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Un-beta'd. If you'd like the job let me know.
To the brightest witch of her age. Happy Birthday Hermione!
Chapter 4
Despite being in Hogwarts for such a short time Lupin's quarters had a lived-in quality about them that Harry rather liked. It helped to ease some of the nerves he had about reading these books with his professors. Just because he agreed to let them be here didn't make him any less nervous about what was about to happen.
Harry took in his surroundings as he walked further in. He had yet to enter any of the professor's quarters and was curious as to what they looked like. The room was rather large, containing both a kitchen and sitting room. The wall on his right held a dark mahogany shelving unit and a stone fireplace. A casual glance at the shelves showed an assortment of books and objects.
The kitchen took up most of the front half of the room. The cooker, sink, cabinets and pantry ran along the walls on the left giving the kitchen an L-shaped design. A round mahogany table with seating for four stood nearby.
The sitting room took up the back half of the space. In front of the fireplace were two off white sofas, one with throw pillows in varying shades of grey. They were facing each other with a coffee table in between. A large checkered area rug was underneath the three pieces of furniture. The wall opposite the fireplace held the second window through which you could make out the Quidditch Pitch. Below the window was a small table that held a few knick-knacks and a vase of lilies.
As he was contemplating the two doors at the far end of the room Lupin started to speak.
"Please make yourselves comfortable. I'll be back in a moment." He stated and walked passed them and through one of the doors.
Unsure of what to do Harry looked to the remaining two professors for instructions and followed them to the sofas. Dumbledore and McGonagall shared the sofa facing the entrance. Harry sat across from the Headmaster on the other sofa.
The nervousness that had eased upon entering the room had returned full force. He was about to read seven books with his professors. Books that happened to be about him. Books that might tell them about the rules he broke. About the laws he broke. He was so screwed.
Remus left his bedroom with the chest in hand to find his colleagues looking at an increasingly paling Harry in concern. He had been gone for only a couple of minutes. What could have possibly happened in that amount of time?
"Harry, is something the matter?" he asked hesitantly. Harry raised his head and looked at him, then at the other two professors before letting out a soft groan.
"I'm going to be in detention for the rest of my life aren't I?" he asked.
Remus breathed a sigh of relief. It was just normal teenage worries. He made his way to the sofa Harry was on and sat down, placing the chest of books on the coffee table.
Dumbledore was chuckling at Harry's response. "I don't believe you have anything to worry about my dear boy. I think," he said after a moment of contemplation, "that we should set rules as we read. We may not need many, but this first one I think will be rather important."
Receiving nods from the rooms other occupants he continued. "We cannot punish any of the students for anything they may have done over the last two years. What is done is done. Following that line of thought any future actions taken by the students also cannot be punished. It would be unfair to punish someone for something they have yet to do.
"I will however say that should you notice a disturbing pattern of behavior of any of our students you may, with just cause, pull them aside for a chat. Or perhaps recommend to their Head of House that they speak with the student. However, all of this must be done without raising suspicion to the existence of these books. Are we all in agreement about this?"
He received an eager yes from Harry (who was thanking Merlin for such an easy-going headmaster), an amused one from Remus (who found Harry's complete 180 entertaining) and a reluctant yes from Minerva (who was wondering what on earth Harry could have possibly done to think he was going to get that many detentions).
"Excellent. Now than I do believe it is time to activate the books and begin our reading. Remus please take out the first of the Essence Books." Once the book was placed on the table Dumbledore turned to Harry. "Harry, what I need you to do is channel some of your magic into the book. It is quite simple to do really. All that is required of you is to cast a spell on the book. Any spell will do."
"Er — okay" he said tentatively. Pulling out his wand he looked at the book and chose a spell he felt was fitting given the situation "Aparecium."
The book became surrounded in a bright golden light that was tinged with silver and even a tiny bit of black. The light pulsed softly for a short while before being absorbed into the book.
Dumbledore reached out and opened the book to reveal words written on what were previously blank pages. "I do believe we were successful. If nobody minds I would like to read first."
