A/N: Hey again, here's chapter number two. I will be trying to upload more often, but I can't promise anything. I just hope that during my summer vacation I can reach the point where I have written this story before, and start to actually write new content. Anyway, hope you enjoy this.
Chapter two
"The Boy who Lived"
"What is that supposed to mean, the boy who lived? All boys live, as far as I know," Sirius wondered.
Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to sat that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much.
"Sounds very lovely," Sirius noted.
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.
"But naturally there are skeletons in their closets," Frank said, "Otherwise they wouldn't have said it like that."
Mr. Dursley was the director of a firm called Grunnings, which made drills.
"What are drills?" James asked.
"A drill is a tool used for drilling holes in various materials, or fastening various materials together with the use of fasteners," Hermione informed the purebloods.
He was a big, beefy man with hardly any neck, although he did have a very large moustache.
"As though having a large moustache compensates for not having a neck.." Sirius laughed.
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.
"That sounds just like my sister," Lily gasped.
"You must have a lovely sister," James grinned.
"Oh, she is a total nightmare. Hermione, please tell me it is not her."
Hermione did not even glance at Lily as she continued reading.
The Dursleys had a small son called Dudley and in their opinion there was no finer boy anywhere.
"There most definitely is," said Hermione.
"You've met the boy?" Alice asked.
"I've heard of him."
The Dursleys had everything they wanted, but they also had a secret, and their greatest fear was that somebody would discover it.
"Ha! Skeletons in the closet, I knew it!" Frank shouted.
"And no one doubted you, honey," Alice smiled, rolling her eyes.
They didn't think they could bear it if anyone found out about the Potters.
"Hey! There is nothing wrong with the Potters!" James proudly defended his family.
Mrs. Potter was Mrs. Dursley's sister,
"Oh no. God, no. Hermione, please tell me this is not what I suspect it to be?" Lily asked.
"I suspect it is."
"Shit."
"Language, Ms Evans", Minerva said strictly.
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 as it was possible to be.
"Is that even a word?" James laughed.
"Well, certainly not a proper one at least", Lily said.
The Dursleys shuddered to think what the neighbours would say if the Potters arrived in the street.
"The neigbours could not care less", Lily noted.
The Dursleys knew that the Potters had a small son, too, but they had never even seen him.
"Harry?" asked Remus.
"Yes, that would be Harry", Hermione confirmed.
This boy was another good reason for keeping the Potters away; they didn't want Dudley mixing with a child like that.
"A CHILD LIKE WHAT?" James roared.
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 he do that? Is he trying so hard to be as boring as possible?" Sirius, who couldn't live without fun, wondered.
and Mrs. Dursley gossiped away happily as she wrestled a screaming Dudley into his high chair.
"I already hate the kid", said Alice.
None of them noticed a large tawny owl flutter past the window.
"An owl?" Dumbledore wondered, "They should not be flying around in Muggle suburbans like that."
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.
"Git", said Alice.
'Little tyke' chortled Mr. Dursley as he left the house. He got into his car and backed out of number four's drive.
"This Mr. Dursley guy... I hate him too."
"Alice, we know you hate them, we all do, but could you please just shut up and listen to the story?" Remus asked.
It was on the corner og the street that he noticed the first sign of something peculiar – a cat reading a map.
"Could it be -" started Dumbledore and then looked at Hermione, who nodded immediately.
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.
"MINNIE IS THAT YOU?"
"Mr. Black, how many times do I have to remind you that you mustn't call me Minnie? I'm either Minerva or professor McGonagall, but in your case, as a student, it is Professor McGonagall and nothing else. Do you understand?"
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.
"Yeah, it is Minnie, who wants to bet?" Sirius asked.
"Mr. Black, do you want detention?"
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.
"Git", noted James.
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.
"They should be more careful", McGonagall said.
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.
"There is nothing stupid in wearing a cloak!" James defended.
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.
Mr. Dursley was enraged to see that a couple of them weren't young at all;
"Well of course. Not all wizards are young", Sirius noted.
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. Durley that this was probably some silly stunt – these people were obviously collecting for something... yes that would be it.
"I doubt they're collecting money, but what on earth has gotten them so excited?" Dumbledore wondered.
The traffic moved on and few minutes later, Mr. Durley arrived in the Grunnings parking lot, his mind back on drills. Mr. Dursley always sat with his back to the window in his office on the ninth floor.
