Discliamer: see chapter before.
A/N: Hi again! I hope you like this chapter. Thank you to Disney-Princess-In-Disguise, TitansRule and LaviAllenKanda for reviewing! Enjoy.
Suddenly several sofas and tables appeared. One of them had a stack of seven books on. Rose picked up the top book and read "Harry Potter and the Philosophers' Stone"
Harry, Ron and Hermione shared a look reminiscing that year. Dumbledore saw this and had a twinkle in his eye. The future kids saw this and smiled. They liked seeing their parents/aunt and uncles be this close as friends. Rose turned the first page.
Chapter 1: The Boy Who Lived
"What the hell does that mean?" Sirius asked.
"If you're going to do that at the beginning of every chapter I will hex you." Lily said.
"I don't doubt you will, Evans" Sirius chuckled.
"Don't laugh I'm serious."
"No you're not I am!" Sirius blurted out, laughing more as he dodged a well aimed hex.
Mr. and Mrs. Dursley,
"Oh no." Lily said.
"Now look who's interrupting." Sirius said.
"What?" James asked ignoring Sirius (as most people did).
"My sister's boyfriend is called Vernon Dursley. This could mean her and she's a- she's horrible." Lily said, preventing herself from swearing in front of younger children.
"It doesn't mean that it is definitely them." Remus said.
Lily looked at Harry and he nodded. She groaned and motioned for Rose to carry on reading.
of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much. They were the last people you'd expect to be involved in anything strange or mysterious, because they just didn't hold with such nonsense.
Mr. Dursley was the director of a firm called Grunnings, which made drills. He was a big, beefy man with hardly any neck, although he did have a very large moustache. Mrs. Dursley was thin and blonde and had nearly twice the usual amount of neck, which came in very useful as she spent so much of her time craning over garden fences, spying on the neighbours.
"Ha! Hasn't changed much then." Severus said, laughing.
"How do you know her?" Harry asked surprised.
"Your mum used to live down the road from me. I told her she was a witch when she was nine." Severus said, smiling at the memory.
Everyone sat there in stunned silence so Rose continued to read.
The Dursleys had a small son called Dudley and in their opinion there was no finer boy anywhere.
Harry snorted. The Potter children looked slightly disgruntled- they saw Dudley quite a bit. Harry and him got along quite well in their time.
The Dursleys had everything they wanted, but they also had a secret, and their greatest fear was that somebody would discover it. They didn't think they could bear it if anyone found out about the Potters.
"Hey! What's wrong with the Potters?" James, Harry, James, Albus and Lily said.
"Well, this James is a bit of a git, but I'm sure the rest of you are alright!" Sirius shouted causing everyone to laugh and James to hit him over the head with a pillow that suddenly appeared next to him.
Mrs. Potter was Mrs. Dursley's sister, but they hadn't met for several years; in fact, Mrs. Dursley pretended she didn't have a sister, because her sister and her good-for-nothing husband were as unDursleyish When Mr. and Mrs. Dursley woke up on the dull, gray Tuesday our story starts, there was nothing about the cloudy sky outside to suggest that strange and mysterious things would soon be happening all over the country. Mr. Dursley hummed as he picked out his most boring tie for work.
"Why would anyone put on their most boring tie ever?" Sirius said.
"How are we supposed to know? Now SHUT UP!" Lily shouted.
and Mrs. Dursley gossiped away happily as she wrestled a screaming Dudley into his high chair.
"Sounds like a delightful child." Lily muttered, sarcastically.
None of them noticed a large, tawny owl flutter past the window. At half past eight, Mr. Dursley picked up his briefcase, pecked Mrs. Dursley on the cheek, and tried to kiss Dudley good-bye but missed, because Dudley was now having a tantrum and throwing his cereal at the walls.
"Little tyke," chortled Mr. Dursley as he left the house. He got into his car and backed out of number four's drive.
It was on the corner of the street that he noticed the first sign of something peculiar — a cat reading a map.
"Bet that it's MINNIE!" Sirius and James shouted together.
"I told you not to call me that, boys." McGonagall said.
"Fred, we have to start calling her that." James whispered loudly at the same time as George said the exact same thing.
"Ahh, new generations of Marauders at work." Sirius said, grinning at James and Remus.
"Marauders?" Fred said.
"You can't be." George said.
"Messers..." They said together.
"Moony?" Fred said.
"Wormtail?" George said.
"Padfoot?" Fred said.
"And Prongs?" George said
"The makers of the Marauder's Map!" They said together.
"Yeah. I'm Prongs. Sirius is Padfoot. Remus is Mooney and Peter is Wormtail." James said. The future children frowned at the mention of Peter along with Harry, Ron and Hermione.