Picking up the book he cleared his throat and began to read. Book 1, Chapter 1. The lack of titles didn't escape anyone's notice. It seemed that each book and chapter was going to be a surprise. While this added element of surprise pleased Dumbledore it worried Harry. He had been hoping for a heads up on what they were going to read in order to minimize any damage.
Mr. and Mrs. Dursley was as far as Dumbledore got before he was interrupted.
"Wait a minute. Why are they being mentioned?" Harry asked in distaste, earning himself raised eyebrows from his professors. He found it hard to believe that they ever did anything worth writing about.
"I am sure that the reason for their mention will be revealed as we read. And as we are currently reading about your past Harry I'm sure they will be in several chapters. You have, after all, lived with them for twelve years."
Without waiting for a response Dumbledore began reading again.
Mr. and Mrs. Dursley … were perfectly normal,
'Yes, because it's quite normal to lock your nephew up in a cupboard. People do it all the time,' Harry thought while scowling at the book.
Stealing a glance at Harry, Remus saw the scowl. Harry's reactions whenever his relatives were brought up were beginning to worry him. They were the last thing he expected to see from the boy. Hopefully the books would go into what was causing them.
thank you … with such nonsense.
Dumbledore shook his head sadly. "That is a shame. I find life without a little mystery and some nonsense to be rather dull." He looked horrified at the mere thought.
Mr. Dursley … no finer boy anywhere.
McGonagall narrowed her eyes. She had really hoped that Petunia had grown out of that horrid habit. She remembered that day twelve years ago that she spent watching the young family. At the time she didn't think they were the best parents with the way they spoiled their son. Looking over to Harry, her eyes softened. He had grown into a fine young man. Perhaps they had grown into better parents.
Harry on the other hand looked incredulous. Did the book really just call Dudley small? He felt that the descriptions were very accurate up until that point.
The Dursleys had everything … as unDursleyish as it was possible to be.
Remus' eyes darkened at that.
From the way it was worded he figured this was sometime before that fateful night. He knew enough about Lily's family to know that she and her sister didn't get on, but this was ridiculous. Lily was always thinking of ways to patch things up with her last remaining family. To hear that her sister didn't even want to try was saddening. And how she could call James a good-for-nothing was beyond him. She barely even knew him.
Harry's hands were once again fisted and his jaw clenched. He had heard these sorts of things all the time from the Dursleys. And while it always bothered him to some degree, it was nothing compared to now. Now he knew the truth about his parents and to hear them disrespected like that angered him.
The rooms other occupants wore somber expressions. Neither of them liked what they were hearing but hoped that in light of what happened Petunia's attitude changed.
The Dursleys … didn't want Dudley mixing with a child like that.
Oh how Harry wished he never had to mix with Dudley. He may have been able to make a friend or two before Hogwarts if he didn't have to put up with his cousin and his gang bullying him.
Remus sighed. Lily had wanted to set up play dates between the boys but Petunia never responded. She had been strongly tempted to just show up one day but was afraid that would only exacerbate their already strained relationship.
When Mr. and Mrs. Dursley woke … she wrestled a screaming Dudley into his high chair.
So nothing's changed, Harry thought. Uncle Vernon was still boring, Aunt Petunia was still the neighborhoods biggest gossip and Dudley still threw a tantrum whenever he could get away with it, which was all the time.
None of them noticed … because Dudley was now having a tantrum
Harry rolled his eyes. "There's nothing new about that."
and throwing his cereal at the walls.
"Or that. Although I will admit he's been cutting down on that."
"Your cousin still throws his food?" Remus asked skeptically. He found it hard to believe that a thirteen year old could still behave in such a way.
"Not so much anymore. I think he's finally realized that if he throws it he doesn't get to eat it." Harry stated in all seriousness.
"Little tyke," … a cat reading a map.
Harry was wondering where a cat would get a map from when he saw Dumbledore steal a glance at McGonagall. Turning his attention to her he saw a vaguely smug expression on her face.
