Hagrid cursed the motorbike for the third time in the last five minutes. He had left Cardiff fifteen minutes ago and his first attempt to launch the bike into the air not only met with failure, but caused the bike to stall completely. It had caught Hagrid so completely by surprise that he had barely managed to retain control of the bike. He guided it to the side of the road and climbed off. His expertise was more in the area of beast control, but this "mechanical" beast was an enigma to him. He stood staring over it, oblivious to what he could do to make it work.

A quick peek inside his jacket had showed him that Harry was still awake, but his eyes had reverted to the drowsiness they had exhibited earlier. He was definitely fighting sleep and Hagrid's sudden movements were certainly helping him stay awake. Shrugging his shoulders, he climbed back onto the bike and turned the key, hoping the bike would at least start. He wasn't to be disappointed, though a push of the button that was supposed to launch the bike into flight failed him again. Luckily, the engine didn't stall, so Hagrid had just decided to continue on in the Muggle fashion.

Now, he was once more stopped on the side of the road. He had punched the flight button every couple of minutes, hoping it would finally kick in but it never did. However, the bike had stalled again and now Hagrid was standing over it again, wishing briefly that Sirius was there with him to tell him how to fix it. A flying motorbike, even in the wizarding world, was a rare find and Sirius had been just intrigued enough with the Muggle contraption to enchant it in a way that it would function in both societies. Hagrid didn't have that knack and hadn't even a clue about who else could help him. The best he could hope for was that it would eventually start working, preferably before it killed him and Harry with its sudden loss of power.

Another quick peek showed him Harry was awake, but he had a sneaking suspicion the boy had actually been asleep before their unscheduled stop. He was only a little bit east of Newport and, having studied a map while at Elizabeth's home, he suspected he had still had well over an hour to go. He hated to admit it, even if there was no one to presently admit it to, but he was going to be late. He supposed he should be content to complete his mission at all, especially after everything he'd learned, but he still felt that he was going to let Dumbledore down in some fashion. Of course, his estimate of getting there in under two hours was strictly according to the bike's ability to fly. If it wasn't going to fly, it would be much longer if he had to go by Muggle roads.

He heaved a great sigh and got onto the bike again. It roared to life under his massive frame, and he pulled back onto the highway. After a few moments, his finger stabbed out unconsciously and hit the button again. The bike lurched suddenly, alarmingly, and Hagrid tightened his grip on the handles, ready to coast to the side as he prepared for the bike to stall, yet again. Instead, the bike lurched forward again and then it slowly reared up onto the rear wheel before lifting giant and child into the air. Unprepared, but elated at the outcome, Hagrid turned the bike on a more southerly course, foregoing the Muggle highway he had been following and turned out over the Bristol Channel. Once he had lined up with the distant lights of Bristol, he put his hand in his jacket to make sure Harry was safely harnessed to him. It wouldn't do to go to all of this trouble only to drop him in the Channel.

::~*~::

Ten minutes later, Hagrid touched the bike down just outside of Bristol. He knew it was risky, because he might not be able to get it up again, but there had been a moment of terror out over the water when the bike had actually sputtered and Hagrid had noticed a slight loss of altitude. The moment he had regained dry land, he quickly looked for a place to land. Not much scared him, but that split second when he thought they were doomed to a watery grave had done the trick. He didn't want to take any chances, but he knew he was going to have to in order to get into London, at this point, before midnight.

Hagrid opened his jacket and looked down at Harry, yawning and rubbing his eyes. He had clearly been woken from a peaceful slumber, but if Hagrid was careful not to move him too much, he was sure he would fall right back to sleep and stay asleep for the duration of the journey, barring any emergencies. Hagrid tightened the sling, securing Harry closer to his chest. Pulling the jacket closed again, he got back on the bike.

He started the engine, and screwing up his eyes in wishful concentration, he pushed the button again.

::~*~::

In Surrey...

"Hagrid's late," Dumbledore mumbled, checking his golden pocket watch. He slipped it quietly back into his robes and scanned the heavens again. Professor McGonagall sighed heavily next to him. Dumbledore pointedly ignored the implication. He knew very well that McGonagall was questioning his judgment in allowing Hagrid to handle this very important task, but she didn't know what he knew about Hagrid. Now was not the time nor the place to go down that road. He merely stated, with a tone that would allow no argument, "I would trust Hagrid with my life." McGonagall snorted in reply. She didn't need to say anything.

