Chapter 2
"Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone"
There was immediate confusion in the room.
"What's a sorcerer's stone?" Fabian asked, confused.
There was a laugh from the portal above. "No spoilers!" They could hear Ginny say. "That is so not fair!" Protested James "You guys will know what happens while we are stuck here!"
There was another laugh as Harry replied, "That's the fun of it isn't it?"
Lily turned to James. "You know, maybe it's not such an amazing thing Harry has inherited your personality."
James turned to her, offended.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Lily laughed and replied, "He is too cheeky for his own good."
Harry replied, "Thanks Mum, I'll take that as a compliment. Now can we continue reading?"
Chapter One
"The Boy Who Lived" Dumbledore read.
"The boy who lived? What kind of name is that?" Dorcas asked, furrowing her eyebrows.
"A name which I hate." Answered Harry, from his mother's lap.
"Wait, what? Why would people call you the boy who lived? Who tried to kill you?" Lily said, panic rising as she thought that something was going to happen to her son.
"Relax, mum, everything is going to be explained," Harry said from above.
"Easy for you to say, you all are up there. Why are you all up there anyway?" James asked, staring up.
"Actually, that's a good question. Why are we all up here anyway?" Harry asked.
The impatient voice of Ginny Weasley answered back, "So that they don't tease us when the embarrassing parts come?"
"Oh, yeah, but then there is nothing truly embarrassing until the third book, so..." Harry pleaded.
"Sure, I actually want to interact with these people. And you can't really do that when they are not seeing you." Hermione said. "You know what? Let's go down."
"Whoa, wait a second, how do we get down?" Ron asked.
Ginny laughed and answered, "We jump!" And then there was a whoosh sound as Ginny Weasley landed in front of them like a cat. She straightened up, grinned and waved at everyone. She bowed and said "Ginny Weasley, youngest daughter of Molly and Arthur Weasley, at your service" She had long red hair up to her waist, and bright brown eyes sparkling with humour. She was waring the usual Hogwarts Uniform.
Then she looked up and said, "Come on guys, it's not that high."
Again, a whoosh and this time a boy with jet black, messy hair and the brightest green eyes came down. He also grinned at everybody and introduced himself as "Harry Potter, son of James and Lily Potter."
Then he looked up too and said "You know, I never thought I'd say this, but Ginny is right. It's not that high."
Ginny looked at him, incredilous. "What do you mean by that?"
There was another whoosh as redheaded Ron appeared, and looked around. "Hmmmm, Everything looks Perfect. Too perfect. And to quote the great words of Merlin, when something looks too perfect, it probably sucks."
Harry rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I am pretty sure Merlin never said anything remotely like that."
Ron turned and stared at Harry. "Oh really? how do you know? do you know Merlin? talked to him recently?"
But before Harry could answer, there was another whoosh and Hermione showed up. She looked around and pursed her lips. "Luckily, there are only people we can trust here. This information going the wrong hands could be quite dangerous."
This peaked Dumbledore's interest. "Are you are saying that there is information here that can lead to the defeat of Voldemort!"
Harry laughed darkly. "Oh, what I could tell you about old Tommy would make your stomach churn."
"Old Tommy?" Remus asked, quitely.
Sirius broke out laughing. "I love this kid! I am so calling Voldemort that the next time I meet him."
There was another whoosh as this time Luna appeared. She looked at Sirius and said, "But we do hope that you don't have to meet him, yes?"
Before Sirius could answer, there was one last whoosh as Neville appeared. "Never thought I would say this, but you guys are right. It's not as high as I expected." He said, looking up at the portal.
Before they could start an argument about who was right again, Harry took out his wand and pulled out a couch out of nowhere. He plopped down and looked expectantly at the others. They also came and sat on the couch, with Ginny beside Harry, Ron on the other side of Harry with Hermione beside them, Luna was beside Ginny, with Neville on the other side of her.
Ginny was quite surprised that her older self was acting that way towards the one and only Harry Potter. What happened to make her so comfortable with the boy who lived?
"Well, are we going to read, or what?" Hermione said, to break the silence, in which everyone was just staring at them. Dumbledore smiled at her, before continuing to read.
Mr. and Mrs. Dursley of number four, Pivet Drive, would like to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much.
Lily was confused. "Dursley, where have I heard that name before?" before gasping and saying "Oh, yes, that's the man my sister was married to! But why would he be in this book?"
Harry shrugged. "It must have been important to the story."
"They sound boring. Why would anyone like to be perfectly normal? Being strange is fun!" Fabian said, laughing.
