The Golden Trio, Marauders, and Lily Read Philosopher's Stone

I am doing this with the permission of Elspeth25, who is doing a fic in which the Marauders read the Harry Potter series. You should check them out, they rock!

I am trying to think of a better title, so if you have on, let me know.

Here is my plotline:

Harry, Ron, and Hermione read The Marauders and Lily read Harry Potter, so if that is confusing, basically while James, Sirius, Remus, Peter, and Lily read the books, Harry and co. are reading about them reading the books.

Anyway, all current time (Harry and co.'s) dialogue will be in italics. JK Rowling's original text is in bold, and Elspeth25's text (the Marauders') is in normal style.

By the way, my birthday is in 20 days!!! I'll be 16!!

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or the Marauders and Lily Read Harry Potter series.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione were in the Gryffindor common room. It was the Christmas holidays. Everyone else had gone home.

Harry and Ron were sitting in the comfortable armchairs chatting amiably about Quidditch. Hermione, of course, was working on her Arithmancy homework. Scattered books covered the desk, and complicated number charts were being pored over.

"I can't believe it, you two. We have so much homework to do, you should be working," said Hermione, irritated.

"Come on Hermione, it's the second day of break. We have two more weeks to-"

But whatever Harry was going to say, he never finished his sentence because at that moment, Hermione gasped and jumped out of her seat, running over to them with a book in her hands. It was titled: Marauders and Lily Read Philosopher's Stone.

"The Marauders?And my mum?" he asked.

"I don't know. It was on the desk, and I didn't notice it until just now. Look, there is a note."

And she read to them: Dear Miss Granger, I am giving this book to you, Harry, and Ron to read. It has been most generously given to me by Elspeth25, but I need to give it back soon, so hurry up. Thank you, from Sparkling-stone.

"What?" asked Hermione. "Who is Elspeth25? Sparkling-stone?"

Harry had taken the book from Hermione, but gave it back to her at this moment. How 'bout you read it first?"

"All right. Thanks, Harry. I enjoy reading."

"We know," said Harry and Ron at once. They looked at each other and grinned.

"Here goes," said Hermione.

Disclaimer for entire fic: I do not own Harry Potter.

"Obviously! No one owns me! I am my own person!" said Harry, standing up in outrage.

"We are perfectly aware of that, Harry. Now will you please let me read?"

"Sorry."

Chapter One

It was the first day of Christmas break.

"Like us!" said Ron.

Hermione glared at him and he shrank back.

The Gryffindor common room was empty except for four boys in their sixth year, who were playing Exploding Snap and discussing future pranks to play. They were James Potter, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, and Peter Pettigrew.

"What?" asked all three students at once.

James and Sirius were staying at Hogwarts for Christmas because James' parents were visiting some relatives that James and Sirius didn't want to see. Remus and Peter ended up staying with them to keep them company.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione glared at the book at the mention of Peter.

Just then, a pretty red-haired girl named Lily Evans-

"Your Mum, Harry!" said Ron.

"I am perfectly aware of that, thanks, Ron."

"You're welcome.

walked down the stairs from her dorm room. She stopped when she saw the four boys. "Just my luck," she groaned. "The Marauders are staying here for the Christmas holidays, too."

At an answer to a questioning look from Ron and Hermione, Harry said, "The didn't get on until seventh year."

"Evans!' called James. "Why are you here? I though you went back home for the holidays."

"I was going to," replied Lily, "but my parents are going on a ski trip, which I'm not interested in. And my sister invited her horrid boyfriend to come along and I don't want to be around them."

Harry looked daggers at the book at a mention of his aunt and uncle.

Just then, a book appeared in thin air and dropped down, hitting Peter on the shoulder. "Ow!" he cried, rubbing his shoulder.

"What?"

Sirius picked up and read the title." Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone by J.K. Rowling. Any relation to you, Prongs?"

"Hey! Who wrote a book about me? Who's J. K Rowling?"

The others looked as puzzled as him.

"We'll just have to find out then. Keep reading Hermione."

"Nope, Padfoot," answered James. "The closest is a cousin of my mum's named Harvey." He leaned over to look at the cover and Lily joined the boys.

"Isn't that Platform Nine-and-Three-Quarters?" asked Peter. "And that looks like the Hogwarts Express."

"Well spotted," said Sirius, somewhat sarcastically. "That boy looks sort of like you, James. Messy black hair, glasses, etc."

