"Everyone to the grand hall!" was the morning announcement from the toad Umbridge. Harry (Samantha's half-brother) and Samantha walked next to Ron and Hermione, sticking close in the back ground. Samantha had way too much to hide to be in the center, that's harry's job, no matter how much he hated it.
"We have finally figured out a way to show that Potter is a liar" Umbridge said "we are reading the books of his life."
Samantha leaned over and whispered "I didn't know we had books about us, did you?"
Harry frowned, and muttered back "if I did I would have told you."
'Chapter 1' read Umbridge the Boy and girl who lived.
"Girl" Snape muttered to Mcgonagall "there's a girl who lived?" she shrugged, knowing no more than he did
Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, of number 4, pivot drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much.
"Where's the fun in that?" George asked, looking as aghast as Fred
"There's none!" he sobbed "the horror!"
They were the last people you'd expect to be involved in anything strange or mysterious, because they just didn't hold with such nonsense.
Moody, with his constant vilgance as usual and magic eye, noticed a small snort coming from a girl near Potter, and wondered if this was the 'girl who lived.'
Mr. Dursley was the director of a firm called Grunnings, which made drills. He was a big, beefy man with hardly any neck, although he did have a very large moustache. Mrs. Dursley was thin and blonde and had nearly twice the usual amount of neck, which came in very useful as she spent so much of her time craning over garden fences, spying on the neighbors.
"What a couple" Hermione muttered, making Ron snort.
The Dursleys had a small son called Dudley and in their opinion there was no finer boy anywhere.
Samantha gave a snort, making Hermione admonish "Samantha! Be nice about your cousin!" she didn't say this loud enough for the others to hear though, no one knew except them that harry had a sister, she had her reasons for hiding, something she never told them about, but they still helped hide it anyway.
The Dursleys had everything they wanted, but they also had a secret, and their greatest fear was that somebody would discover it."
"There murders!" George yelled, just in time for Fred to yell
"There sons a pig!"
Remembering what harry used to say about Dudley, Samantha laughed heartily, which went unnoticed because everyone else was laughing too.
They didn't think they could bear it if anyone found out about the Potters.
"What's wrong with the potters!?" the Gryffindor table yelled.
'Of course' Snape sneered 'petunia was always jealous of Lily.'
Unknown to him, Samantha (who knew olcumancy) read his mind and sighed, Snape was too hung up of her mum for his own good, even if he did love her.
Mrs. Potter was Mrs. Dursley's sister, but they hadn't met for several years; in fact, Mrs. Dursley pretended she didn't have a sister, because her sister and her good-for-nothing husband were as unDursleyish as it was possible to be.
The ravenclaws looked horrified by the misuse of the English language, while Harry sighed and looked thoughtful 'they actually have working minds?' he thought to himself 'scary.'
The Dursleys shuddered to think what the neighbors would say if the Potters arrived in the street.
"I thought you lived with them?" Colin creevily asked
"I do" harry replied
"I thought it said it hated the potters though" he continued
"It did" harry replied simply.
This caused quite a few to frown.
The Dursleys knew that the Potters had two small children, too, but they had never even seen them. Those children were another good reason keeping the Potters away; they didn't want Dudley mixing with children like that.
"Children like what?" Ron asked, looking personally offended.
When Mr. and Mrs. Dursley woke up on the dull, gray Tuesday our story starts, there was nothing about the cloudy sky outside to suggest that strange and mysterious things would soon be happening all over the country. Mr. Dursley hummed as he picked out his most boring tie for work, and Mrs. Dursley gossiped away happily as she wrestled a screaming Dudley into his high chair.
Madam Pomfrey frowned 'what a horrid child. I'm glad harry doesn't act like that.'
None of them noticed a large, tawny owl flutter past the window. At half past eight, Mr. Dursley picked up his briefcase, pecked Mrs. Dursley on the cheek, and tried to kiss Dudley good-bye but missed, because Dudley was now having a tantrum and throwing his cereal at the walls.
Mcgongall gave a look that is any Gryffindor's tried that she'd kill them.
"Little tyke," chortled Mr. Dursley
"Little?" Fred choked, turning to harry
"Is he blind?" George asked
"To his little Dudley he is" Samantha muttered, and the twins snickered.
As he left the house. He got into his car and backed out of number four's drive.