For a second,… There was a tabby cat
Had Harry not been watching her he would have missed the twitch of her lips at the words tabby cat. But he had been watching and he did see it. His eyes widened in realization. McGonagall had shown them in their first lesson of the year that she could transform into a cat. She was the tabby cat. No wonder she was amused.
Remus, who had also been watching his former professors, had also come to that realization. The faint smile on Harry's face told him that Harry had figured it out as well.
standing on the corner ... What could he have been thinking of? ('Not much,'thought Harry.) It must have been a trick … cats couldn't read maps or signs. (Remus and Harry hid their snickers at McGonagall's affronted look.) Mr. Dursley … People in cloaks.
Harry very nearly facepalmed. Instead he settled for shaking his head sadly. What was it with wizards and their lack of common sense?
The transfiguration professor, who was pinching the bridge of her nose, let out a soft groan. They had nearly exposed themselves that day, and where would they be today if that had happened?
The Headmaster let out a chuckle at her reaction only to be glared at.
"I do not see what's so funny, Albus. The people in cloaks weren't even the worst of it. It was a miracle we weren't found out that day."
"Why weren't we found out?" Harry asked. He knew what day this was and while he wanted to get this part over quickly he was also curious. He hadn't heard much regarding what happened after that night.
"We were quite lucky. As it was the day after Halloween many simply overlooked the fact that we were in odd dress." Dumbledore answered cheerfully, glad for the distraction.
Mr. Dursley couldn't bear … these weirdos standing quite close by.
McGonagall huffed at that comment while Dumbledore raised a bushy eyebrow.
"Weirdos?" Remus questioned. Sure they were dressed a bit oddly but that was no reason to start calling them names.
Harry just sat there indifferently. He was used to hearing worse from his Uncle about the magical world so this didn't faze him.
They were whispering … yes, that would be it.
Dumbledore gave his deputy a look that clearly said "See, you worry too much."
The traffic moved … never seen an owl, even at nighttime.
Now it was McGonagall's turn to give Dumbledore a look. This one challenging him to explain that away.
"As that has never happened again it was soon forgotten and only remembered as an interesting anecdote."
Harry and Remus were snickering at the byplay between the two.
Mr. Dursley … was in a very good mood
"Wait a minute. Shouting at people puts him in a good mood?" Remus asked Harry.
Harry nodded. "Uncle Vernon doesn't feel the day is complete unless he's shouted at someone." 'Usually me' he added to himself.
The three professors looked concerned at this. If this Dursley liked to shout at people so much at work what was it like in their home?
He was in a very good mood until lunchtime, when he thought he'd stretch his legs and walk
"Did you read that right Professor? I could have sworn you just said Uncle Vernon voluntarily went for walk to stretch his legs."
"Why yes, I did read that correctly Harry. May I inquire as to why you ask? I know I'm getting up there in years but I still find myself capable of reading." Dumbledore replied in a joking manner.
"Er — yes, well," Harry started, thrown off by his Headmasters attitude, "it just doesn't sound very much like him to just go for a walk."
across the road to by himself a bun from the baker's opposite.
A look of comprehension crossed Harry's face. "I should have known it was for food." He said ruefully.
He'd forgotten … a large doughnut (Harry snorted, of course it was large) 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 — "
Harry sighed sadly and avoided looking at the others. He really didn't want to read about this day but knew it was necessary.
Remus was watching Harry. Hearing about this was hard on him, and he knew it would be just as hard for Harry. He wished he could offer him comfort but they were practically strangers and he didn't want to scare him away.
Mr. Dursley stopped dead.
"I wish." Harry mumbled under his breath so the others wouldn't hear him.
Unknowingly to him Remus did hear. He narrowed his eyes, what exactly was this man doing to his cub that would cause him to react in such a way. His mind was racing with so many possibilities that he hadn't even realized that he referred to Harry as 'his cub,' something he hadn't done in many years.
Fear flooded him. ('Good,' Harry thought vindictively, glad that something caused his Uncle to feel that.) He looked back … no, he was being stupid.
"It's about time he admitted it." This comment earned him a disapproving glare from the only witch in the room. Although even she had to admit that he was acting in such a way.
