I AM ONLY GOING TO DO THIS ONCE FOR THIS STORY, BECAUSE I'M PRETTY SURE THAT IT WILL NOT CHANGE DURING THIS STORY: I do not, nor have or will I ever own the Harry Potter book or movie series.


Posted 30 December 2012

Minor mistakes editted as of 3 January 2013

Total words: 8, 071

It was a few weeks into the term of Harry Potter's fifth year. It was after dinner and everyone was busy. Be it with homework, studying or hanging out with their friends. It was simply not late enough to go to sleep yet.

One, Harry James Potter was making his way back to the Gryffindor common room after another grueling detention from Hogwart's residential toad, also known as Dolores Umbridge.

Harry winced as his left hand brushed against his school robes. The angry red lettering of 'I must not tell lies' standing out on his slightly pale skin.

He conjured some bandages and wrapped it around his injured hand and then sticking the end of the bandage firmly in place by using a sticking charm on it.

He was so busy with treating his wound that he never noticed the pulsing light that seemed to get bigger the closer it came to him. Before he could react he the light engulfed him.

Before he knew what was happening he found himself falling into a room. With a grunt he landed on the fluffy black carpet that seemed to stretch over the room.

As he slowly righted himself he became aware that he could hear small moans of pain from around the room.

"Everybody alright?" he heard the unmistakable grandfatherly voice of Albus Dumbledore.

A series of positive feedback in the form of grunts and moans was the reply.

Harry stood up to look around the room where he noticed the Weasley's, Fleur, Hermione, Sirius, Remus, Tonks, Dumbledore, McGonagall, Katie Bell, Alicia Spinnet, Angelina Johnson and to his dismay Snape and Draco Malfoy.

"What are we doing here?" Hermione questioned.

Before anyone could answer her a note popped into the room and started reading itself. It started with a voice that obviously belonged to a young man.

Hi everyone,

I'm James Sirius Potter and I'm really sorry dad, but this was the only way.

Gasps filled the room.

Harry was to busy thinking that he would actually be a father that he did not hear the part about being sorry. I'm going to be a father!

I'm sorry this has to happen like this but we have gathered you all here today so that you could read a couple of books about the past, present and future

Why are you speaking so formally? Came a young female's voice, almost childlike.

Sorry for the confusion but we are recording this using a dicta-quill and to answer your question they don't know us yet so we can't really be all buddy-buddy

The time outside of this room is frozen.

More people might be coming later, especially one special person.

One special person?

Yes, mom you idiot. Dad doesn't know her yet so we have to find her first before we can send her to them. Another boy's voice commented.

A small unnoticed sob escaped Ginny. He doesn't know his future wife yet!

You guys, shut up! The dicta-quill is still going and mom and dad will flay ground you for speaking like that to Lily. Anyway hope you enjoy. Oh, points can not be given or taken and the same goes for detentions, because without these books you wouldn't have known about it.


PS. The room works just like the Room of Requirements.

Silence rang through the room like a gun shot.

Hermione decided to break the silence by stating "That means that this James S. Potter is your son, Harry."

"I'm going to have a son?" He asked somewhat dazed - even though the answer was very obviously he felt that he had to voice it, maybe then it would feel more believable.

"But, they said you haven't met 'mom' yet. I wonder who could it be…" She trailed off

Everyone was so in thought or still shocked that no one noticed the heart-broken faces of Ginevra Weasley and her mother.

"... And apparently you are going to have a daughter named Lily and you must have another son..." Going in a trance like state while she tried to analyze everything.

"My godson is going to get some!" Sirius sang out with a big grin on his face before being reprimanded by the majority of the women in the room.

"So where are-"

"-these so called-"

"books?" The Weasley twins finished simultaneously.

A blue light filled the room before decreasing in size until the blue light was centered on the dark coffee table in the living room. When the light resided completely there was one book, that had no title or any indication of what it was about - just a plain red leather-bound book with a post-it note on it.

