A/N: Ok, thank you guys sooooo much for all the favorites, alerts and reviews! I appreciate it more than you could ever imagine! Anyway, hope you enjoy this chapter! (Wow, that was a lot of exclamation points! ;))
Also sorry! I was trying to upload it, but something keep messing up, so its all good now!
Also thanks to my amazing beta, TheDeepestDepths!
Chapter Two
The Boy Who Lived
The next morning, the rest of Dumbledore's Army woke up to find that they had a meeting later that day. It was strange, having a gathering two days in a row - but no one was going to miss out on it.
Several times that day, many of the members tried to communicate with one another but, like he had assumed, the Carrows were watching them all very carefully.
In the last class of the day, Ginny and Luna were both on the edge of their seats, waiting for the bell to ring. They couldn't help but think of all the things that could have gone wrong with Neville.
As Professor McGonagall called Ginny up to her desk to turn in her essay from the previous week , she passed on a message for Neville.
"Do tell Longbottom that I talked to his grandmother, and she is fine. She also wanted him to know that she is very proud of her grandson and wants him to keep rebelling." She whispered quietly, with a small smile on her face.
The young Gryffindor was shocked, to say the least.
"How-?" Ginny started, but Professor McGonagall just winked and called up the next person.
Before she could try to ask her anything else, however, the bell rang. Ginny, with Luna in tow, bolted out the classroom door to head for the seventh floor.
Neville was asleep on one of the many couches that filled the Room of Requirement when the girls arrived. They slammed the door behind them, causing Neville jump and fall off the side of the couch, landing flat on his face.
"Smooth." Ginny said, laughter in her voice.
Neville just groaned and sat up. "What are you doing here? I told you to come at 4."
"It is 4 Neville. Everyone else will be coming in a few minutes." Luna confirmed peacefully.
"What?" Neville leaped up and started to pace. "But I didn't have time to prepare. I mean, how do I say this? What if they freak out? Should I tell them?" He asked agitated.
"Tell us what Neville?" asked Hannah Abbott as she came in, followed by the rest of the D.A.
Neville froze as the rest of the members came into the room and sat down. Once they were all settled, they looked up at Neville, who was still hadn't moved.
He was afraid that some of them would start to panic when they knew that somehow the Room of Requirement made a book about their friend's life. Who knew if it could make a book about their lives, or if it decided your future for you? Neville didn't really know much about playing with time but he did know enough to know just how dangerous it could be.
Finally he plucked up his Gryffindor courage and said "I've found a book."
"A book? You called us all here because you found a book?" Seamus said disbelieving "It's official you've finally cracked."
"I'm fine." Neville declared irritated. "This isn't just any book. It's called HarryPotterandtheSorcerer'sStone. It's about Harry's first year."
There was a shocked silence throughout the room.
"When I saw Harry was in our year, I read all the books I could about him. I've never even heard about that book Neville, it can't possibly be accurate." Anthony Goldstein said hesitantly. "Especially if it is only about first year, I could have read it my now."
"You don't believe me, do you?" Neville realized, looking around the room. None of his friends would meet his eyes.
"Neville -" Ginny began, "it just doesn't seem possible. I mean, it's not like there's any proof it's real."
Neville was now extremely annoyed. He had gotten so worked up, thinking they would panic, but they don't even believe him!
"You want proof?" he asked Ginny, walking over to his bed and picking up the book, and tossing it to her. "There's the proof! Read the back."
She caught it gracefully and flipped it over. Slowly her eyes widened and her jaw dropped, as she read the words that Neville had the night before. When she looked back up at him all she could do was nod.
"It's true?" Justin Finch-Fletchley asked aghast, looking between Neville and Ginny. Ginny tossed the book to him and he had the same reaction as her. Slowly the book was passed one by one around the room until everyone had read the back of the book.
Finally, the book was passed back to Neville and he smugly asked, "Are we ready to read it now?"
In response he received many nodding heads and he began to read.
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.
"You welcome Neville," Luna responded, staring off into space.
They were the last people you'd expect to be involved in anything strange or mysterious, because they just didn't hold with such nonsense.
Mr. Dursley was the director of a firm called Grunnings, which made drills. He was a big, beefy man with hardly any neck, although he did have a very large mustache.