It was on the corner of the street that he noticed the first sign of something peculiar — a cat reading a map.
Samantha and harry looked at Mcgongall and smiled, she really is an awesome head of house. Samantha looked away though, making her frown.
Samantha was deep in her own fears. When they found that she was disfigured (will be explained) how would the others react? Will they hate her, or even be disgusted?
For a second, Mr. Dursley didn't realize what he had seen — then he jerked his head around to look again. There was a tabby cat standing on the corner of Privet Drive, but there wasn't a map in sight. What could he have been thinking of?
It must have been a trick of the light.
"Fool" Malfoy muttered, and silently Samantha and harry agreed.
Mr. Dursley blinked and stared at the cat. It stared back. As Mr. Dursley drove around the corner and up the road, he watched the cat in his mirror. It was now reading the sign that said Privet Drive — no, looking at the sign; cats couldn't read maps or signs.
"Unless you're Mcgongall" Samantha smiled "that's the exception."
"Samantha" Mcgongall warned, noticing the playful glint in the twins eyes "don't give them any ideas."
Mr. Dursley gave himself a little shake and put the cat out of his mind. As he drove toward town he thought of nothing except a large order of drills he was hoping to get that day.
But on the edge of town, drills were driven out of his mind by something else. As he sat in the usual morning traffic jam, he couldn't help noticing that there seemed to be a lot of strangely dressed people about. People in cloaks.
Mr. Dursley couldn't bear people who dressed in funny clothes — the getups you saw on young people! He supposed this was some stupid new fashion. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel and his eyes fell on a huddle of these weirdos standing quite close by. They were whispering excitedly together.
Mr. Dursley was enraged to see that a couple of them weren't young at all; why, that man had to be older than he was, and wearing an emerald-green cloak! The nerve of him!
"How horrible!" George cried
"Disgusting!" fred yelled
"Heathens!" Lee joined.
But then it struck Mr. Dursley that this was probably some silly stunt —these people were obviously collecting for something… yes, that would be it.
"He's not the sharpest knife in the drawer, is he?" Malfory snickered
"I agree" Samantha mumbled to harry "two things in one day, Merlin save me."
The traffic moved on and a few minutes later, Mr. Dursley arrived in the Grunnings parking lot, his mind back on drills.
"At least he straight minded" Neville muttered softly.
Samantha slowly put her hand to the right side of her face, which was covered in burn marks (no one except harry knew that of course) and gave a sad smile, they didn't know how determined he could be.
Mr. Dursley always sat with his back to the window in his office on the ninth floor. If he hadn't, he might have found it harder to concentrate on drills that morning. He didn't see the owls swooping past in broad daylight, though people down in the street did; they pointed and gazed open-mouthed as owl after owl sped overhead. Most of them had never seen an owl even at nighttime.
"They've never seen an owl?"
Mr. Dursley, however, had a perfectly normal, owl-free morning. He yelled at five different people.
"How…. Lovely" Molly muttered to Arthur, watching harry. They hadn't known that harry lived with people like this and wondered how he turned out to be the wonderful gentleman he was.
Unbeknownst to them, Samantha was watching them with acute interest. Whenever harry went over to the weasley's she stayed with the gnomes in the back yard, hidden from view, so she wanted to know if they were good people for harry to be around.
He made several important telephone calls and shouted a bit more.
"Does he ever stop shouting?" Hermione asked, aspirated. She really didn't like these muggles, and wanted to know how Harry could live with them without something bad happening. Samantha shook her head and whispered to harry
"They never will."
He was in a very good mood until lunchtime, when he thought he'd stretch his legs and walk across the road –
Fred was glancing fearfully at the ceilings of Hogwarts, watching for something in the sky
"What's wrong?" George asked
"I'm waiting for the fire" Fred replied "because surely it will start raining fire soon."
This made everyone laugh, with Remus and Sirius being the loudest.
- To buy himself a bun from the bakery.
"Oh, thank Merlin!" George cried "crisis averted people, the world will not end!"
This made Samantha snicker slightly, but otherwise everyone burst out laughing.
He'd forgotten all about the people in cloaks until he passed a group of them next to the baker's. He eyed them angrily as he passed. He didn't know why, but they made him uneasy. This bunch were whispering excitedly, too, and he couldn't see a single collecting tin.