Potter wasn't such an unusual name.
"It may be common in the Muggle world but it's not in the Wizarding world." Remus said.
"I know about the Muggle part, but is it really not that common here?" Harry questioned. He really didn't know much about the whole family name thing.
Remus' eyes widened in surprise. He had thought Harry knew this already. After throwing a glare at Dumbledore he turned to Harry. "No it's not. The Potter's are an old family line and you happen to be the last of them." He paused, unsure how to continue. James had told him a great deal about his family and his responsibilities, but it would be a lot to push on Harry all at once. Seeing that he still held the boy's attention he continued, "As the last of your line you have certain responsibilities that you'll have to see to when you come of age."
Harry just stared at his Defense professor and nodded absently. He didn't think all that name stuff was so important. No wonder Malfoy was so self-righteous.
Dumbledore, aware of the glares being sent his way by his former student, let out a near silent sigh. This was yet another thing he hadn't wanted to burden Harry with so soon.
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. (Harry wondered if his Uncle even knew his name now. He certainly never used it.) He'd never seen the boy. It might have been Harvey. Or Harold. (He made a face at that, glad his name was just Harry.) 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 (His eye twitched, thinking about Aunt Marge) … but all the same, those people in cloaks…
He found it … someone just outside the door.
"Poor bloke. That had to hurt." Harry commented, receiving faint smiles in return.
"Sorry," he grunted,
"I didn't think Uncle Vernon knew how to use that word." Harry voiced in astonishment.
"What do you mean by that Mr. Potter?" McGonagall questioned, concerned as to why Harry would think that.
"Just that I've never heard him use it." He answered as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Which to him it was.
as the tiny old man … hugged Mr. Dursley around the middle and walked off.
Harry, who had been holding in his laughter, could no longer continue to do so. He would have loved to see that happen. The look on his Uncle's face would have been priceless.
Unknowingly his laughter had cleared up some of the tension that was building for what was about to be read. Unfortunately it wouldn't last long.
Mr. Dursley stood rooted to the spot. He had been hugged by a complete stranger. (Harry was still chuckling.) He … didn't approve of imagination.
Dumbledore paused to reread that sentence. "I will never understand what some people have against imagination. A wise Muggle once said 'The power of imagination makes us infinite.' I quite agree with him. Especially since its imagination that moves us forward in life."
As he pulled into the driveway … it had the same markings around its eyes.
The three males glanced at the cat Animagus.
"Shoo!" said Mr. Dursley loudly.
The cat didn't move. It just gave him a stern look.
Now they shuddered, all having been given that look at one point in their lives.
Was this normal cat behavior? … Dudley had learned a new word ("Shan't").
"That is not something to be proud of." McGonagall said disdainfully. "From what I remember he used it quite often that day."
To her dismay Harry added, "He still does."
Mr. Dursley tried to act normally … "I can promise a wet night tonight."
While McGonagall was muttering something about Diggle Harry let out a low whistle. Cloaks may be easily overlooked but owls and shooting stars kind of stand out.
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…
McGonagall gave a resigned sigh. There was really nothing to be done about it now. And even though it irked her how careless everyone was she could at least admit that Mr. Dursley already had prior knowledge to their world and would be more likely to connect things. But it was the newscasters that worried her. They reached a far larger audience then a single person.
Mrs. Dursley … normally pretended she didn't have a sister.
Harry often pretended he wasn't related to the Dursley's.
Remus sighed sadly. It would have hurt Lily deeply to hear that.
"No," she said sharply. "Why?"
"Funny stuff on the news," Mr. Dursley mumbled. "Owls… shooting stars… and there were a lot of funny-looking people in town today…"
"So?" snapped Mrs. Dursley.
"Well, I just thought… maybe… it was something to do with… you know… her 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.
The word 'coward' ran through each Gryffindor's mind.
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."
"Well nobody asked you," Remus grumbled. While he was extremely grateful that this woman took Harry in when he couldn't, he wished she'd just shut her gob before he did it for her.
