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That Fateful Night
Chapter One: A Twist in the Tale
By Gaerdir
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"Destiny is a name often given in retrospect to choices that had dramatic consequences." - J.K. Rowling
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Privet Drive
A tall, thin man appeared at the corner of the street so silently and quickly, that you would think he had risen out of the ground. He stood in the shadows a moment, then pulled a lighter out of his clothes and clicked it twelve times. Twelve balls of light flew out of the lamps nearby and the street was cast into darkness. He then quickly strode down the street, stopping in front of a large house, with an immaculate lawn, and a brand-new car in the driveway. A tomcat lounged at the top of a nearby wall, eyes narrowing as it glanced at the man.
He stepped into the moonlight for a moment, gazing thoughtfully at the home before him. Half-moon spectacles glinted gold as he cocked his head, and stroked his silver beard. He wore deep blue robes that fit him snugly; his cloak billowing slightly as he moved. The man noticed this. With a small chuckle, he drew a stick from his sleeve with a flourish, and waved it once. His cloak fell flat.
The tomcat glanced at him again. The man, too, glanced at the tomcat. His piercing blue eyes seemed to gleam once as he got the information he wanted.
"No. This house will not do. Harry will need a home, not a place like this," he muttered to himself, "His uncle and aunt are not fit to be parents. Someone else must take him."
The man drew himself up to his impressive height. He glanced once more at the house, and then raised his arm and clicked the lighter once. As the street began to flicker back with light, he raised his arm once again.
"Fawkes!" He intoned.
A flash of fire, and the man disappeared.
The tomcat began to yowl.
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Godric's Hollow
Another flash of fire, and the man reappeared. But this time he wasn't alone. A red and golden bird soared around his head for a moment, and then landed softly on his left shoulder. He absently reached up and stroked the bird's head as they both sadly looked at the sight in front of them.
It was once a beautiful home; simple, but, yes, beautiful. It had been a small cottage, with two floors, when the man had last come, and a wonderful red-haired woman had nurtured various plants until the garden in front of the house was bursting with color. A simple, iron-wrought gate was all that blocked the path up to the main door.
But now, the home was wrecked, and various pieces of wood still glowed in the darkness. The iron-wrought gate lay crooked on its hinges, while the front door hung open. It was pitch-black behind the door, but the man could make out a large looming shape moving closer to the door.
The door swung all the way back, and a huge man stepped out. He was twice the height of a normal man, and about five times as large. His hands were as big as trashcan lids. A wild, tangled beard covered most of his face, and his hair hung in rough, thick tangles around his shoulders. In his vast, muscular arms, he held a bundle of blankets. A small fist had reached out of the bundle, and was now gripping the giant's beard tightly.
The man smiled slightly at this. He watched as the giant walked slowly towards the gate, cradling the bundle as if it was the most precious gift in the world.
"Hagrid!" The man called out.
The giant looked up abruptly, and then his wide face broke into a relieved grin.
"Professor Dumbledore, sir! I've got Harry righ' here, sir!" Hagrid said, quickening his pace to get to Dumbledore.
Dumbledore leaned forward, as Hagrid neared, to glimpse the boy who had saved and changed so many lives that night, at a heavy price from his own.
There was a tuft of jet-black hair covering his forehead. One tiny arm was nested underneath the blankets, while the other was still reaching up, grabbing a fistful of Hagrid's beard. He looked peaceful and calm, the loss of his parents hadn't hurt him yet. It wouldn't, not until he noted their absence. His bright green eyes bored into Dumbledore's, and he lifted his other arm, reaching for the famous half-moon spectacles. Dumbledore pulled back, and gently denied Harry's attempts to claim his glasses. Harry stopped trying, and looked at him inquisitively.
Dumbledore impulsively reached out and smoothed Harry's hair, and then pulled out the stick he had used earlier.
"Are yeh sure it's a good idea to use yer wand near young Harry, sir?" Hagrid asked nervously.
Dumbledore didn't respond, and instead, lit his wand tip, and then held it above Harry's face.