Moody (who had decided to watch the girl whom he'd noticed earlier) saw her mumble "gee, I wonder why, bloody git" to Harry. And gave a small smile
It was on his way back past them, clutching a large doughnut in a bag, that he caught a few words of what they were saying.
"The Potters, that's right, that's what I heard yes, their children, harry and Samantha"
"Samantha?" Remus muttered, looking at the girl herself. She was a good friend of harry's from what he could tell, but he didn't know that he had a sister.
Mr. Dursley stopped dead.
"He's not that fat yet" Harry muttered, to the humor of his sister.
Fear flooded him. He looked back at the whisperers as if he wanted to say something to them, but thought better of it. He dashed back across the road, hurried up to his office,
"I've never heard of him working out so much" Samantha muttered
Hermione smiled, even though she was still uneasy. She was worried about harry's home life, the one thing he never talked about.
- snapped at his secretary not to disturb him, seized his telephone, and had almost finished dialing his home number when he changed his mind. He put the receiver back down and stroked his mustache, thinking... no, he was being stupid. Potter wasn't such an unusual name.
"If only" Samantha muttered, looking at harry with pity.
He was sure there were lots of people called Potter who had children called Harry and Samantha. Come to think of it, he wasn't even sure that was their names.
"He didn't even know your name!?" Ron yelled
Harry gave a smile to reassure him as he said "they do now."
He'd never even seen them. It might have been Harvey and Sara, or Harold and Bella. (A/N: couldn't think of another s name)
Samantha snorted, she'd change her name if it was Sara or Bella, and neither Harvey nor Harold fit harry like his name did.
There was no point in worrying Mrs. Dursley; she always got so upset at any mention of her sister. He didn't blame her - if he'd had a sister like that...
Samantha noticed that Snape was one of the many who growled at this, and smiled, there might be hope for her father yet.
But all the same, those people in cloaks... He found it a lot harder to concentrate on drills that afternoon and when he left the building at five o'clock, he was still so worried that he walked straight into someone just outside the door.
"Sorry," he grunted, as the tiny old man stumbled and almost fell.
"I had no clue he knew manners" harry said, surprised
"Neither did I" Ron mumbled, having met Uncle Vernon at the end of first year.
It was a few seconds before Mr. Dursley realized that the man was wearing a violet cloak. He didn't seem at all upset at being almost knocked to the ground. On the contrary, his face split into a wide smile and he said in a squeaky voice
"Professor, is that you?" Samantha asked, looking at Flitwick carefully.
He just shrugged, but she spotted his blush.
- That made passersby stare,
"Don't be sorry, my dear sir, for nothing could upset me today! Rejoice, for You-Know-Who has gone at last! Even Muggles like yourself should be celebrating, this happy, happy day!"
Samantha slapped her head and groaned, way to make it public. Everyone in school now stared at harry in half-pity and half-fear, worried he may strike out.
And the old man hugged Mr. Dursley around the middle and walked off.
"I'm surprised I could even get to his middle," Flitwick mumbled, making Minerva and Albus to arch an eyebrow in return.
Mr. Dursley stood rooted to the spot. He had been hugged by a complete stranger. He also thought he had been called a Muggle, whatever that was. He was rattled. He hurried to his car and set off for home, hoping he was imagining things, which he had never hoped before, because he didn't approve of imagination.
Hermione stared at Harry in shock.
"What?" he asked, feeling self conscious
"How can they not approve of imagination, with how…. Vivid…. Yours is?" she asked
Harry shrugged "I'll never be like my uncle" he told her firmly.
As he pulled into the driveway of number four, the first thing he saw - and it didn't improve his mood - was the tabby cat he'd spotted that morning. It was now sitting on his garden wall. He was sure it was the same one; it had the same markings around its eyes.
"Definitely Mcgonagall" many people whispered, staring at her with interest.
"Shoo!" said Mr. Dursley loudly.
Samantha smirked, that'd never work.
The cat didn't move. It just gave him a stern look.
Many shivered having been under that look before.
Was this normal cat behavior? Mr. Dursley wondered.
"Hell no" Samantha replied, smirking
Trying to pull himself together, he let himself into the house. He was still determined not to mention anything to his wife. Mrs. Dursley had had a nice, normal day. She told him over dinner all about Mrs. Next Door's problems with her daughter and how Dudley had earned a new word ("Won't!").
"Spoilt brat," Molly whispered to her husband, who could only nod at his wife.
