Chapter 1: Famous for the Wrong Reasons
The lights disappeared on a dark street in Surrey called Privet Drive. A figure with a long silvery bread walked along the street, its long billowing cloak shrouded completely in darkness. A peculiarly stiff cat watched it as it passed.
"Is that you, Professor?" The figure in the robe looked at the cat, but it was replaced by a woman who looked as stiff as the cat was.
"How did you know it was me?"
"I have never seen a cat stand that still." He smiled. "How do you think he will grow up?"
"These Muggles are horrifyingly, well, normal. There's just no other way to describe them."
A loud revving could be heard behind them. A gigantic motorcycle zoomed into view. The rider was carrying a small bundle.
"Good evening, Rubeus. How is he?"
"He's asleep now. Fell asleep as we were flying over Birmingham."
The group walked up to the door of the house Number Four.
The man in the cloak took the bundle from the motorcycle rider and set it on the doorstep. He took a letter from the inside pocket of his robe and set it on the bundle.
"You will always be watched," he said, almost inaudibly, "Harry Potter."
A child's face could be seen. There was a lightning bolt-shaped scar on its forehead.
"He will not grow up normally, not like the rest of us."
He rang the doorbell. A light turned on.
"And he will be famous for the wrong reasons."
The door opened and a woman screamed. The people were gone, but the baby was still on the doorstep.