The Boys Who Lived

A cat sat as still as a statue on the wall outside number 4, Privet Drive and silently watched the far corner of Privet Drive. The cat could have been a life like statue. It didn't so much as quiver when a car door slammed on the next street, nor when two owls swooped overhead. In fact, it was nearly midnight before the cat moved at all. A man suddenly and silently appeared on the corner of Privet Drive. It seemed as if he had just popped right out of the ground. The cat narrowed its eyes on the gentleman and rested them there.

Nothing like this man had ever been seen before on this Muggle enriched street. He was a tall,thin man that if judged by the silver in his hair and beard , both which were 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 eyes were light, bright, and sparkling behind half-moon spectacles and his nose was very long and crooked, as though it had been broken a few times. This man was something great, this man was Albus Dumbledore.

Albus Dumbledore didn't seem to realize how much he wasn't welcomed on Privet Drive. Dumbledore was absorbed in looking for something in his cloak, looking for something that had never been seen on Privet Drive before. He was looking for that something extremely hard. He did seem to realize he was being watched, because he suddenly looked up at the cat, which was staring right at him. He seemed to be amused because he chuckled and said, "I should of known."

He finally 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 and clicked it. The nearest street lamp went out with a pop. He clicked it once more and the next street followed the example of the first and went out. Twelve more times he clicked the the Put-Outer and twelve more times street lamps flickered out into darkness. When he finished the only lights were two little specks in the distance that looked like two shining stars high in the sky. If any body had tried to look out their window they wouldn't see anything. Dumbledore placed the Put-Outer back in his cloak and walked to the wall outside number 4. Dumbledore sat on the wall next to cat; he didn't look at it but after a moment he spoke to it.

"Fancy seeing you here, Professor McGonagall ."

He turned to smile at the tabby, but it had gone. Instead he was smiling at a rather severe looking woman who had square shaped spectacles that matched the marks around the eyes of the tabby. She was wearing a cloak as well,hers emerald green. Her soft black hair was wrapped tightly in a bun. She looked slightly ruffled.

"How did you know it was me?" she asked.

"Well I for one have never seen a cat sit so stiffly before."

"Well you'd be stiff too if you were sitting on a brick wall all day." said Professor McGonagall.

"You've been sitting here all day; why haven't you been celebrating? Everyone seems to be doing so today."

Professor McGonagall sniffed angrily. "Oh yes everyone's celebrating today, all right"she said aggravated."You'd think they would be a bit more careful though. Walking around not in Muggle clothes, owls flying about in the daytime, shooting stars soaring across the sky in broad daylight. It would be a very fine thing indeed, if the day we become free of Voldemort is the day that we are all exposed."

"You can't blame them,"Dumbledore said gently."We've had precious little to celebrate for eleven years."

"I know that, it just seems that since You-Know-Who vanished everything we've worked for means nothing."

"Nonsense McGonagall" he said with a chuckle."Would you like a lemon drop? It's a Muggle sweet that I'm quite fond of.

"No thanks" said Professor McGonagall looking at Dumbledore unstick lemon drops from each other and pop one in his mouth." I do hope He-Who-Must-Not-Named is gone for good."

"It always made me wonder why no one ever calls him by his rightful name: Voldemort." McGonagall gave a little shudder at the name, but Dumbledore did not notice. " It gets confusing if we keep saying 'You-Know-Who.' I for one see no reason to be frightened of saying Voldemort's name."

" That's because you can." said McGonagall. Everyone knows that you're the only one He-Who-... oh, all right, Voldemort was ever frightened of."

"Voldemort has powers that I will never have, nor even dream of touching." said Dumbledore looking as if he knew all about Voldemort's powers from close experiences.

"You wouldn't touch them because you're too noble to use the Dark Arts, Professor."

"You flatter me," said Dumbledore."I haven't blushed so 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 rumors that are flying around. You know what people are saying don't you? About why he's disappeared? About what finally stopped him?" McGonagall had fired these questions as rapidly as if trying desperately to find out something. It seemed she was ready to talk about the real reason she was out in the cold sitting on a wall as a cat all day. Not as a cat or a woman had she ever fixed Dumbledore with such a piercing stare as now. Whatever she had heard everyone saying, she, herself, would not believe it until he told her. However he seemed not to be listening as he popped another lemon drop in his mouth.

"What they're saying is," she pressed on, "is that last night Voldemort showed 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."

Dumbledore bowed his head. Professor McGonagall gasped. "Lily and James... I can't believe it... I didn't want to believe it... but they're really... Oh, Albus..."

Dumbledore reached out his hand and patted her on the back. "I know... I know..." he said heavily.

Professor McGonagall went on, her voice slightly trembling. " That's not all. They're saying he tried to kill their... the Potter's sons, the twin boys, Harry and Rally. But- he couldn't. He couldn't kill those two little boys. No one knows why, or how, but they're saying that when he tried to kill Harry, Voldemort's powers broke somehow- and that's why he's gone."

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 remarkable... all we did to stop him... and just a small child... a baby... but how in heaven's name did Harry survive?"