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.
"Again, BORING!" Gideon said, backing up his brother.
Mr. Dursley was the director of a firm called Grinnings, which made Drills.
"Oh, wait, I remember, drills are these things you use to make holes in stuff? right?" Sirius asked looking at Lily for conformation. She was quite confused, but nodded.
"How do you know that? you only took muggle studies just to annoy your parents," Marlene asked.
Sirius laughed and replied, "Something had to stick, didn't it?"
He was a big beefy man with hardly any neck, although he did have quite a big moustache.
Alice snorted. "Pleasant man."
Mrs. Dursley was thin and Blonde, and with twice the amount of neck, which came quite useful as she spent most of her time craning her neck over the fence, spying over her neighbours.
Lily sighed and said "Petunia hasn't changed a bit."
The Dursleys had a small son called Dudley, and in their opinion, there was no finer boy anywhere.
Euphemia wrinkled her nose. "Dudley? who names their kid Dudley?"
Fleamont smiled and replied "Apparently, Lily's sister."
The Dursleys had everything they wanted, but they had a secret. And their greatest fear was someone would find out.
Fabian and Gideon's interest peaked. "ooooh, what's this?"
They didn't think they could bear it if anyone found out they were related to the Potters.
"Excuse me? The Potters are the loveliest people I know!" Sirius said, his anger rising.
They beamed at him. "Thank you Sirius" Lily said, smiling and trying to cover up her sadness that her sister still hates her.
Mrs. Potter was Mrs. Dursley's sister, but they didn't meet for several years, in fact Mrs. Dursley pretended she didn't have a sister
And the smile fell right off her face. She hugged Harry tighter and sighed to herself.
Because her sister and her good for nothing husband were as UnDusleyish as possible
"Ok, first things first, James is not good for nothing, and second, is UnDursleyish even a word?" Remus said, noticing that Lily was getting a bit sad.
"And it's probably a good thing that they are not like those idiotic muggles." Dorcas said, snorting.
The Dursleys were scared to think what the neighbours would a if people like the Potters arrived in their street.
"Probably they would say that it is good to see some nice, normal people here.?" Benjy Fenwick said, smirking.
The Potters also had a small son, but they never saw him. Another good reason to keep away from the Potters, they did not want Dudley mixing with a child like that.
Hermione scoffed. "Excuse you, I'll let you know that Harry is quite wonderful person, when he is not annoying"
Harry grinned at her. "Thanks Hermione, I'll take that as a compliment too"
Hermione suddenly interrupted them, saying, "Wait, before we continue, what were you doing before we got here?" looking at the younger versions of themselves. "We were all in the library, researching about Nicholas Flamel." Little Hermione piped up.
"Oh, right. Let's continue."
No, No, No, Library, Harry you are not supposed to be in the library. You are supposed to be finding secret passages and playing pranks, not researching things!" James said, gaping at Harry.
Lily sniffed. "I'll let you know that there is nothing wrong with studying or researching. He is just in the first year, James!"
But before an argument could break out, Dumbledore continued.
So on a dull, gray tuesday, the story starts, with nothing outside to suggest that strange and mysterious things would be happening all over the country. Mr. Dursley hummed as he picked his most boring tie for work, and Mrs. Dursley gossiped away happily as she wrestled a screaming Dudley to his chair.
"What a horrible family!" Molly said, disgusted by how they raise their child.
None of them noticed a large scrawny owl flutter by their window.
Edgar Bones frowned. "What is so strange about that?"
Lily smiled and explained, "Muggles don't communicate by owls, Edgar, they have something called post, that I will explain later, if you don't mind"
At half past eight, Mr. Dursley picked up his suitcase, pecked Mrs. Dursley on the cheek tried to kiss Dudley, but missed because he was throwing a tantrum and cereal on the walls.
"What a disgusting boy" Caradoc exclaimed, horrified.
"Little tyke" Mr. Dursley chortled and got into his car and backed out of the drive.
"How can you encourage that behaviour?" Euphemia asked, shocked.
It was on the corner of the street that he first noticed something peculiar, a cat reading a map.
"Ha, bet you anything that cat is an animagus, and the only cat animagus we know is Minnie! But what would Minnie be doing there?" James questioned, looking at his professor. Minerva raised her eyebrows and said, "Need I remind you, Mr. Potter, that this is the future for me too?" James turned red and turned his attention back to Dumbledore.
