A"Good, now we're all introduced, lets get on to the reason that we're all here. In the after-life eight books have been written about one very important and very real boy, I was chosen to read them to you. So let's get started with... Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone."
"Wait, did you say Harry Potter? As in, I'm going to have a son?"
"Yes, you have a son, can I continue and actually get further than the title? Good. Chapter One; The Boy Who Lived –
Mr and Mrs Dursley, of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much. They were the last people you'd expect to be involved in anything strange or mysterious, because they just didn't hold with such nonsense."
"Umm, sorry to interrupt, but my sister, Petunia, is dating someone with the last name of Dursley. Please tell me that this is a completely different family of Dursley's because they're engaged." All I am given in response to my question is a sorrowful glance.
"Mr Dursley was the director of a firm called Grunnings, which made drills. –"Tonks is cut off by the sound of Malfoys voice
"Oh that sounds absolutely exhilarating, don't you think? Idiotic muggles!" You can just hear the sarcasm and revolt in his voice.
"Yes, well, as I was saying. He was a big, beefy man with hardly any neck, although he did have a very large moustache. Mrs Dursley was thin and blonde and had nearly twice the usual amount of neck, which came in very useful as she spent so much of her time craning over garden fences, spying on the neighbours. The Dursleys had a small son called Dudley and in their opinion there was no finer boy anywhere."
"Well they sound just delightful don't you think Prongs, Moony, Wormtail? What they lack, the other has, well, other than manners. I'm guessing neither of them have any of those." Everyone has to stifle a chuckle at Sirius' antics as Tonks continues.
"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."
"What's wrong with the Potters!" came the Gryffindor's shouts.
"Mrs Potter was Mrs Dursley's sister, but they hadn't met for several years; in fact, Mrs Dursley pretended she didn't have a sister, because her sister and her good-for-nothing husband were as unDursleyish as it was possible to be."
"Hmm, husband called Dursley, check. Hates her sister, check. Thinks her sister is a freak, check. That's definitely Petunia. That makes me Mrs Potter and Prongs my 'good-for-nothing husband'. On the bright side James, I don't think your good for nothing and it means that we end up together." James is in shock.
"Marry me, Lily?"
"Remember that we're not even dating yet Prongs."
"Back to the story, The Dursleys shuddered to think what the neighbours 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. Okay now you can have your little declarations of thoughts.
"Lily will you please go out with me?" Deciding that now was as good a time as any to give in, I replied.
"Yes, I will go out with you James."
"Huh, you'll come arou- wait, did you say yes?" I give him a tentative nod of the head.
"Padfoot! She's finally said yes!" This is meet by cheers from everybody not in Slytherin, excluding Andromeda as she's pleased for her cousins friend.
"Okay well that's enough of that, lets continue because this is getting all, lovey-doveyish. When Mr and Mrs Dursley woke up on the dull, grey 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.
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 goodbye 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."
This time its Remus who interrupts.
"Padfoot, Prongs, I'll bet you two five galleons that it's Minnie."
"I'll bet you ten that it is. How about you Pads?"
"Twenty that it isn't."
"Huh... For a second, Mr Dursley didn't realise what he had seen – then he jerked his head around to look again. There was a tabby cat standing on the corner of Privet Drive, but there wasn't a map in sight. What could he have been thinking of? It must have been a trick of the light. Mr Dursley blinked and stared at the cat. It stared back. As Mr Dursley drove around the corner and up the road, he watched the cat in his mirror. It was now reading the sign that said Privet Drive - no, looking at the sign; cats couldn't read maps or signs. Mr Dursley gave himself a little shake and put the cat out of his mind. As he drove towards town he thought of nothing except a large order of drills he was hoping to get that day.
But on the edge of town, drills were driven out of his mind by something else. As he sat in the usual morning traffic jam, he couldn't help noticing that there seemed to be a lot of strangely dressed people about. People in cloaks."
"Well they're obviously wizards and witches, aren't they?" Asked Lockhart to apparently no-one. With a small, almost miscible nod Tonks continues.
"Mr Dursley couldn't bear people who dressed in funny clothes – the get-ups 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 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! The nerve of him!"
"Ha, ha, ha." An estranged giggle distracted everyone's attention towards Bellatrix. "What? I just imagined Dumbledore walking down their street." At this thought everyone burst into giggles – even the boys, this is amusing.