"And you know this because..." Remus said.
"We nicked the map from Filch's office in first year." Fred said.
"YOU WHAT!" Molly shouted.
"But we gave it to Harry in third year, so he could sneak to Hogsmede." George said, ignoring his mother.
"It turns out he was the rightful owner anyway." They said together.
"How come you two know about us then?" Sirius asked James and Fred.
"Dad told me stories about you. And for the record, I nicked the map from Dad's draw before we left for Hogwarts, first year." James said, smiling.
"You do realise I know that now?" Harry said.
"Yes, but you won't remember." James said, as everyone laughed. Rose continued shaking her head.
For a second, Mr. Dursley didn't realize what he had seen — then he jerked his head around to look again. There was a tabby cat standing on the corner of Privet Drive, but there wasn't a map in sight. What could he have been thinking of? It must have been a trick of the light. Mr. Dursley blinked and stared at the cat. It stared back. As Mr. Dursley drove around the corner and up the road, he watched the cat in his mirror. It was now reading the sign that said Privet Drive — no, looking at the sign; cats couldn't read maps or signs.
Mr. Dursley gave himself a little shake and put the cat out of his mind. As he drove toward town he thought of nothing except a large order of drills he was hoping to get that day.
But on the edge of town, drills were driven out of his mind by something else. As he sat in the usual morning traffic jam, he couldn't help noticing that there seemed to be a lot of strangely dressed people about. People in cloaks.
"That's not strange." Ron said.
"It is for Muggles." Hermione, Rose, Lily, Severus and surprisingly Sirius answered. Everyone gave him an incredulous look.
"What? I took Muggle Studies and got an O for your information!" Sirius said looking smug.
"And you actually studied." James asked, shocked.
"It would annoy 'Mummy-dearest' the most." Sirius said, chuckling darkly.
Mr. Dursley couldn't bear people who dressed in funny clothes — the getups you saw on young people! He supposed this was some stupid new fashion. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel and his eyes fell on a huddle of these weirdoes standing quite close by. They were whispering excitedly together.
"I wonder what happened." Remus wondered out loud, while the people from the future frowned.
Mr. Dursley was enraged to see that a couple of them weren't young at all; why, that man had to be older than he was, and wearing an emerald-green cloak! The nerve of him! But then it struck Mr. Dursley that this was probably some silly stunt —these people were obviously collecting for something… yes, that would be it.
"Muggles will believe anything to distract them from magic." Lily said, shaking her head disapprovingly.
"Better that than exposure." Severus said thoughtfully.
The traffic moved on and a few minutes later, Mr. Dursley arrived in the Grunnings parking lot, his mind back on drills.
"How interesting." Sirius said, sarcastically.
Mr. Dursley always sat with his back to the window in his office on the ninth floor. If he hadn't, he might have found it harder to concentrate on drills that morning. He didn't see the owls swooping past in broad daylight, though people down in the street did; they pointed and gazed open-mouthed as owl after owl sped overhead.
Most of them had never seen an owl even at nighttime. Mr. Dursley, however, had a perfectly normal, owl-free morning. He yelled at five different people. He made several important telephone calls and shouted a bit more.
"Eurgh. He's your brother-in-law, Prongs." Sirius said, digusted.
James pulled a face.
He was in a very good mood until lunchtime, when he thought he'd stretch his legs and walk across the road to buy himself a bun from the bakery.
He'd forgotten all about the people in cloaks until he passed a group of them next to the baker's. He eyed them angrily as he passed. He didn't know why, but they made him uneasy.
This bunch were whispering excitedly, too, and he couldn't see a single collecting tin. It was on his way back past them, clutching a large doughnut in a bag, that he caught a few words of what they were saying.
"The Potters, that's right, that's what I heard —"
" — yes, their son, Harry —"
"Oh no." Lily said and this time noticed the expressions of those from the future darken.
Mr. Dursley stopped dead.
Fear flooded him. He looked back at the whisperers as if he wanted to say something to them, but thought better of it.
He dashed back across the road, hurried up to his office, snapped at his secretary not to disturb him, seized his telephone, and had almost finished dialling his home number when he changed his mind. He put the receiver back down and stroked his moustache, thinking… no, he was being stupid.
"Well, duh." Sirius said, ignoring Lily's glare.
Potter wasn't such an unusual name. He was sure there were lots of people called Potter who had a son called Harry. Come to think of it, he wasn't even sure his nephew was called Harry.
"That's horrible." Molly said, shaking her head at Harry's dispicable uncle.
He'd never even seen the boy. It might have been Harvey. Or Harold.