"Why would he do that? He would have to concentrate on work!" Sirius astonished.
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 night-time.
"Why's that?" Alice asked.
"Owls are naturally night animals, they sleep during days. Muggles don't use owls to deliver their mail, and therefore they are very rarely seen", Lily explained.
Mr. Dursley, however, had a perfectly normal, owl-free morning. He yelled at five different people.
"Git", said Sirius and James in unison.
He made several important telephone calls and shouted a bit more. He was in a very good mood until lunchtime, when he thought he'd strech his legs
"EXCUSE ME WHAT?" Sirius exclaimed.
and walk across the road to buy himself a bun from the bakery.
"Ah, everything seems to be in order in the world once again."
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.
"Maybe you neeed to pee..?"
"SIRIUS!" yelled Lily, "Stop interrupting or we'll never get through all of these books!"
This bunch was 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,
"Now he must be happy."
"Seriously Black, stop!"
"My middle name is not Lee, it's Orion, actually."
"Not funny."
that he caught a few words of what they were saying.
'The Potters, that's right, that's what I heard -"
"What is it with us?" James wondered.
'- Yes, their son, Harry -'
"Is he okay?"
"He is okay", Hermione promised.
Mr. Dursley stopped dead.
"WOHOO!" James and Sirius shouted together.
Fear flooded him.
"Oh. Damnit, he didn't die."
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 dialing his home number when he changed his mind.
"He's scared of her wife", Hermione slipped out.
He put the receiver back down and stroked his moustache thinking... no, he was being stupid. Potter wasn't such an unsual 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 surte his nephew was called Harry. He'd never even seen the boy. It might have been Harvey.
"Why'd I call my son Harvey? That's an idiotic name."
Or Harold.
"Or Harold. Not any better.
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... but all the same, those people in cloaks...
"Okay, I really want to know who the wife is!" James pouted.
"I'm thinking, it might be me..." Lily confessed.
"Really?" James asked, brightening up like the sun.
"Well, this Mrs. Dursley sounds a little too much like my dear sister Petunia. And if I remember correctly she is dating a guy called Dursley."
"I'M GONNA MARRY LILY, SHE WILL HAVE SEX WITH ME, WE WILL HAVE A SON TOGETHER. WHICH ALL MEANS THAT SHE WILL SAY YES SOMEDAY! WE'LL GO ON A DATE!"
"James, calm down", Lily requested.
"James?" wondered Sirius, "since when do you call him James?"
"Since now apparantely, Black. If we're gonna get married, I might as well call him by his first name, don't you think?"
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.
"I hope he's okay. I mean the someone he walked into", Sirius laughed.
'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.
"Siriusly, why are they all in the Muggle world?" Sirius asked.
"You'll see," answered Hermione grimly.
He didn't seem at all upset at being almost knocked to the ground.
"That's weird."
On the contrary, his face split into a wide smile and he said in a squeaky voice that made passerbys stare, 'Don't be sorry, my dear sir, for nothing could upset me today!
"Why is that?" asked James.
"James, maybe if you waited a minute, you could actually find out!" Lily commented.
Rejoice, for You-Know-Who has gone at last!
"Voldemort's gone?" wondered Dumbledore.
Even Muggles like yourself should be celebrating this happy, happy day!'
"He should relly be more careful," Minerva noted.
And the old man hugged Mr. Durley around the middle and walked off.
"I doubt he reached all around.." Sirius said.
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.
"Muggle is none magic person," Lily informed.
"Lily, love, we all know that,"James said making Lily blush.
"I am not your love, James."
"Well, it does look like you're going to marry me, so yo have to be, love."
"Shut it!"
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.
"How can someone not approve of imagination? Life would be boring without it. You couldn't imagine all the stuff that happens that you can't see," Sirius wondered.
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.
"Hi Minnie!", Sirius exclaimed loudly.
"Detention Mr. Black, after we have finished the books," McGonagall said strictly.
It was now sitting on his garden wall. He was sure it was the same one; it had the smae markings around its eyes.
'Shoo!' said Mr. Dursley loudly.
"Not going to wo-ork!" Sirius said in a sing-song voice.
The cat didn't move.
"I told you so."
It just gave him a stern look. Was this normal cat behavior?
"No, but it's normal Minnie behavior," said James.
"Mr. Potter will join Mr. Black in detention."
"Whoops.."
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.
"Dursley's scared!"