"Yup, yip, keep reading and you might get that fantasy. 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 car park, 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,"
"Why are we being so careless Moony?"
"First of all, why is this question directed at me. And secondly I want to know the same thing Wormtail."
"They pointed and gazed open-mouthed as owl after owl sped overhead. Most of them had never seen an owl even at night-time. 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. I know, he's just delightful, isn't he? He was in a very good mood until lunch-time, when he thought he'd stretch his legs and walk across the road –"
"Wait! What? That fat, old whale actually knows how to walk? I'm shocked." Surprising everyone, it's actually me who says it. "What? Even now he's about the size of a young killer-whale!" Everyone's in peals of laughter by the end of my rant, so, unable to see any other way of shutting everyone up, I kiss Prongs' cheek.
Their reactions were immediate, James froze and looked at me in shock and joy; Sirius' clapped his best friend on the back; Remus and Peter collapse in laughter at their friends' actions; Snape looks absolutely fuming; Regulus is trying to hold back his smile, but I see the mirth in his eyes; Andromeda is beaming proudly at her favourite cousins best-friend; all the other Blacks are thoroughly disgusted by the act; while everyone else is happy, but indifferent.
"Awww... Whelp, back to the book, but still undeniably adorable, to buy himself a bun from the baker's opposite."
"World peace has been restored people!" This received some laughter.
"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 lot were whispering excitedly, too, and he couldn't see a single collecting tin. It was on his way back past them, clutching a large doughnut in a bag, that he caught a few words of what they were saying.
"The Potters, that's right, that's what I heard – "
"- yes, their son, Harry – "
Mr Dursley stopped dead"
"Woo! The world can rejoice!" Was screamed by the Marauders.
"James, love, sorry to say... but that's only a phrase, similar to 'stopped in his tracks.' He's not actually dead." Awe's were heard all around the room.
"Ah yes, the most unfortunate of occurrences. Ok, does anybody else know how to be the responsible-ish adult from the future?" After Tonks' musing, a bright light seemed to swirl, and two people were there, a girl and a boy. The girl was the first to speak.
"Err, James?"
"Yeah, Siri?"
"I think the time-sand worked."
"And what makes you say that?"
"Look around, doofus!" The boy looks around hesitantly and both of them facepalm.
"James?"
"Yeah?"
"We will be in sooo much trouble when we get home."
"If we get home, don't you mean Sirius, we're in the past."
"I do know that Jamesie, but you're the one always telling me to stop being such a pessimist." Gaining my wits again, I speak up.
"Umm, who are you? And when are you from." The girl is first to speak.
"Well, as it's you who has asked, we might as well tell. We are from the year 2020 and our names are... Sirius James Potter and..."
"James Sirius Potter. Our dad was really terrible at thinking of names."
"That, or he really wanted to honour his dad and godfather... so much that he would give his eldest daughter a boys name. Then again, he was going to name me after his grandparents on his dads side, not that I see any reason not to, its just that..."
"Euphemia Flemont Potter, yeah... doesn't suit ya' sis. Your better off being Sirius." This time it's James that speaks up,
"Wait, if I'm piecing this together correctly. That would make me your grandfather, because I'm James Potter and my parents are Flemont and Euphemia Potter."
"Correct, James here, and I, are twins. I honestly don't know what happened to make me not be able to be called Lily Luna and our lil' sis' to get it, but Sirius is not one of the best names- "
"Hey! I'm called Sirius and it's the best name in the world!"
"Let me finish. It's not one of the best names for a girl. I mean, if you were a girl, would you still think that Sirius was such a wonderful name?"
"Err, no. It would make me feel kinda' strange."
"My point exactly, now, anyone mind telling- whoa! You're Nymphadora Lupin! The Nymphadora Lupin! I really hope that Teddy comes into our room where the time-sand portal is and falls through it, so he can meet you, because he's always wanted to meet his parents, and I'm blabbering on, aren't I?" Her brother seems to be thinking his answer through.
"No more than usual sis', but, yeah, I think everyone else would like to get a word in edgeways. Ya' know, actually continue with why everyone's here."
"Oh stop being such a snarky Stag."
"Only if you stop being such a garbling Grim." James and Sirius seem to perk up at this.
"Wait, what do you mean by Stag and Grim?"
"No secrets leave this room, Marauders promise, and if anyone else tells we'll hex them." The twins seem to be having a conversation with their eyes before their voices synchronise.
"Marauders word's, a Marauders word. Okay."
"I am, as the original Sirius is, a Grim-like-doggy-thingy, an unregistered Animagus. James is a Stag." The two boys mentioned from my time are beaming all over by now. Oh darn, they're in synch too,
"Heck yeah! We knew there was no chance that we would be the only ones with the desire to be Animagus! When did you first change?"