Fred and George sniggered.
"Harvey Potter, has quite a nice ring to it, doesn't it Harry?" George said.
There was no point in worrying Mrs. Dursley; she always got so upset at any mention of her sister. He didn't blame her — if he'd had a sister like that…
"Hey what's wrong with Lily/ Mum/ Grandma/ Mrs. Potter?" almost everyone said even Severus quietly.
"Thanks, but I'm not Mrs. Potter..." she hesitated. "Yet."
It took James a few seconds to comprehend what Lily had just said.
"YES!" James shouted as he stood up transformed into a stag and did a few laps around the room. As he returned he turned back into himself and spontaneously kissed Lily. Lily surprised both him and herself by kissing him back.
Nearly everyone was whooping and cheering (particularly Sirius and Remus). When they broke apart Lily was blushing and James had a massive smile plastered on his face. Lily quickly motioned for Rose to continue before Sirius could comment.
but all the same, those people in cloaks…
He found it a lot harder to concentrate on drills that afternoon and when he left the building at five o'clock, he was still so worried that he walked straight into someone just outside the door.
"Sorry," he grunted, as the tiny old man stumbled and almost fell. It was a few seconds before Mr. Dursley realized that the man was wearing a violet cloak. He didn't seem at all upset at being almost knocked to the ground. On the contrary, his face split into a wide smile and he said in a squeaky voice that made passersby stare, "Don't be sorry, my dear sir, for nothing could upset me today! Rejoice, for You-Know-Who has gone at last!
"What!" everyone from the past said.
"Voldemort's gone?" James said, shocked.
"For now." Hermione muttered to herself.
Remus' head raised. Werewolf senses could be useful now and again.
Even Muggles like yourself should be celebrating, this happy, happy day!"
And the old man hugged Mr. Dursley around the middle and walked off.
Mr. Dursley stood rooted to the spot. He had been hugged by a complete stranger. He also thought he had been called a Muggle, whatever that was. He was rattled. He hurried to his car and set off for home, hoping he was imagining things, which he had never hoped before, because he didn't approve of imagination.
As he pulled into the driveway of number four, the first thing he saw—and it didn't improve his mood — was the tabby cat he'd spotted that morning.
"Minnie." James, Sirius, James, Fred, Gred and Forge all sang.
"Shut up!" Lily and Rose said together.
It was now sitting on his garden wall. He was sure it was the same one; it had the same markings around its eyes.
"I think it might be Minnie." Fred whispered loudly to George.
"Shoo!" said Mr. Dursley loudly
The cat didn't move. It just gave him a stern look.
"Definitely Minnie." James and James said together.
"You know that look too, huh?" James asked his grandson.
"Yep." James said.
"I'm so proud." James said, pretending to wipe a tear from his eye.
"Merlin, help me." McGonagall muttered to herself. Dumbledore smiled as he was the only one who heard.
Was this normal cat behaviour? Mr. Dursley wondered. Trying to pull himself together, he let himself into the house. He was still determined not to mention anything to his wife.
Mrs. Dursley had had a nice, normal day. She told him over dinner all about Mrs. Next Door's problems with her daughter and how Dudley had learned a new word ("Won't!"). Mr. Dursley tried to act normally. When Dudley had been put to bed, he went into the living room in time to catch the last report on the evening news:
"And finally, bird-watchers everywhere have reported that the nation's owls have been behaving very unusually today. Although owls normally hunt at night and are hardly ever seen in daylight, there have been hundreds of sightings of these birds flying in every direction since sunrise. Experts are unable to explain why the owls have suddenly changed their sleeping pattern." The newscaster allowed himself a grin. "Most mysterious. And now, over to Jim McGuffin with the weather. Going to be any more showers of owls tonight, Jim?"
"Well, Ted," said the weatherman, "I don't know about that, but it's not only the owls that have been acting oddly today. Viewers as far apart as Kent, Yorkshire, and Dundee have been phoning in to tell me that instead of the rain I promised yesterday, they've had a downpour of shooting stars! Perhaps people have been celebrating Bonfire Night early — it's not until next week, folks! But I can promise a wet night tonight."
Mr. Dursley sat frozen in his armchair. Shooting stars all over Britain? Owls flying by daylight? Mysterious people in cloaks all over the place? And a whisper, a whisper about the Potters…
"They really are being careless, if an idiot like that can put the pieces together." Severus said.
"He does already know about the wizarding world, though." Remus pointed out. Severus just shrugged.
Mrs. Dursley came into the living room carrying two cups of tea. It was no good. He'd have to say something to her. He cleared his throat nervously. "Er — Petunia, dear — you haven't heard from your sister lately, have you?"
