Disclaimer: All that you recognize belongs to J.K Rowling, i just decided to add in my two cents.
'The Boy Who Lived' read Rosie
Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, (I know those names!) of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say they were perfectly normal, thank you very much.
"Well you're very welcome. They sound like a bunch of prats." Said Fred
"Fred, watch what you say!" his mother scolded him "Even if it is true." Angelina whispered to Audrey.
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.
"What's a drill?" asked Charlie, Bill, Percy, and Fleur
"It's a muggle tool used to make holes for construction purposes." Answered Hermione
He was a big, beefy man with hardly any neck, although he did have a very large mustache. 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 the garden fences, spying on the neighbors.
"They sound –" started Lucy
"Absolutely charming!" finished Molly
The Dursleys had a small son called Dudley and in their opinion there was no finer boy anywhere.
Ron, Harry and George snorted. Everyone else looked at them funny, so George decided to explain. "Small is not a word you can use for Dudley and if he's a fine boy then I'm head boy." Fred and Roxanne laughed at their dads antics.
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.
"There is nothing wrong with the Potters!" they all yelled.
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,
"That's horrible, why would aunt Tuney pretend Grandma doesn't exist?" Lily asked bewildered, in the years after the war, Harry was able to speak to his family without hostility and his aunt and cousin really did like getting to know his children
because her sister and her good-for-nothing husband were as unDursleyish ("Not a word!" said Lily and Roxanne) as it was possible to be.
"Good we don't want to be like you!" Al and James yelled
The Dursleys shuddered to think what the neighbors would say if the Potters arrived in the street. The Dursleys knew that the Potters had a small son, too, but they had never even seen him. 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?" Ginny whispered
"Gin, a child that can do magic." Harry sighed, he knew some of the things in this book were going to anger his wife and best friend
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, and Mrs. Dursley gossiped away happily as she wrestled a screaming Dudley into his high chair.
"He sounds like a charming child." Fleur said (AN: I can't do her French accent every yet, I'm working on it, so please pretend it's there)
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.
"Cats don't read maps, that's it he has lost his mind." James and Fred said
"When did he ever have it?" Lily asked
"Good point Lils." Fred
"Umm a cat could read a map, if it was animagus." Roxanne and Rosie pointed out.
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 life. Mr. Dursley blinked 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.
"Simple minded isn't he." Stated Charlie
"You have no idea." Snorted Harry
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 but notice that there seemed to be a lot of strangely dressed people about. People in cloaks.
"Why is everyone being careless?" Rosie interrupted herself
"It must have been that day." Her aunt Audrey told her. The kids shared a look of puzzlement, while the adults shared a meaningful one.
Mr. Dursley couldn't bear people who dressed in funny clothes – the getups you saw on young people! He supposed this was some stupid some stupid new fashion. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel and his eyes fell on a huddle of these weirdos standing close by. They were whispering excitedly together.
"Ohh what do you think their talking about?" Fred
"Hmm I don't know mate, it could be anything." James
"Guys it would be nice if we finished the chapter before dinner." Teddy, his hair had finally turned to his favorite shade turquoise.
Mr. Dursley was enraged to see 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. The traffic moved on and a few minutes later, Mr. Dursley 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, 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.
"They really should have been more careful," Percy said warily, "we really could have been found out." The family just rolled their eyes at him.
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.
"Sounds like a-" Molly started
"truly productive morning." Lucy finished
He was in a very good mood until lunchtime, when he thought he'd stretch his legs
"Wow, who knew he could do exercise." Al and Hugo said
and walk across the road to buy himself a bun from the bakery.
"Oh, that makes sense." Al
"Hmm, I wonder what kind of bun he got?" Hugo pondered until Rosie cleared her throat and raised an eyebrow at him. "Oh yeah, sorry sis, continue."
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 Potter's that's right, that's what I heard –"
"– yes, their son, Harry – "
"What about Dad/Uncle Harry?" the kids asked worriedly, Rosie decided to start reading again soon
Mr. Dursley stopped dead.
"Yay!" cried James, Fred, Louis, Al, and Hugo, while the men looked happy as well
"Boys, it's a figure of speech! You shouldn't be happy if someone dies no matter how horrible they are do you understand." Their mothers yelled
"We're sorry." They said, not sounding sorry at all.
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 dialing his home phone number when he changed his mind. He put the receiver back down and stroked his mustache, thinking . . . no, he was being stupid.
"So he admits it, good admittance is the first step towards acceptance." Rosie giggled, while Harry, Hermione, and Hugo laughed.
"What's so funny, dad?" James asked.
"It's a muggle thing son, I'm sure Aunt Mione would explain it later if you really wanna know."