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 ('Shan't!').
"Well that's an important word to know," James laughed.
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 suddelnly changed their sleeping pattern.' The newscaster allowed himself a grin.
"The Muggles are starting to suspect. That is not good," Dumbledore stated.
'Most mysterious. And now, over to Jim McGuffin with the weather. Going to be any more showers of owls tonight, Jim?'
"That is a good one for the situation, though," laughed James.
'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 ro tell me that instead of the rain I promised yesterday, they've had a downpour of shooting stars!
"That's odd."
Perhaps people have neem 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...
"He knows it's wizards," Lily said.
"But he's a Muggle," James protested.
"Who just so happens to be the husband of my sister, I'd think he knows about us."
"Oh."
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?'
"She's not going to like that."
"Why doesn't she like you?"
"I guess she might be jealous of me. I mean she wanted to be a witch too. But she wasn't. She started calling me a freak. Then she moved out and I have hardly even heard from her," Lily said, a tear dropping down her face.
James took the chance and moved closer to her on the couch, wiped her tears away and gave her a warm hug. Lily didn't object. Sirius winked to Hermione.
As he had expected, Mrs. Dursley looked shocked and angry. After all they normally pretended she didn't have a sister.
'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.'
"Her crowd... that's what they call us?"
"Yeah, if they ever even mention us."
Mrs. Dursley sipped her tea through pursed lips. Mr. Dursley wondere 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?'
"Merlin, no."
'Harry. Nasty, common name, if you ask me.'
"Well it is way better than Dudley anyway."
'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 ito the front garden. The cat was still there. It was staring down Privet Drive as though it were waiting for something.
Was he imagining things?
"You don't approve of imagination, if I recall correctly..." James noted.
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.
"Well, I didn't want everyone to know that I have relatives like you either," Lily stated.
James stroked her cheek and pulled her closer to him.
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...
"I have a very bad feeling about this," noted Lily.
How very wrong he was.
"Damn."
Mr. Dursley might have been drifting into an uneasy sleep, but the cat on the wall outside was showing no sign of sleepiness. 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.
"She must have been quite numb after that."
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.
"I believe he did appear out of thin air, as he probably is a wizard," said Frank.
The cat's tail twitched and its eyes narrowed.
Nothing like this man had ever been seen on Privet Drive. He was tall, thin, and very old, judging but the silver of his hair and beard, which were both long enough to tuck into his belt.
"DUMBLEDORE!" shouted James and Sirius in unison.
"Yes, boys, I do believe it is me, but would you please calm down?" Dumbledore said amused.
He wa 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.
"Is it broken?" asked James curiously.
"Yes it is, I'm afraid."
This man's name was Albus Dumbledore.
"Wohoo!"
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 he did seem to realize he was being watched, because he looked up suddely 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.'
"Yeah, definitely Minnie," Remus said.
"Mr. Lupin, you will be joining your fellow Marauders in detention."
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.
"Cool! I want one!" James said.
He clicked it again – the next lamp flickered into darkness. Twelve times he clicked the Put-Outer,
"Is that what it's called?"
"No, actually I call it a Deluminator."
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 anuything that was happening down on the pavement.
"Secretive."
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.'
"Yei, it was Minnie!"
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, and emerald one. Her black hair was drawn into a tight bun. She looked distinctly ruffled.
'How did you know it was me?' she asked.
'My dear professor, I've never seen a cat sit so stiffly.'
'You'd be stiff if you'd been sitting on a brick wall all day' said Professor McGonagall.
"No one asked you to, I believe, Minnie."
"Do you want another detention, Potter?"
"No, I don't."
"Then stop calling me Minnie."
'All day? When you could have been celebrating? I must have passed a dozen feasts and parties on my way here.'
"I'M HUNGRY!" Sirius shouted.
"Well, maybe we could have some lunch after this chapter, is that okay?" Hermione asked.
"Yeah, that'd be perfect, babe," Sirius winked.
"I am not your babe."
"Yet."
"Okay, could you two lovey-doveys shut up, so we could finish this chapter soon, I am quite hungry myself," James pleaded.
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.' She jerked her head back at the Dursleys' dark living-room window. 'I heard it. Flocks of owl... 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's never had much sense," noted Sirius.
He's never had much sense.'
"Padfoot's like Minnie!"
"Detention, Potter."
'You can't blame them,' said Dumbledore gently. ' We've had precious little to celebrate for eleven years.'