For a second, he didn't realize what he had seen, then he jerked back his head and looked again. There was a tabby cat standing at the corner of Pivet Drive, but there was no map in sight. What was he thinking? It must have been a trick of the light. Mr. Dursley blinked and stared at the cat. It stared right watched the cat in the mirror as drove around the corner and up the road. It was now reading the sign that said Pivet Drive. No, looking at the sign, cats can't read maps or signs.
"Minnie can,!" Sirius piped up grinning at his old professor.
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.
Benjy groaned. "How boring can this guy get?" He complained.
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.
Arthur was puzzled. "What's so strange about cloaks?" He asked, looking at Lily, but Hermione was the one who answered him. "Muggles don't wear cloaks, Mr. Weasley." She answered."What, why? Cloaks are comfortable!"
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 weirdos 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; why, that man had to be older than he was, and wearing an emerald-green cloak!
"Again, cloaks are way more comfortable and I do not see what the big deal is." Marlene said, sighing in exasparation.
! 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.
Sirius groaned. "Can we skip this part, I do not like this guy, I don't even know why we are listening to about his boring life" He complained. "Come on, Padfoot, it's not that bad! There is obviously a purpose for this, so just wait for some time!" Remus said, laughing at his friend's impatient expression.
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.
"Owl are not that strange, we use it to communicate all the time!" Ron said, confused. "Oh, for the last time Ronald, the muggles don't use owls to communicate!" Hermione said, exasperated at explaining to him again.
No one noticed, but there were quiet sniggers from where the future people were seated. "They are going to flip when they find out!" Ginny said, laughing as she imagined it. Hermione and Ron both turned red.
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. He was in a very good mood until lunchtime, when he thought he'd stretch his legs and walk
"Wait, what? did you just say walk? He never walks! More like waddles like his son." Harry said, feigning surprise. "Harry!" Lily chided, not understanding why her son was being so rude.
across the road to buy himself a bun from the bakery.
"Phew, ok, that makes more sense."
Lily was surprised. She thought her son was quite well-mannered, looking at his older self, but why was he being so rude about this particular muggle?
He'd for gotten 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 —"
Most of the people in the room froze. "What about the Potters?" Marlene asked in a small voice.
" — yes, their son, Harry —"
Lily hugged her son tighter. Oh, no, nothing was going to happen to him if she could help it, she thought determinedly.
Mr. Dursley stopped dead
"YES!" Harry said, punching the air.
Fear flooded him. He looked back at the whisperers as if he wanted to say something to them, but thought better of it.
"Nooooo!" He groaned and snuggled back into his mother lap, who was having a dreadful suspicion about why he was being so rude.
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 put the receiver back down and stroked his mustache, thinking…no, he was being stupid.
"Duh!" Harry said, scoffing.
Potter wasn't such an unusual name.
"Actually, it was, right around this time." Hermione said, smiling and looking at Harry who looked confused. "Really?" He asked. "Why" Hermione giggled a bit and pointed at him. It took a while for him to understand, but when he did, his face was a picture of horror.
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'd never even seen the boy. It might have been Harvey. Or Harold.
"Yeah, right. I would never name my son Harvey, or Harold!" James said, making a face.
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…
"No need, you have a sister who is way, way, way worse than mum." Harry said, wrinkling his nose at the mention of Marge.
Ron snorted. "Is he talking about?" Harry laughed and answered "Yes." "Did you really?" Hermione asked, surprised. He nodded.
"Did she remember?" Neville asked, curious.
"No"
"Pity" Ginny said, sniggering.
"What are you talking about? And how would you know his sister?" James asked, confused.
Harry smirked and said "You'll find out!"
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.
"Oh, no, is that guy ok?" Harry asked, concerned for the person.
"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! Even Muggles like yourself should be celebrating, this happy, happy day!"
Silence. Dead silence.
"He's gone?" Lily asked still coming to terms.
"He's gone!" Sirius said, laughing and hugging Marlene. There was sudden feeling of happiness and joy from every where, except the first years and the futures.
And the old man hugged Mr. Dursley around the middle and walked off.
Ginny snorted. "I'm surprised his arms fit."
"Ginny! That is not a nice thing to say!" Molly said, scolding her youngest daughter.
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.
"How can you not approve of imagination?" Dorcas asked, puzzled.
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.
"Yep, definetly Minnie. I saw those marking around her eyes too, her spectacles." Sirius declared, in a triumphant voice.
McGonagall sighed and answered "Yes, thank you, Mr. Black for making that amazing observation."
