Author's Note: Hi everyone! Thank you to everyone for all your support. I probably won't update on any sort of schedule an I'm super sorry about the long wait. I hope everyone enjoys!

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, that pleasure is for J. K. Rowling and as this is a "Read The Books" story the book's lines will be in bold.

Chapter 2

Previously, Ludo Bagman was holding the book and read out "Chapter 1, The Boy Who Lived".

"Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, of number, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much. They were the last people you'd expect to be 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." Diggry inturrupted, asking

"What does this have to do with Potter?" Then, blushing, he sheepishly muttered

"Sorry for cutting in Mr. Bagman." They turned towards me and I looked away mumbling

"They're my aunt and uncle. I live with them." Crouch barked out

"Speak up Potter!"

"They're my aunt and uncle. I live with them." Diggory nodded in understanding, so Bagman started up again.

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

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

Delacour sneered, grumbling "Et is probably from being related to Potter", she glared at me, " and how much of an attention seeking liar he is." Crouch and Diggory looked like they wanted to agree, but held their tongues, while Bagman rebuked her,

" Ms. Declour! That is not polite! If you do not have anything nice to say, do not say anything at all." I glared at the floor, wanting to shout at her, but I didn't, as it wouldn't of helped. Looking up, I saw Krum glaring at her for some reason. Was it because she was being rude? Whatever, it's probably just his regular face. Bagman stared at Delacour, waiting for something, until she growled out

"Sorry Potter" while giving me the evil eye. Bagman restarted, though the first couple of sentences were read very angrily.

"They didn't think they could bear it if anyone found out about the Potters." Delacour smirked, announcing

"See, I was right!" Everyone gave her dirty looks, even Crouch and Diggory. She shrunk back, losing her smirk, but still looked smug. Looking back at the book, Bagman started reading again.

"Mrs. Potter was Mrs. Dursley's sister, but they hadn't met for several years; in fact, Mrs. Dursley pretended she didn't have a sister, because her sister and her good-for-nothing husband were as unDursleyish as it was possible to be."

During that sentence, Bagman's voice got harder and harder, while Crouch went red. When Bagman finished his sentence, they growled angrily.

"How dare that women say that. Lily and James were the best people you could find. James was the best auror in over a century. Not good-for-nothing! And, Lily was training to be a healer while apprenticing under Flitwick for a Charms Mastery. Of course she had to stop both when they went into hiding. James probably wouldv'e studied under McGonagall if it weren't for the war as well" Through it all I was watching silently, trying to soak in as much information about my parents as I could.

When they were done with their rants, I was staring at them in shock. Crouch seemed unnerved and asked

"Boy, why didn't you jump to the defence of your parents?" I stared at the floor mumbling

"I'm used to it," I shrugged, "seeing as I lived there for 11 years and go back every summer. Also, I was trying to find out more things about my parents. I don't really know much about them and no one likes talking about it since they're dead." They stared at me in horror while I shifted uncomfortably, until Crouch grumbled

"Brat or not you deserve to know about your parents boy. Ask us some questions when we break for food and such and we'll answer them to the best of our ability." I was shocked but Bagman was mumbling so I whispered

"Thank you." Furrowing his eyebrows Bagman said

"Nonsense Harry! You deserve to know as much as we do, if not more, seeing as they're your parents." He sat down and started up again

"The Dursleys shuddered to think what the neighbors would say if the Potters arrived in the street." Interrupting himself Bagman muttered something, presumably an insult, while Crouch looked like a storm cloud was going to form over his head. Bagman muttered

"Sorry" then continued to read.

"The Dursleys knew that the Potters had a small son, too, but they had never seen him. This boy was another good reason for keeping the Potters away; they didn't want Dudley mixing with a child like that." Almost everyone frowned, with Diggory muttering something like

"Potter might be an attention seeking brat, but he was just a baby! Baby's aren't evil. Idiots." While Delacour sneered murmuring

"It's nice to know he was always such a little brat" They glared at each other, but it didn't escalate as Bagman started reading again.

"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." Delacour seemed horrified.