Harry slowly approached the book and picked up the note.

"It says 'After each book has been read the next will appear. The books have been charmed so no one can read ahead. Enjoy!"

"Shall we start reading then?" Dumbledore inquired

Everyone steadily agreed and readily moved towards the living area, all besides Snape and Malfoy after grumbling about reading about 'pampered-potter-the-prat' before finding seats mostly away from everyone but close enough to hear.

Most of the Weasley's moved towards one of the bigger couches, a few noticed Ginny's face which had a few tears down her cheeks, but she went ignored for everyone knew about her unhealthy fan-girl obsession she had with Harry, who everyone knew hated fan-girls.

Ron, Hermione and Harry sat on a big sofa like the Weasley's where Hermione sat in between the two boys. The three chasers sat next to them. Katie Bell being the closest to Harry.

Tonks, Remus and Sirius moved to a couch that could seat three people.

Bill and Fleur moved to a love seat that was closest to the Weasley's.

The rest of the people seated around the room in various arm chairs.

"Who wants to read?" Hermione questioned, when no one came forward she took the book before stating,"honestly you'd think it's going to kill you"

To which Ron rumbled, "You get those."

Ignoring him completely she opened the book with a mild look of surprise on her face before opening the nameless book.

Clearing her throat she began,CHAPTER ONE - The Boy Who Lived

"What these books are about me?" Harry yelped

"Well unless you know another Boy-Who-Lived?" One of the Weasley twins questioned

Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much.

"Your quite welcome." Fred and George chorused in a stuck up pompous tone.

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.

"Aghast!" Was the noise that George Weasley made before he pretended to faint into his brothers open arms.

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. 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.

"Such lovely people." Katie stated sarcastically.

"You have no idea." Harry muttered, although he did not mean for it to be heard a few people did however hear and were giving him a questioning look which went ignored.

The Dursleys had a small son called Dudley and in their opinion there was no finer boy anywhere.

The Twins, Harry and Ron burst out laughing while Arthur chuckled quietly much to Molly's disapproval.

"There's nothing small, nor fine about him!" Ron stated making the laughter louder

"Ronald!" Molly reprimanded him, while a few that found it funny rolled their eyes at her.

The Dursleys had everything they wanted, but they also had a secret, and their greatest fear was that somebody would discover it.

"What secret?"

They didn't think they could bear it if anyone found out about the Potters.

"There's nothing wrong with the Potters!" Sirius all but snarled. No one wanted to point out that he spoke in the present tense.

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

"Not a word." Grumbled Hermione.

"Well I for one am glad that I'm 'unDursleyish'." Harry stated while crossing his arms across his chest.

"Yes, me too." Katie agreed, seeing the questioning looks she continued, "I don't know if I could take having to see some half-animal, half-human, hybrid-thing each day."

"We've corrupted you." The twins breathed, their voices sounding awed, the same time Alicia and Angelina sobbed, "They've corrupted you."

"Carry on, miss Granger." Sighed McGonagall.

as it was possible to be. The Dursleys shuddered to think what the neighbors 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.

"Yeah, well I don't want to mix with a child like yours either." Harry pouted jokingly, sounding like a five year old child.

"Aww, look how cute he is!" Angelina cooed while Alicia reached over to pinch his cheeks and Katie held him in place.

Everyone watched with amused expressions at what looked like three older sisters trying to force their young brother into doing something against his will.

When Mr. and Mrs. Dursley woke up on the dull, gray 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.

"CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" Harry and Tonks roared making people jump. Hermione screamed with fright before hitting a laughing Harry with the book. Remus was rubbing his ears while scowling at Tonks and Sirius, who were laughing quite loudly.

At half past eight, Mr. Dursley picked up his briefcase, pecked Mrs. Dursley on the cheek, and tried to kiss Dudley good-bye but missed, because Dudley was now having a tantrum and throwing his cereal at the walls. "Little tyke,"

"He encourages zat?" Fleur asked outraged - her accent noticeably lighter than the previous term at Hogwarts.