"Yes, because every man needs a large mustache to make up for being overweight!" Padma exclaimed sarcastically.
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 neighbors.
"Isn't she a nosy one!" Lavender Brown said to Parvati, who nodded in agreement.
"They're ones to talk," whispered Michael Corner to some of the other Ravenclaws.
The Dursleys had a small son called Dudley and in their opinion there was no finer boy anywhere.
"Dudley? That's an awful name!" Terry Boot exclaimed.
"Says the boy named Terry," Ernie Macmillan said to Susan Bones, snickering.
"Oh, be nice, you," she reprimanded, but she couldn't restrain a smile.
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.
"Why not? The Potters are the best!" Dennis Creevey exclaimed, confused.
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,
"Why? Having a sister's amazing!" the Patil twins exclaimed.
Because her sister and her good-for-nothing husband were as unDursleyish
"That's not even a word," Hannah said, rolling her eyes.
As it was possible to be. The Dursleys shuddered to think what the neighbours would say if the Potters arrived in the street.
"Well, if any of them were Wizards or Squibs, they would probably think 'HOLY MOLY! IT'S THE POTTERS!"' said Ernie screaming the last part.
"You have to remember though, Ernie. This is probably before Harry defeated You-Know-Who," Ginny reminded him, not wanting to set off the Taboo by saying 'Voldemort'.
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.
"Harry is a great person, you walrus!" Colin declared, defiantly.
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.
"He picked out his most boring tie? Who does that?" Terry asked confused.
"One of my teachers, before Hogwarts, would wear a different tie everyday. They were always really colorful or strange." Justin said, smiling at the memory.
None of them noticed a large, tawny owl flutter past the window.
"Ever since I saw Hedwig, I have always wanted a snowy owl." Lavender said dreamily.
At half past eight, Mr.Dursley picked up his briefcase, pecked Mrs.Dursley on the cheek, and tried to kiss Dudley good-byebutmissed,because Dudley was now having a tantrum and throwing his cereal at the walls.
"Well, isn't he just lovely," muttered Zacharias, his nose wrinkled in distaste.
"Odd, he reminds me of you," Ginny commented quietly.
"What was that?" he asked, turning towards her.
"Hmm? Oh, nothing, don't worry about it," she responded, an innocent look on her face.
"Little tyke," chortled Mr.Dursley as he left the house. He got into his car and backed out of number four's drive.
"If he's anything like his father, he's very far from little," Anthony mumbled disgusted.
It was on the corner of the street that he noticed the first sign of something peculiar — a cat reading a map.
"Animagus," Dennis said smiling.
"Oh, really? How, exactly, would you know that?" Colin asked, looking at him with doubt.
"Trust me, dearest brother, I know. In fact, I bet five Galleons that this Animagus is McGonagall," he said smugly.
"There's no way it's McGonagall. You're on!" Colin replied.
For a second, Mr. Dursley didn't realize what he had seen — then he jerked his head around to look again.
"It's called a cat, dimwit!" exclaimed Seamus.
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.
"Well, obviously. But who says it was a normal cat?" Susan asked, she didn't think the book would focus so much on an ordinary cat, but she didn't know if it was McGonagall or not.
Mr. Dursley gave himself a little shake
"Hopefully the car didn't fall over," Neville commented, worried for the car's sake.
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.
"Wait," Parvati interrupted, concerned for this man's sanity, "he was waiting for a large order of what?"
"Just ignore it," Justin answered, not bothered explaining.
But on the edge of town, drills were driven out of his mind by something else. As he sat in the usual morning traffic jam, he couldn't help noticing that there seemed to be a lot of strangely dressed people about. People in cloaks.
"They're better than what some of those Muggles wear! I mean, honestly, what kind of man wears a skirt?" Hannah said, shuddering. She was thinking of the time her family went to Scotland on holiday and she had her first encounter with kilts.
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.
"That just sounds…wrong," Michael muttered awkwardly.
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! 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.
"Yes that's it! 'Help us find Better Homes for Dragons' and all those sorts of people." Neville mumbled sarcastically.
The traffic moved on and a few minutes later, Mr. Dursley arrived in the Grunnings parking lot, his mind back on drills.
"Again, his mind on what?" Parvati asked, beginning to feel a little creeped out.
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.