"What's that, sir? Is that where..?" Hagrid asked, shocked.
Dumbledore merely nodded. On Harry's forehead, covered by his hair, a curiously shaped cut, like a bolt of lightning, could be seen. In the wand light, Dumbledore seemed to have aged a hundred years. His blue eyes were suddenly weary, and his shoulders sagged.
"Hold him here, Hagrid. I must go investigate something, and, of course, bring back Ja- the bodies. We cannot disgrace them by leaving them there," Dumbledore decided.
Hagrid agreed silently, and stepped into the shadows, watching Dumbledore carefully. Dumbledore picked his way past the wreckage, his wand now emitting a light that lit the general area in front of him. Fawkes left his shoulder and flew over to Hagrid, landing on his shoulder, and leaning over Harry. Harry looked at the bird curiously, and his bright green eyes were puzzled. A few tears fell from Fawkes's eyes, and landed on the peculiar cut. Harry closed his eyes for a second, and then looked up again, reaching for Fawkes. The bird seemed to smile at him, let him clumsily pat its head, and then leapt off Hagrid's shoulder, soaring towards Dumbledore, who had reached the doorway. Hagrid looked down at Harry, and let out a gasp. The cut had healed into a scar, darker than the skin around it. Harry wriggled in his blankets, and then yawned, grabbing Hagrid's beard with a tiny fist, and fell asleep.
Dumbledore watched this silently, and then, as Fawkes landed on his shoulder, entered the house cautiously. He paused near the door, and curiously examined a fixture on the wall of the hallway. He smiled sadly, let out an 'Ah!', and then jabbed his wand towards the fixture. Immediately, the hallway was warmly lit up with lights; he waved his wand once more, and lights throughout the house began to flicker on.
Dumbledore mumbled something under his breath as he touched his wand to the doorknob behind him. Immediately, a gray cloud arose from the doorknob, and Dumbledore leaned forward, his long, crooked nose just touching the apparition. He peered inside the cloud, and nodded to himself, and then shook his head.
"Dark Magic has addled your brain, Tom. You never would have let your emotions get the better of you before. I've never seen such an overpowered Alohomorabefore; blowing out the lock mechanism instead of just opening it." he told the cloud regretfully.
Fawkes trilled a single note.
"You could have been so much more," he whispered as he turned away.
Dumbledore stepped further into the house, seeing that the ground floor was relatively untouched. He strode through the room, and then stopped abruptly, looking down sadly.
The body of a man stared at the ceiling; his hazel eyes unseeing. There was not a single mark on his body, yet he was dead. Dumbledore crouched down, and softly closed the man's eyes.
"The Avada Kedavracurse. At least you died a painless, yet noble death, James, protecting Lily and Harry." he said, "Fawkes! You know what to do."
Fawkes landed on James's chest, and, in a flash of fire, disappeared with the body.
Dumbledore stood, and walked to the staircase. It was clear that neither Lily nor James had their wands on their person. Dumbledore drew his wand, and climbed the steps, imagining Lily's fear at the cursed words that had killed her husband. He entered the destroyed nursery, spying the stacked boxes against the chair. So Lily had tried barricading herself in. Once again, Dumbledore touched his wand to the doorknob, and sighed, seeing the same effects as the main door. He turned and examined the room. With a trill, Fawkes flew through the right corner of the house, and landed on his shoulder. Dumbledore approached the second body of that night, and crouched.
"You wonderful, wonderful girl. Do you know what you have done, Lily? Your selfless act of love has protected your child to such an extent, he has done the impossible. Rest in peace, my dear, knowing that your son is destined for great things. Great, wonderful things." He told her, stroking her deep, red hair.
Fawkes swooped down once more, and disappeared with the body.
Dumbledore stood, and prepared himself for his next spell. This was what he had really come to investigate. Waving his wand in a wide, sweeping arc and then slashing upwards, he then began to move his wand counterclockwise thrice. A glowing white ring remained in the air, and it pulsed thrice. The room glowed white, to the point where Dumbledore could not see anything, and then the light faded.