"Eleven years? That means it's three more years until this happens?"
"Yes this particular day is the first of November 1981," Hermione informed everyone.
'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 rumours.'
"What rumours?" Sirius asked Hermione.
"You'll see."
Sirius sighed deeply.
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 about us all. I supppose he really has gone, Dumbledore?'
"That's what I'd like to know too," said Minerva.
'It certainly seems so,' said Dumbledore. 'We have much to be thankful for. Would you care for a sherbet lemon?'
"A what?"
"A sherbet lemon. They're a kind of muggle sweet I'm rather fond of," Dumbledore informed.
'A what?'
'A sherbet lemon. They're a kind of Muggle sweet I'm rather fond of.'
'No, thank you,' said Professor McGonagall coldly, as though she didn't think it was the moment for a sherbet lemon.
"It's always a good moment for a sherbet lemon. Anyone want some?" Dumbledore asked.
"No thanks," everyone said.
'As I say, even if You-Know-Who has gone -'
'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, but Dumbledore, who was unsticking to sherbet lemons, seemed not to notice. '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.'
"That's because you're the only person You-Know-Who's frightened of," Minerva said.
'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 noble to use them," James said.
'Only because you're too – well – noble to use them.'
"Jamesie's like Minnie!"
"Mr. Black, detention."
'It's lucky it's dark. I haven't blushed so much since Madam Pomfrey told me she like my new earmuffs.'
"Aww."
Professor McGonagall shot a sharp look at Dumbledore and said 'The owls are nothing next to the rumours that are flying around. You know what they're saying? About why he's disappeared? About what finally stopped him?'
"Wouldn't we all like to know that?" said Frank.
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 sherbet lemon and did not answer.
"You know, Albus, it is really annoying when you do that," Minerva said.
'What they're saying,' she pressed on, ' is that last night Voldemort turned up in Godric's Hollow. He went to find the Potters.
"Oh no, Hermione, please tell me it is not what I fear it is," Sirius pleaded.
The rumour is that Lily and James Potter are – are – that they're – dead.'
"No!" Sirius shouted.
There was a grave silence in the room for a while. Hermione was hugging the shocked boy next to her, James and Lily were still clinged to each other, looking rather shocked, Alice was crying and Frank was trying to comfort her. After everyone had calmed down a little, Hermione continued reading.
Dumbledore bowed his head. Professor McGonagall gasped.
'Lily and James... I can't believe it... I didn't want to believe it... Oh, Albus...'
"It is nice to know you care about us, Professor," Lily smiled sadly.
"You lot are like the children I never had," Minerva told them.
"Thanks Professor."
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.
"Why would he want to kill a small baby? It's not like Harry is a threat in such young age.."
But he couldn't.
"Voldemort couldn't kill Harry?"
He couldn't kill that little child, 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.'
"Oh dear, this is odd."
Dumbledore nodded glumly.
"It's true?"
'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 jus astounding... of all the things to stop him... but how in the name of heaven did Harry survive?'
'We can only guess.' said Dumbledore. 'We may never know.'
"I'm pretty certain he already knows," James said.
"He does," Hermione confirmed.
Professor McGonagall pulled out a lace handkerchief and dabbed 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?'
"Woo, Hagrid," Sirius said half-heartedly, still shocked about the future deaths of his best friend and his future wife.
'Yes,' said Professor McGonagall. 'And I don't suppose you're going to tell me why you're here, of all places?'
'I've come to bring Harry to his aunt and uncle. They're the only family he has left now.'
"No, I don't want my son to live with Petunia; he'll have a miserable childhood!" Lily protested.
"Yeah, why can't he stay with me? Or Remus?" Sirius asked.
"You will find out when we reach the third book," said Hermione.
'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. Ans they've got this son – I saw him kicking his mother all the way up the street, screaming for sweets.
"Git," said Alice.
Harry Potter come and live here!'
"Exactly, professor, what were you thinking?"
'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? You think you can explain it all in a letter?" Minerva questioned.
'A letter?' repeated Professor McGonagall faintly, sitting back down on the wall. 'Really, Dumbledore, you think you can explain all this in a letter?
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!'
"He'll be better off away from all of that," Dumbledore stated.
'Exactly,' said Dumbledore, looking very serious over the top of his half-moon glasses. 'It would be enough to turn any boy's head. Famous before he can walk and talk! Famous for something he can'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?'