Ernie snickered, "I bet they looked like idiots."
Most of them had never seen an owl even at nighttime. 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.
"'Cause your day isn't complete without a little shouting," Terry said sarcastically.
He was in a very good mood until lunchtime, when he thought he'd stretch his legs and walk across the road to buy himself a bun from the bakery.
"I wish I could have been there." Luna said, sadly. Everyone stared at her as though she had just decided she wanted to become a sumo wrestler.
"Why?" Zacharias asked finally in his snooty voice.
She gazed at him for a moment before saying, "Well, I have always wanted to see a walrus walk," as though it were obvious.
It took a few moments to sink in, but very soon the whole room was cracking up, and rolling on the floor with laughter, amazed that it was Luna, of all people, who said that.
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.
"You're just too fashionable!" Seamus said slowly and as though every word caused him pain. Or, in other words - just like Goyle.
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,
"Yes, you simply can't allow them to steal your doughnut," Anthony said seriously.
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.
"Yeah!" The D.A. cheered.
"You do all realize he didn't really die right?" Neville asked laughing, and they all looked down sadly.
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,
"Umm? Bless you?" Padma asked.
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.
"When is he not?" Ginny wondered aloud.
Potter wasn't such an unusual name. He was sure there were lots of people called Potter who had a son called Harry. Come to think of it, he wasn't even sure his nephew was called Harry.
"Now, that is just pathetic," several people said.
He'd never even seen the boy. It might have been Harvey. Or Harold.
"Oh my gosh! Here comes the great Harvey Potter!" Ernie laughed sarcastically.
There was no point in worrying Mrs. Dursley; she always got so upset at any mention of her sister. He didn't blame her — if he'd had a sister like that…but all the same, those people in cloaks…
"Yes, we know how fascinating we are. Please get over it!" Michael cried, starting to get annoyed.
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 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!
"It sounds like Professor Flitwick." Susan said laughing.
Even Muggles like yourself should be celebrating, this happy, happy day!"
And the old man hugged Mr. Dursley around the middle and walked off.
"Remind me to ask Flitwick how long his arms are. There's no way normal-length arms could have fit," Terry said seriously.
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.
"That's terrible!" Luna exclaimed, horrified.
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.
"The completely average, tabby cat." Colin stated, looking at his younger brother.
It was now sitting on his garden wall. He was sure it was the same one; it had the same markings around its eyes.
"That does sound like McGonagall's glasses." Justin said, trying to make Colin worried.
"Shoo!" said Mr.Dursley loudly.
"Yeah right, if it is McGonagall - good luck!" Seamus said, laughing.
The cat didn't move. It just gave him a stern look.
"It's so McGonagall!" Dennis exclaimed. Starting to make an already nervous Colin, feel even more worried.
Was this normal cat behaviour? Mr. Dursley wondered. Trying to pull himself together, he let himself into the house. He was still determined not to mention anything to his wife.
"Whipped!" Michael said quietly.
"What was that?" Ginny said, an eyebrow raised.
"I said - his stupidity is like a whip to my brain," He said, smiling nervously. He hadn't forgotten how scary Ginny could be.
Ginny just nodded, a smirk on her face.
Mrs. Dursley had had a nice, normal day. She told him over dinner all about Mrs. Next Door's problems with her daughter and how Dudley had learned a new word("Won't!"). Mr. Dursley tried to act normally. When Dudley had been put to bed, he went into the living room in time to catch the last report 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 caster 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?"
"Imagine if there actually were showers of owls…"Ernie said, staring out to space, trying to imagine it.
He looked back at the rest of the group to see them staring at him as though he was insane.
"Well, Ted," said the weather man, "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 into 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."
"What the heck is Bonfire Night?" Hannah asked, confused.
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…
"Nobody whispers about the Potters," Lavender giggled "They scream whenever they see Harry."
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?"
"Man up, you walrus," Neville muttered.
As he had expected, Mrs. Dursley looked shocked and angry. After all, they normally pretended she didn't have a sister.
Padma and Parvati both shook their heads sadly.
"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…"
"You're the funny looking one!" Susan muttered angrily.
"So?" snapped Mrs.Dursley.
"Well, I just thought… maybe… it was something to do with… you know…her crowd."
"Excuse me? 'Her crowd', what is that supposed to mean?" Ginny exclaimed.
