Disaster
Smoke was flying through the air, polluting it with its fumes, surrounding the large amount of debris that once was a home; the night sky made the scene more disturbing. The nice, quiet village of Godric's Hollow was filled with cries of a baby, nestled between a few strays of debris.
A somewhat feet away, a loud pop was heard, and there stood a sleek motorcycle and a giant of a man in the middle of the street. He had long, bushy black hair, with a long beard to match. He wore a large brown overcoat over his clothes, to keep out the cold London night air. As soon as he heard the baby's cries, he rushed over to the fallen house, gently pushing aside bricks, wood and plaster to get to the babe, picking him up and cradling the lad as if he was as fragile as a porcelain china doll. The man started walking over to the bike, when he heard a pitter patter of feet nearby, followed by a whimper. A bush rattled, and out came a large looking wolf/dog; light brown in colour. It trotted over to the man and baby, its head down and tail between its legs. The man smiled a sad smile.
"'Ello there, Gratia," he said, looking down upon the canine. 'Gratia' looked over to the debris, and gave a quiet whimper. The giant gave a shaky sighed, "Sad, ain't it?" The canine looked at him and gazed into his eyes; brown looking down at dull, sad silver. It backed up a little, before it heaved itself up onto its hind legs. Fur started shrinking into the skin, arms and legs became straighter and paws soon became hands and feet, the head formed into a round shape; snout shrinking into a simple nose, ears moving downwards and becoming more human shaped, and fur on top of the head grew longer. Now standing on front of the man was a woman; probably in her mid-thirties, with pale skin, light brown hair and sad silver eyes.
"Yeah," she said. She had a bit of an Italian accent, "Very sad, indeed…" She was short, a little shorter than the average woman; about 5'3, but she had a few muscles, showing that she was fit. She looked over to the baby, whom had pale skin; some shades lighter than the woman's, and messy black hair. He was settled in a thick blanket to ward off the air. She sighed, relieved. "I'm glad that the young one's safe", she whispered. The man smiled a bit, and gave her a one-armed hug.
"I need teh get 'im to Dumbledore soon", he explained, as he let go of Gratia. She nodded.
"Would you mind if I come?" she asked, her eyes pleading. He shook his head.
"Not at all", he replied. They hopped onto the motorcycle, and soon, they were flying over London, and when they flew over Bristle, the babe then fell asleep.