"Ha, I transformed first, and then James was so jealous that he wasn't focused so it took him an extra month because he had to restart." Oh, my, lords, I already love my granddaughter, and she isn't even technically born yet; and my grandson seems just as brilliant. They also sound scarily like their namesakes.
"Okay, not that I'm not overjoyed at this, and the fact that I – or Remus, or Sirius – should have told Harry some good names for children, we should get back to reading. So... Fear flooded him. He looked back at the whisperers as if he wanted to say something to them but thought better of it.
He dashed back across the road, hurried up to his office, snapped at his secretary not to disturb him, seized his telephone and had almost finished dialling his home number when he changed his mind. He put the receiver back down and stroked his moustache, thinking ... no, he was being stupid."
"Ah, so our great-uncle Vernon admits it, eh James?"
"Admittance is the first step to recovery, don't ya think?"
"Ha, too true. Potter wasn't such an unusual name. It is actually quite a common name in the muggle world. 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 better know my sons name now. If he doesn't then I am having a word with my sister over the Christmas holiday!"
"Ohh, I would not want to be great-aunt Petunia then, if this is enough to set our grandmother into a spurt of anger. Would you Si'?"
"No way, Ja'"
"He, he. So, shall we continue? Yes, we shall. He'd never even seen the boy. It might have been Harvey. Or Harold."
"Eww! No way could my dad be called Harvey, or Harold! They're HORRID!"
"I agree. 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..."
"Like yours is any better!" That's the future twins words, can't say I disagree with them there.
"but all the same, those people in cloaks...
He found it a lot harder to concentrate on drills that afternoon, and when he left the building at five o'clock, he was still so worried that he walked straight into someone just outside the door.
"Sorry,"
"He knows the word!" Screamed the twins, both pairs (the Prewett's and Potter's), the Marauders and Regulus, and Andromeda, and – okay, everyone.
"Surprisingly. He grunted, as the tiny old man stumbled and almost fell. It was a few seconds before Mr Dursley realised that the man was wearing a violet cloak. He didn't seem at all upset at being almost knocked to ground."
"Wait! What? Guy must be deranged!" exclaimed Regulus in frustration at some peoples idioticish-ness.
"Hmm, maybe. On the contrary, his face split into a wide smile and he said in a squeaky voice that made passers-by stare: 'Don't be sorry, my dear sir, for nothing could upset me today! Rejoice, for You-Know-Who has gone at last!" Cheers broke out from everyone but the Slytherins at this.
"Even Muggles like yourself should be celebrating, this happy, happy day!'
And the old man hugged Mr Dursley around the middle and walked off.
Mr Dursley stood rooted to the spot. He had been hugged by a complete stranger." Murmurs of sarcastic 'oh how terrible!' and 'Still surprised this guy' arms fit.'
"He also thought he'd been called a Muggle, whatever that was." This time it was the Sirius' in synch.
"Oh you poor soul." They then looked at each other, as did the James', and laughed together.
"He-he, He was rattled. He hurried to his car and set off home, hoping he was imagining things, which he had never hoped before, because he didn't approve of imagination. Wait! 'Didn't approve of imagination! How can you not approve of imagination? It's a travesty! Oh, yeah, I'm the one reading. Gonna get back on that.
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."
"MINNIE" Shouted the Marauders.
"Hey, Pads, I thought you didn't think it was Minnie."
"Thoughts change Prongsie, but the bet's still on."
"Boys, oh well. He'd spotted that morning. It was now sitting on his garden wall. He was sure it was the same one; it had the sae markings around its eyes.
'Shoo!' said Mr Dursley loudly.
The cat didn't move. It just gave him a stern look."
Anybody who had been held victim by this look shuddered in remembrance.
"Was this normal cat behaviour, Mr Dursley wondered."
"It's normal Minnie behaviour!" exclaimed Sirius Jr – what? I can't keep saying from-the-future, now can I.
"Trying to pull himself together- "
"He's gonna be there awhile then, ain't he."
", 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 about Mrs Next Door's problems with her daughter and how Dudley had learnt a new word ('Shan't!'). Mr Dursley tried to act normally. When Dudley had been put to bed, he went into the living-room in time to catch the last report on the evening news:
'And finally, bird watchers everywhere have reported that the nation's owls have been behaving very unusually today. Although owls normally hunt at night and are hardly ever seen in daylight, there have been hundreds of sightings of these birds flying in every direction since sunrise. Experts are unable to explain why the owls have suddenly changed their sleeping pattern.' The news reader allowed himself a grin."
"Must be a wizard." The rest of the room mused.
"'Most mysterious. And now, over to Jim McGuffin with the weather. Going to be any more showers of owls tonight, Jim?'