" 'appily wrestling a screaming child into a chair?" Bagman ignored her and kept reading

"None of them noticed a large, tawny owl flutter past the window." Krum looked confused and asked

"Vhy did vey not notice the owl? Vould vey not be checking vor the post?" I turned towards him, confused, but then realized Durmstrang probably didn't teach their students about Muggles, given its reputation for Dark Magic, so I started explaining.

"Muggles don't use owls to send mail. They have a postman or woman who is paid to deliver the post and newspapers and such to people." Krum still looked confused but nodded so I turned back to Bagman. Taking that as a cue, he kept reading

"At half past eight, 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,' chortled Mr. Dursley-" Fleur interrupted, shouting

" Zey are encouraging zat 'orrible be'avior! Why, no wonder Potter is such a brat if 'e grew up with them!" I glared at her, but she didn't notice, telling Bagman

"I'm very sorry Monsieur Bagman, et is just zat boys be'avior is 'orrible and ze man called 'im a little tyke! You can continue zough." Bagman nodded, answering " It's quite alright Ms. Delacour, it is horrible behavior."

" 'Little tyke,' chortled Mr. Dursley as he left the house. He got into his car and backed out of number four's drive.

It was on the corner of the street that he noticed the first sign of something peculiar - a cat reading a map. 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 of been a trick of the light." I snorted.

"Trick of the light my arse. You come up with the strangest explanations to not believe in the strange. It was probably an animagus. Maybe Mcgonagall?"

"Language Mr. Potter. And it's Professor Mcgonagall to you." barked Crouch. Looking up I realized everyone had heard me, and I pushed down a blush. Diggory looked considering, then finally said

"I bet you a galleon that cat isn't Mcgonagall, Potter." I considered it before saying "We can't because there isn't any money with us." Diggory rolled his eyes and said

"Whoever lost would give their money to the other person after we get released." Raising an eyebrow, I asked

"Hufflepuffs don't use holders?" Seeing his confused look, I sighed and explained

" Gryffindors have gambling ring, though the highest you can bet is 10 galleons so it isn't illegal. The Weasley twins are the holders, cause they run the thing. That means whenever you bet something, they'll mark it down and you give them the amount you bet. If you win they'll contact you and give you the money you won. If no one wins they keep half the money and the other half goes back to you." Cedric seemed surprised but nodded in understanding.

"We don't do that because we don't really bet. The only annual bet I can think of is the Slytherin-Gryffindor Quidditch match. What types of bets do you guys do?" I smiled explaining

"Well right now we have one on when Ron and Hermione are going to get together, which champion will win, when the Weasley twins will-"

"Boys, as interesting as this is, how about you talk about it during a break or something." Bagman said sharply, while Crouch glowered at us, and the other two looked on curiously. I blushed and mumbled

"Sorry sir." Bagman nodded and continued reading, but not before I whispered

"I'll take the bet." He sent me a sharp look and read

"Mr. Dursley blinked and stared at the cat. It stared back. As Mr. Dursley drove around the corner and up the road, he watched the cat in his mirror. It was now reading the sign that said Privet Drive - no, looking, at the sign; cats couldn't read maps or signs. Mr. Dursley gave himself a little shake and put the cat out of his mind. As he drove toward town he thought of nothing except a large order of drills he was hoping to get that day." After the last sentence I could've sworn I heard someone say

"Single track mind that one," but when I looked around, everyone was focused on Bagman, so I put it out of my mind.

"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." Crouch interrupted furiously muttering

"Infraction! Infractions! Why are they on a muggle street, with wizard robes on!" After giving him some weird looks, Bagman started up again.

"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 those weirdos standing quite close by. They were whispering excitedly together. Mr. Dursley was enraged to see that a couple of them weren't young at all; why, that man had to be older than he was, and wearing an emerald-green cloak!

The muttering of infraction was becoming expected now, almost like background noise.

"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.