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.
"He didn't know your name? What kind of Uncle is that?" asked Hermione
"It's nothing Mione. Rosie please continue." Harry sighed, he knew reading these things were a bad idea
He'd never even seen the boy. It might have been Harvey. Or Harold.
"Hmm . . . 'My godfather is Harvey Potter, savior of the Wizarding world. No it just doesn't sound right." Teddy said, receiving nods from all the kids, while the parent's eyes twinkled at the kids antics
There was no point in worrying Mrs. Dursley; she always got so upset at the mention of her sister. He didn't blame her – if he'd had a sister like that (all of their eyes narrowed at that) . . . but all the same, those people in cloaks . . .
He found in 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 knows that word!" was the general out cry
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! Even Muggles like yourself should be celebrating, this happy, happy day!"
"But, I thought . . . dad, you said you beat Voldemort in 1998." James said, all the kids looked confused as well
"I did, but he was gone for awhile, there was a peaceful time, for a couple of years. This is the first time I 'defeated' him." Harry said heavily, he never really wanted his kids to know what he got into as a kid, mainly so they wouldn't get dangerous ideas. When Harry didn't go on, Rosie decided that she should continue.
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. It was now sitting on his garden wall. He was sure it was the same one; it had the same markings around its eyes.
"Shoo!" said Mr. Dursley loudly.
The cat didn't move. It just gave him a stern look.
"It's Professor McGonagall." Albus stated
"How can you be so sure?" Roxanne asked
"Me and Scorp get fixed with that look all the time." Albus stated proudly
"He's right, Fred, Louis and me have been getting that look for four years." James said while Louis and Fred nodded their heads
Was this normal cat behavior? 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 in 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.
"Sounds like he knows something." Bill said
"Most mysterious. And now, over to Jim McGuffin with the weather. Going to be any more showers of owls tonight, Jim?"
"Well, Ted,"
"Ted? Do you think that could be my grandpa?" Teddy asked Victorie
"I don't know Teddy this was a couple years before I was born."
"Yes, your Grandma told me he worked on the Muggle news for awhile." Harry answered. Even if his godson was 21, he acted just like the rest of the kids when it came to finding out things about his late family members.
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!
"That's so cool!" Lily, Rosie, and Roxanne yelled
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 . . .
"We're doomed! If he can work it out, anyone can!" George cried out dramatically
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 expected, Mrs. Dursley looked shocked and angry. After all, they normally pretended she didn't have a sister.
Lily looked down sadly, know that her dad was on speaking terms with his aunt, Lily loved going over to Great Aunt Tuney's to hear stories about her grandma. James and Al put their arms around their little sister, they hated to see her sad.
"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."
"Again with the her crowed, can't he say the word wizard?" hissed Hermione and Ginny
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. ("Whipped!" coughed out Fred and Louis) 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?"
"Harry. Nasty common name, if you ask me."
"Dad/Uncle Harry's name is awesome!" cried out the children hotly
"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.
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. ("Ewww!" cried out Lily and Hugo cried, they were the youngest) 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...
"He just had to jinx it didn't he." Hermione mumbled low enough that no one heard her
How very wrong he was.
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.
"Oh I wonder, what Professor McGonagall is going to do?" asked Albus
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.
"Run! The evil cat is going to attack!" yelled out Ron and George they got up to run away but Angelina stunned them both
"You will be staying like that until I think it's best to un-stun you." Angelina told them nodding at Rosie to continue
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.
"It could it have been anyone else?" Charlie asked
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."
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. He clicked it again - the next lamp flickered into darkness. Twelve times he clicked the Put-Outer,
"Dad don't you have one of those?" Hugo asked Ron, couldn't answer so Hugo turned to his mom
"Yes but it's called a Deluminator. He got it from Dumbledore." Hermione answered for her husband since, he was still stunned
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."
"Ha! I knew it!" Al yelled out.
"No one said you didn't Al." giggled Roxanne
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.
"My dear Professor, I've never seen a cat sit so stiffly."
"You'd be stiff you'd been sitting on a brick wall all day," said Professor McGonagall.
"No one said she had to." Ginny whispered to Hermione
"All day? When you could have been celebrating? I must have passed a dozen feast and parties on my way here."
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 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."
"That is sorta true." muttered Harry
"You can't blame them," said Dumbledore gently. "We've had precious little to celebrate for eleven years."
"That's a long time." Molly and Lucy whispered
"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?"
"No." all the adults said, to the confusion of the kids(An: I just noticed I know Teddy and Victoria aren't kids anymore, but they weren't around when this happened so when I say 'kids' I mean all of the people who didn't fight or were adults during the last battle)
"It certainly seems so," said Dumbledore. "We have much to be thankful for. Would you care for a lemon drop?"