James and Remus sniggered at their friend's red face.
"Shoo!" said Mr. Dursley loudly.
"Eh, sorry, but you can't 'shoo' Minnie. It's just not in the dictionary!" James said, laughing.
The cat didn't move. It just gave him a stern look. Was this normal cat behavior? Mr. Dursley wondered.
"Nope, it is normal Minnie behaviour!" Sirius said, beaming at her.
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!")
"Again, how can that child be so horrible mannered?" Molly asked, Euphemia nodding in agreement with her.
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."
"What about the statue of secrecy? I understand that this is an important day for us, but you can't just do that!" McGonagall said, exasparated.
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."
"Shooting stars! I bet it was that senseless idiot Daedaleous Diggle!" Minerva said, shocked with what they doing.
Dumbledore laughed. "Now, Minerva, his heart is in the right place, and you cannot blame people, it has been nearly ten years since the war has started!"
McGonagall just sniffed but didn't say anything.
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.… 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's mouth dropped open in hurt. How can Petunia hold on to that childish grudge for so many years?
Alice scoffed. "Well, Lily doesn't care much about you either, you overgrown giraffe!" Alice's unexpected comment broke her out her stupor.
Her gaze hardened. Fine. Two can play that game. She was not going to dote on her sister if she wanted to despise her so much. She nodded her head in agreement to Alice's words, smiling at her friends. Because they had been there all the time for her, even if Petunia wasn't. They were there for her when she was sorted into Gryffindor, so frighted because she didn't what to do, they were there for her when Severu- Snape called her that word that ruined her friendship, they were there for her when her parents passed away because of death eaters. At this point, she really considered them her true sisters.
"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? Ugh, can this family get any worse?" Fabian asked, anger growing as the story continued.
"They mean witches and wizards." Harry said, quietly. Lily didn't say anything but just hugged him tighter.
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.
Caradoc scoffed. "Coward!"
Remus laughed as he told him "No, not a coward, he is an abominable, absurd, abusive, abysmal, aggravating, arrogant, atrcious, annoying, artless, apple-john."
There was a pause, which Sirius broke by laughing. "Apple-John? What the hell is Apple-John?" Remus grinned as he said, "Shakesphere insult."
Lily looked around and said, "You know, instead of swearing, because there are children, we can just make some insults alphabet wise. What say?"
There were nods of agreement, especially from the twins, who looked as if chirtmas came early.
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."
Euphemia scoffed. "Much better than 'Dudley'"
Harry. Nasty, common name, if you ask me." "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.
James smirked as he replied "Well, we don't think we could bear it if anyone found out that we were related to a pair of idiots"
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.
"Ooooohhh, Foreshadowing. I like it." Gideon said, exchanging glances with his brother.
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.
There were winces from most of the girls.
Dorcas grimaced as she said, " This may in the future professor, but I have to say, I am very impressed with your focus."
Minerva smiled and nodded to her, but on the inside she was quite worried. What was she waiting for that was so important?
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.
"Oh, Oh, what did he do this time?" James said, smiling. It was actually quite fun to watch Minnie as she scolded someone else.
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.
"Dumbledore. For sure Dumbledore." Sirius muttered when Marlene hit him upside the head and put a finger to her lips.
This man's name was Albus Dumbledore.
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."
"You should have known, what?" Dorcas asked, furrowing her eyebrows.
He found what he was looking for in his inside pocket. It seemed to be a silver cigarette lighter.
"Lighter? I didn't know you smoke?" James said, staring at the headmaster with narrowed eyes. Instead of replying, the headmaster just read on.
He flicked it open, held it up in the air, and clicked it. The nearest street lamp went out with a little pop.
"Oh, that is so cool, can we borrow it sometime? pretty please?" Sirius asked, with puppy-dog eyes. Dumbledore's eyes merely twinkled as he gestured towards McGonagall, whose spectacles were flashing with immediately shut up and shrunk behind Marlene, who was struggling to hide her laughter.
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."
"Ha, I told you. I told you it was Minnie." Sirius said, triumphant. Marlene sighed and said, "No one disagreed with you, Genius."
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.
"Ruffled? Minnie can't look ruffled even if she wanted to. Something big must have happened." James said, looking impressed.
"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.
Again, there were winces from most of the girls.
"All day? When you could have been celebrating? I must have passed a dozen feasts and parties on my way here." Professor McGonagall sniffed angrily. "Oh yes, I've 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."
Benjy laughed. "Looks like you haven't changed much professor!"