Mr. Dursley always sat with his back to the window in his office on the ninth floor. If he hadn't, he might of found it harder to concentrate on drills that morning. He didn't see the owls swooping past in broad daylight, -

"Infraction!" was said again, while I laughed "Good thing to, or else he wouldv'e had a heart attack." Crouch kept muttering

"Infraction! Infraction! Infraction!" Everyone was sending him concerned looks when there was a flash of white light and a light thump. When the light cleared there was a potions bottle and a note on the side table next to Bagman. He picked the note up and read out

"Hello Readers,

Mr. Crouch seems to be getting worked up so I supplied a calming potion. I also realized if one of you is getting this worked up about Chapter 1, it was probably a good idea to supply calming potions or just regular potions so whenever you need one, just ask for it like you would the food. I hope you're having fun!" Bagman picked up the bottle and handed it to Crouch saying

"Barty drink this. It will calm you done." Crouch gulped it down in between muttering

"Infraction!" After drinking he calmed down and when he realized we were all staring at him he embarrassedly grumbled

"Well? Are we getting on with the story or not?" Bagman nodded and began reading

"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." Crouch didn't start muttering

"Infraction" over and over, so Bagman took that as a sign to continue.

"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-"

"Potter, vhat are televone calls?" I was startled that Krum had asked me that, and not the Ministry Officials, but answered

"It's the Muggle version of a Floo. The difference is that you can't travel through it and when you call they only hear your voice. Oh, it's also a box shaped device you talk into, not a fireplace." I saw him nod in understanding, along with Delacour and Bagman took that as a sign to continue.

"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-" My head shot up to stare at Bagman and I asked him

"Could you repeat those last words please?" They all gave me odd looks, but Bagman complied, reading

"He was in a very good mood until lunchtime when he thought he'd stretch his legs and walk across the road-" I gasped

"I can't believe it! My uncle actually walked! Voluntarily!" The other champions sent questioning looks, while Crouch glowered, but Bagman continued before I could answer

" to buy himself a bun from the bakery." I slumped in relief and mumbled

"I should've known. He was getting a bun." Everyone ignored me.

"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 - ' " I sat up straight at the mention of my last name, then my first, while Bagman faltered. Everyone sent me a concerned glance but I didn't say anything, not wanting to talk about it. Bagman composed himself and everyone else realised I wasn't going to say anything. They focused back on Bagman and he started reading, but I still got concerned glances.

"Mr. Dursley stopped dead. 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. Potter wasn't such an unusual name."

Bagman hadn't started reading again so I looked up, realising that everyone was sitting in stunned silence. Diggory turned to me asking

"Potter, why aren't they aware that you're bloodline is the only family in, at least Britain if not the world because of how well known you are. All the other family's changed their names because they didn't want people mistaking them for your family." I stared at him confused before looking around the room to see all of them waiting for an answer before slowly replying

"Um, probably because even I didn't know that about my family, and he dislikes magic so he wouldn't want to learn that anyways. Do you know why they were so famous?" Diggory looked take aback before replying

"I only know the basics. But how about I tell you when we take a break. Also I'm pretty sure Mr. Crouch and Mr. Bagman would have some more information," looking at them he said "Right?"

They nodded their heads and conceded, but I was super excited about learning more about my family. Bagman and Crouch looked surprised but neither said anything until Krum asked if we Bagman was going to keep reading. Bagman started reading out

" 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."

Bagman frowned, asking

"They don't even know your name?" I nodded and he furrowed his brows. He and Crouch exchanged glances and before I could ask what the big deal was he started reading again.

" 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." Crouch growled, but Bagman ignored him.

"He didn't blame her — if he'd had a sister like that" "Lily was amazing! If anything she should be the one getting upset about how horrid her sister is." Bagman had interrupted himself and Crouch glared at the book so hard I thought it was going to burst into flames. Bagman shook himself and started reading over Crouch's mutters which I'm pretty sure we're murder plans for my aunt. Which was bad, very bad. He was already planning on murder and they hadn't even read more then a chapter!