"Of course. Harry is James's son," said Hermione at once, as if this were the most obvious thing in the world.

Harry looked curiously at her; she was acting like Professor McGonagall.

Lily took the book and read the summary on the back out loud. "Harry Potter thinks he is an ordinary boy - until he is rescued by a beetle-eyed giant of a man,

"Hagrid!" exclaimed Harry.

"Will you just let Hermione get on with it?"

"Thank you, Mr Weasley."

Ron sputtered in indignation. "Don't you dare call me Mr Weasley! I think I'm going to go and check if McGonagall died. Maybe her soul's occupied you or something."

Harry sniggered.

Hermione glared at both of them.

enrolls at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, learns to play Quidditch and does battle in a deadly duel. The Reason: HARRY POTTER IS A WIZARD!"

"Obviously."

Remus frowned thoughtfully. "Weird, a book appearing like that. And who is this Harry Potter?"

"Me!"

He took the book from Lily and looked at the copyright page. "Hey, this book was copyrighted in 1997! That means it's from the future!"

"I thought we knew that?" asked Ron, rather impatiently.

"Could Harry Potter be your future son, James?" asked Peter, earning stares from the others.

"Mm hmm"

"But they don't know that, Harry." Said Hermione patiently.

"True."

"Well, son or not, this book sounds interesting," said Remus. "Why don't we take turns reading it? I'll go first." He turned to the first chapter and began reading.

CHAPTER ONE
THE BOY WHO LIVED

Mr. and Mrs. Dursley...

Harry glared.

"That name sounds familiar," muttered Lily. "Where have I heard the name Dursley before?

"Aunt Petunia's obviously not married yet," said Harry, a bit sourly.

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

"How are they supposed to be normal?" asked Harry incredulously.

"Sound like Muggles to me," said Sirius.

"Who cares!' snapped Remus. "Will you shut up so I can keep reading?"

"Thank you, Professor Lupin," said Professor McGonagall.

"Um, Hermione, it's a book. They can't hear you."

"I am perfectly aware of that, Mr Weasley. Now please let me continue."

"DON'T CALL ME MR WEASLEY!"

They were the last people you'd expect to be involved in anything strange or mysterious, because they just didn't hold with such nonsense.

Mr. Dursley was the director of a firm called Grunnings...

"He's still in the business. Can't believe they didn't fire him yet. But as a matter of fact, I'm surprised that he could even fit in his office chair."

Ron sniggered.

"Grunnings? What kind of a name is that?"

"Sirius, if you don't stop interrupting me, I'll hit you!" threatened Remus.

..., which made drills.

"What are drills?" asked Sirius.

Lily gave him a look. "Honestly, Black, you took Muggle Studies. You should know."

"I only took it to annoy my family. I didn't really pay much attention in the class and dropped it this year."

"You should always be committed with the subjects you take, Sirius," said Hermione.

"See, she's doing it again. Do you think she's losing it?" Ron whispered to Harry.

"I heard that."

"Well anyway, you dropped Divination and Muggle Studies in third year. You call that being committed?" asked Harry.

"Will you two stop insulting me so that I can read!?!"

"Sorry."

Lily sighed loudly. "Drills are a muggle tool used to make holes with. For fixing things or hanging things up."

He was a big, beefy man with hardly any neck, although he did have a very large moustache. Mrs. Dursley was thin and blonde and had nearly twice the usual amount of neck, which came in very useful as she spent much of her time craning over garden fences, spying on the neighbours. The Dursley's had a small son called Dudley...

Harry glared, yet again, at the book.

Everyone laughed and James asked, "Who names their kid Dudley?"

"True."

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

"Hey!" yelled James. "There's nothing wrong with us Potters!"

"Yeah, we rock!"

Mrs. Potter was Mrs. Dursley's sister,

"WHAT!" James yelled. "I'm related to this woman!"

"Now I remember where I've heard the name Dursley before!" exclaimed Lily." That's the last name of my sister's boyfriend!"

"Excuse me?" sputtered James. "Your sister's boyfriend?"

Lily nodded and Sirius pointed out, "Prongs, that would also mean that you're married to Evans here."

"I am?" asked James. "WHOO-HOO!" Lily groaned at the idea of being married to James.

"Well, she liked him in the end. It just took her a while."

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...

"Is that a word?" asked Peter.

"It's not."

"We knew that, Hermione."

"It is now," answered Remus.