Mr. Dursley tried to act normally. When Dudley had been put to bed, he went into the living room in time to catch the last report on the evening news:
"And finally, bird-watchers everywhere have reported that the nation's owls have been behaving very unusually today. Although owls normally hunt at night and are hardly ever seen in daylight, there have been hundreds of sightings of these birds flying in every direction since sunrise. Experts are unable to explain why the owls have suddenly changed their sleeping pattern." The newscaster allowed himself a grin."Most mysterious. And now, over to Jim McGuffin with the weather. Goingto be any more showers of owls tonight, Jim?"
"Well, Ted," said the weatherman,
Tonks looked up at this, having been listening to the story with her head down, before mouthing 'Dad?' in confusion, surprise etched onto her face.
"I don't know about that, but it's not only the owls that have been acting oddly today. Viewers as far apart as Kent, Yorkshire, and Dundee have been phoning in to tell me that instead of the rain I promised yesterday, they've had a downpour of shooting stars! Perhaps people have been celebrating Bonfire Night early - it's not until next week, folks! But I can promise a wet night tonight."
Samantha shook her head, and harry called her a crazy psycho. Those people were party animals!
Mr. Dursley sat frozen in his armchair. Shooting stars all over Britain? Owls flying by daylight? Mysterious people in cloaks all over the place? And a whisper, a whisper about the Potters...
"Damn" Samantha muttered "he actually figured that out."
Mrs. Dursley came into the living room carrying two cups of tea. It was no good. He'd have to say something to her. He cleared his throat nervously.
"Er - Petunia, dear - you haven't heard from your sister lately, have you?" As he had expected, Mrs. Dursley looked shocked and angry. After all, they normally pretended she didn't have a sister.
Samantha frowned, they really were too jealous for their own good.
"No," she said sharply. "Why?"
"Funny stuff on the news," Mr. Dursley mumbled. "Owls... shooting stars... and there were a lot of funny-looking people in town today..."
"So?" snapped Mrs. Dursley.
"Well, I just thought... maybe... it was something to do with... you know... her crowd."
"Her crowd?" Harry muttered, these people were too paranoid for her own good.
Mrs. Dursley sipped her tea through pursed lips. Mr. Dursley wondered whether he dared tell her he'd heard the name "Potter." He decided he didn't dare. Instead he said, as casually as he could,
"Their kids- they'd be about Dudley's age now, wouldn't they?"
"I suppose so," said Mrs. Dursley stiffly.
"What are there names again? Howard and Amelia, isn't it?"
"Harry and Samantha. Nasty, common names, if you ask me."
"They are not" Ron muttered. Samantha was a good friend of his; she was the only female in Gryffindor that took the remaining bed in the boy's dorm because there wasn't enough space for her to be in there. The guys all thought of her as a great friend and sister.
"Oh, yes," said Mr. Dursley, his heart sinking horribly. "Yes, I quite agree." He didn't say another word on the subject as they went upstairs to bed. While Mrs. Dursley was in the bathroom, Mr. Dursley crept to the bedroom window and peered down into the front garden. The cat was still there. It was staring down Privet Drive as though it were waiting for something.
Everyone was confused, but didn't ask, they figured it'd be mentioned soon.
Was he imagining things?
"Thought you didn't approve of imagination, old fart!" The twins shouted, laughter ringing out in the hall.
Could all this have anything to do with the Potters? If it did... if it got out that they were related to a pair of - well, he didn't think he could bear it. The Dursleys got into bed. Mrs. Dursley fell asleep quickly but Mr. Dursley lay awake, turning it all over in his mind. His last, comforting thought before he fell asleep was that even if the Potters were involved, there was no reason for them to come near him and Mrs. Dursley. The Potters knew very well what he and Petunia thought about them and their kind... He couldn't see how he and Petunia could get mixed up in anything that might be going on - he yawned and turned over - it couldn't affect them...
"You've jinxed it, muggle." A slytherin mumbled.
How very wrong he was.
"See!"
Mr. Dursley might have been drifting into an uneasy sleep, but the cat on the wall outside was showing no sign of sleepiness. It was sitting as still as a statue, its eyes fixed unblinkingly on the far corner of Privet Drive. It didn't so much as quiver when a car door slammed on the next street, nor when two owls swooped overhead. In fact, it was nearly midnight before the cat moved at all.