As he had expected, Mrs. Dursley looked shocked and angry. After all, they normally pretended she didn't have a sister.
Lily looked upset by this so James put his arm around her. Only Harry was paying attention so he smiled to himself.
"No," she said sharply. "Why?"
"Funny stuff on the news," Mr. Dursley mumbled. "Owls… shooting stars… and there were a lot of funny-looking people in town today…"
"So?" snapped Mrs. Dursley.
"Well, I just thought… maybe… it was something to do with… you know… her crowd."
"Is that supposed to mean witches and wizards?" Molly said, angrily.
"I should think so." Luna said calmly. "Although, she could mean the Blibbering Humdingers." She lowered her voice to a whisper. "People don't like to talk about them much."
Mrs. Dursley sipped her tea through pursed lips. Mr. Dursley wondered whether he dared tell her he'd heard the name "Potter." He decided he didn't dare. Instead he said, as casually as he could, "Their son — he'd be about Dudley's age now, wouldn't he?"
"I suppose so," said Mrs. Dursley stiffly.
"What's his name again? Howard, isn't it?"
"You know what Gred, I think we should start calling Harry, Howard."
"I agree Forge. Although, I much prefer Harvey."
"BOYS!" Mrs. Weasley shouted.
"Now now. Mother."
"You wouldn't want to be offensive to the Howards and Harveys of the world now."
"Would you?" They finished together.
"You quite finished?" Rose asked sternly.
"Apparently it's not just her cat she teaches to give scary looks." Fred whispered loudly.
Both Hermione and Rose glared which caused Fred to hide behind George.
Fred chuckled sadly at his Dad and Uncle. While everyone else was just laughing.
"Harry. Nasty, common name, if you ask me."
"I think it's a lovely name." Lily said, leaning over to ruffle Harry's hair. This caused Harry to blush and everyone to smile and snigger (although Draco's was more of a sneer).
"Oh, yes," said Mr. Dursley, his heart sinking horribly. "Yes, I quite agree."
He didn't say another word on the subject as they went upstairs to bed. While Mrs. Dursley was in the bathroom, Mr. Dursley crept to the bedroom window and peered down into the front garden. The cat was still there. It was staring down Privet Drive as though it were waiting for something.
"What are you waiting for, Minnie?" Sirius asked and McGonagall just rolled her eyes.
Was he imagining things? Could all this have anything to do with the Potters? If it did… if it got out that they were related to a pair of — well, he didn't think he could bear it.
The Dursleys got into bed. Mrs. Dursley fell asleep quickly but Mr. Dursley lay awake, turning it all over in his mind. His last, comforting thought before he fell asleep was that even if the Potters were involved, there was no reason for them to come near him and Mrs. Dursley. The Potters knew very well what he and Petunia thought about them and their kind… He couldn't see how he and Petunia could get mixed up in anything that might be going on — he yawned and turned over — it couldn't affect them…
How very wrong he was.
Sirius gasped dramatically and then pretended to faint until...
"Aguamenti"
Sirius transformed into a dog and then shoke his wet fur all over Remus.
"Urgh. Get off you mangy mutt!" he shouted. Snuffles liked his face and then turned back.
"Serves you right." Sirius muttered as he returned to his seat.
Mr. Dursley might have been drifting into an uneasy sleep, but the cat on the wall outside was showing no sign of sleepiness.
"Not tired, Minnie?" James said, cheekily.
It was sitting as still as a statue, its eyes fixed unblinkingly on the far corner of Privet Drive. It didn't so much as quiver when a car door slammed on the next street, nor when two owls swooped overhead. In fact, it was nearly midnight before the cat moved at all.
A man appeared on the corner the cat had been watching, appeared so suddenly and silently you'd have thought he'd just popped out of the ground. The cat's tail twitched and its eyes narrowed.
Sirius wolf-whistled. "Got a boyfriend, Minnie?"
McGonagall transfigured him into a sheep.
Nothing like this man had ever been seen on Privet Drive. He was tall, thin, and very old, judging by the silver of his hair and beard, which were both long enough to tuck into his belt. He was wearing long robes, a purple cloak that swept the ground, and high-heeled, buckled boots. His blue eyes were light, bright, and sparkling behind half-moon spectacles and his nose was very long and crooked, as though it had been broken at least twice. This man's name was Albus Dumbledore.
"Baaaaaaa."
"I think that was Sirius the sheep's way of saying 'Woo! Go Dumbledore!" James said, helpfully.
"Thank you, Mr. Potter."
