Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter or it's characters. They belong to Ms. J.K. Rowling. These characters and ideas of Ms. Rowling is being used for purely entertainment purposes. They are not in any means, being used to gain commercial profit. However, I do claim copyright to any original character or idea (Is there any?) of the story.
On with the story now since legal part is behind us.
The night air was particularly chilly that morning on Privet Drive. The cool air residing over the land meeting with the warmer air rolling in from the sea had caused a thick, dense fog that shrouded everything within it.
The street was deadly still. People were still in their slumber, resting their body and mind before the grueling tasks of daylight that lay ahead. A few people, namely people in their late teen years, had just returned from their late-night outing, but that was a different story altogether.
The stillness, however, had one sole exception.
A coo.
More specifically, a cooing from an infant.
The outer atmosphere of the Privet Drive was occasionally disturbed by a baby's incoherent sounding which originated from the steps that led up to the Number 4 Privet Drive.
Tightly wrapped up in a bundle of blanket to keep him in the cold air, the baby made a gurgling noise occasionally to let the world around him know that he was indeed awake. The only possession he held was the small letter in a white envelope resting on top of him. However, for many people, only one proof was needed for his identification. The scar.
The seemingly out of placed scar on his forehead was the proof of his identity, as well as his history and destiny. The scar, shaped like a lightening bolt proved that the infant was, indeed Harry Potter. The people who had left him there had hoped that the infant would be found by the residents of the household, and be raised by them. However, Lady Faith, as well as some interesting band of people, begged to differ.
Just prior to the breaking of dawn, a silent footstep was heard in middle of the deserted street. Breaking away from his one-sided conversation with the pot of daisies, the infant redirected his attention at the source of the disturbance. Since he could not move his body just yet, he had no choice but to listen as the footstep got closer and closer... and stopped.
For a while nothing happened, and as with baby's short attention span, Harry was beginning to lose his interest. Until new face appeared within the parameter his sight that is. A face of a youthful woman, in her early 20s perhaps, with a pair of kind, azure eyes that stared directly into Harry's bright emerald one.
She looked into his curious eyes and smiled. A strand of her long, curly light brown hair fell out of it's place and obscured her vision, but she bent down lower to scoop the baby Harry up from the cold cement block. Putting the lock of brown hair behind her ears, she cradled Harry carefully.
Harry wiggled to loosen his arms out of the tight bindings. Finally, after some effort, he drew his arm out of the blanket. With a smile for his achievement, he reached out, and grabbed handful of her clothing. The elegant navy-blue robe crumbled as the baby grabbed and pulled at it, but the woman seemed uncaring for the fate of her attire. Instead, she simply watched, with a thin smile playing her lips, as the baby explored the new silky material with his tiny hands.
After some time of watching, her lips finally parted.
"I wish we could have met at a different time, at different circumstances Harry. It would have been better, for all of us."
He only stared back questioningly at her, and she couldn't help but break into a full smile at his naive expression.
"How silly of me. Harry, say goodbye to your family. Because we aren't coming back for many years."
She closed her eyes as the space around her began to distort. It was only for a short moment, but her figure glowed in holy blue light. She disappeared short moment later, taking baby Harry with him.
Several hours later, Petunia Dursley stepped out of the comforts of her house to get the milk and the morning paper, completely unaware of the events of the morning and the unexpected twist of destiny for her long forgotten nephew. She scooped down to retrieve the bottle of milk when she noticed something. Had the daisies always been so tall? She wondered inwardly. That thought, however, was interrupted by the morning paper landing at, and quite literally AT her foot.
The entire Privet Drive woke to the unpleasant sound of rude profanities being said at a tone formerly believed to be impossible to achieve with a humane vocal cord.
****
THE BOY WHO LIVED RUMORED TO BE MISSING!
There are some preliminary reports which reports Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived is missing. Although the Ministry of Magic had refused to comment, our own sources tell that Harry Potter was to be raised by a muggle family in relations to now diseased Lillian Potter. He was left on front of their doorstep to be picked up by the family. However, he now seems to have disappeared.
The muggle family, in the name of Dursley had flat-out refused to be interviewed, saying that they do not know of any Harry or Lillian Potter.
There is a atmosphere of fear spreading throughout the magical community, questioning whether this was the work of the Death Eaters, or You-Know-Who-Should-Not-Be-Named himself. Is the Boy-Who-Lived really gone? If not, then where is he? Better yet, who is holding him, and for what intention?
-Rita Skeeter