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?"
"And there's another wrong name. He didn't mention that one earlier," Justin muttered.
"Harry. Nasty, common name, if you ask me."
"Oh, yes," said Mr.Dursley, his heart sinking horribly. "Yes, I quite agree."
"Well, I think it's a wonderful name," Ginny stated stiffly.
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.
"Dun dun duuun," Anthony muttered sarcastically.
Was he imagining things? Could all this have anything to do with the Potters? If it did… if it got out that they were related to a pair of — well, he didn't think he could bear it.
The Dursleys got into bed. 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 Potterswere 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…
"You watch - he just jinxed it," Ernie declared.
How very wrong he was.
"Bada bing, bada boom." Ernie said, smirking and wiggling his eyebrows at Susan, who just smiled and laughed.
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 over head. In fact, it was nearly midnight before the cat moved at all.
"Didn't she even stop to eat?" Seamus asked, horrified.
The girls just rolled their eyes. Boys and their appetites.
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.
"Scary." Terry said nervously, wondering what was going to happen.
Nothing like this man had ever been seen on Privet Drive. He was tall, thin, and very old, judging by the silver of his hair and beard, which were both long enough to tuck into his belt. He was wearing long robes, a purple cloak that swept the ground, and high-heeled, buckled boots. His blue eyes were light, bright, and sparkling behind half-moon spectacles and his nose was very long and crooked, as though it had been broken at least twice. This man's name was Albus Dumbledore.
The D.A. all started to laugh as Terry blushed madly. The so called 'scary' guy was 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."
"Yeah! Go Dumbledore!" Neville exclaimed, then whispered to Hannah, "So, what was it he should have known?"
She just laughed and shook her head.
He found what he was looking for in his inside pocket. It seemed to be a silver cigarette lighter. He flicked it open, held it up in the air, and clicked it. The nearest street lamp went out with a little pop.
"What is that thing?" Zacharias asked to the rest of the room, who just shrugged.
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.
"And now he looks insane, talking to a cat." Ginny said laughing at the image.
"Fancy seeing you here, Professor McGonagall."
"Yes! Pay up, brother!" Dennis shouted running around the room madly, as Colin got out the Galleons he owed and grudgingly handed them over.
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.
"Dennis knew it was you, of course Dumbledore would." Seamus said rolling his eyes.
"You do realize you're not talking to McGonagall, right?" Lavender asked, laughing.
Seamus scowled and said, "Of course I do."
"My dear Professor, I've never seen a cat sit so stiffly."
"I have," Ernie said smiling.
"Was it dead?" Justin asked with an eyebrow raised.
"…Maybe." He said grumpily.
"You'd be stiff if you'd been sitting on a brick wall all day," said Professor McGonagall.
"Well then, why did you do it?" Luna asked, confused.
"All day? When you could have been celebrating? I must have passed a dozen feasts and parties on my way here."
"McGonagall? Partying? Are you kidding me, she's the one who always ends our parties in Gryffindor," Neville asked horrified.
Professor McGonagall sniffed angrily.
"Oh yes, everyone's celebrating, all right," she said impatiently. "You'd think they'd be a bit more careful, but no — even the Muggles have noticed something's going on. It was on their news."
"But, why are they celebrating?" Padma asked, confused.
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."
"Alright, this is the second time they have mentioned shooting stars. Do they mean actual shooting stars, or the broomstick 'Shooting Star'?" asked Michael, confused.
They all pondered this for a moment before Neville said "I would assume they weren't talking about the broomstick, but since it's McGonagall, I honestly don't know for sure."
Michael just nodded satisfied and Neville continued to read.
"You can't blame them," said Dumbledore gently. "We've had precious little to celebrate for eleven years."
"Eleven years? The First War lasted eleven years," Ginny whispered quietly as she realised what they were reading about.
"This is the night Harry defeated You-Know-Who," she said, looking around at the frightened faces of the D.A.
"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 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?"
"Nope." Susan said sadly.
"It certainly seems so," said Dumbledore.
"So even Dumbledore didn't know he would come back." Terry declared, thinking about how much things had changed.
"We have much to be thankful for. Would you care for a lemon drop?"
"A what?"
"Lemon. Drop." Seamus said slowly.