Albus Dumbledore didn't seem to realize that he had just arrived in a street where everything from his name to his boots was unwelcome. He was busy rummaging in his cloak, looking for something. But he did seem to realize he was being watched, because he looked up suddenly at the cat, which was still staring at him from the other end of the street. For some reason, the sight of the cat seemed to amuse him. He chuckled and muttered, "I should have known."
"Baaa!"
"Minerva. I think it is unfair to silence, Mr. Black. He does make the reading entertaining."
And with a flick of his wand, Sirius was sat back on the sofa.
"Thanks, Professor!"
"That's quite alright. Now would you please continue, Miss Weasley."
He found what he was looking for in his inside pocket. It seemed to be a silver cigarette lighter. He flicked it open, held it up in the air, and clicked it. The nearest street lamp went out with a little pop.
"AWESOME!" The Weasley boys and Mauraders exclaimed.
He clicked it again — the next lamp flickered into darkness. Twelve times he clicked the Put-Outer, until the only lights left on the whole street were two tiny pinpricks in the distance, which were the eyes of the cat watching him. If anyone looked out of their window now, even beady-eyed Mrs. Dursley, they wouldn't be able to see anything that was happening down on the pavement. Dumbledore slipped the Put-Outer back inside his cloak and set off down the street toward number four, where he sat down on the wall next to the cat. He didn't look at it, but after a moment he spoke to it.
"Fancy seeing you here, Professor McGonagall."
"Looks like Minnie's cover is blown!" Fred said.
"Such a shame too. We had no idea it was you, honest." James said.
He turned to smile at the tabby, but it had gone. Instead he was smiling at a rather severe-looking woman who was wearing square glasses exactly the shape of the markings the cat had had around its eyes. She, too, was wearing a cloak, an emerald one. Her black hair was drawn into a tight bun. She looked distinctly ruffled. "How did you know it was me?" she asked.
"He probably knows the Minnie glare too. " Sirius suggested.
"Or maybe it's just because Dumbledore knows everything." Fred and George said together.
"I don't know everything, Mr. Weasley's. Just quite a bit." Dumbledore replied. The Weasley twins blushed while everyone laughed.
All day? When you could have been celebrating? I must have passed a dozen feasts and parties on my way here."
"Wahey! Dumbles sure knows how to live it up!" Sirius shouted.
Professor McGonagall sniffed angrily.
"Oh yes, everyone's celebrating, all right," she said impatiently. "You'd think they'd be a bit more careful, but no — even the Muggles have noticed something's going on. It was on their news."
"Tut tut, Professor. Eavesdropping, we're very disappointed." Fred and George said together.
She jerked her head back at the Dursleys' dark living-room window. "I heard it. Flocks of owls… shooting stars… Well, they're not completely stupid. They were bound to notice something. Shooting stars down in Kent — I'll bet that was Dedalus Diggle. He never had much sense."
"You can't blame them," said Dumbledore gently. "We've had precious little to celebrate for eleven years."
"Eleven years." Remus muttered. "You mean, this happens in four years time?"
"Yes, Mr. Lupin."
"I know that," said Professor McGonagall irritably. "But that's no reason to lose our heads. People are being downright careless, out on the streets in broad daylight, not even dressed in Muggle clothes, swapping rumors."
She threw a sharp, sideways glance at Dumbledore here, as though hoping he was going to tell her something, but he didn't, so she went on. "A fine thing it would be if, on the very day You-Know-Who seems to have disappeared at last, the Muggles found out about us all. I suppose he really has gone, Dumbledore?"
"It certainly seems so," said Dumbledore.
"You don't sound so sure, Professor." Severus said, but when there was no answer Rose continued.
"We have much to be thankful for. Would you care for a lemon drop?"
"A what?"
"A lemon drop. They're a kind of Muggle sweet I'm rather fond of."
Harry chuckled remembering the passwords to Dumbledore's office, but this was drowned out by the future kids laughing.
"What's so funny?" Ron asked.
"It's just." Victoire started through the laughter. "When Al was younger he always used to have lemon drops and he still does and Uncle Harry always laughs when he asks for one and now we know why."
Everyone joined in until it was quiet.
"Would you like a lemon drop, Mr. Potter?" Albus offered.
Al looked shocked but nodded and mumbled a thank you.
"No, thank you," said Professor McGonagall coldly, as though she didn't think this was the moment for lemon drops. "As I say, even if You-Know-Who has gone —"
"I would have thought you would say the name, Professor. I mean, Voldemort is only a name. It can't hurt anyone." Lily said, to her Headmistress in surprise.
"Yes well." McGonagall paused. "Continue reading, Miss Weasley."
"Avoiding the question, Professor?" Sirius teased.