"I guess."

...as it was possible to be.

"And I'm proud of not being Dursleyish."

"That's not a word Harry."

"Well it is now. Remus said so," said Ron.

"It isn't."

"Is."

"Isn't."

"Is."

"Isn't."

"Is."

"Isn't."

"Is."

"Isn't."

"WILL YOU TWO STOP ACTING LIKE AN OLD MARRIED COUPLE?!?" shouted Harry.

This had the desired effect.

The Dursleys shuddered to think what the neighbours 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.

"Hey!" exclaimed Lily. "There's nothing wrong with my son! Even if Potter is the father!"

"Yeah!" seconded James. "Hey, what do you mean 'even if Potter is the father,' Evans?"

"Uh, nothing," answered Lily. "Remus, just keep reading."

When Mr. and Mrs. Dursley woke up on the dull, grey Tuesday our story starts, there was nothing about the cloudy sky outside to suggest that strange and mysterious things would soon be happening all over the country. Mr. Dursley hummed as he picked out his most boring tie for work and Mrs. Dursley gossiped away happily as she wrestled a screaming Dudley into his high chair.

"Brat" they all said.

"Brat" said all five of them simultaneously

"Hey," said Ron. "They stole our words!"

None of them noticed a large tawny owl flutter past the window.

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

"I wish I could have seen that. I obviously wasn't there yet."

"He is definitely a spoiled brat," said Sirius. "Even Regulus was never like that, and my 'dear old mum' spoiled him because he was the perfect son and much better supposedly than me."

They glowered at the book, or rather, Sirius's mum, for saying that one of her children was better than the other.

"Little tyke," chortled Mr. Dursley as he left the house.

"Dudley is anything but little, you git."

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.

"Think it's McGonagall?" asked Ron. "After all, she is an animagus, and she's a cat."

"Maybe…" said Hermione thoughtfully.

Remus frowned at the book. "An animagus do you think?"

"Possibly," replied James and Sirius.

Peter looked puzzled. "Why would there be an animagus in this book? Could it be one of-"

"Shut up!" interrupted Sirius, glancing at Lily. "And when was the last time anyone of us could turn into cats?"

"So she doesn't know about them being animagi," said Harry.

Lily was looking suspiciously at Sirius. "Does this have anything to do with Remus being a werewolf, Black?"

"I didn't know she knew."

"Nor did I"

"I didn't either."

The Marauders turned and stared at her in shock. "How do you know?" demanded James. "Only the four of us know, Evans."

"Apparently they didn't know she knew, either."

Lily sighed. "Well, Remus is always absent once a month. And his excuses started wearing a bit thin. Then I did some checking on the lunar chart and realized he was always absent during a full moon. I did some reading on werewolves and came to the conclusion he was one. Don't worry, I haven't told anyone. I mean, Remus is nice, unlike you and Black, Potter, and if Professor Dumbledore is letting him attend Hogwarts, I'm sure everything is under control. Now, explain that animagus remark."

"That was a rather long explanation," said Harry.

"I noticed. Now LET ME READ!"

"Okay, okay, calm down Hermione."

James gave Peter a look, then answered Lily's question. "Okay, Sirius, Peter, and I are animagi. We've been helping Remus during his transformations ever since last year. I was reading up on werewolves and found out that animals, and therefore animagi, aren't bothered by them. So I become a stag, Sirius a dog, and Peter a rat, and we help distract Remus when he's transformed. But you can't tell anyone. McGonagall wouldn't be happy, to say the least, and we'd get in loads of trouble since we're unregistered."

"I wonder how they did it," said Hermione thoughtfully. "I've never seen in a book how you do it."

"Coming from Hermione, that's a first," Harry told Ron, grinning.

"Don't worry, James," assured Lily. "I won't tell anyone. I've never told anyone that Remus was a werewolf. Except for you guys, but you already know." Remus picked up the book again and continued reading.

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

"Because she hid it, you idiot!" Ron yelled at the book.

"Ron, calm down," said Harry, holding on to the back of his robes.

"These Muggles are stupid," remarked Sirius. "Not even Peter is this dumb!"

"He was dumb enough to join Voldemort" said Harry coldly.

"Hey!" protested Peter.
James thought of something. "McGonagall can turn into a cat, can't she?"
"Yeah, she can," responded Sirius. "So you were paying attention when she was telling us?"

"Finally getting there, aren't they?"