". . . but all the same, those people in cloaks . . .
He found it a lot harder to concentrate on drills that afternoon and when he left the building at five o'clock, he was still so worried that he walked straight into someone just outside the door.
'Sorry,' he 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!"" I looked down at the confirmation that it was the day my parents died, hoping that Bagman wouldn't stop reading. No such luck, as I felt everyone's eyes on me. Someone patted my back, but I shrugged them off and mumbled

"Just keep reading please." Bagman complied with my request and kept reading

"And the old man hugged Mr. Dursley around the middle and walked off."

I raised my eyebrows in surprise, asking

"He got his arms all the way around my uncle?" Diggory smiled and remarked,

"Doesn't it sound like Professor Flitwick?" Delacour looked at us quizzically.

"Who is zis Professor you are talking about Potter, Diggory?" Diggory saved me from answering by saying

"The head of house of the table you're sitting at."

"Oh! Zat little man. I did not realize 'is arms were long enough to wrap around your uncle, Potter, seeing as 'e seems like a man with a wide girth."

I shrugged, about to answer, but Bagman continued before a could.

"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."

There were shouts of

"What!" coming from all of the room, though Diggory yelled

"He doesn't approve of imagination?!" Viktor turned to me, and while it was easy to see he was still incensed, he quietly asked me

"How are vou still alive Potter?", though everyone in the room heard him. I raised an eyebrow, before biting out,

"The Potter Luck. It gets me into horrible situations that should've killed me and then miraculously gets me out of them alive." I rolled my eyes, " Why are you even asking anyways? It's not like no imagination could kill me and I haven't been in a dangerous situation that should've killed me in these books yet so you have no reason to ask that."

Krum looked like he wanted to kill something, which was pretty scary and I looked at someone else for an explanation as to why he was angry, only to be met with a bunch of incredulous faces.

There was a gasp from Delacour and Crouch growled out

"Yes it can Potter. Your lack of knowledge astounds me. What are they teaching here!" I was taken aback and wondered how I could be killed by lack of imagination. Asking out loud garnered an answer, but it was from Bagman this time. He frowned, and said "Magic is part of a witch or wizard's life force, which is why you are born with it and no one can gain it. Magic strength is based on a lot of things, but one of them is your imagination, so having no imagination in the house would have severely weakened your magic and since you were so young it could of turned you in a squib. The fact you have such strong magic and could produce a corporeal patronus last year is amazing and makes me wonder how strong it would be if you hadn't grown up with them." I was amazed about that information but embarrassedly muttered

"When I started going to school I always hid in the library to avoid my cousin Dudley. Ms. Shannon, who was the librarian, was super nice and helped me find books to read. They were mainly fiction so I had plenty of imagination from imaging different stories. My favorite books, well technically series, were The Lord of the Rings and The Inheritance Cycle. There were a couple other good ones like Inkheart, Percy Jackson, or The Chronicles of Narnia series but those two were my favorites." Cedric looked at me in surprise, announcing

"I really liked those too!" He shrugged and added

"My favorite book was The Hobbit though." Bagman glanced between us, then the rest of the room. Delacour and Krum were having a discussion, while Crouch was muttering to himself. Clearing his throat, Bagman gained their attention, then began reading.

"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." Diggory shot up, almost shouting

"Damn! If that's is actually Mcgonagall, I'm surprised he's still alive!" Ignoring him, Bagman continued with
"The cat didn't move. It just gave him a stern look." Interrupting him, I smirked saying,

"Yes! That's definitely Mcgonagall!" while Diggory groaned, but voiced

"It's not for sure Potter." Crouch was glaring at us the whole time we were talking but Bagman just read over us.

"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!"). 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," 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…"

"Zat man ez just now 'having suspicions of magic?" Delacour shook her head " 'ow idiotic. I would understand if 'e did not know about magic, but 'e does!" I glanced at her warily, but she didn't say anything else. Turning back to Bagman, he started to read

"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." There were growls coming from Bagman and Crouch, while the rest of the room frowned, but no one said anything. Composing himself, Bagman kept reading.