A man appeared on the corner the cat had been watching, appeared so suddenly and silently you'd have thought he'd just popped out of the ground. The cat's tail twitched and its eyes narrowed. Nothing like this man had ever been seen on Privet Drive. He was tall, thin, and very old, judging by the silver of his hair and beard, which were both long enough to tuck into his belt.
"Dumbledore!" Many people shouted, with the older wizard chucking at the response.
He was wearing long robes, a purple cloak that swept the ground, and high-heeled, buckled boots.
Samantha shook her head, those boots were disgusting.
His blue eyes were light, bright, and sparkling behind half-moon spectacles and his nose was very long and crooked, as though it had been broken at least twice. This man's name was Albus Dumbledore.
Albus Dumbledore didn't seem to realize that he had just arrived in a street where everything from his name to his boots was unwelcome.
Here, Dumbledore stopped and looked at the students before saying, "Of course I realized it. I just didn't pay any attention to it."
He was busy rummaging in his cloak, looking for something. But he did seem to realize he was being watched, because he looked up suddenly at the cat, which was still staring at him from the other end of the street. For some reason, the sight of the cat seemed to amuse him. He chuckled and muttered, "I should have known."
Once again, Dumbledore chuckled before looking over at the Headmistress and whispering to her, "How I didn't is quite shocking, really." After, Minerva blushed, which made everyone curious as to what the older wizard had said.
He found what he was looking for in his inside pocket. It seemed to be a silver cigarette lighter. He flicked it open, held it up in the air, and clicked it. The nearest street lamp went out with a little pop.
Samantha looked interested, but she knew it was something she probably couldn't use.
He clicked it again - the next lamp flickered into darkness. Twelve times he clicked the Put-Outer, until the only lights left on the whole street were two tiny pinpricks in the distance, which were the eyes of the cat watching him. If anyone looked out of their window now, even beady-eyed Mrs. Dursley, they wouldn't be able to see anything that was happening down on the pavement. Dumbledore slipped the Put-Outer back inside his cloak and set off down the street toward number four, where he sat down on the wall next to the cat. He didn't look at it, but after a moment he spoke to it.
"Fancy seeing you here, Professor McGonagall."
"He fancies you, Professor!" The twins shout, laughter following their statement when McGonagall blushes/
He turned to smile at the tabby, but it had gone. Instead he was smiling at a rather severe-looking woman who was wearing square glasses exactly the shape of the markings the cat had had around its eyes. She, too, was wearing a cloak, an emerald one. Her black hair was drawn into a tight bun. She looked distinctly ruffled.
Sirius raised an eyebrow; he'd never seen her ruffled before.
"How did you know it was me?" she asked.
"My dear Professor, I've never seen a cat sit so stiffly."
Many chuckled at this.
"You'd be stiff if you'd been sitting on a brick wall all day," said Professor McGonagall.
"All day? When you could have been celebrating? I must have passed a dozen feasts and parties on my way here."
Professor McGonagall sniffed angrily. "Oh yes, everyone's celebrating, all right," she said impatiently.
"You'd think they'd be a bit more careful, but no - even the Muggles have noticed something's going on. It was on their news." She jerked her head back at the Dursleys' dark living-room window. "I heard it. Flocks of owls... shooting stars... Well, they're not completely stupid. They were bound to notice something. Shooting stars down in Kent - I'll bet that was Dedalus Diggle. He never had much sense."
People laughed, some cried, depending on how you were looking at.
"You can't blame them," said Dumbledore gently. "We've had precious little to celebrate for eleven years."
"Never a truer word said" Samantha mumbled, she'd read extensively on the war, and knew how costly it was.
"I know that," said Professor McGonagall irritably. "But that's no reason to lose our heads. People are being downright careless, out on the streets in broad daylight, not even dressed in Muggle clothes, swapping rumors."
Samantha growled, talk about just trying to be found out, hello people!
She threw a sharp, sideways glance at Dumbledore here, as though hoping he was going to tell her something, but he didn't, so she went on. "A fine thing it would be if, on the very day YouKnow-Who seems to have disappeared at last, the Muggles found out about us all. I suppose he really has gone, Dumbledore?"
"No" Samantha muttered to harry "not even close."
"It certainly seems so," said Dumbledore. "We have much to be thankful for. Would you care for a lemon drop?"
"A what?"