"That was the lesson on animagi," pointed out James. "We were planning to become animagi. McGonagall did tell us a few things that became very useful for us."

"True."

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.

"If they're an animagus they can." Ron pointed out.

Mr. Dursley gave himself a little shake and put the cat out of his mind. As he drove towards town, he thought of nothing except a large order of drills he was hoping to get that day.

"Wait!" Sirius exclaimed. "You mean people really buy those drill thingies you make holes with?"

"Apparently, they do."

"How else would Muggles get them?" Peter asked sarcastically.
"If you're done here, may I continue reading?" asked Remus. The others nodded.

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 get-ups you saw on young people!"

"They're just wizards, you idiot!" said Harry.

"There's nothing funny about cloaks! Is there?" asked Peter, looking uncertain.
"Well, to Muggles it's funny," replied Lily. "Muggles don't usually wear cloaks. Well, they did in the olden days, but not now."
"Then they must be wizards!" exclaimed Peter. Everyone gave him looks for stating the obvious.

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 weirdoes 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!

"Obviously wizards," said Ron confidently.

""We already knew that Ron, not can I please read?"

"Right, yeah."

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.

"Sorry to break it to ya Uncle Vernon, but I don't think so."

"Wanna bet?" muttered Sirius.
The others hid smiles.

The traffic moved on, and a few minutes later, Mr. Dursley arrived in the Grunnings car park, 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 have found it harder to concentrate on drills that morning.

"What's so bad about the window?"

"If you'd let me read, maybe we'd find out?!?" said Hermione sarcastically.

He didn't see the owls swooping past in broad daylight, though the people down in the street did; they pointed and gazed open-mouthed as owl after owl sped overhead.

"It's just owl post," said Ron, confused.

"But muggles don't have owl post, Ron. Remember?" said Hermione, with forced patience.

"Oh, right"

Harry sniggered. They sounded just like a married couple.

"Sound just like owl post to me," commented Peter.

"He really is stupid. I thought Sirius was exaggerating," said Harry. "Though, I suppose if he was stupid enough to join Voldemort, he must be really stupid."

Ron flinched.

"Ron, when are you going to get used to the word Voldemort?!? Me and Hermione, say it. Why can't you?"

Ron turned red.

"Duh!" exclaimed Sirius sarcastically.
"Peter, you don't need to go around stating the obvious," pointed out Lily, looking slightly exasperated.

Most of them had never seen an owl even at night time. Mr. Dursley, however, had a perfectly normal, owl-free morning. He yelled a five different people. He made several important telephone calls and shouted a bit more.

"Likes to yell, does he?" Ron asked sarcastically.

"Yep." Harry stated. "Mostly he yells at me."

He was in a very good mood until lunch-time, when he thought he'd stretch his legs and walk across the road to buy himself a bun from the baker's opposite.

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 lot 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 - "

"Hey, you don't think this is the night…" Ron left the sentence unfinished.

"Maybe"

"Why are they talking about my son?" demanded James. "And what do Lily and I have to do with this?"

"You've stopped calling me Evans!" exclaimed Lily.

"Well, yeah. We're married in this book and I can't very well call my wife by her surname."

"Well then, if they were married, she wouldn't be called Evans anyway because she would be a Potter."

"Ron, what was the point of that statement?"

"I don't know. Just felt like saying it."

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 moustache, thinking...

"So he can think!" said Ron triumphantly! "And here I was all he was capable of was acting like a troll and pointing and grunting!"

Harry and Hermione laughed.

No, he was being stupid. Potter wasn't such an unusual name.

"That's true," said Lily. "There was a Muggle children's author whose last name was Potter. Beatrix Potter. Mum read me her books when was little. My favorites were The Tale of Peter Rabbit and the Tale of Mrs. Tiggy-Winkle."

"Didn't follow that" said Ron.

"Well, you don't follow much, do you?" Hermione asked.

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

"MY NAME IS HARRY, THANK YOU VERY MUCH!" Then after a minute, "You know, let's try not to interrupt too much. I don't think I can stand much more of reading about them."

"That was the best idea you've had in a while, Harry" said Hermione sourly.

There was no point in worrying Mrs. Dursley; she always got so upset at any mention of her sister. He didn't blame her - if he'd had a sister like that... but all the same, those people in cloaks...

He found it a lot harder to concentrate on drills that afternoon,-

"Why would you want to in the first place?" asked Ron incredulously.