""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."
Mrs. Dursley sipped her tea through pursed lips. Mr. Dursley wondered whether he dared tell her he'd heard the name "Potter." He decided he didn't dare. Instead he said, as casually as he could, "Their son - he'd be about Dudley's age now, wouldn't he?"
"I suppose so," said Mrs. Dursley stiffly.
"What's his name again? Howard, isn't it?"
"Harry. Nasty, common name, if you ask me."

"Oh, yes," said Mr. Dursley, his heart sinking horribly. "Yes, I quite agree."
He didn't say another word on the subject as they went upstairs to bed. 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." Diggory huffed out

"As long as they don't show up on the middle of the night like a crazy people, everyone on that street would think they were an amazing couple." Glaring at nothing, Diggory motioned for Bagman to start up again.

"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 Potters were involved, there was no reason for them to come near him and Mrs. Dursley. The Potters knew very well what he and Petunia thought about them and their kind... He couldn't see how he and Petunia could get mixed up in anything that might be going on — he yawned and turned over — it couldn't affect them . . ." Viktor raised an eyebrow.

"Vat is like asking vor it, vou stupid idiot."

How very wrong he was. Mr. Dursley might have been drifting into an uneasy sleep, but the cat on the wall outside was showing no sign of sleepiness. It was sitting as still as a statue, its eyes fixed unblinkingly on the far corner of Privet Drive. It didn't so much as quiver when a car door slammed 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.
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."

"That is definitely Dumble-, I mean Professor Dumbledore. He's the only one with a beard that long and the only one who would tuck it in his belt." I said and rolled my eyes. Diggory and Crouch made sounds of agreement, but we were read over by Bagman.

"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." I smirked, but resisted the urge to say something.
"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." I snorted and wasn't able to resist.

"Oh I bet he did, he just didn't care. That's the type of man Professor Dumbledore is. He would do something even if he knew it would annoy someone. In fact, he would probably do it one purpose, then twinkle his eyes at you and say 'Whatever are you talking about, my dear boy?'" Diggory snorted and surprisingly, so did Crouch, while Bagman had stopped reading and was nodding his head in agreement. Delacour and Krum were looking at us in confusion, which made Bagman realize he should be reading.

"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.""

"See! More proof it's Mcgonagall. Do you really think that Professor Dumbledore would do that to any old cat?" I exclaimed. Diggory looked down and muttered

"Bollocks". Confused, Delacour looked between us, before asking

"Why are you ztill going on about zis bet, boys? Et, es not like et es worth anything since we are still stuck in zis odd room." We glanced at each other, but didn't answer right away so Bagman took that as his chance to start reading again.
"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."

"Wow! In France, we do not 'ave magic trinkets like zat. 'ow es et made?" Delacour looked excited, and I was curious too. Turning to Bagman and Crouch, I was surprised to see him looking bitter. He answered

"I don't know. It's one of Dumbledore's inventions and he has not deigned to explain it to us lowly mortals." It was a very bitter sentence and Bagman added

"Yes, he says it is because he does not wish for the unsavoury characters to have an advantage but it is obvious he just does not want to share it with the Ministry or the public." Bagman shook himself and started reading again.

"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." I snorted. "True, but everyone would be curious about why all the streetlights were out, and, how can Professor Dumbledore see anything?" I was ignored and beginning to see that this was probably going to be a pattern, Because even though I had thought they were warming up to me it was obvious that they hadn't.

"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." There was a long drawn out "Noooooooooo" from Diggory, while I smirked and whispered

"Yes! I won our bet!" We were ignored and I guess that means I'm not the only person being ignored now, which is good.
"He turned to smile at the tabby, but it had gone. Instead he was smiling at a rather severe-looking woman who was wearing square glasses exactly the shape of the markings the cat had had around its eyes. She, too, was wearing a cloak, an emerald one. Her black hair was drawn into a tight bun. She looked distinctly ruffled.
"How did you know it was me?" she asked.
"My dear Professor, I 've never seen a cat sit so stiffly."
"You'd be stiff if you'd been sitting on a brick wall all day," said
Professor McGonagall.
"All day? When you could have been celebrating? I must have passed a dozen feasts and parties on my way here." I looked up in shock.

