*winky impression* I is not knowing how to own this, sir!

Minerva McGonagall lay, curled on her side, face pressed into the grass. She tensed as a group of nine-year old boys waddled past. Confound it. They saw her. Faces lit up with fiendish glee, they immediately picked up small rocks from the road underfoot and proceeded to sprint in her direction, flinging them with questionable aim. She snarled and darted to a safer hiding spot. This was even worse than the little girl who squeezed her as tight as she could, whispering in Minerva's ear how lovely and precious she was. A memory she would soon like to forget.

It was quite impossible to remain dignified when one was a cat. This was a lesson she had been learning all day.

But her efforts would not be wasted. She had come here for a purpose, and that purpose she would fulfill. Before the day was out, Albus Dumbledore would make an appearance on Privet Drive. This she was sure of.

Suddenly, a voice shattered her musings. "Won't!"

Minerva slunk across the street, wary of more passerby. The way was clear. Yes, it was definitely Number 4 that the ruckus was coming from. She leapt onto the windowsill and cautiously peered into the Muggle dwelling.

Sitting on his plastic (highchair) throne was young Dudley Dursley himself, busy lording it over the other inhabitants of his home– namely, his mother. Petunia was bustling around him, trying to pry the lid off a rather discolored jar of baby food. "Little Dudders is going to feel tired if he doesn't get some food into that little belly of his!" Little Dudders roared and pounded on his tray, the flab on his arms bouncing appallingly.

At last Petunia succeeded in unscrewing the jar. "Now open up, and the delicious corn and peas will make Little Dudders into a big boy! Little Dudders must eat if he wants to grow big and strong!"

Dudley made a face and shoved his finger up his nose. As his mother brought the spoon closer and closer to his mouth, he began to shriek. "Won't! Won't! Won't!" He swung a chubby fist, knocking the goop onto the linoleum floor.

Minerva could take no more. She retreated to the shade beneath a towering oak and stretched out on her back. However, even the joy of the sun hitting her belly– you're not really a cat, Minerva! she reminded herself– could not wipe the disgusting scene from her mind. She stayed clear of Muggles at the best of times, but these truly put all others to shame.

As the light began to fade, she heard a car approaching. It entered the driveway of Number 4. Another Dursley, then. Minerva walked towards the car and sat down. Perhaps she might overhear him telling his wife something, anything, of what had gone on that day. Where was Dumbledore?

The great mass of a man narrowed his beady eyes at Minerva. His moustache bristled as he attempted to shoo her. What a fool. She enjoyed thinking of all the spells she could cast on him if she found it necessary, then remembered that only Dark wizards entertained such thoughts. Well, if all Muggles behaved like Vernon Dursley, even Dumbledore would find no fault in the Death Eaters' escapades.

The Death Eaters. He-Must-Not-Be-Named, the Potters, dead.

She was still waiting for Dumbledore.

The evening continued to pass, and she listened with indignation as the Muggle news discussed all of the peculiar happenings of the day. Insanity, it was pure insanity for her kind to behave like this, in full view of Muggles.

And then Vernon began to speak of the Potters.

Then it was true. Or, at least, parts of the rumor were true. The rest would have to be confirmed by Dumbledore. And really, he would have to show up quite soon. Minerva knew he would feel personally obligated to deliver the news of Lily's death. For all his faults, Albus was a compassionate man. She only hoped he would find a suitable family for the boy. The news of the Potters' demise, if it was true, had broken her heart. While much of the pain was for the loss of two of her favorite students, it also grieved her to think of poor Harry's situation. If anyone could locate a wonderful Wizarding family to bring up the boy, giving him the love and attention he had lost from his parents, Dumbledore would be the one to find them.

And, with any luck, this family would live as far from Privet Drive as possible.