"Quiet, Mr. Black."
"My dear Professor, surely a sensible person like yourself can call him by his name? All this 'You-Know-Who' nonsense — for eleven years I have been trying to persuade people to call him by his proper name: Voldemort."
Professor McGonagall flinched,
As did some of the room (all except Harry, Dumbledore, Luna, the Mauraders, Lily, Tonks and the future kids).
but Dumbledore, who was unsticking two lemon drops, seemed not to notice.
Everyone laughed.
"It all gets so confusing if we keep saying 'You-Know-Who.' I have never seen any reason to be frightened of saying Voldemort's name."
"I know you haven't," said Professor McGonagall, sounding half exasperated, half admiring. "But you're different. Everyone knows you're the only one You-Know- oh, all right, Voldemort, was frightened of."
"You flatter me," said Dumbledore calmly. "Voldemort had powers I will never have."
"Only because you're too — well —noble to use them."
"It's lucky it's dark. I haven't blushed so much since Madam Pomfrey told me she liked my new earmuffs."
"Too much information, Professor." Sirius said. Dumbledore meerly smiled with the twinkle in his eyes.
Professor McGonagall shot a sharp look at Dumbledore and said, "The owls are nothing next to the rumors that are flying around. You know what they're saying? About why he's disappeared? About what finally stopped him?"
Everyone from the past sat on the edge of their seats.
It seemed that Professor McGonagall had reached the point she was most anxious to discuss, the real reason she had been waiting on a cold, hard wall all day, for neither as a cat nor as a woman had she fixed Dumbledore with such a piercing stare as she did now. It was plain that whatever "everyone" was saying, she was not going to believe it until Dumbledore told her it was true. Dumbledore, however, was choosing another lemon drop and did not answer.
"What they're saying," she pressed on, "is that last night Voldemort turned up in Godric's Hollow. He went to find the Potters.
Everyone in the room paled. Lily was crying into James' chest again.
The rumor is that Lily and James Potter are — are — that they're — dead."
Hearing the words like that was too much for Harry. He joined in the hug with his parents, tears streaming down his face.
Dumbledore bowed his head. Professor McGonagall gasped.
"Lily and James… I can't believe it… I didn't want to believe it… Oh, Albus…"
Lily broke out of the hug and went to hug her Professor and Head of House. When she sat down Rose continued.
Dumbledore reached out and patted her on the shoulder. "I know… I know…" he said heavily.
Professor McGonagall's voice trembled as she went on. "That's not all. They're saying he tried to kill the Potter's son, Harry.
Lily gasped and grabbed Harry. She was muttering "My poor baby." as she rocked him. If the situation wasn't as serious people would probably be laughing at this, but not even Draco sneered.
"It's alright, Mum. I'm here."
"How the hell did he survive?" Sirius wondered.
But he couldn't. He couldn't kill that little boy. No one knows why, or how, but they're saying that when he couldn't kill Harry Potter, Voldemort's power somehow broke — and that's why he's gone."
"Wow. Your son defeated Voldemort! Only Prongs' son!"
"Merlin!"
"Godric! Moldyshorts is gone!"
Whilst everyone from the past took in this exciting news, the rest of the room exchanged glances. Remus remembered what Hermione muttered earlier and paled. He must come back somehow.
Dumbledore nodded glumly.
"It's — it's true?" faltered Professor McGonagall. "After all he's done… all the people he's killed… he couldn't kill a little boy? It's just astounding… of all the things to stop him… but how in the name of heaven did Harry survive?"
"That's what we're all wondering." Sirius muttered.
"We can only guess." said Dumbledore. "We may never know."
Teddy surpressed a snort. His godfather had told him everything and of course Dumbledore knew!
Professor McGonagall pulled out a lace handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes beneath her spectacles. Dumbledore gave a great sniff as he took a golden watch from his pocket and examined it. It was a very odd watch. It had twelve hands but no numbers; instead, little planets were moving around the edge. It must have made sense to Dumbledore, though, because he put it back in his pocket and said, "Hagrid's late. I suppose it was he who told you I'd be here, by the way?"
"Good 'ole Hagrid"
"Yes," said Professor McGonagall. "And I don't suppose you're going to tell me why you're here, of all places?"
"Good question." Lily said, frowning.
Rose could tell that Lily was going to take this badly. She took a deep breath before reading...
"I've come to bring Harry to his aunt and uncle. They're the only family he has left now."
"NO WAY!" Lily shrieked. "MY SISTER WILL HATE HIM! NOT ONLY IS HE MAGICAL, BUT HE'S ALSO MINE AND APPARENTLY MY SISTER HATES ME! SHE IS GOING TO TAKE IT ALL OUT ON HIM AND GIVE HIM A HORRIBLE CHILDHOOD!" Lily was crying hysterically. "WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU THINKING, DUMBLEDORE?"