"A lemon drop. They're a kind of Muggle sweet I'm rather fond of"
The purebloods that had been staring confused were now shaking their heads as a 'oh, that's it.'
"No, thank you," said Professor McGonagall coldly, as though she didn't think this was the moment for lemon drops. "As I say, even if You-Know-Who has gone -"
"My dear Professor, surely a sensible person like yourself can call him by his name? All this 'You- Know-Who' nonsense - for eleven years I have been trying to persuade people to call him by his proper name: Voldemort."
Samantha used her invisibility chocker (inheritance from lily) and once she was completely invisible she bellowed "VOLDEMORT!"
Everyone jumped a mile high, except for harry, Dumbledore, and Moody.
Professor McGonagall flinched, but Dumbledore, who was unsticking two lemon drops, seemed not to notice. "It all gets so confusing if we keep saying 'You-Know-Who.' I have never seen any reason to be frightened of saying Voldemort's name."
"Because you were the one who brought him to Hogwarts" Samantha mumbled "you saw the past good in him, and remember that good, not the evil."
"I know you haven't, said Professor McGonagall, sounding half exasperated, half admiring. "But you're different. Everyone knows you're the only one You-Know- oh, all right, Voldemort, was frightened of."
"You flatter me," said Dumbledore calmly. "Voldemort had powers I will never have."
"Only because you're too noble to use them!" Hermione muttered with the table overhearing her.
"Only because you're too - well - noble to use them."
"You're just like McGonagall, Hermione!" The twins shout, making Hermione blush. However, Harry can't help but think about how much Hermione is like his mother. When he looks over at Remus and Siruis and sees a grin on their faces, he knows they think the same thing.
"It's lucky it's dark. I haven't blushed so much since Madam Pomfrey told me she liked my new earmuffs."
"We didn't need to know that!" Hogwarts shouted as one, and many laughed seeing Madam Pomfrey's blush.
Professor McGonagall shot a sharp look at Dumbledore and said, "The owls are nothing next to the rumors that are flying around. You know what everyone's saying? About why he's disappeared? About what finally stopped him?"
"Our mum stopped him" Harry mumbled to Samantha "by placing the blood wards, we just got crossed in the process."
Samantha wanted to tell him that he was right, but she didn't want to be noticed by any of the teachers.
It seemed that Professor McGonagall had reached the point she was most anxious to discuss, the real reason she had been waiting on a cold, hard wall all day, for neither as a cat nor as a woman had she fixed Dumbledore with such a piercing stare as she did now.
"She does have quite the stare" Samantha commented, and lee and the twins heard.
"You're telling us!" they cried as one
It was plain that whatever "everyone" was saying, she was not going to believe it until Dumbledore told her it was true. Dumbledore, however, was choosing another lemon drop and did not answer.
"What they're saying," she pressed on, "is that last night Voldemort turned up in Godric's Hollow. He went to find the Potters. The rumor is that Lily and James Potter are - are - that they're - dead. "
Samantha risked exposure by joining the hug that Sirius, the weasley's, and Hermione had started.
Dumbledore bowed his head. Professor McGonagall gasped.
"Lily and James... I can't believe it... I didn't want to believe it...Oh, Albus..."
Harry wished harder than ever that Umbridge would decide to stop reading the books and just take him back to the daily torture of the blood quill, it was much better than this.
Dumbledore reached out and patted her on the shoulder. "I know... I know..." he said heavily.
Professor McGonagall's voice trembled as she went on. "That's not all. They're saying he tried to kill the Potter's son, Harry. But – he couldn't. He couldn't kill that little boy. No one knows why, or how, but they're saying that when he couldn't kill Harry Potter, Voldemort's power somehow broke - and that's why he's gone. Dumbledore nodded glumly.
"See" Umbridge Said pompously "he is dead."
Harry shrugged his shoulders, and decided not to argue. They would know eventually anyway.
Samantha frowned, wondering why Dumbledore didn't mention her in the conversations, but didn't ask.
"It's - it's true?" faltered Professor McGonagall. "After all he's done... all the people he's killed... he couldn't kill a little boy? It's just astounding... of all the things to stop him... but how in the name of heaven did Harry survive?"
Everyone inched closer (except Harry and Samantha) wanting to know why.
"We can only guess," said Dumbledore. "We may never know."