"A lemon drop. They're a kind of Muggle sweet I'm rather fond of."
"Ewww, how can he like those things?" Justin said shuddering.
"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."
Neville had to say You-Know-Who instead of Voldemort otherwise he'd set off the Taboo.
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."
"It's true." Hannah said.
"I think he is also afraid of Harry," Luna said quietly, making everyone start to think she may not be as crazy as she seems.
"You flatter me," said Dumbledore calmly. "Voldemort had powers I will never have."
"Yeah, right!" They all exclaimed.
"Dumbledore's just too noble to use such powers," Parvati stated.
"Only because you're too — well —noble to use them."
"See," said the Gryffindor girl, happy to have the same thoughts as McGonagall.
"It's lucky it's dark. I haven't blushed so much since Madam Pomfrey told me she liked my new earmuffs."
"Why would she-" Anthony started.
"Who knows? Who wants to know?" Michael said, his eyes squeezed tightly together and shaking his head.
Professor McGonagall shot a sharp look at Dumbledore and said, "The owls are nothing next to the rumours that are flying around. You know what they're saying? About why he's disappeared? About what finally stopped him?"
"I'm not sure I want to know." Ginny acknowledged sadly.
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.
"Again with the lemon drops." Justin said disgusted.
"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 D.A. all looked down sadly. They all knew what was going to happen and didn't want to hear it.
The rumour is that Lily and James Potter are — are — that they're — dead."
"Poor, Harry. I've always heard they were amazing people," Hannah said sorrowfully.
Dumbledore bowed his head. Professor McGonagall gasped.
"Lily and James… I can't believe it… I didn't want to believe it… Oh, Albus…"
"She must have really cared for them," Padma stated, feeling bad for one of her favourite Professors.
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.
"Thank god, he wasn't able to." Ginny said, trying not to imagine what life would be like without him.
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.
"There has got to be more to that story." Colin said suspiciously, "I wonder what really happened."
"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."
"That's it, Dumbledore knows," Justin stated firmly, not believing the great wizard.
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?"
"Hagrid can never keep anything a secret." Neville said, smiling at the thought of their friend.
"Yes," said Professor McGonagall. "And I don't suppose you're going to tell me why you're here, of all places?"
"That's a good point, why are they there?" Ernie inquired, just realizing that now.
"I've come to bring Harry to his aunt and uncle. They're the only family he has left now."
"So this is how Harry came to live with them," Michael confirmed thoughtfully.
"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 — Is a whim kicking his mother all the way up the street, screaming for sweets. Harry Potter cannot 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."
"He's kidding right? A letter? They're not going to listen to a letter!" Dennis exclaimed, panic in his voice.
"A letter?" repeated Professor McGonagall faintly, sitting back down on the wall. "Really, Dumbledore, you think you can explain all this in a letter?
"Exactly!" he cried out, hoping McGonagall could stop Harry living there.
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!"
"That's true. I have never met anyone who didn't know of Harry," Lavender said, looking around at the D.A.
"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?"
"I can't imagine Harry with a big head," Ernie said thoughtfully.
"That's because you big head is full of air." Susan responded playfully.
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.
"Eww." Parvati said daintily and everyone nodded in agreement.
"Hagrid's bringing him."
"There letting that oaf bring him?" Zacharias asked.
"He is not an oaf!" Luna said firmly, making him roll his eyes.
"You think it —wise — to trust Hagrid with something as important as this?"
"My sentiments exactly," Zacharias mumbled quietly.
"I would trust Hagrid with my life," said Dumbledore.
Luna and most of the D.A. just smiled in agreement.
"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?"
"Don't tell me that there are Death Eaters in the story already," Hannah said exasperated.
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.
"What?" Anthony asked, surprised.
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.
"It would be disgusting if his boots were baby dolphins." Susan shuddered.
"Hagrid," said Dumbledore, sounding relieved. "At last. And where did you get that motorcycle?"
Ginny smiled. That was Sirius' bike.
"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 Black?" Terry asked with fear.
"Sirius Black was Harry's Godfather," Neville told to the D.A. who all looked at him in shock before starting to read again.
"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."
The girls cooed in unison.
Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall bent forward over the bundle of blankets. Inside, just visible, was a baby boy, fast asleep. Under a tuft of jet-black hair over his forehead they could see a curiously shaped cut, like a bolt of lightning.
