"James and Lily, dead?" cries Minerva McGonagall, a stout witch wearing an emerald-green cloak. "I can't believe it, Albus. The smartest and bravest people, dead! And who is their son going to live with?"
Albus Dumbledore smiled wanly. "At this very home we are at." He waved his hand towards the neat, prim house of Number 4, Privet Drive. This comment produced a screech from Minerva, whose face had turned a puce color.
"Y - You're not being serious, are you, Albus? Th - These people are horrible. I can't believe you'd send off a famous wizard to a home like this. I was here all day, and they have the worst son. I don't want Harry Potter living with a disgruntled 'tyke' like that fat baby." she spat disgustedly. "What about the Longbottoms? Or...the Weasleys? We certainly cannot have a wizard, and a good one, at a Muggle's house. I won't permit it, Albus."
Dumbledore kept smiling as he rummaged through a worn pocket in his very own cloak. Mumbling something to himself, he popped open a sack of what looked to be sweets. "Aha! Now, Minerva, where's your manners?" He stopped and waited for a second, as it looked like Minerva wanted to shout something at him angrily. After another second of waiting, he said, "Want a lemon sherbet? It's a Muggle sweet I'm rather fond of."
"I'm rather fond of Harry going to a wizard family, Albus." Minerva retorted, and Dumbledore laughed.
Chuckling, he replied, "Alright. You've got me convinced, but, Minerva - famous before he can walk and talk? It's enough to make every boy's head turn. It's too much."
"Where is he, anyway? Harry?" Minerva suddenly asked, and, as soon as those words left her mouth, a shuddering noise came from the sky.
"Hagrid is bringing him," Dumbledore said calmly, as if it was usual. "But I must tell him there is, ahem, a change of plans."
With a putt and a crunch, a ginormous motorcycle fell from the sky. A man, if you could call him that, was holding a small little bundle. Harry.
...
"What is this?" A woman with blonde hair creaked open the large sliding door. Her night robe was dirty and her lips were dry and chapped. "A baby? I - I, Dumbledore, my hands are full with one -"
Dumbledore raised a slender hand. "This is Harry Potter, Narcissa. Would you like Harry Potter to go to a Muggle home?" When Narcissa straightened and shook her head, Dumbledore continued. "So take him in, and treat him well. Make him the wizard he was meant to be."
And with that, Dumbledore placed the now awake and crying baby into Narcissa's awaiting hands. He gave a nod towards the bundle and strode off out of the long, wide driveway and disappeared into the night.
...
Chapter 2 - Ten Years Later:
"Wake up, wake up, wake up!" said young Draco, shaking Harry awake. Harry was now eleven years old and fully aware of his wizard roots. "Come on! Dad and Mum want us to go to Diagon Alley later and if you don't wake up now, we can't go!"
This finally woke Harry. "Ok, I'll be down in a minute." He jumped out of bed and crammed his glasses on his face as quickly as possible, then shook on his fuzzy slippers and raced down the stairs, Draco telling him to wait behind him.
He zoomed into the kitchen and almost fell over. "Mmmm, what smells good?" Harry asked, his mouth watering.
Narcissa fished out a pancake and slid it onto Harry's plate. Draco ran into Harry and almost made him fall over. "Sorry. I didn't see you," he apologized, sitting down on the right of Harry. "Pancakes! Yay!"
Lucius Malfoy swept into the room, his pallid face paler as ever. "Narcissa, dear, I told you not to make Muggle meals."
"But, Lucius -"
"I'm not eating it." he cut across Narcissa and sat down with an awful formality. "I'd like kippers and toast. Dobby!"
Dobby the house-elf was a tiny thing, he wore ragged clothes and looked like a muddy rat. "Yes, master? Master wants kippers. Dobby will get kippers for master!"
Draco and Harry collapsed into silent giggles and they both began to wolf down their still hot pancakes.
...
Later that morning, the four of them headed to Diagon Alley to buy school equipment. They were a silent and rigid quartet and left the Manor as soon as possible.
"An owl! Dad, can I -" Draco whimpered, holding his face into the window to see the flying owls.
Lucius glared at Draco and replied, "No."
Draco slumped and kept walking. "Can I at least have a -"
"No."
"But Dad -" he nagged.
"Draco, if I have to say no one more time..." Lucius said warningly, shaking a reproving finger. "You need robes first: Harry, go with Narcissa to get robes, Draco, you stay with me, we can get your wand."
Harry glanced at Draco. "I wanted to get my wand with Draco, though, Dad." Harry informed his father.
Lucius didn't notice Harry as he took Draco by his shoulder and walked away. "Sorry about your father, dear." Narcissa sighed, steering Harry in Madam Malkin's.
...
"A wand?" implied Ollivander, as Harry and Narcissa walked into his wand shop. "Now, sit down and I'll measure you: wand arm?"
Harry hesitated. "Right arm."
Ollivander snorted and took out a slender box. "Eleven inches, oak and holly feather, nice and springy. No, no, no - Ten and a half inches, elder snag, dragon heartstring, soft and good for Potions. No, try - no. This one!" Ollivander announced. He handed a straight and pointy wand and sparks flew out of it's tip. "This is the one. Ten galleons."
Narcissa smiled and handed over ten galleons, her eyes bright. Harry fingered the wand, his eyes searching it over. "Thank you."
And they exited, striding out with long steps. Soon after that, they met up with Draco, who was equally excited. "I got a nine inch fern root wand. 'Easy and light, perfect for Charms'."
The brothers entered Malfoy Manor property and walked upstairs to their room, Narcissa and Lucius talking animatedly in the background.
...