"Ron?"

"What?"

"Shut up."

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.

"Bet that was hard," said Remus. "Apologizing."

Harry and Ron sniggered.

The others nodded in agreement.

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 sounds sort of like Flitwick!" exclaimed Sirius. "He's tiny and old, and has a squeaky voice!"

"Maybe," said Remus. "Now please be quiet so I can finish reading, Sirius."

that made passers-by 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 your self should be celebrating this happy, happy day!"

"Definitely the night you fought You-Know-Who."

"I didn't fight him, Ron. I just sat there. Any way, I disagree with Sirius about it being Flitwick. He's much smarter than that."

"Of course he's smarter than that!" screeched Hermione, looking terrified that a professor could be that stupid.

"Well of course, Hermione thinks all teachers are saints" pointed out Ron.

Hermione blushed and chose to keep on reading.

"What!" screeched Lily. "Voldemort's gone?" Peter flinched.

"Must be," replied Remus, frowning. "How did he disappear?"

"Maybe I killed him," suggested James.

"Don't think so, Prongs," said Sirius. "The book seems to be about your son. It's more likely that he had something to do with Voldemort missing." Peter and Lily flinched.

So did Ron.

James turned to Lily. "Lily, why is that you're not afraid to say the name, but flinch whenever someone else does?"

"That's weird."

"I don't know!" returned Lily. "It's just habit, I guess."

"Guess so."

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

"This is rather funny to watch, er, I mean, read!" said Ron. "But where does Harry come in? Because that means I come in soon, and I like reading about myself."

"Like hearing the sound of your own voice, Ron?" Hermione asked innocently.

"Shut up"

He was rattled. He hurried to his car and set off home, hoping he was imagining things, which he had never hoped before, because he didn't approve of imagination.

"He always got mad at me if I showed the slightest bit of imagination. It got rather annoying."

As he pulled into the driveway at 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.

"Like glasses? 'Cause then that's McGonagall."

"We know that Ron, said Hermione wearily.

"Shoo!" said Mr. Dursley loudly.

"She's not going to like that."

"Like that's going to do anything!" muttered Sirius.

The cat didn't move. It just gave him a stern look.

"Sounds like McGonagall," commented James.

"How much do you want to bet?" asked Sirius.

James thought for a moment. "Five galleons,' he said finally.

"He's going to win."

Remus shook his head and continued reading.

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 learnt a new word (Shan't).

"How wonderful! Such a great day" said Ron sarcastically.

"What a wonderful day!" Sirius said sarcastically.

Ron looked at the book, frowned, then shook his head.

Mr. Dursley tried to act normally. When Dudley had been put to bed, he went into the living-room in time to catch the last report on the evening news:

"And finally, bird-watchers everywhere have reported that the nation's owls have been behaving very unusually today. Although owls normally hunt at night and are hardly ever seen in daylight, there have been hundreds of sightings of these birds flying in every direction since sunrise. Experts are unable to explain why the owls have suddenly changed their sleeping pattern." The news reader 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?"

"That was a bad joke."

"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 that I promised yesterday, they've had a downpour of shooting stars!

"Huh?"

"Wow!" exclaimed James. "We could try that!"

"That sounds like a great idea!" seconded Sirius. "We can do it once school starts again."

Lily looked disproving and Remus shook his head before continuing reading.

Perhaps people have been celebrating Bonfire Night early

"No, just the downfall of Voldemort!" exclaimed Sirius. "A bit better than Bonfire Night!"

"Just a bit." Agreed Harry.

"Why are you talking to the book?" asked Remus. Sirius shrugged in reply.

- 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 the place? And a whisper, a whisper about the Potters...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?"

"That's the name of my sister!" yelled Lily. "Petunia! She hated it when I got my Hogwarts letter and became mean to me after."

"That's not nice. Magic rocks!"

As he expected, Mrs. Dursley looked shocked and angry. After all, they normally pretended she didn't have a sister.
"No," she said sharply. "Why?"
"Funny stuff on the news," Mr. Dursley mumbled. "Owls... shooting stars... and there were a lot of funny-looking people in town today..."
"So?" snapped Mrs. Dursley.
"Well, I just thought... maybe ... it was something to do with ... you know ... her lot."

"They're called wizards and witches, you scumbag!" said Ron angrily.

Mrs. Dursley sipped her tea through pursed lips. Mr. Dursley wondered whether he dared tell her he'd heard the name 'Potter'.