"I love those." Lily and Al said
"A what?"
"A lemon drop. They're a kind of Muggle sweet I'm rather fond of."
"Al, you take after your namesake. Lily you were just corrupted by your brother." Teddy said, while James just shook his head at his siblings
"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 –"
"My dear Professor, surely a sensible person such as 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 two lemon drops, seemed not to notice. "It all gets so confusing if we keep saying 'You-Know-Who.' I have never been frightened of saying Voldemort's name."
"I never really understood why wizards and witches didn't just say his name. I understand they were scared, but even muggles don't allow the people they fear to have that kind of power over them." Hermione said, everyone just looked at each other they didn't have anything to say to that.
"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."
"He was just to noble to use them." Audrey said, she really looked up to her old Headmaster
"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."
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 everyone's saying? About why he's disappeared? About what finally stopped him?"
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 at Godric's Hollow. He went to find the Potters. The rumor is that Lily and James are – are – that they're – dead."
Everyone looked down. The kids finally understood what Aunt Audrey/their mom meant by that day.
Dumbledore bowed his head. Professor McGonagall gasped.
"Lily and James . . . I can't believe it . . . I didn't want to believe it . . . Oh, Albus . . ."
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. 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, Dad/Uncle Harry. Who knew you were so cool." The kids said in awe. Harry shook his head at the kids.
Dumbledore nodded glumly.
"It's – it's true?" faltered Professor McGonagall. "After all he's done . . . all the peoples he's killed . . . he couldn't kill a little boy? It's 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 bet he had some guesses." Ron muttered to Harry
"So in other words mate, he knew." Harry said back
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?"
"Yes," said Professor McGonagall. "And I don't suppose you're going to tell me why you're here, of all places?"
"That's a good question." Lily narrowed her eyes at the book
"I've come to bring Harry to his aunt and uncle. They're the only family he has left now."
"He can't be serious!" Lily yelled
"No he's Dumbledore, I'm Sirius." James said. Everyone groaned, the joke had become old the third time he used it.
"You don't mean – you can't mean the people who live here?" cried Professor McGonagall, jumping up 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 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!"
"At least McGonagall knows what she's talking about." Angelina hissed
"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."
"He can't really believe a letter can explain something as important as that!" Fleur looked furious
"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!"
"Unfortunately." Harry mumbled under his breath
"Exactly," said Dumbledore, looking very seriously 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 won't even remember! Can't you see how much better off he'll be, growing up away from all that until he's ready to take it?"
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.
"Hagrid's bringing him."
"You think it – wise – to trust Hagrid with something as important as this?"
"I would trust Hagrid with my life." Charlie, George and the Trio said
"I would trust Hagrid with my life," said 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?"
"Oh no, what could it be?" Roxanne and Lily fretted while their brothers rolled their eyes at them
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 of front them.
"Cool, that sounds like the motorcycle Grandpa Weasley keeps trying to put together." Louis yelled
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.
"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'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."
Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall bent forward over the bundle of blankets. Inside, just visible, was a baby boy, fast asleep.
"Awww!" all the girls cooed, while the guys rolled their eyes, Harry just flushed
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 –?" whispered Professor McGonagall.
"Yes," said Dumbledore. "He'll have that scar forever."
"Bloody scar." Harry mumbled so his wife and Hermione wouldn't hear
"Couldn't you do something about it, Dumbledore?"
"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. 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.
"Sirius would have taken offence to that." Harry whispered to Ron and Hermione
"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 –"
"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,
"I can't believe they left you on a doorstep Harry/Dad/Uncle Harry!" everyone yelled
took a letter out of his cloak, tucked it inside Harry's blankets, and then came back to the other two. 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.
"That's not a good thing." Bill, Charlie, and Percy mumbled
"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'll be takin' Sirius his bike back. 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. He turned on his heel and with a swish of his cloak, he was gone.
"They just left you on a doorstep! In November! When there could have been people who were looking for you!" Lily ranted, she also inherited her mother and Grandmother Lily's temper
"Lily-flower calm down. I'm fine come here." Harry called to his daughter to calm her down. She did as she was told and went over to him where he hugged her and sat her on his lap.
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, 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!"
"So that's where you got that nickname!" Fred said
"That's the end of the chapter. Who wants to read next?" Rosie asked
"I will." Roxanne said as she reached over for the book
'The Vanishing Glass' read out Roxanne, "Sounds interesting."
AN: i would like to thank all those who added this to their story alerts, and to those who reviwed that made my day.