"Oh, yes," said Mr. Dursley, his heart sinking horribly. "Yes, I quite agree."
He didn't say another word … waiting for something.
Dumbledore looked to the cat Animagus. "You know Minerva I had honestly believed you exaggerated when you told me you had spent the entire day on Privet Drive."
Shooting him one of her stern looks she replied, "Since when have you known me to exaggerate things Albus?"
"Never my dear. So sorry for not believing you that evening." He answered.
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.
'Well I can't bear being related to you lot," Harry thought savagely.
The Dursleys got into bed. (Harry wrinkled his nose in disgust at the thought.) … it couldn't affect them…
How very wrong he was.
For once Harry wished he was right.
Mr. Dursley might have been drifting into an uneasy sleep, but the cat on the wall outside was showing no sign of sleepiness. It was sitting as still as a statue, its eyes fixed unblinkingly on the far corner of Privet Drive. It didn't so much as quiver when a car door slammed on the next street, nor when two owls swooped overhead. In fact, it was nearly midnight before the cat moved at all.
"Er — Professor? How did you manage to do that all night?" Harry asked her tentatively.
"Years of practice Mr. Potter." Harry saw her shooting Lupin a look at this and saw that he was looking back at her innocently.
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.
Harry's eyes lit up in curiosity. He wondered if this was another way of magical travel and if it was better than Floo travel and the Knight Bus.
Seeing the look in Harry's eyes Dumbledore explained. "Harry, do you remember when I told you there was more than one way for a person to become invisible." Receiving a somewhat confused nod he continued, "What I use is called a Disillusionment Charm. It renders you invisible to the naked eye, though there are ways to detect it. The night I visited Privet Drive I travelled by Thestral under the charm."
"What's a Thestral?" He had been able to follow the explanation up until that.
"A Thestral is a winged horse that is invisible to most people. They can only be seen by a person who has seen death. This of course has given them a bad reputation, but like most animals they're harmless as long as you treat them right." Remus answered. As an afterthought he added, "Hogwarts has a herd. They pull the carriages to and from the train station."
While Harry was wondering if riding a flying horse was anything like riding Buckbeak Dumbledore decided to continue reading.
Nothing like this man … was unwelcome.
"Sadly that happens more often than one would think. For some reason people seem to find my choice in robes to be too flamboyant."
As he was currently wearing lime green robes the rooms other occupants couldn't help but agree.
He was busy … and muttered, "I should have known."
"I really should have," he murmured.
He found … a little pop.
Unconsciously, both Harry and Remus leaned in. Neither knowing what the object was.
He clicked it again … the Put-Outer,
Dumbledore made an amused face. "Actually, it is called a Deluminator. It is one of my own creations."
… after a moment he spoke to it.
"Fancy seeing you here, Professor McGonagall."
He turned to smile at the tabby, but it had gone. Instead he was smiling at a rather severe-looking (McGonagall raised an eyebrow at that) woman … She looked distinctly ruffled.
"Of course I was ruffled. I spent the entire day as a cat waiting for you."
"How did you know it was me?" she asked.
"My dear Professor, I've never seen a cat sit so stiffly."
Harry and Remus stifled their laughter in a vain attempt to avoid the stern professor's ire.
"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."
Remus sighed. He had nothing to celebrate at the end of the war. After losing so much in such a short span of time he felt lucky not to have fallen prey to depression. Truthfully, the only reason he hadn't was because Harry was still alive. That alone kept him from breaking completely.
Professor McGonagall sniffed angrily.
An action she repeated presently.
"Oh yes, everyone's celebrating, all right," … not completely stupid.
Realizing how that sounded McGonagall jumped in to defend herself. "By that I meant their habit of passing magic off as a trick of the eye. So many things were going on that it was nearly impossible for that to occur that day."
They were bound to notice something. Shooting stars down in Kent — I'll bet that was Dedalus Diggle. He never had much sense."
"He still doesn't," she added.
"You can't blame them," said Dumbledore gently. "We've had precious little to celebrate for eleven years."
Harry gasped in surprise. "Did the war really last that long?"