"Is it wrong that I always thought that thing was absolutely wicked?" Seamus thought aloud.
"Is that where —?" whispered Professor McGonagall.
"Yes," said Dumbledore. "He'll have that scar forever."
"Do you think plastic surgery could remove it?" Justin asked. The D.A. just gave him bank stares.
"Never mind..." he muttered embarrassed.
"Couldn't you do something about it, Dumbledore?"
"Yes! Please, Dumbledore?" Colin asked.
"You do realize how long ago this was right?" Ginny asked, "And also, he can't hear you." She said slowly.
He just stuck his tongue out at her.
"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."
"Darn! I wish I could have seen that before he died." Ernie stated sadly.
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.
"Aww, poor Hagrid." Lavender said, sad for the half-giant.
"Shhh!" hissed Professor McGonagall, "You'll wake the Muggles!"
"S-s-sorry," sobbed Hagrid, taking out a large, spotted handkerchief and burying his face in it. "But I c-c-can't stand it —Lily an' James dead — an' poor little Harry off ter live with Muggles —"
"Yes, yes, it's all very sad, but get a grip on yourself, Hagrid, or we'll be found," Professor McGonagall whispered, patting Hagrid gingerly on the arm as Dumbledore stepped over the low garden wall and walked to the front door. He laid Harry gently on the door step, took a letter out of his cloak, tucked it inside Harry's blankets, and then came back to the other two.
"Harry never had a chance," Anthony said shaking his head, "These people are awful."
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.
"When Dumbledore's eyes aren't shiny, it means things are very bad," Michael said in a teasing voice, but knowing that his words were true.
"Well," said Dumbledore finally, "that's that. We've no business staying here. We may as well go and join the celebrations."
"If you think about it, that's kind of sick. People are celebrating a family being torn apart," Ginny said, looking down at the ground and thinking of her own family situation.
"Yeah," said Hagrid in a very muffled voice, "I best get this bike away. 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.
"I should do that to her," Seamus said smiling as he imagined how she would react.
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 cats linking 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.
"He just left him, there?" Hannah questioned horrified, "on the doorstep, at the end of October?"
A breeze ruffled the neat hedges of Privet Drive, which lay silent and tidy under the inky sky, the very last place you would expect astonishing things to happen. Harry Potter rolled over inside his blankets without waking up. One small hand closed on the letter beside him and he slept on, not knowing he was special, not knowing he was famous, not knowing he would be woken in a few hours' time by Mrs. Dursley's scream as she opened the front door to put out the milk bottles, nor that he would spend the next few weeks being prodded and pinched by his cousin Dudley… He couldn't know that at this very moment, people meeting in secret all over the country were holding up their glasses and saying in hushed voices: "To Harry Potter — the boy who lived!"
"So that's it." Neville said, snapping the book shut. Looking around at the rest of the group as they all took in what they had just heard.
"Well? Are you going to keep reading or not?" Zacharias asked.
"I think it's my turn, actually," Ginny said, smiling. She took the book from Neville's hands and turned it to the right page.
A/N: Also I got a list of all the people in Dumbledore's Army just so you could know:
(I'm not going to include Harry, Ron, or Hermione, because they are gone. Also, the people with question marks around them, I don't know if I should bring them in. So if you want any of these people in it PM me or put it in a review. Options are also available on my poll on my profile page.)
Hannah Abbot
Katie Bell ... ?
Susan Bones
Terry Boot
Lavender Brown
Cho Chang ... ?
Michael Corner
Colin and Dennis Creevey
Marietta Edegcomb ... ?
Justin Finch-Fletchley
Seamus Finnigan
Anthony Goldstein
Angelina Johnson ... ?
Lee Jordan ... ?
Neville Longbottom
Luna Lovegood
Ernie Macmillan
Padma Patil
Parvati Patil
Zacharias Smith
Alicia Spinnet ... ?
Dean Thomas ... ?
Fred and George Weasley ... ?
Ginny Weasley
Finally, each chapter I'm going to put a question and you all can guess by putting it in a review. At the end of the book I'll put in all the answers. Whoever gets the most right gets something!
What is my least favorite HP movie?
Thanks!
~PolkaDotSocks~