Any further conversation was interrupted by the loud rumbling of a mechanical engine. McGonagall tensed up beside Dumbledore, her eyes sweeping the street. She had been sitting here all day long and, while she hadn't the benefit of extensive knowledge, she was quite sure this was not the type of neighborhood to get any traffic this late at night. The mere sound of an engine drawing closer was beginning to alarm her.

Dumbledore was also looking up and down the street, his brow furrowed in concentration. While the noise was drawing steadily closer, there was still no evidence of what was creating it. Dumbledore had his hand in his robe, preparing to withdraw his wand when a light pierced the darkness, not from the ground, but from the sky.

A motorbike roared out of the heavens, it's single spotlight on the front illuminating the ground beneath it. It hit the ground, a little more harshly than its driver clearly was intending. It skidded to a stop in front of the two bystanders and the light turned off, allowing Dumbledore and McGonagall to see the giant sitting astride it.

Hagrid definitely looked a little worse for wear. His hair, which was normally unruly, had been made even more so by the wind whipping through it. His arms showed some minor burns, but nothing that appeared to give him any trouble. What gave McGonagall's heart the biggest jump was that she could see nothing even remotely resembling a child anywhere on or around the bike. She looked worriedly at Dumbledore and was surprised to see that he didn't look at all troubled by this glaring omission from the picture. She swallowed her worries as Hagrid stepped off the bike and greeted them by name. While she didn't always agree with Dumbledore's methods and way of doing things, she couldn't deny that he always seemed to know exactly what he was doing.

Hagrid quickly covered the short distance between them and pulled open his jacket. Inside, strapped to his chest was a bundle of blankets. McGonagall breathed a sigh of relief. They quickly unharnessed the baby from his massive torso and Hagrid held him protectively in his huge arms. McGonagall looked down at his peaceful face, slumbering contently. She smiled in spite of herself. She had never had children—never even gotten married, in fact. It's not like the opportunity had never presented itself, though. Now, looking down at Harry's sleeping form, she was plagued with what might have been. She shook her head as she looked up, away from Harry. She had made her choice. Not once, but several times. She would do it all over again if she had to.

Dumbledore moved forward, seeking to gently coax the baby out of Hagrid's arms. Hagrid looked shocked at having to part with the young child, even though he knew it had been inevitable. Once the baby was safely in Dumbledore's arms, Hagrid started sobbing, loud, raucous sobs that shook his entire body and, to a lesser degree, the windowpanes of the house they were in front of. McGonagall drew herself up to her full height, trying to be intimidating to the half-giant standing next to her—certainly not a mean feat. "Shhh! You'll wake the Muggles!"

Hagrid did an impressive job of stifling his sobs, but the noise he continued to make was still too loud for her liking. They watched as Dumbledore stepped up to the doorstep and place Harry gently on the welcome mat, tucking a letter safely inside his blankets. The child turned in his sleep, his hands unconsciously reaching out for...something...before settling back down, his sleep remaining undisturbed. Dumbledore quietly stepped back to where his companions were waiting and they watched the scene for just a moment more. Dumbledore was the first to make a move. "We might as well go and join the celebrations." He motioned for them to disperse. Hagrid blew his nose in a giant handkerchief he had pulled from his jacket pocket before stuffing it back inside. Thinking he should probably find Sirius to return his bike, he clambered back onto it, wondering if it would actually launch him into the sky or if he would be forced to continue on the ground, though now that he was so much closer to London, staying on the ground wouldn't be such a problem. The engine roared to life and he halfheartedly pressed the familiar button. With an ease that it hadn't shown since he had left Godric's Hollow, it lifted into the air and soon he was gone from sight, with only Dumbledore and McGonagall to watch his passing.

McGonagall was surprised to find her own cheeks a little moist from tears she hadn't been aware she was shedding. She rubbed the sleeve of her robe over her face, quickly banishing any existence of her momentary weakness from visible eyes, but she knew nothing ever escaped Dumbledore's notice. He pretended not to notice, only saying, "I shall see you soon, I expect, Professor McGonagall." She nodded her head, knowing there was no further reason for her to be there. Without even sparing a look at the bundle of blankets on the doorstep, she turned on the spot and with a loud crack, she was gone.

Dumbledore stood for a moment alone, silently gazing upon Harry. It was a cruel turn of fate that had orphaned this tiny child just twenty-four hours before. It was a cruel turn of fate that had brought young Harry to the only home he had left—and an argument could made that it wasn't going to be much of a home for him. Dumbledore had never done anything lightly, no matter how it may have looked to outsiders. He knew exactly what kind of a life he was signing Harry up for. He shook his head painfully as he turned away and started walking down the street. There was no other option.