Switched at Birth 'Hogwarts Edition'

by CityofGallifrey

What if Ron thought he was 'the boy who lived' and so did every one else? What if Harry was an orphan brought into the Weasley family? What if Harry was a Slytherin? What if Hermione was Draco's boyfriend and a Ravenclaw? What if Voldemort lost his memory and became an ordinary wizard and Defense of the Dark Arts teacher? What is Hermione's secret? For all this and more read this.

A cat was sitting on the edge of the drive at number four, Privet Drive. It was a tabby cat with strange markings around its eyes and it was sitting upright, stiffly, almost as if it were keeping watch. Its eyes were stormy as she looked around warily. The fat man was suspicious of her, and she couldn't afford to waste another second. Suddenly, the cat turned its head, hissing. Where it was staring, was a man smiling at it, as if he knew its secret.

He was a tall man, and wore a purple cloak. He had long silver hair and a long beard, and electric sparkling blue eyes. He wore boots and glasses and had a crooked nose. Albus Dumbledore pulled out a device and turned off the lights on that street. He walked over to the cat.

Except there was no cat anymore. Professor Minerva McGonagall was standing there, staring at him with a calm look on her face. She wore square glasses and a emerald cloak. She tilted her head in acknowledgement.

"Headmaster."

"Professor."

"Where's Hagrid?"

"Coming with the baby."

Quickly, a flying boat leapt out of the sky. It was shuddering horribly from the weight of a large man and a bundle nestled in his arms. Paint was peeling off its sides, but you could make out a derelict 'S. ' on the side. The man had a beard and patched coat and covered the width of the small rowboat. The boat almost crashed to the ground, surrounded by a magical haze and smoke.

"Sorry for the mess, sir." Hagrid apologized. "The Death Eaters was swarmin' around and I wasn' able to get it workin' properly. 'e's here."

The giant handed the blanket-swaddled bundle to Dumbledore. A small round face, framed by small wisps of orange hair, stared back. He was wide awake as he took in his surroundings. A smatter of freckles fell across his button nose.

"Got to add a scar," Dumbledore muttered under his breath. "Or else they'll notice."

Professor McGonagall was chatting gravely, but animatedly with Hagrid, who was crying, off to the side. Imagining what he needed for the scar shape, Dumbledore touched his wand tip to the baby's forehead, and a complete copy was etched on his forehead. He channeled all the power from his wand's previous use, draining power from a scar, and pulled it in to one spell.

He carried the baby in one hand, and a letter in the other as he beckoned the others to the front doorstep. Dumbledore set the packages down carefully and bid farewell to his companions, of which Hagrid, was still sobbing.

Cracks of noise split through the usually impeccably quiet street, as Dumbledore, and Professor McGonagall Apparated, and Hagrid flew off in the decaying boat.