"You can't blame them," said Dumbledore gently. "We've had precious little to celebrate for eleven years."
"You mean this will all be done in an year?" Dorcas asked, breathless with happiness. "Lily, I can finally take you to that shopping store I said I would. We can finally be free!" Marlene exclaimed.
Harry stared at them quietly. Unfortunately, they will all be dead. The thought makes him sigh, and Ginny, who guessed where his thoughts were going gripped his hand as a show of comfort.
"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."
"Ok, you really haven't changed much, professor " Caradoc said, smiling at her.
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. "We have much to be thankful for. Would you care for a lemon drop?"
"Really Dumbledore, do you think that Minnie would care for a lemon drop in such a serious conversation?" Remus asked, smiling wryly at the headmaster.
"We must live in the present dear Mr. Lupin. If we always think that now is not the time to enjoy, when will you enjoy?" Dumbledore replied, smiling back at him.
"A what?" "A lemon drop. 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 this was the moment for lemon drops. "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."
There were a few flinches in the room. "Did you really have to say that, professor? This tosser here only calls him by the name. Gave me a heart attack when I first heard." Ron said, glaring at Harry mockingly.
Lily and James laughed as Lily said "Must be in the genes. I honestly don't know why they fear the name so much. As Dumbledore says, fear of a name increases fear of the thing itself." Dumbledore beamed at her.
" 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-KnowWho.' 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."
"Ok, I did not need to know that. Really Dumbledore?" Sirius asked, gagging.
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?"
There was a short pause as they seemed to consider this. "Yeah, go on reading Dumbledore, I wnt to know too" Caradoc said, leaning forward.
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.
Fleamont laughed. "Say what you want about Minerva, but she is very determined."
"What they're saying," she pressed on, "is that last night Voldemort turned up in Godric's Hollow. He went to find the Potters. The rumor is that Lily and James Potter are — are — that they're — dead."
"NO!" Marlene cried out, her hands flying to her mouth. "No, you are my best friend, you can't be.. be.." She started crying. Lily didn't say anything. She stared at Harry, feeling horrible that he grew up parentless. "It's ok, Marls, we knew that not all of us will survive. They say Voldemort is gone too? If it is because of us, then it is a sacrifice I am willing to make. My only problem is Harry grew up orphaned. A small child without parents? How horrible is that?" She asked, hugging her son tightly while tears were spilling out of her eyes. Harry smiled sadly at her and hugged her back.
"Lily, don't say that. The books were given to us for a reason. We can save you, we have to!" Alice said, while tears were spilling out of her own eyes.
Lily looked up and repeated three words. "We have to."
Sirus, who was silent until now, looked up to his best friend. "Prongs? Please mate, say something."
James looked up at him and smiled sadly. "Pinapple." He said. Causing a smile on most of their faces, however small it may be. "Peter's favorite food isn't it?" Remus asked smiling at them.
James frowned again. "Hey, speaking of Peter, where is he? He didn't come to castle?" He turned to the future people. "Where is he?"
Harry's eyes flashed, and for a second seemed really scary to the people in the room. "He was not invited, and we will not speak of him."
Sirius turned to him, raising his eyebrows. "Not invited? But-" He was interrupted by six fierce glares at his direction, even Luna, who lost her dreamy expression for a minute.
"Ok, Ok, fine, fine, Geez, you guys are scary." He said, raising his arms up in surrender.
"You will find out about it in the third book." Harry said, his voice still as cold as ice.
Dumbledore bowed his head. Professor McGonagall gasped. "Lily and James…I can't believe it…I didn't want to believe it…Oh, Albus…"
"Aw, Minnie, you do care!" James said, trying to diffuse the tension in the room. Needless to say it did not work.
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
"Oh, not my son. I am going to hurt Voldemort so bad if he hurts my son." Lily said, her eyes narrowing. She actually looked quite scary.
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."
There was silence in the room. The only sound heard was the fire crackling.
"Ok, Pause. So you are telling me that the adorable little boy sitting in Lily's lap is going to defeat the most evil wizard of all time?" Marlene said, gaping at him. Harry glared at her. "I am not adorable, nor am I little."
Lily bit back a laugh as she said "Can you please continue Dumbledore? I want to know how this 'adorable little boy' defeated Voldemort" Pinching his cheeks. Harry pouted at his mother, but before he could say anything, Dumbledore was continuing already.
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?"
"We can only guess." said Dumbledore. "We may never know."
There was a scoff from the direction of the futures.
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?"