"What's so wrong with my name?"

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."

"My name is NOT NASTILY COMMON!"

"Calm down Harry."

"Hey! Harry's a perfectly nice name!" yelled Lily. "I like it and always wanted to name my son that, if I ever had one. And it looks like I did."

"Glad my mum agrees with 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 was waiting for something.
Was he imagining things?

"NO!" they all shouted at the book, Harry the loudest.

"You said you don't approve of imagination, you idiot!" said Remus. "Oh, great! Now I'm talking to the book!"

Could all this have anything to do with the Potters? If it did ... if it got out that they were related to a pair of - well, he didn't think he could bear it.
The Dursleys got into bed. Mrs. Dursley fell asleep quickly but Mr. Dursley lay awake, turning it all over in his mind. His last, comforting thought before he fell asleep was that even if the 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 ...
How very wrong he was.

"Because to my immense displeasure, I had to come and live with you!"

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 in the next street, nor when the 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.

"He apparated."

"We know, Ron."

The cat's tail twitched and its eyes narrowed.

Nothing like this man had been seen in 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.

"It's Dumbledore!" shouted Harry.

"Sounds like Dumbledore," commented James. "But what would he be doing in Privet Drive?"

"I don't know," answered Peter. "Maybe tell-"

"It was a rhetorical question, Wormtail. I wasn't really expecting an answer."

He was wearing long robes, a purple cloak which 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 was right."

Albus Dumbledore didn't seem to realize that he had just arrived in a street where everything from his name to his boots was unwelcome. He was busy rummaging in his cloak, looking for something. But he did seem to realize he was being watched, because he looked up suddenly at the cat, which was still staring at him from the other end of the street. For some reason, the sight of the cat seemed to amuse him. He chuckled and muttered, "I should have known."

He had 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.

"Cool!" said Harry and Ron.

"Cool!" said Sirius and James at the same time.

"They stole our words again!"

Remus rolled his eyes.

He clicked it again - the next lamp flickered into darkness. Twelve times he clicked the Put-Outer, until the only lights left in the

"In the what?"

"Maybe it's a typo."

"Probably."

If anyone looked out of their window now, even the 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 towards 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."

"I knew it!"

"Yay, I was right!" cheered James. "You owe me five galleons, Padfoot! Pay up!"

"Yes! My dad won the bet!"

Sirius, grumbling and swearing under his breath, reached into his pocket and counted out five galleons, which he handed to James.

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.

"Great description" noted Ron.

"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 too 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."

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 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."

"Who's Dedalus Diggle?" asked Peter.

"Apparently he is someone who set off shooting stars down in Kent" said Harry.

Ron sniggered.

"Hufflepuff student in the year above us," responded Remus.

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 sherbet lemon?"

"What?"

"A what?"

"A sherbet lemon. They're a kind of Muggle sweet I'm rather fond of."

"Trust Dumbledore to say something at a time like this" said Harry, chuckling.

"No, thank you," said Professor McGonagall coldly, as though she didn't think this was the moment for sherbet lemons.

"It probably isn't."

"You're probably right."

"You're probably going to shut up so I can read!"

"Sorry," said Ron and Harry yet again.

Hermione huffed.

"As I say, even if You-Know-Who has gone -"

"My dear Professor, surely a sensible person like your self 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".

"See Ron?"

He ignored them.

Peter and Lily flinched and the others ignored it.

Professor McGonagall flinched, but Dumbledore, who was un-sticking two sherbet lemons, 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

Peter and Lily flinched again. This time, Sirius gave them a look.

name."

"I know you haven't," said Professor McGonagall, sounding half-exasperated, half-admiring. "But you're different. Everyone knows you're the one You-Know - oh, all right, Voldemort –

"She said it!"

Lily did her best not to flinch, whereas Peter couldn't stop himself and did flinch.

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."

At this point Hermione went into a fit of giggles and couldn't continue. Harry and Ron weren't in a much better state.

"Do you think he fancies her?" asked Ron, emerging from a pillow on the sofa.

"Ron," said Hermione reprovingly. "That is disgusting Ron."

"Ugh!" exclaimed James. "That's just a bit-"

"Too much information," finished Sirius, shuddering.

Professor McGonagall shot a sharp look at Dumbledore and said, "The owls are nothing 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 sherbet lemon 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 rumour is that Lily and James Potter

"YES!" shouted James with glee. "There's no doubt now that you're my wife, Lily!"