"Unfortunately it did. Voldemort began his reign of terror quietly. By the time most of the wizarding world became aware of what was happening he already had a strong foothold and powerful backers. Had we realized earlier we may have been able to put a stop to the worst of it."
Harry, though pleased to notice that no one in the room flinched as Dumbledore said the name, couldn't help but be saddened by all the damage one man caused.
"I know that," … I suppose he really has gone, Dumbledore?"
"There were so many different rumors floating around I wasn't sure what to believe. I knew if anyone would be able to tell me it would be the Headmaster."
"It certainly seems so," said Dumbledore. "We have much to be thankful for. Would you care for a sherbet lemon?"
"A what?"
"A sherbet lemon. They're a kind of Muggle sweet I'm rather fond of."
"I still am. Next time we meet I'll bring a bowl."
"No, thank you," … Voldemort's name."
"Of course you haven't," she mumbled.
"I know you haven't," … was frightened of."
McGonagall rolled her eyes and admitted "I have to say it's a hard habit to break. I still find myself referring to him as You-Know-Who."
"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."
The youngest two in the room felt that they really didn't need to know that.
Professor McGonagall shot a sharp look at Dumbledore and said, "The owls are nothing next to the rumors that are flying around. You know what they're saying? About why he's disappeared? About what finally stopped him?"
Sad looks were sent Harry's way but he skillfully avoided them by staring at a spot on the table in front of him.
Remus was also on the receiving end of said looks but didn't notice as his attention was on Harry.
It seemed that Professor McGonagall …
"What they're saying," she pressed on, "is that last night Voldemort turned up in Godric's Hollow. He went to find the Potters. The rumor is that Lily and James Potter are — are — that they're — dead."
Dumbledore paused in his reading to allow a moment of silence for the couple and the family that was destroyed in a single night.
Dumbledore bowed his head. Professor McGonagall gasped.
… "That's not all. They're saying he tried to kill the Potters' son, Harry.
Remus' breathing hitched. Just the thought of possibly losing Harry that night left him distraught.
But he couldn't … how in the name of heaven did Harry survive?"
"We can only guess." said Dumbledore. "We may never know."
Harry finally looked up and began to speak only for his voice to catch. Clearing his throat, he started again, "But didn't you say —"
Realizing that Harry didn't really want to speak about this Dumbledore interrupted. "Yes. At the time though I hadn't fully investigated what had occurred. I did have several theories, but it was still too soon to share them."
Harry nodded in understanding, grateful that Dumbledore knew what he wanted to ask.
…
"Hagrid's late.
… They're the only family he has left now."
'Unfortunately,' Harry thought morosely.
Remus, on the other hand disagreed. Harry may not be aware of it (and most likely never would be) but he considered Harry to be a part of his family and always would.
"You don't mean … Harry Potter come and live here!"
"It's the best place for him,"
Harry snorted. He could think of several places that were better. "A pack of wolves would have done a better job raising me," he muttered.
Remus choked on his laughter at irony of that. If Harry only knew.
Dumbledore looked up in concern. "Remus, are you alright?"
"I'm fine sir. Please continue."
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."
Harry raised an eyebrow, he never got that explanation from them. Or the letter.
Remus was confused by the mention of a letter. If the two professors were dropping Harry off in person what purpose would a letter serve? They could have just explained it all while they were there.
"A letter?" … every child in our world will know his name!"
"I really wish they didn't."
"Exactly." … ready to take it?"
After two years of dealing with it Harry felt that he still wasn't ready to take it.
Professor McGonagall opened her mouth, changed her mind, swallowed, and then said, "Yes — yes, you're right, of course.
'At least she tried,' Harry thought sadly.
But how is the boy getting here, Dumbledore?" She eyed his cloak suddenly as though she thought he might be hiding Harry underneath it.
Harry looked wide-eyed at his professor, silently begging for it not to be true. Hearing the next sentence he let out a sigh of relief.
"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.
As would Harry, although he made a mental note not to trust Hagrid when it came to the man's pets.