"He would grow up to be arrogant and big-headed like his father," Lily noted. "Though I still don't think he should live with 'Tuney."
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," Lily said.
'Hagrid's bringing him.'
'You think it – wise – to trust Hagrid with something as important as this?'
"I would trust Hagrid with my life," said James.
'I would trust Hagrid with my life,' said Dumbledore.
"James's 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?"
A low rumbling sound had broken the silence around them. It grew steadily louder as the looke 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.
"COOL! I WANT ONE!" Sirius exclaimed.
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 he was holding a bundle of blankets.
"Aww!" the girls cooed in unison.
'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.
"I'LL GET A MOTORCYCLE THAT FLIES? AWESOME!" Sirius shouted.
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 swarming around. He fell asleep as we was flyin' over Bristol.'
"Awww!"
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.
"Is that where -?" asked Frank.
Hermione nodded.
'Is that where -?' whispered Professor McGonagall.
'Yes,' said Dumbledore. 'He'll have that scar forever.
'Couldn't you do something about it, Dumbledore?'
'Even if I could, I wouldn't. Scars can come in handy. I habe one myself above my left knee that is a pefect map of the London underground.
"Too much information, Professor," Lily laughed.
Well – give him here, Hagrid – we'd better get this over with.'
Dumbledore took Harry in his arms and turned toward the Dursley's 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.
'Shh!' 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 -'
'Yes, yes, it's all very sad, but get a grip on yoursel, 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 THE DOORSTEP?" Lily yelled.
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.'
"HUNGRY!" yelled Sirius.
"We know that, but there is not much left of this chapter." Hermione said smiling.
'Yeah,' said Hagrid in a very muffled voice, 'I best get this bike away. G'night, Professor McGonagall – Professor Dumbledore, sir.'
"I love how he says 'Professor Dumbledore, sir'," Frank laughed.
"That is just his way to show his respect towards Dumbledore," Lily stated.
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.
"Awesome."
'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. He turned on his heel and with a swish of his cloak, he was gone.
"Poor Harry, left there in to a cold November night, all alone. What were they thinking?"
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 blanket 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,
"Ahh, lovely way to wake up, isn't it?" James said.
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 the end of this chapter," Hermione informed.
"Great, now food?" Sirius asked.
Hermione waved her wand towards the refridgerator and soon there was some roast beef and potatoes for them to eat. As they needed a table, the Room created one. It was a dark oak table, with two long oak benches. There was also 9 sets of plates on the table. Hermione levitated the food on the table.
When everyone was seated and had food one their plates, they started to chat about the chapter they had just read. When they had finished eating, they returned to their previous reading spot.
"So, Hermione, will you return to your time immediately after we have finished with the books?" Sirious asked without a smile.
"Oh, right, I was going to bring that up. It is not possible, as of yet at least, to travel forward in time, so I have to live in this time instead. Though if I'd go back it might shock me, because things might be really different, so I really don't even want to go back. We just need to make a cover story for me. And a new name too, as I will be born again quite soon," she told them.
"Ms. Granger, I have an idea for that," said Minerva.
"Yes?"
"You are my daughter, and used to live with your father, and were homeschooled by him, but he died recently and you needed to come to Hogwarts to me, your mother, and to finish your education," the elderly lady proposed.
"That actually sounds quite good, perfect even," Hermione smiled.
"And the time I've been teaching here is quite perfect too, I started teaching when you would have been one year old."
"We need to set me a birth date. What do you think of 19th of September 1959?" Hermione suggested.
"That sounds good," Minerva smiled.
"Ladies, I think we should make a spell to make it seem legit in case the Ministry of Magic starts to doubt," Albus noted.
"Yes, indeed, that should be done."
"Please stand next to each other and grab each other's hands," Albus requested. As the women did as they were asked to, he pronounced the spell clearly: "Cognatione iunctus."
A red spark came from the end of Dumbledore's wand. It wrapped around the joined hands and branched then to both women's chests. Then it disappeared into their hearts.
"You can let go now," Dumbledore smiled.
They let go, but hugged then each other happily.
"Hi, Hermione McGonagall," Minerva saluted smiling.
"Hi, Mum," Hermione answered, grinning.
The women returned to their previous seats.
"Should we continue now? Does someone else want to read?" Hermione asked.
"I can read," Lily reported herself. "The Vanishing Glass"