Everyone slumped back, disappointed. Harry was glad that Dumbledore didn't tell her the truth, it was something he didn't want anyone to know.
Professor McGonagall pulled out a lace handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes beneath her spectacles. Dumbledore gave a great sniff as he took a golden watch from his pocket and examined it. It was a very odd watch. It had twelve hands but no numbers; instead, little planets were moving around the edge. It must have made sense to Dumbledore, though, because he put it back in his pocket and said,
"Hagrid's late. I suppose it was he who told you I'd be here, by the way?"
"Yes," said Professor McGonagall. "And I don't suppose you're going to tell me why you're here, of all places?"
"I've come to bring Harry to his aunt and uncle. They're the only family he has left now."
Everyone (besides the obvious) froze, Harry lived with those muggles, how did he survive?
"You don't mean - you can't mean the people who live here?" cried Professor McGonagall, jumping to her feet and pointing at number four.
"Dumbledore - you can't. I've been watching them all day. You couldn't find two people who are less like us. And they've got this son - I saw him kicking his mother all the way up the street, screaming for sweets. Harry Potter come and live here!"
"It's the best place for him," said Dumbledore firmly. "His aunt and uncle will be able to explain everything to him when he's older. I've written them a letter."
Samantha and harry frowned, confused. What letter?
"A letter?" repeated Professor McGonagall faintly, sitting back down on the wall. "Really, Dumbledore, you think you can explain all this in a letter? These people will never understand him! He'll be famous – a legend - I wouldn't be surprised if today was known as Harry Potter day in the future - there will be books written about Harry - every child in our world will know his name!"
"Exactly," said Dumbledore, looking very seriously over the top of his half-moon glasses. "It would be enough to turn any boy's head. Famous before he can walk and talk! Famous for something he won't even remember! You see how much better off he'll be, growing up away from all that until he's ready to take it?"
Samantha frowned, he didn't even know he was famous until he was 12, talk about adjusting.
Professor McGonagall opened her mouth, changed her mind, swallowed, and then said, "Yes - yes, you're right, of course. But how is the boy getting here, Dumbledore?" She eyed his cloak suddenly as though she thought he might be hiding Harry underneath it.
"Hagrid's bringing him."
"You think it - wise - to trust Hagrid with something as important as this?"
"We would trust hagrid with our lives" the trio said proudly, and moody saw the girl nod in agreement.
I would trust Hagrid with my life," said Dumbledore.
Umbridge sniffed, how could anyone trust those barbaric halfbreeds?
"I'm not saying his heart isn't in the right place," said Professor McGonagall grudgingly, "but you can't pretend he's not careless. He does tend to - what was that?"
A low rumbling sound had broken the silence around them. It grew steadily louder as they looked up and down the street for some sign of a headlight; it swelled to a roar as they both looked up at the sky – and a huge motorcycle fell out of the air and landed on the road in front of them. If the motorcycle was huge, it was nothing to the man sitting astride it. He was almost twice as tall as a normal man and at least five times as wide. He looked simply too big to be allowed, and so wild – long tangles of bushy black hair and beard hid most of his face, he had hands the size of trash can lids, and his feet in their leather boots were like baby dolphins. In his vast, muscular arms he was holding a bundle of blankets.
Most of the women cooed, while Harry blushed.
"Hagrid," said Dumbledore, sounding relieved. "At last. And where did you get that motorcycle?"
Sirius puffed out his chest, happy that he was about to be mentioned.
"Borrowed it, Professor Dumbledore, sir," said the giant, climbing carefully off the motorcycle as he spoke. "Young Sirius Black lent it to me. I've got him, sir."
"No problems, were there?"
"No, sir - house was almost destroyed, but I got him out all right before the Muggles started swarmin' around. He fell asleep as we was flyin' over Bristol."
Molly smiled at the image; harry sounded adorable as a child.
Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall bent forward over the bundle of blankets. Inside, just visible, was a baby boy, fast asleep. Under a tuft of jet-black hair over his forehead they could see a curiously shaped cut, like a bolt of lightning.
"Is that where -?" whispered Professor McGonagall.
"Yes," said Dumbledore. "He'll have that scar forever."
Harry frowned, he hated that scar. When people turned to stare, he quickly covered it the best he could with his hair. Snape blanched, that was such a non-potter thing to do.
"Couldn't you do something about it, Dumbledore?"