"I've come to bring Harry to his aunt and uncle. They're the only family he has left now."
There was an instant uproar. Lily was the loudest of the people who were shouting. "-ARE YOU CRAZY? MY SISTER IS A MANIAC WHO HATES ME AND YOU WANT TO PUT MY KID THERE?-"
But in the end, it was Harry who put a stop to it all.
"MUM!" They quietened down for a second. "Huh, felt really nice saying that. Anyway, mum, Dumbledore took me there because it was the only way I could survive. He set up ancient magic in the form of Blood wards." Lily was confused.
"Blood wards?" She questioned.
Harry smiled and said "Because aunt Petunia was your sister and shared your blood, I was very safe to live there, and no one could touch me while I was there. It is honestly a great brand of magic, But we will talk about it later." He said, catching Ron's look. "But, no matter what happened it was very clear that I would not have survived if it wasn't for the blood wards."
James stared at him for a second and turned to Lily. "You know, maybe he is not all me in personality. The nerd part of you is still there in him." Lily smiled at her son. "If you say so."
Harry rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "Uh, one more thing, In the events of the book, don't get too mad at Dumbledore, because it is all for the greater good. Deal?"
Lily laughed and replied, "Deal."
"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!"
Lily shot another dirty look at the headmaster, who was quiet all this time.
"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."
Lily's mouth dropped open. "A letter?" She echoed faintly.
"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!"
James was smiling at the end of the speech. "Hey, my kid is famous!" Lily sighed and slapped him up the head. "Really James? How would you like to be famous for something like that?" James mouth shaped into an O shape as he realized. But then he frowned again and said, "Wait, if we are looking for Blood relatives, what about my parents?" He asked looking at Harry.
He exchanged a look with the rest of them as he said "All will be explained later."
"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 you see how much better off he'll be, growing up away from all that until he's ready to take it?"
Lily shrugged as she replied, "Fair point."
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.
Her eyes widened again as she looked at Dumbledore. "Oh, he better not be."
"Hagrid's bringing him."
"You think it — wise — to trust Hagrid with something as important as this?"
"Minnie! That was a bit mean!" James said frowning at her.
Minerva gave a curt nod of her head, but didn't say anything.
"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?"
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.
Lily took a deep breath as she spoke. "Are you telling me Hagrid got my child on a flying MOTORCYCLE!"
ycle fell out of the air and landed on the road in front of them. 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."
"Hey, speaking of me, where am I? In fact where are we all? Why didn't we come there?" Sirius asked, looking around the room.
"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."
Suddenly, Harry's head dropped and he was suddenly asleep. The stared at him. "How can he fall asleep at a time like this?" Marlene asked, confused.
Hermione sighed as she said, "He is not doing that on purpose, whatever will happen in the books will happen to him, because he is connected to the books. I know this is a bit weird, but he would like to talk about it when he is awake. So we can have this conversation when he is awake." She looked at Dorcas pointedly, because she had opened her mouth to ask a question.
Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall bent forward over the bundle of blankets. Inside, just visible, was a baby boy, fast asleep. Under a tuft of jetblack hair over his forehead they could see a curiously shaped cut, like a bolt of lightning.
Lily gasped as she brushed away the hair from her son's forehead. There, on display for all to see, was a scar in the shape of a lightning bolt.
"Oh, you poor thing, everyone will be staring at that, but, fine, we'll try to do something about it."
Harry smiled at his mother.
"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 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."
"I did not need to know that" Gideon said, making a face.
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.
"Hey, I take offence to that comment!" Sirius whined.
"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 —"
"Aw, that's really sweet of him!" Euphemia cooed.
"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.
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."
"Are you serious? you are leaving him on the doorstep? Where anyone can reach him? An-"
"Mrs. Potter." Hermione's voice interrupted her rant. She gestured to the sleeping teenager, now leaning on her shoulder. She was extremely protective of Harry, and saw him as a younger brother. She knew that this book will cause him great pain, but he was as stubborn as her. So, he obviously didn't listen to her and continued with his plan. She knew this was going to be horrible, but, if you can't fight him, Join him. And that is what she did.
Lily nodded, but gave Dumbledore a look that quite plainly said, 'This is not over'
"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.
Just as she was doing now.
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.
'I'll need it.' Harry thought grimly as he looked at himself sleeping.
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...
"A horrible kid. I honestly never hated a kid this much. I didn't even know I can hate a kid this much." Lily said, hugging Harry tighter as if that would protect him.
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!"
There was silence in the room.
"So, what now?"