"People were celebrating? I know that they were all happy that the war ended, but did anyone think about what happened to me since they all seemed to be shouting out how I was the Boy-Who-Lived? Why Voldemort was dead? Anything?" There were the customary flinches when I said Voldemort's name and then Crouch, Bagman, and Diggory looked very uncomfortable while Delacour and Krum looked shocked and faintly awkward. When no answer was forthcoming I looked down and thought 'I knew wizards and witches were rude and didn't really think about anyone but themselves, after all they forced me to go to the Halloween Party instead of letting me mourn in peace, but really? You know what, I should've expected it. Bloody wizards.' Bagman had started up again, still looking faintly ashamed.
"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."
"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."" I snorted, even though I was still angry commenting

"Magicals don't dress as Muggles even when they try, because the clothes they do are super mish mashed or out of style so they stick out even more than they would in robes. Or" I added "they're dressed in Muggles clothes meant for the other gender," thinking about the man I had seen at the Quidditch World Cup that was in a women's night dress. Diggory, Delacour, and Krum looked faintly amused while Crouch and Bagman looked offended. Bagman opened his mouth, glanced at Crouch, then shut it, before starting to read again. Apparently he thought it would be better to cut Crouch off the rant he looked like he was about to start instead of lecturing me.
"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:-" Bagman stopped suddenly, paling. Before saying

"Vol-, Volde-. Oh, I don't think I can say it!" He tried one more time

"... Voldemort."" Bagman was pale and I winced. If this book was a story about my life, then he was going to be saying Voldemort a lot. But, it would be good for people to not be so scared of it anymore, even if it was only the people in this room. 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"

"Ugh! I've already said it once, do I have to say it again?" Crouch looked on in, was that sympathy? Before suggesting " "Maybe you can skip the name or say V or something to represent his name, that way you don't have to say it." I wanted to protest, but I knew I would be outvoted. Bagman considered before nodding, saying "Great idea Barty! I'll say V, like you suggested." Before he could start reading, there was a flash of light and another note appeared. I wondered what Lady Hogwarts needed to tell us, before realizing that Delacour had grabbed the note and was about to reading it

"Dear Readers,

I understand zat you do not wish to say ze Dark Lord's name, but you are required to read all of ze book and cannot skip any of it. So, to make sure you comply, I have made zure you will not ve able to skip anyzing."

"Really" complained Bagman "Fine." "Volde", "Voldemo" "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."
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.
"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." Bagman stopped reading and bowed his head. We had a moment of silence for my parents which I was grateful for, even though everyone had forgotten them on the day they had died.
"Dumbledore bowed his head. 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."

I leaned back in my chair, hoping that there wouldn't be much more of Voldemort's name in this chapter, and they would get used to saying it and hearing it because all the stuttering and flinching was getting annoying.
"It's - it's true?" faltered Professor McGonagall. "After all he's done... all the people he's killed... he couldn't kill a little boy? It's just astounding... of all the things to stop him... but how in the name of heaven did Harry survive?"
"We can only guess," said Dumbledore. "We may never know."
Professor McGonagall pulled out a lace handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes beneath her spectacles. Dumbledore gave a great sniff as he took a golden watch from his pocket and examined it. It was a very odd watch. It had twelve hands but no numbers; instead, little planets were moving around the edge." Krum looked confused and asked

"Do vou Englivsh people not use those? Vhat vould vou use instead of those?" I answered before anyone else could.

"I don't know about Magical Britain but Muggles don't use those types of watches. I wouldn't know how to either." Crouch added

"We do use them, but usually only higher officials. Most people use the common clocks Muggles use as they are cheaper than the Wizarding ones." After Krum had nodded in understanding, Bagman started up again.

"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!"" I was surprised, but glad that Professor Mcgonagall had tried to stop me from living with the Dursleys even if she had ultimately failed. I didn't say anything though, as with my current reputation because of the Triwizard Tournament I didn't think it would be well received by anyone.
"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? Ez 'e not going to explain to ze family why zey have to take Potter in, in person?" Delacour looked at me and I glanced away.