'Well, Ted,' - that was my dad! – said the weatherman, 'I don't know about that, but it's not only the owls that have been acting oddly today. Viewers as far apart as Kent, Yorkshire and Dundee have been phoning in to tell me that instead of the rain I promised yesterday, they've had a downpour of shooting stars! Perhaps people have been celebrating Bonfire Night early – it's not until next week, folks! But I can promise a wet night tonight.'
Mr Dursley sat frozen in his armchair. Shooting stars all over Britain? Owls flying by daylight? Mysterious people 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."
"Bet you can't tell who wears the pants in that relationship, can you, James?"
"Oh yes, it's terribly difficult Sirius. I'm absolutely befuddled by the question. Aren't you?" Everybody laughed at the Jr's antics.
"'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."
Upon hearing this, I broke down crying into James shoulder as he held me. I can't believe my sister. All this just because I'm a witch.
"Don't worry Lily, she isn't worth crying over, trust me. '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 - WAIT! We're funny looking? Says the elephant in human skin. – in town today...?
'So?' snapped Mrs Dursley.
'Well, I just thought... maybe... it was something to do with... you know... her lot.'
Mrs Dursley sipped her tea through pursed lips. Mr Dursley wondered whether he dared tell her he'd heard the name 'Potter'. He decided he didn't dare. Instead he said, as casually as he could.
'Their son – he'd be about Dudley's age now, wouldn't he?'
'I suppose so,' said Mrs Dursley stiffly.
'What's his name again? Howard isn't it?'
'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."
"We don't need that mental image! There are children in the room!" Shouted Sirius. "Actually, how old are you?"
"15," my future-grandchildren-whom-aren't-technically-born-yet, said. "And three quarters!"
"See, children in the room. Should not be hearing things like these. Cover your ears."
"Oh, I think we'll survive. James, I'm sure, has thought of doing things much similar with his precious 'Rose-petal'."
"Shut-up Sirius!" James Jr exclaimed.
"Ha, ha. So he has the same romantic flare as his grandfather? Poor girl. So, lets continue. 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 was waiting for something.
Was he imagining things?"
"But he doesn't 'approve of imagination'? That just deflated hi whole point, didn't it?" asked Alice. Everyone gave her a nod.
"Hmm, strange, oh well! 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." Sirius and James quickly covered the Juniors ears – both of whom were pretending to faint dramatically from their 'innocence being brutally destroyed'. Melodramatic much. "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..." The Juniors gave each other a look as if to say, 'so that's how it got jinxed.' Wonder what that means. They also both have very grim looks of mourning on their faces. Why?
"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 in the next street, nor when two owls swooped overhead. In fact, it was nearly midnight before the cat moved at all.
A man appeared on the corner the cat had been watching, appeared so suddenly and silently you'd have thought he'd just popped out of the ground. The cat's tail twitched, and its eyes narrowed.
Nothing like this man had ever been seen in 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 which 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."
"Gilderoy, bet you five galleons it's Dumbledore."
"Okay, Xeno, I bet you five galleons it's the Minister for Magic."
"This man's name was Albus Dumbledore." Lockhart begrudgingly surrendered his five galleons to Xeno. "Albus Dumbledore didn't seem to realise 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 realise 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 had 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, until the only lights left in 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. Ok, people, there are gonna be some sad revelations during this bit so I'd appreciate it if I can get through it without interruption otherwise I'll break down crying myself."
"Ok." Everyone said, obviously wondering what in the name of Godric was going to be revealed.
"Kay, let's get it over with. 'Dumbledore slipped the Put-Outer back inside his cloak and set off down the street towards 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.'"
"Called it!" The marauders whispered quietly as they exchanged money.
"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 if you'd been sitting on a brick wall all day,' said Professor McGonagall.
'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, everyone's celebrating, all right,' she said impatiently.
'You'd think they'd be a bit more careful, but no - even the Muggle 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.-" Malfoy made a sound as if to interrupt, but Tonks continued before he could. "'They were bound to notice something. Shooting stars down in Kent - I'll bet that was Dedalus Diggle. He never had much sense.'
'You can't blame them, said Dumbledore gently. We've had precious little to celebrate for eleven years."