"It was necessary." he muttered, scared of the redhead temper.
"WHAT ABOUT SIRIUS? REMUS? A GOOD WIZARDING FAMILY WHO WILL LOVE HIM?" Lily pointed at the Weasleys.
Dumbledore looked guilty, but stood by his arguement. Rose continued to fill the awkward silence.
"You don't mean – you can't mean the people who live here?" cried Professor McGonagall, jumping to her feet and pointing at number four. "Dumbledore — you can't. I've been watching them all day. You couldn't find two people who are less like us. And they've got this son — I saw him kicking his mother all the way up the street, screaming for sweets. Harry Potter come and live here!"
"It seems that Professor McGonagall agrees with me." Lily commented bitterly.
"It's the best place for him," said Dumbledore firmly. "His aunt and uncle will be able to explain everything to him when he's older. I've written them a letter."
"A letter?" Lily whispered dangerously. Her anger levels rising."Really?You think you can explain all this in a letter?" James hushed her to prevent her from getting into hysterics again.
"A letter?" repeated Professor McGonagall faintly, sitting back down on the wall. "Really, Dumbledore, you think you can explain all this in a letter?
"Seems that Lily is more like Minnie than we thought, hey?" Sirius joked- trying to diffuse the tension.
These people will never understand him! He'll be famous — a legend — I wouldn't be surprised if today was known as Harry Potter day in the future — there will be books written about Harry — every child in our world will know his name!"
"Wow." James and Sirius muttered together.
"Exactly." said Dumbledore, looking very seriously over the top of his half-moon glasses. "It would be enough to turn any boy's head.
"Especially Potters' son." Snivellus sneered.
Famous before he can walk and talk! Famous for something he won't even remember! Can you see how much better off he'll be, growing up away from all that until he's ready to take it?"
Lily agreed with that, but surely he could live in a Muggle neighbour hood with a family friend. Like Sirius or Remus? What about her friends? There had to be an alternative.
Professor McGonagall opened her mouth, changed her mind, swallowed, and then said, "Yes — yes, you're right, of course. But how is the boy getting here, Dumbledore?" She eyed his cloak suddenly as though she thought he might be hiding Harry underneath it.
"You better not have."
"Hagrid's bringing him."
"Oh good."
"You think it —wise — to trust Hagrid with something as important as this?"
" I trust Hagrid with my life." James said.
A chorus of "sames" came from the Gryffindor males around the room and Dumbledore nodded in agreement with his statement.
"That's a good thing too, mate. 'Cause as a baby you kinda were trusting Hagrid with your life." Ron said.
Everyone laughed.
I would trust Hagrid with my life," said Dumbledore.
"Cool, I'm like Dumbledore"
"I'm not saying his heart isn't in the right place," said Professor McGonagall grudgingly, "but you can't pretend he's not careless. He does tend to — what was that?"
"What was what? I can't hear anthing?" Sirius said. "Are you touched in the head?"
Everyone ignored him.
A low rumbling sound had broken the silence around them. It grew steadily louder as they looked up and down the street for some sign of a headlight; it swelled to a roar as they both looked up at the sky — and a huge motorcycle fell out of the air and landed on the road in front of them.
"Wow. I want one." Sirius said. While Arthur was thinking about Muggle contraptions and his car which he missed a lot.
If the motorcycle was huge, it was nothing to the man sitting astride it. He was almost twice as tall as a normal man and at least five times as wide. He looked simply too big to be allowed, and so wild — long tangles of bushy black hair and beard hid most of his face, he had hands the size of trash can lids, and his feet in their leather boots were like baby dolphins. In his vast, muscular arms he was holding a bundle of blankets.
"That must be Dad." Lily said smiling.
Harry blushed. It was weird to hear him be called Dad.
"Hagrid," said Dumbledore, sounding relieved. "At last. And where did you get that motorcycle?"
"Borrowed it, Professor Dumbledore, sir," said the giant, climbing carefully off the motorcycle as he spoke. "Young Sirius Black lent it to me.
"YES!" Sirius shouted, "I'm so cool in the future."
Harry tried to resist the urge to wince, thinking about the things Sirius will have to go through in the future.
I've got him, sir."
"No problems, were there?"
"No, sir — house was almost destroyed, but I got him out all right before the Muggles started swarmin' around. He fell asleep as we was flyin' over Bristol."
"N'awwww!" all the girls cooed, while Harry blushed and the boys sniggered/sneered.
Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall bent forward over the bundle of blankets. Inside, just visible, was a baby boy, fast asleep. Under a tuft of jet-black hair over his forehead they could see a curiously shaped cut, like a bolt of lightning.
Harry felt the people from the past's eyes drift to his scar and flatten his hair over it.
"Sorry." Lily whispered to him.
"Is that where —?" whispered Professor McGonagall.
"Yes," said Dumbledore. "He'll have that scar forever."
"Couldn't you do something about it, Dumbledore?"
"I wish." Harry muttered. Everyone who heard looked at him sympathetically.
"Even if I could, I wouldn't. Scars can come in handy. I have one myself above my left knee that is a perfect map of the London Underground.
"Really Proffessor! Can we see it, please?" Sirius exclaimed.
But, before Dumbledore could, Minerva glared at him.
Well — give him here, Hagrid — we'd better get this over with."
Dumbledore took Harry in his arms and turned toward the Dursleys' house.
"Could I — could I say good-bye to him, sir?" asked Hagrid. He bent his great, shaggy head over Harry and gave him what must have been a very scratchy, whiskery kiss. Then, suddenly, Hagrid let out a howl like a wounded dog.
The girls cooed again.
"Shhh!" hissed Professor McGonagall, "You'll wake the Muggles!"
"S-s-sorry," sobbed Hagrid, taking out a large, spotted handkerchief and burying his face in it. "But I c-c-can't stand it —Lily an' James dead — an' poor little Harry off ter live with Muggles —"
This made tears fall down Lily's face again.
"Yes, yes, it's all very sad, but get a grip on yourself, Hagrid, or we'll be found," Professor McGonagall whispered, patting Hagrid gingerly on the arm as Dumbledore stepped over the low garden wall and walked to the front door. He laid Harry gently on the doorstep, took a letter out of his cloak, tucked it inside Harry's blankets, and then came back to the other two.
"You left my son on their doorstep?" Lily started, dangerously quiet.
"Mum. It's fine." Harry said, trying to calm his mum down.
"IT'S NOT FINE, HARRY!" Lily started.
"Lily, dear. Shouting isn't going to help anything." James said, rubbing her back.
For a full minute the three of them stood and looked at the little bundle; Hagrid's shoulders shook, Professor McGonagall blinked furiously, and the twinkling light that usually shone from Dumbledore's eyes seemed to have gone out.
"Well," said Dumbledore finally, "that's that. We've no business staying here. We may as well go and join the celebrations."
"Yeah," said Hagrid in a very muffled voice, "I best get this bike away. G'night, Professor McGonagall — Professor Dumbledore, sir."
Wiping his streaming eyes on his jacket sleeve, Hagrid swung himself onto the motorcycle and kicked the engine into life; with a roar it rose into the air and off into the night.
"I shall see you soon, I expect, Professor McGonagall," said Dumbledore, nodding to her. Professor McGonagall blew her nose in reply.
Dumbledore turned and walked back down the street. On the corner he stopped and took out the silver Put-Outer. He clicked it once, and twelve balls of light sped back to their street lamps so that Privet Drive glowed suddenly orange and he could make out a tabby cat slinking around the corner at the other end of the street. He could just see the bundle of blankets on the step of number four.
"Good luck, Harry," he murmured.
Lily huffed. He'd need it in the freezing cold on a doorstep where anyone could just take him.
He turned on his heel and with a swish of his cloak, he was gone.
A breeze ruffled the neat hedges of Privet Drive, which lay silent and tidy under the inky sky, the very last place you would expect astonishing things to happen. Harry Potter rolled over inside his blankets without waking up. One small hand closed on the letter beside him and he slept on, not knowing he was special, not knowing he was famous, not knowing he would be woken in a few hours' time by Mrs. Dursley's scream as she opened the front door to put out the milk bottles,
"Bet that was a shock." Severus said, bitterly.
"I'm sure it wasn't that great for Harry either, Snivellus" James snapped.
Fred and George sniggered at the nickname.
nor that he would spend the next few weeks being prodded and pinched by his cousin Dudley… He couldn't know that at this very moment, people meeting in secret all over the country were holding up their glasses and saying in hushed voices: "To Harry Potter — the boy who lived!"
"That's it." Rose said, laying the book down in the table.
"So, you're the boy who lived?" Sirius said looking at Harry.
Harry nodded and blushed.
"I think we should have a break and then read the next chapter." Hermione said. "If that's okay with everybody?"
Everyone nodded in reply and walked off to speak to different people.
A/N: Hope you enjoyed. Please review? This is my first story so let me know how I'm doing. :)
-Alice