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.

"Minnie." Sirius and Remus grinned at said Animagus.

As Minerva was about to tell them off the Twins started chanting, "Minnie, Minnie, Minnie..."

"Look what you've done!" she scolded

"Minnie?" Harry said with a thoughtful look on his face, as if he was testing it out, before he grinned and stated, "I like it!"

Minerva groaned while the Twins and the remaining Marauders looked at him with pride.

For a second, Mr. Dursley didn't realize 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.

"We have found her weakness, Gred!" Forge whispered to the fore mentioned Gred.

Mr. Dursley gave himself a little shake 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.

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.

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.

"I always knew you were a weirdo, Remy." Sirius stated as if he had a disease - his response being a punch in the shoulder that was infused with a bit of werewolf strength.

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! 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 parking lot, his mind back on drills.

"What are these drills they keep speaking of?" Arthur finally burst out, looking as if he was refraining from asking the whole time, he continued, "and do they work with plugs?" He asked gleefully.

All those that knew about Arthur's obsession with muggle-ry (Yes, I made that up.. I think) smiled fondly at him before turning back to the room.

"How about you right down everything you don't know or need more information about, Mr Weasley, and if there's time when we have a break I'll try to explain as best I can." Hermione kindly offered.

Arthur's whole face lit up like a kid on Christmas. Some parchment, a quill and an ink well before the furious scratching of qt he quill on parchment was heard.

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. Most of them had never seen an owl even at nighttime.

Draco wanted to question why, but at the look his godfather was giving him he decided to keep quiet.

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. 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.

"Ah. Wait, just one?"

The pranksters in the room grinned. The teachers, all except Snape who sneered along side Draco, groaned a little, while the rest of the teens chuckled - not use to a funny, carefree Harry.

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 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, 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"

"Oh, it's that day." Harry said in a voice devoid of emotion which startled a few occupants of the room.

Realization dawned on everyone else's faces. It was that day.

Mr. Dursley stopped dead.

"I wish." Harry muttered causing many to look at him oddly.

While Hermione tried to get Harry to elaborate on why he felt that way, Snape couldn't help but think,'Potter is an arrogant, attention-seeking, ungrateful brat. Just like his father. People have taken him into their home and treat him like a prince and he wishes them dead - Probably didn't make his eggs like he wanted them!'

Meanwhile, Minerva gave Dumbledore a glare that screamed 'He better been treat right there or you will be in a world of pain' which he tried in vain to look as if it didn't affect him.

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 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.

Harry laughed. "Step Three: Acceptance!"

Hermione, Tonks and everyone who understood the reference laughed, while others looked confused.

"Steps of what?" Draco asked some-what frustrated 'Why are these idiots laughing?!', causing the laughter to increase.

Severus shook his sadly at his godson. 'He should just keep his mouth shut.'

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.

"He did not know your name, 'Arry?" Fleur asked with a face of displeasure that only the female population of France could pull off.

"I don't even know if he knows it now, to be frank." Harry responded quietly to the growls in the room.

He'd never even seen the boy. It might have been Harvey. Or Harold. 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...

'Lily should have pretended that she was an only child not you, Petunia!' Snape sneered mentally.

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.


"He knows that word?" Gasped Ron.

"I'm surprised to." Commented Harry.

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! Even Muggles like yourself should be celebrating, this happy, happy day!" And the old man hugged Mr. Dursley around the middle and walked off.

"His arms fit?" Harry cried much to people's amusement.

"Maybe they made-"

"-a printing error-"

"-it probably was meant to say-"

"-the old man TRIED to hug him!" They finished with grins.

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.

Minerva and the twins looked affronted. For different reasons, obviously.

For the twins without imagination many of their pranks would never have happened. Probably 99% of their entire arsenal.

Meanwhile, for Minerva the thought that no one could approve of imagination - when creativity was a big part of transfiguration - was absurd.

