AUTHOR NOTE: Please read at least the second chapter before switching to an entirely different story. If you're in a hurry, skip to chapter 2. Please enjoy, and R&R!
One night, at a particularly dark time, Privet Drive greeted a guest. An old man, wearing robes walked through the street. He stopped to take out a mechanical device, and the light disappears from the lampposts.
Somewhere nearby, a tabby cat was seated on a brick wall. But of course, this was no ordinary cat, and the old man knew this very well.
"I should have known that you would be here... Professor McGonagall," said the man.
The cat, also aware of its non-human properties within, transfigured into its natural form: a woman Professor.
"Good evening, Professor Dumbledore." she said. The two walked in the same direction together. "The rumours... are they true, Albus?"
"I'm afraid so, my dear Professor." The old man replied. "The good, and the bad."
"...And the boy?"
"Hagrid is bringing him."
McGonagall paused. "Do you think it wise to trust Hagrid with something as important as this?"
Dumbledore smiled. "I would trust Hagrid with my life."
A loud a sharp motor sound pierces the night. The two Professors looked up, seeing a flying motorcycle coming down from the air. It skidded noisily on the street, and came to a halt. A large man, the driver, took off his goggles. This was Hagrid.
"Professor Dumbledore, Sir... Professor McGonagall."
"No problems, Hagrid?" Dumbledore asked his old friend.
"No, sir." Hagrid reassured. "Little tyke fell asleep just as we were flying over Bristol. Tried not to wake him..."
Hagrid's abnormally large hands passed over a baby to the older Professor.
"Albus," McGonagall whispered urgently. "Do you really think its safe, leaving him with these people? They're the worst of Muggles. They really are—"
"The only family he has." Dumbledore nodded sadly.
The misfit group of wizards comes to a stop, at Number 4. McGonagall looked down at the baby, now resting in Dumbledore's arms. "This boy will be famous. There will not be a child in our world who doesn't know his name."
"And he's better off growing up away from all that. Only until he is ready..."
The large man, Hagrid, began to cry big and wet tears from his small eyes.
Dumbledore turned to him. "There, there, Hagrid. It's not really good-bye, after all."
Hagrid nodded in agreement. Dumbledore took a letter from his robes and placed it on the baby, near the mat of the door. The baby had a lightning-bolt shaped scar on his forehead.
"Good luck... Harry Potter."