"Well boy?" Crouched growled. "Are you going to answer?" I mumbled

"I was left on the doorstep, sir."
"Speak louder Potter, I can't hear you."

"You'll probably find out, and if you don't I'll tell you." Crouch did not look happy with that answer, but Bagman had already started reading, so he couldn't complain.
""A letter?" repeated Professor McGonagall faintly, sitting back down on the wall. "Really, Dumbledore, you think you can explain all this in a letter? These people will never understand him! He'll be famous - a legend - I wouldn't be surprised if today was known as Harry Potter day in the future - there will be books written about Harry - every child in our world will know his name!""

I was horrified and immediately asked

"There's not one is there?" Diggory looked at me weirdly, asking

"One what?"

"A Harry Potter day. That would be horrible." Krum gave me a look of sympathy, obviously knowing the horror of being famous, since he was the star seeker for the Bulgarian team. Oblivious to my pain, Bagman cheerfully answered

"There is not my dear boy, though there was paperwork for it. I believe that was lost on bring your child to work day when the Weasley Twins were there." I heaved a sigh of relief, and made a mental note to thank the Weasley Twins at some point for that. Bagman had started reading, after he had answered, which I was thankful for, because, for some reason everyone looked really angry with me.

""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."

"Zat would be dezgusting! I 'ope zat is not ze case" said Delacour, looking horrified.

"If you had let me finish reading Ms. Delacour, you would find out that it isn't" replied Bagman, before he started reading
"Hagrid's bringing him."
"You think it — wise — to trust Hagrid with something as important as this?"

"Professor McGonagall! Hagrid's great!" I exclaimed, and everyone gave me weird looks before Diggory replied

"But you can't say he's not careless Potter, for goodness sakes, he was the one who supplied that Cerberus in the Forbidden Corridor during your First Year." I grunted not knowing what to say to that before we were interrupted by a shout of

"A Cerberus! In the school!" We both turned to look at Crouch oddly, and I could see out of the corner of my eye that Krum was staring at us in horror, and I bet Delacour was doing the same thing. Diggory and I were confused, with me replying

"Ya, how is this a surprise to you? Dumbledore said at the beginning of the year that he had full permission from the Ministry to use those sort of things to protect it because it was guarding an artifact of great value." Crouch , with a rapidly darkening face replied,

"I had no knowledge of such a thing and even though it's not my department most of the other Department Heads talk about all the things they have to oversee." Diggory and I exchanged glances, at a loss for words. Seeing that we were as confused as them, Krum suggested

"Maybe we should just read for now and vou can get more invormation from Diggory and Potter later." Bagman nodded and started reading.
"I would trust Hagrid with my life," said Dumbledore.
"I'm not saying his heart isn't in the right place," said Professor McGonagall grudgingly, "but you can't pretend he's not careless.
He does tend to — what was that?"
A low rumbling sound had broken the silence around them. It
grew steadily louder as they looked up and down the street for some sign of a headlight; it swelled to a roar as they both looked up at the sky — and a huge motorcycle fell out of the air and landed on the road in front of them.
If the motorcycle was huge, it was nothing to the man sitting astride it. He was almost twice as tall as a normal man and at least five times as wide. He looked simply too big to be allowed, and so wild - long tangles of bushy black hair and beard hid most of his face, he had hands the size of trash can lids, and his feet in their leather boots were like baby dolphins. In his vast, muscular arms he was holding a bundle of blankets.
"Hagrid," said Dumbledore, sounding relieved. "At last. And where did you get that motorcycle?"
"Borrowed it, Professor Dumbledore, sir," said the giant, climbing carefully off the motorcycle as he spoke. "Young Sirius Black lent it to me. I've got him, sir."

"WHAT!" I couldn't tell who had shouted, but it had sounded like multiple people. Crouch solved my dilemma by saying

"I was going to ignore the fact that Hagrid had a flying motorcycle, but did it just say that Hagrid got it from Sirius Black!" There was confirmation from everyone in the room and Crouch was fuming.