"I'm not saying …in front of them.
"It was real?" Harry asked in awe. He had dreamt of a flying motorbike several times over the years, but not once did he think it was real. So caught up in his thoughts of it he didn't even notice the curious looks he was getting.
If the motorbike was huge … holding a bundle of blankets.
… I've got him, sir."
Remus' eyes flashed gold. If Black had leant Hagrid his motorbike it meant he was there that night. He was so close to Harry. Thank Merlin Hagrid had got there first. Who knows what Black would have done to Harry had he been able to take him.
In the back of his mind he couldn't help but wonder why Black would lend Hagrid his motorbike.
"No problems, were there?"
…
"Couldn't you do something about it, Dumbledore?"
Harry listened carefully, hoping that something could be done about it.
"Even if I could, I wouldn't. Scars can come in useful. I have one myself above my left knee that is a perfect map of the London Underground.
Remus looked to his employer and couldn't help but ask, "Professor, how does one acquire a scar like that?"
"It's quite an interesting story. You see…" He trailed off at a look from his deputy. "Perhaps now is not the best time for that story."
Well — give him here, Hagrid …
… Hagrid let out a howl like a wounded dog.
Harry smiled fondly at the thought of Hagrid. His heart was always in the right place.
"Shhh!" … came back to the other two.
"I'm sorry sir, but did I hear that correctly?" Remus asked, forcing his voice to remain calm. "Because I could have sworn you just said that you left Harry on a doorstep. In November. In the middle of the night. Not only did you not speak to the Dursleys directly about taking Harry in, but you didn't even ring the doorbell so they would know he was out there. The weather forecast said rain. He could have become seriously ill!"
McGonagall glared at Dumbledore. She had told him it wasn't the best idea to just leave Harry like that, but he was Dumbledore and it was hard to change his mind about some things.
Harry didn't understand what the big deal was. He had always known he was found on the doorstep and he was obviously fine so what was the point in worrying about it now.
Dumbledore just listened as he was ranted at by the young professor. He knew he probably deserved that, after all he had promised him that he would ensure Harry was safely placed with his new guardians.
For a full minute the three … Professor McGonagall blew her nose in reply.
"Of course you would be seeing me soon. We still had students to look after and classes to teach."
Dumbledore turned …"Good luck, Harry," he murmured.
"I need more than luck in that place," Harry voiced lowly, earning himself a concerned glance from the man next to him.
He turned on his heel and with a swish of his cloak, he was gone.
… "To Harry Potter — the boy who lived!"
Harry glared at the book. He hated that name and wished people would stop using it.
"We appear to have time for another chapter." Dumbledore announced, placing the book on the table. "Any volunteers?"
"Before we continue on I think we should discuss what just happened." Remus' voice had a steely quality to it. "You did just leave a fifteen month old on a doorstep. I find myself curious as to your reasons behind doing something like that."
"Now Remus, I understand how you feel about this but there were extenuating circumstances that night that made it necessary for me to proceed in the way that I did." Dumbledore knew he needed to thread carefully with this as to not upset the wolf inside the man. He had seen the wolf's interest spark during the reading and knew that he quite close to the surface.
"I would like to hear what these 'extenuating circumstances' are." Remus was not backing down. Neither was Moony. They both wanted answers.
"Perhaps it would be best to save any discussions for before we part for the night." His pointed glance at Harry did not escape Remus' notice. He narrowed his eyes at the man. Whatever he had to say he obviously didn't want to say in front of Harry. Nodding his head in agreement he promised himself that one way or another he would get his answers tonight.
While the professors were coming to this agreement Harry was lost in thought. That chapter had left him wondering just how much of his home life would be in these books. It was something he didn't want anyone in the wizarding world to know about. Not even Ron and Hermione knew, although he suspected they knew more than they let on.
If people were going to find out he wanted to be in charge of how. With that in mind he offered to read.
The power of imagination makes us infinite. ~ John Muir
I hope this method works out. I've considered doing the paragraph number thing, but I have difficulty reading it myself and wasn't sure if anyone else would.