We can only guess, and we may never know."said Dumbledore. Professor McGonagall dabbed at her eyes with a lace handkerchief. Dumbledore gave a great sniff and took a golden watch from his pocket and examined it. It was an odd sort of watch. It had twelve hands but no numbers; instead, little planets were moving around the edge. It must of made sense to Dumbledore because he put it away and said, "Hagrid's late, I suppose he was the one who told you I'd be here."

"Yes," said Professor McGonagall. "And I do hope you'll tell me why you're here, of all places."

"I've come to bring Harry and Rally to live with their aunt and uncle. They're the only family they've got left now."

"Why... why surely you can't mean these people here do you?" she said jumping up and standing, pointing at number 4. "I've been watching these people all day and they are certainly not the people to take care of Harry and Rally. They're careless and nothing like us. And they have this son, he was screaming his head off and kicking his mother all the way up the street, just for some sweets." Professor McGonagall was now watching number four with a piercing stare. "Dumbledore you can't... the Potter boys... live here... ugh."

" It's the very best place for them." Dumbledore said firmly. " Their aunt and uncle can explain everything to them when they're older. I've written them a letter."

"A letter, a letter can't explain all that has happened. These people here will never understand them. I mean they're legends, famous. Every child of our kind will know their names. Professor McGonagall said this as if angry at the fact.

"Precisely," said Dumbledore, looking absolutely serious over the top of his spectacles that were perched on the tip of his nose. "They would grow up famous before they could talk or walk. They would be famous for something they can't even remember. McGonagall can't you see how much better they'll be, growing up away from all that until they're ready to take it?"

Professor McGonagall opened her mouth, changed her mind, swallowed and then said, "Yes- um yes, you're right of course. But how are the boys getting here Dumbledore." She looked at him up and down wondering if maybe if he had them hidden in there somewhere.

"Hagrid's bringing them."

"Hagrid, but Professor, do you think it wise to give Hagrid such a tremendous responsibility. Are you sure should trust him, with something as important as this." said McGonagall looking skeptical.

"Why of course ," said Dumbledore "I'd trust Hagrid with my life."

"I don't mean to talk bad of him, but he can be a bit careless sometimes." said McGonagall grudgingly. "He can- what's that?"

A low rumbling sound had broken the silence around them. They looked up and down the street to find the source of the noise. The rumbling grew to a steady roar. They looked to the sky to see a large flying motorcycle landing on the ground.

If the motorcycle was indeed large it was nothing compared to the man riding it. He was a giant of a man, about five feet taller than the average man. His hands were as big as trash can lids and his feet the size of baby dolphins. He had small beady eyes just noticeable under his long black hair and beard that covered mostly all of his face.

"Finally," said Dumbledore as if he was waiting for Hagrid all day. "What took you so long." "And where did you get that motorcycle."

"Oh, I borrowed it, Professor Dumbledore, sir," said the giant now carefully climbing off the motorcycle and revealing two bundles of baby blue blankets snuggled gently under his arm. "From young Sirius Black, sir."

"Everything went well then I suppose." said Dumbledore.

"Oh, yes sir, the little tykes fell asleep as we were flying over Bristol. Hagrid said as he walked toward Professor McGonagall and Dumbledore.

"Very well give them to me, let's get this over with."

Dumbledore took out his wand and with a swish of it a bassinet large enough to hold to baby boys appeared.

As Hagrid handed them over it was revealed that the two boys looked almost exactly the same. Well except for the fact that while both boys had messy raven hair, one of the boys had streaks of blond running through it. The only other way to tell them apart was the black-haired one had a curiously shaped mark on his forehead, a cut in the form of a lighting bolt.

"You weren't spotted by any Muggles were you Hagrid." asked Dumbledore, watching Professor McGonagall and Hagrid bend over to see the baby boys fast asleep in the large bassinet.

"No, no. The house was almost completely destroyed, but I got them out before the Muggles could start swarming around."

"Good, let's get them to Number four."

Dumbledore turned toward the Dursley's house. He stepped up to the doorstep of Number 4 and placed the bassinet there. He pulled out an envelope and placed it in the bassinet next to Harry. He stepped back to where Hagrid and McGonagall were standing and the three stood there watching for a time.

"Well I'd better get that there motorcycle back to Sirius. See y'all soon I's say." said Hagrid walking to the bike, getting on and with a loud roar he flew off into the night.

"Professor Dumbledore I'd best be going too, I think I'll try to get a little celebrating in before the night is done." McGonagall said glancing at Harry and Rally once last time before giving Dumbledore a look and a nod.

McGonagall turned and walked down the street lightly. And as soon as she was there, she wasn't.

Dumbledore went into his pocket and pulled out the Put-Outer once again. He held it up and with a click twelve street lamps were back to burning brightly. Once he put it away, he turned to the doorstep of Number 4 and said quietly.

"Be brave my young children, be well."

He turned, took two steps and was gone.

Harry Potter had rolled over on his side and was now laying face to face with his older brother. His hand was closed on the letter beside him and he slept on, not knowing that in a few hours he would be woken up by, not the loving hands and voice of his mother, but by the shriek of his Aunt Petunia. Harry Potter slept on not at all knowing how special he was, not knowing they had survived an attack from the greatest evil ever. He couldn't know that around the world at that very moment, people of his kind were saying in hushed voices:" To Harry Potter- the boy who lived!"