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. It was now sitting on his garden wall. He was sure it was the same one; it had the same markings around its eyes.

"Shoo!" said Mr. Dursley loudly. The cat didn't move. It just gave him a stern look.

Many shuddered having received said look Numerous times.

Was this normal cat behavior? 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.

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!").

"Oh so proud of the little tyke." Ron muttered sarcastically.

"Ronald!" Molly like always, scolded him.

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 newscaster 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." "Well, Ted,"

"That's my daddy!" Tonks stated proudly with a grin.

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 in cloaks all over the place. And a whisper, a whisper about the Potters...

"He can put it together." Gasped Alicia.

"Well in all fairness it seems that the muggle knew about the magical world already." Katie supplied.

"True, he's not smart enough to figure it out without knowing." Angelina responded.

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?"

As he had expected, Mrs. Dursley looked shocked and angry. After all, they normally pretended she didn't have a sister.

"That's horrible." Arthur commented.

"Yeah, I would never pretend Ginny didn't exist." Charlie commented, earning an appreciate smile from Ginny, who hadn't spoken since the first letter had arrived, "I couldn't - she's too annoying to ignore." He finished with a grin and a wink in her direction - defusing the tension, that was slowly building, somewhat.

"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 crowd."

Everyone growled.

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."

"It's my nick name and it's better than Dudley!" Harry said in an indignant tone.

"Nickname?" Hermione questioned, she didn't know that and she knew a lot of things!

"Uhm yeah." He started uncomfortably, he could feel everyone's gaze on him, "When I went to primary school on the first day they called my full name for the register and I found out that I have a... er shall I say - more formal name."

"...and?" Tonks prompted


"What's your full name?" Bill asked.

"Uh.. Well I don't think I want to tell you really."

"Come on, Harry!" Hermione tried, always the curious one - having to know as much as possible, but Harry stubbornly refused.

"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.

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.

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.

How very wrong he was.

"He has to be use to that by now." Sirius grumbled while Remus nodded his head in agreement.

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.

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.

"Someone's going to get in trouble!" Harry sang out.

"and it's not going to be us!" The twins added.

"For once" Many chorused. A few mockingly, one or two with anger, but mostly with a sad resigned sigh.

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.

People cheered much to Malfoy's disgust. Cheering for the muggle-lover!

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

"Oh, I knew." He stated but did not elaborate leaving the impression that he hadn't cared if he was unwelcome or not.

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."

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.

"I want one!" The twins and the Golden Trio exclaimed simultaneously.

"NO!" Shouted the majority of the room causing pouts to appear on their faces. - Harry's however disappear quite fast when he noticed the Gryffindor chasers turn to him, he did not want his cheeks pinched again thank you very much.

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.

"Fancy seeing you here, Professor McGonagall." He turned to smile at the tabby, but it had gone.

Instead he was smiling at a rather severe-looking woman who 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.

Several people looked at her in disbelief only to be met by her famous glare.

"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.

"Nobody asked you to go there." Severus sneered. Probably making sure that the muggles will be able to accommodate The Royal Brat's demands.

"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 Muggles 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. They were bound to notice something. Shooting stars down in Kent - I'll bet that was Dedalus Diggle. He never had much sense."

"True, but he's a nice enough bloke." Harry commented.

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

"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 rumors." 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."

"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."

"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."

All but Harry, Remus, Sirius, Hermione and Dumbledore flinched.

Professor McGonagall flinched.

"Just a bloody name." Harry muttered under his breath.

but Dumbledore, who was un-sticking 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."

"I could 'ave lived my whole life wizzout knowing zat!" Fleur stated looking rather ill, while the rest of the young adults (Sirius believing that he is included in this category) turned a bit green - Tonks actually turned her skin green.

Dumbledore's cheeks had a slight pink coloring to them.

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 everyone's saying. About why he's disappeared. About what finally stopped him." 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.

"Meant to say - Decided not to answer."

"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 bowed his head.