Dumbledore watched as a wraith of Lily rushed through the door, clutching baby Harry to her chest. She whirled around and slammed the door, sobbing, as she pulled a chair and a few boxes in front of the door.
"Avada Kedavra!" A high, cold voice yelled.
Wraith-Lily sobbed even harder at this. She held baby Harry close, and whispered to him. Dumbledore moved closer to hear her.
"Mommy loves you, Harry. She won't let the bad-man get you, ok? Mommy's going to keep you safe. Don't you wo-"
She was cut off by the door slamming open. Her haphazard barricade went flying to a corner as a wraith of "Tom" entered.
She stood there, for a split second, and then turned and dropped her son in the cot behind her, throwing her arms out wide, shielding him.
"Not Harry, not Harry, please not Harry!"
"Stand aside, you silly girl… stand aside, now…"
"Not Harry, please no, take me, kill me instead-"
"This is my last warning-"
"Not Harry! Please… have mercy… have mercy… Not Harry! Not Harry! Please- I'll do anything-"
"Stand aside- stand aside, girl-"
A faint green light flashed around the room, and wraith-Lily dropped dead. Wraith-"Tom" stood in front of the curious boy, and carefully pointed his wand at the young one's face, as if he wanted to see the baby die.
"Avada Kedavra!"
The fateful words were uttered, and the green beam of the curse shot out of the wand. It hit the baby, and then miraculously, rebounded and struck "Tom". For a second, there was an unearthly scream as the wraith of "Tom" collapsed into itself and disappeared, a ghostly apparition soaring from the body and disappearing. Dumbledore swooped forward and jabbed his wand through the ring; the scene from three hours before disappearing.
He raised his wand and murmured an incantation. A single wand rose out of the rubble, and soared into his hand. He turned and caught two more as they flew up the stairs. He examined them with a critical eye.
"Eleven inches. Pliable. Mahogany. James's wand, I believe." He said, stowing said wand in his robes.
"Ten and a quarter. Swishy. Willow. Lily's." He said, stowing the wand in another part of his robes.
"And the last. Thirteen and a half. Yew. Fawkes?" He called.
Fawkes appeared with a flash, and seemed to nod emphatically.
"And a phoenix feather as a core. Tom Riddle's wand." He said gravely, handing the wand to Fawkes, "Take it to Hogwarts, dear friend."
Fawkes disappeared. Dumbledore, too, spun on his heel, and disappeared with a soft pop.
Dumbledore appeared in front of Hagrid, taking the sleeping Harry from the startled giant's arms, gently disentangling the small fist from the wild beard.
"I know I told you to take him over to Privet Drive, Hagrid, but certain circumstances have forced my hand, and I will be placing Harry somewhere safer," Dumbledore informed the giant calmly, "Now I instead require you to go to Hogwarts and inform Minerva that I will not be returning for the night. Can you do that for me?"
"Al'right… Could I- could I just say goodbye to him, sir?" Hagrid asked thickly.
Without waiting for an answer, he leaned his head forward, and kissed Harry softly on the forehead. Sniffing heavily, he turned and climbed astride a huge motorcycle hidden in the shadows. Dumbledore's eyes seemed to twinkle a little in recognition, but they quickly dimmed as he asked a question.
"Was that bike Sirius Black's, Hagrid?" He asked heavily.
"Aye professor, he bequeathed it to me; knew I always wanted a safe form of magical transport… good man, he was." Hagrid answered in the same tone.
Dumbledore turned and looked at the moon, as Hagrid revved the engine, and then rose up, off the ground, flying into the sky. He then looked down at the peacefully sleeping baby.
"We're alike, Harry, you and I. Neither of us has an ounce of family left in this world. We're loners; destined for greatness and hardship; inheritors of great power and intelligence. Our fates are bound together in more than one way; we're two of a kind. Let's see how we do on this next journey of life."
Dumbledore glanced once more at the moon, and then spun on his heel, disappearing.