"When we get out of here there is going to be some serious investigating going on." Bagman nodded, which confused me as I'm pretty sure neither of them have any authority over that. I didn't voice my thought though and Bagman continued.
"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."
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 that where -?" whispered Professor McGonagall.
"Yes," said Dumbledore. "He'll have that scar forever."
"Couldn't you do something about it, Dumbledore?"

I glared at the wall, sneering to myself

"I wish he had been able to, the thing is a bloody pain in the arse." I sat up quickly but nobody seemed to of heard me which I was thankful for. Just as I was about to cheer inwardly for not being heard muttering, I caught Krum staring at me with a incomprehensible expression.
"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.
"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 doorstep, took a letter out of his cloak, tucked it inside Harry's blankets, and then came back to the other two. For a full minute the three of them stood and looked at the little bundle; Hagrid's shoulders shook, Professor McGonagall blinked furiously, and the twinkling light that usually shone from Dumbledore's eyes seemed to have gone out.
"Well," said Dumbledore finally, "that's that. We've no business staying here. We may as well go and join the celebrations.""

Krum inturrupted asking

"Vait a vinute. Voes he mean to leave vou on the porch in the middle of the night? Vuring Autunm ven it es chilly? And wivout a proper explanation to vat family besides a vetter?"

"It seems so Mr. Krum. Dumbledore will have a lot to answer about this, as well as Hagrid and Professor McGonagall. Of all things, doing this to a child." growled out Crouch, "Ludo continue reading."
"Yeah," said Hagrid in a very muffled voice, "I'll be takin' Sirius his bike back. G'night, Professor McGonagall - Professor Dumbledore, sir."
Wiping his streaming eyes on his jacket sleeve, Hagrid swung himself onto the motorcycle and kicked the engine into life; with a roar it rose into the air and off into the night.
"I shall see you soon, I expect, Professor McGonagall," said Dumbledore, nodding to her. Professor McGonagall blew her nose in reply.
Dumbledore turned and walked back down the street. On the corner he stopped and took out the silver Put-Outer. He clicked it once, and twelve balls of light sped back to their street lamps so that Privet Drive glowed suddenly orange and he could make out a tabby cat slinking around the corner at the other end of the street. He could just see the bundle of blankets on the step of number four.
"Good luck, Harry," he murmured. He turned on his heel and with a swish of his cloak, he was gone.

"So he did leave you on the porch step. I was half hoping that it wouldn't happen but I should've known it was a fool's hope," said Bagman, the he continued reading.
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!"

_Linebreak_

The Great Hall was deathly silent as they heard Bagman say those last few words of the first chapter. As soon as he was done, they exploded into chaos, or at least tried to, but they couldn't because of the Silencing Charm on them. At first, people thought no one could talk before Madam Bones started using her impressive set of lungs to yell at Albus Dumbledore.

"ALBUS DUMBLEDORE!" Before continuing in a deathly quiet voice that radiated danger, " Are you telling me that you left Lily and James' fifteen month old son on a porch in October, with only a note to explain to Lily's sister why she had to take care of her nephew and how her sister and her husband were dead!" She took a deep breath to calm herself but before she could say more she was interrupted by the Potter Accounts Manager

"Yes, Mr. Dumbledore. I would also like to know why I was lied to, seeing as you told me that you were Heir Potter's Magical Guardian appointed by the Ministry and he was being raised in a private home by your brother, with the proper amount of tutors so he would ready to take over his responsibilities. You definitely did not say he was being taken care of by Muggles, that seem to despise magic. It is also very obvious that he was not trained as you said he was because he didn't even know his family was famous." Dumbledore raised his hands in a universal peace gesture, than motioned towards his mouth to show he was still silenced. Realising that they wouldn't get answers, Madam Bones and the goblin both sat down before waiting patiently for the screen to start again.

Author's Note- Again everyone, thanks for all the reviews. It would be great if any of you could give me tips for making sure none of them are too OCC, that Viktor's and Fleur's accents aren't to bad, and just tips on how to make the story smoother that would great. Thanks for reading!