Everyone bowed there heads in respect and a few sniffles were heard. A few looked at Harry who was staring intently at the wall opposite him blinking furiously.

Mrs Weasley got up and tried to hug him, but he didn't respond for he was really uncomfortable - first, he did not like physical contact that much and second, he was not fond of having his ribs crushed. Mr Weasley with the help of a few of their sons pried her off.

Professor McGonagall gasped. "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."

"Wouldn't we like to know." Malfoy grumbled.

"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.

UDumbledore 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."

"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."

"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!"

"You should have tried harder." Harry's voice was muffled by the pillow that in the last few paragraphs he had stuffed his face into.

"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?!" Most females screeched red in the face.

"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

Harry, who had pulled his face out of the pillow so fast many were surprised he did not get whiplash, asked in small voice, "There isn't right?" He looked desperate.

"No, my boy." Dumbledore answered

Harry just nodded his head. Dumbledore wants to ignore me for the first few weeks of school but now he's speaking to me - Thats not how it works!

- there will be books written about Harry - every child in our world will know his name!"

Harry pulled a face.

Just like his father. Snape sneered mentally. While many thought 'Just like Lily - never did like attention.'

"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't 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.

People shivered at the thought.

"Hagrid's bringing him."

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

"There's many things you can trust Hagrid with - Just not your secrets." Harry stated to general agreement of the room. A few had fond smiles on their faces as they thought of all the things Hagrid let slip by accident.

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

"Yes, he's very loyal." Charlie stated. He was on good terms with Hogwarts' resident animal-lover.

"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.

"My baby..." Sirius sighed wistfully

I've got him, sir."

"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 majority of the females cooed.

"I'll show you guys some photos when we get back - he was the cutest baby!"Sirius bragged while Harry groaned and blushed so red he could put the Weasleys to shame.

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.

"You where such an adorable baby." Minerva commented as the female cooed again, causing Harry to blush again and the boys of the room to coo mockingly.

"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. Well - give him here, Hagrid - we'd better get this over with." 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.

"I find that highly offensive and down right demeaning!" huffed a certain animagus.

"Shhh!" hissed Professor McGonagall, "you'll wake the Muggles!"

"If the motorcycle didn't wake them I doubt Hagrid would." Bill commented.

"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 doorstep,

This action alone had many grumbling and growling.

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.


"That sucks..." The troublesome twosome finished lamely.

"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.

"I assure you there were warming and protection charms on him." Dumbledore quickly tried to placate those that looked ready to hex him.

"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

"Aww..." Katie pinched his cheek.

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-who's-parents-didn't" Harry whispered at the exact moment the room became dead quiet.

Hermione and Molly looked as if they were about to open their mouths but were cut off by Remus, with a shake of his head, and Sirius, who plainly stated, "Don't." - He was going to talk to his pup soon to at least be there for him to grief if need be.

"How about we all go to bed. It's been a long day. We can start after breakfast tomorrow morning - please be down at eight o'clock." Dumbledore instructed.

A staircase appeared out of nowhere that led to a hall with various doors with names on it.

It seemed that people were paired up for a Room. Which had a common room that had doors presumably leading to the bedrooms, fully stocked with necessities, and a bathroom.

'Good nights' were murmured in between yawns before everyone retired to their rooms.

Groups are -

1) Three Chasers

2) Harry, Ron and Charlie

3) Mr & Mrs Weasley and Ginny

4) Bill and The Twins

5) Hermione, Fleur and Tonks

6) Remus and Sirius

7) Malfoy and Snape

8) McGonagall and Dumbledore


1. How should I go about Snape?

2. What do you think Harry's full name should be? (Ex. Harrison, Hadrian etc.) or should I go back and change it? It won't be used often only now and then during the reading.

3. Up until which books should I do the story? Please do take note that I have only read up until book 4 and a part of book 5, but I know mostly what happens in the other books.

Please review so I at least know if I'm doing something right or not. Any advice is appreciated.