"Even if I could, I wouldn't. Scars can come in handy. I have one myself above my left knee that is a perfect map of the London Underground.
'That's a pretty intricate scar, Dumbledore' Samantha thought
Well - give him here, Hagrid - we'd better get this over with." Dumbledore took Harry in his arms and turned toward the Dursleys' house.
"Could I - could I say good-bye to him, sir?" asked Hagrid. He bent his great, shaggy head over Harry and gave him what must have been a very scratchy, whiskery kiss. Then, suddenly, Hagrid let out a howl like a wounded dog.
Sirius smirked, as did remus.
"Shhh!" hissed Professor McGonagall, "you'll wake the Muggles!"
"S-s-sorry," sobbed Hagrid, taking out a large, spotted handkerchief and burying his face in it.
"But I c-c-can't stand it - Lily an' James dead - an' poor little Harry off ter live with Muggles -"
Harry smiled, happy that someone cared.
"Yes, yes, it's all very sad, but get a grip on yourself, Hagrid, or we'll be found,"
Many students snickered, thinking of how they had the same thought.
Professor McGonagall whispered, patting Hagrid gingerly on the arm as Dumbledore stepped over the low garden wall and walked to the front door. He laid Harry gently on the doorstep, took a letter out of his cloak, tucked it inside Harry's blankets, and then came back to the other two. For a full minute the three of them stood and looked at the little bundle; Hagrid's shoulders shook, Professor McGonagall blinked furiously, and the twinkling light that usually shone from Dumbledore's eyes seemed to have gone out.
Many shivered, that was a horrid thought.
"Well," said Dumbledore finally, "that's that. We've no business staying here. We may as well go and join the celebrations."
"Yeah," said Hagrid in a very muffled voice, "I'll be takin' Sirius his bike back. G'night, Professor McGonagall - Professor Dumbledore, sir."
"I shall see you soon, I expect, Professor McGonagall," said Dumbledore, nodding to her. Professor McGonagall blew her nose in reply.
She transformed and slunk down the alleys. Dumbledore slowly walked over to the bushes and pulled out a small baby girl wrapped in blankets
Many looked surprised, wondering who the girl was.
She had a small lighter in hand, and was squealing slightly as she played with it.
Molly gasped, how could Albus put a lighter near a child!
A small flame flickered, and then formed into a tiny ball, as the girl clutched it in her hand, showing no signs of burns or of pain.
That made many stop, why wasn't it hurting her? Samantha smiled, and grabbed the lighter in her pocket, lighting it up to make a fire bracelet out of pure boredom and no one (not even Mad-eye) noticed.
Dumbledore chuckled "it seems I was correct on the fact that you are different little one. You beat to a different drum is a well known saying for such things. I know it is dangerous for you to be known to the community, its better you're hidden, the girl who lived."
He placed the girl next to Harry, and she swung her small arm to the side to hug him closer, the fire vanished as the lighter closed shut in her hand.
Dumbledore turned and walked back down the street. On the corner he stopped and took out the silver Put-Outer. He clicked it once, and twelve balls of light sped back to their street lamps so that Privet Drive glowed suddenly orange and He could just see the two bundles of blankets on the step of number four.
Everyone gasped, they had no clue there was a girl who lived and a boy who lived, but it seemed so. They looked around the hall, wanting to know who it was.
"Good luck, Harry, Samantha" he murmured. He turned on his heel and with a swish of his cloak, he was gone.
"We needed it" Harry mumbled, making Sirius and Remus glance at him with worry.
A breeze ruffled the neat hedges of Privet Drive, which lay silent and tidy under the inky sky, the very last place you would expect astonishing things to happen. Harry and Samantha potter rolled over inside there blankets without waking up. One small hand closed on the letter beside him, while the other a lighter and they slept on, not knowing they were special, not knowing they were famous, not knowing they would be woken in a few hours' time by Mrs. Dursley's scream as she opened the front door to put out the milk bottles, nor that they would spend the next few weeks being prodded and pinched by his cousin Dudley...'
"More like the next few years" Harry muttered
They couldn't know that at this very moment, people meeting in secret all over the country were holding up their glasses and saying in hushed voices: "To Harry Potter - the boy who lived!"
"Who wants to read?" Albus asked
"I will!" the twins called, before even Hermione could raise her hand, and that was saying something.
'chapter 2' they read 'the vanishing glass.'