The room is swiftly quieted. None of us daring to breathe as we tried to digest this information. I realised that I would have to be the one to.

"Eleven years?" A hesitant nod from Tonks "The war's been going since 1970. Eleven years, so it'll end in '81? We'll be 21 when it ends?"

"Yeah, but that's when yo-oof! What was that for sis?" James Jr was cut off by his sisters elbow in his gut and a glare that got him to shut up completely. Tonks gave James and I a look that I couldn't quite decipher before continuing.

"Yes. That's true Lily. Ahem, "I know that," said Professor McGonagall irritably. "But that's no reason to lose our heads. People are being downright careless, out on the streets in broad daylight, not even dressed in Muggle clothes, swapping rumours."

She threw a sharp, sideways glance" Those that had been subject to that glance in the past couldn't help a shudder (not looking at anybody but the marauders are looking sheepish) "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?"

"A what?"

"A lemon drop. They're a kind of Muggle sweet I'm rather fond of."" At this, the Potter twins begin handing out some lemon drops they, for some reason unfathomable to me, had on their persons. ""No, thank you," said Professor McGonagall coldly, as though she didn't think this was the moment for lemon drops." I saw Tonks send the twins a look that made them stop, sitting sheepishly. ""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."" Only Tonks and the future twins didn't have a reaction. The ones more prone to pureblood propaganda had a dark look, as though offended, while the rest of us felt a shiver down our spines. "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 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."" All of us looked somewhat green.

"Professor McGonagall shot a sharp look at Dumbledore and said, "The owls are nothing next to the rumours that are flying around. You know what everyone's saying? About why he's disappeared? About what finally stopped him?"

Tonks' voice was becoming chocked as she continued and I saw the future twins holding hand tightly, taking a comfort in the others presence. "It seemed that Professor McGonagall had reached the point she was most anxious to discuss, the real reason she had been waiting on a cold, hard wall all day, for neither as a cat nor as a woman had she fixed Dumbledore with such a piercing stare as she did now. It was plain that whatever "everyone" was saying, she was not going to believe it until Dumbledore told her it was true. Dumbledore, however, was choosing another lemon drop and did not answer.

"What they're saying," she pressed on, "is that last night Voldemort turned up in Godric's Hollow"". My James looked at Tonks in what I think is anticipation, but not the good kind. ""He went to find the Potters. The rumour is that Lily and James Potter are - are - that they're - dead."

Dumbledore bowed his head. Professor McGonagall gasped."

I could almost feel the ground escaping from under me. I could hear movement and chatter in the distance. But none of it mattered. None of it compared to the crashing realisation that both myself and the boy who I was sat beside who, despite not quite loving, yet, I could honestly call a friend, were both going to die. We were going to die and we were going to leave a child in this world. A child who, if this went the way I feared it would, was going to end up - for at least some period of time - would be with my horrid sister and her horrid husband and her horrid son and- I was pulled from the spiralling thoughts in my mind by a hand grasping my arm. It was James. Not my James though. James Jr. He had pulled me into a hug and was muttering in my ear, nothing that I could decipher, just words. Over his shoulder I could see Sirius Jr doing the same for my James. We met eyes and I could see, without having to say anything, that I needed to be with him right now. So I moved, with Jr's aid, to his side and he wrapped me in an embrace.

With him next to me I could look at the others around the room. The Slytherins, though trying to look indifferent, were in some sort of shock - as though they were struggling, with the idea of a world without You-Know-Who or a world without James and I, I didn't know. Severus, however, was looking directly at me. Not with the anger that would usually accompany any affection shown between myself and James, but with an indescribable pain in his black eyes. I may not agree with him, or even like him at the time, but I know that he must be in as much pain knowing that I would die as I would be if he were given such a fate. I struggled to give him a smile but I saw the softness in his eyes that said he appreciated the effort. The Prewett's and Weasley's were gathered with my friend's and the marauders, all trying to comfort each other.

Tonks cleared her throat. I could see tears in her eyes but also a determination to continue. So she did.

""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."

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."

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."

"Why would that be odd?" Regulus had to ask. I suppose it was odd that they would call a normal, if rare, piece of wizarding equipment odd when the book is being read by wizards. Remus was the one who cleared the air.

"I suppose, maybe the writer isn't familiar with the watch? Maybe they wrote it for an audience that doesn't know what it is?" Still, we wouldn't get answers by asking questions so Tonks continued.

"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."" My head dropped to James' shoulder as I groaned and heard him feel similarly.

"What? Why them? And what does he mean "only family"? I mean, even if Sirius or Peter weren't alive, which I suppose they can't be if Harry isn't going to them, why aren't they going to any of Lily's friends? Hell, I'd sooner my son be sent to live with Lucius before being anywhere near those people!" As much as I agreed with him I pulled on his arm so as to shut him up.

The aforementioned Sirius and Peter looked shocked at the revelation that they must be dead or at least somehow incapacitated. There had of course been no guarantee that any of them would survive this war, but thinking on it, even I felt a certain impossibility at the suggestion. The Marauders just... were! The idea of a world without them was just not right.

"Why not Remus?" Alice interjected, "You mentioned Sirius and Peter but why couldn't Remus take him?" said bookworm looked quickly askance at Tonks and she hurried on.

""You don't mean - you can't mean the people who live here? cried Professor McGonagall, jumping to her feet and pointing at number four. "Dumbledore - you can't. I've been watching them all day. You couldn't find two people who are less like us. And they've got this son - I saw him kicking his mother all the way up the street, screaming for sweets. Harry Potter come and live here!"

"It's the best place for him," said Dumbledore firmly. "His aunt and uncle will be able to explain everything to him when he's older. I've written them a letter."

"A letter?" 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!""

"Bet you'd love that," Severus seemed to have regained his voice "wouldn't you Potter." He spat, no longer as hung up by what we'd heard as he was before.

"Severus." Tonks warned, before turning back to the book. "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?"

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." I couldn't conceal my distaste at that.

""Hagrid's bringing him."

"You think it - wise - to trust Hagrid with something as important as this?"

"I would trust Hagrid with my life," said 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.

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.""

Sirius and James high-five while Sirius Jr gloats.

"Yup, and I was the one who inherited it! Had to fix it up of course but that's one of my specialities."

""No problems, were there?"

"No, sir - house was almost destroyed,"" James whimpered and I could feel him pull me closer. "" 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. Under a tuft of jet-black hair over his forehead they could see a curiously shaped cut, like a bolt of lightning."" I simply had to ask, before she could continue.

"Could we see?" I got many looks of confusion. "A picture, of him, I mean?"

"Of course," Tonks smiled at me and pulled out a photograph, it looked worn, the way photos do when they've been handled and looked at for long periods of time. "Remus gave it to me, said it was the happiest day of his life." In it were two people. One who could only be Remus - older, maybe, but still Remus, still gentle, and in his arms must be Harry. He was clearly visible as Moony was showing him off to the camera - probably to myself or James or perhaps one of our friends as he held an arm out for someone - and then a woman came into the image. It took me a moment to realise that the woman was me, cooing at the baby as he grabbed my hand, now content to be in the mans arms.

I passed the photo, James having looked at it over my shoulder with a fond smile, to Remus and he showed the others. Looking at that photo he seemed to melt, as though he hadn't previously realised that such a thing may have previously been possible. While the picture was being passed around, Tonks continued.

""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." The Marauders exchanged a glance that said they wished to 'fact check' this. "Well - give him here, Hagrid - we'd better get this over with."

Dumbledore took Harry in his arms and turned toward the Dursley's house." I held James' hand just a bit tighter.

""Could I - could I say goodbye 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 looked offended but for the life of me, I couldn't imagine why.

""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-""

"James, we have to go visit Hagrid. Maybe pop by for tea. I mean, it's the least we can do for him getting Harry out of there." He nodded at me and gestured for the rest of his little gang to as well.

""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."

"Oh no! Not the sparkle!" The Jr Twins cried in unison with the Prewett's. Laying dramatically over one another. It bought a chuckle from this dark moment.

""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.

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!"

And that's the end of chapter one." ended Tonks. "I understand that we've only read one chapter today but next time I imagine we'll be able to read more. I need to notify Dumbledore about our visitors though..."

"Wait!" James began (Sr) "Dumbledore knows about this?"

"Of course, the only reason he wasn't here tonight is because he was busy at the Ministry. Goodnight now, I'm sure you'll see the twins before you see me. Be here on Saturday - 10 O'clock, if you will." She smiled and we were ushered out the door by the twins.

'Till Saturday, I suppose.

A/N: I want to make it clear that the 'Rose-Petal' I have mentioned as future James's romantic interest is NOT his cousin Rose. I want that to be very clear.