"He won't be happy for much longer."

Lily groaned, but she did look sort of pleased at the same time. "Maybe you're not so bad after all, Pot-I mean James."

"Maybe not. They did marry each other, after all. "

are - are - that they're - dead.

There was a stunned silence in the room. Lily finally said, "James and I are d-dead?" The others all looked shocked.

Harry kept his head down and the others looked at him sympathetically.

Dumbledore bowed his head. Professor McGonagall gasped.

"Lily and James ... I can't believe it ... I didn't want to believe it ... Oh, Albus ..."

"Apparently she liked them, even though my dad was such a prankster." The thought seemed to cheer Harry up a bit.

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.

"VOLDEMORT KILLED MY-" began James, looking furious as he shouted.

"Don't worry, dad, I'm not dead."

"Calm down, Padfoot," interrupted Remus. "It says 'tried'. I don't think he succeeded in killing your son."

"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."

"Yes. My best friend, you know" said Ron. Harry looked at him and smiled.

Lily and James looked proud at the fact that their son somehow defeated Voldemort and a bit sad as well.

"They should be proud of you Harry" said Hermione.

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?"

"Because my mother died to protect me!"

"We can only guess," said Dumbledore. "We may never know."

"Yes, you will."

Professor McGonagall pulled out a lace handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes beneath her spectacles.

"She can cry?!?" asked Ron incredulously.

She is human Ron" said Hermione reprovingly

Dumbledore gave a great sniff as he took out a watch from his pocket and examined it. It was a very odd watch. It had twelve hands but no numbers; instead, little planets were moving around the edge. It must have made sense to Dumbledore, though, because he put it back in his pocket and said, "Hagrid's late. I suppose it was he who told you I'd be here, by the way?"

"Hagrid's coming?"

"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.

Harry glared.

"You what?" exclaimed Lily, not believing her ears. "My son is not going to stay with my horrid sister and her husband!"

"Glad they agree."

"Padfoot, promise me you'll be godfather and take care of Harry," said James desperately. "I'll write it in my will."

"Sorry dad, but he will go to Azkaban for 12 years. I don't think he can exactly take care of me."

"Of course, Prongs mate," answered Sirius. "You don't have to ask."

"And if Padfoot can't take Harry in, Moony and Wormtail, you'll look after Harry, right?"

"I don't want to have Wormtail look after me!"

"Calm down Harry, he didn't."

Remus and Wormtail nodded, though Remus looked a bit uncertain. "Will a werewolf be allowed to take in a kid?"

"Don't think so."

"Don't worry," said James. "When you're going through a full moon, Peter can take care of Harry."

"No he won't."

Lily smiled and said, "Well, you guys will definitely be better than my sister."

They're the only family he has left now."

"Sadly."

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 agree with her."

"Me too"

"Me three"

"For once in my life, I agree with McGonagall," stated Sirius, looking a little shocked at the fact.

Ron and Harry sniggered.

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!"

"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."

"Oh, and you think you can explain all this in a letter?" asked James, sarcastically. "They'll never understand him!"

"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!

"Have you noticed, that people in this story seem to steal other people's words?"

"Yes we did Ron, now shut up."

"Even McGonagall agrees with me!" exclaimed James. "She even used the same words I did!"

He'll be famous - a legend - I wouldn't be surprised if today was known as Harry Potter Day in future - there will be books written about Harry –

"The proof is right here."

every child in our world will know his name!"

"I wish they didn't. It's not fun to be famous."

"Harry, we know."

Lily burst into tears. "Our son, famous. And we won't be around to see him grow up. Where are you, Sirius?"

"Maybe I'm going after the Death Eaters who told Voldemort where you are," replied Sirius. "Sorry, Peter."

"For what? Mentioning the Death Eaters?"

"No, saying the name."

"Oh."

"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?"

"He has a point," said Remus.

"I guess. Though I doubt I'd be a spoiled brat anyway."

"But that doesn't mean Harry should be living with Petunia and her husband!" snapped Lily. "Why can't Sirius take in Harry and not expose him to people in the wizarding world? That would work just as well.

"It would, but Sirius went to Azkaban" said Ron.

"Ron, why do you keep stating the obvious?"

"It's fun."

"But not for us, so shut up."

"Okay."

Professor McGonagall opened her mouth, changed her mind, swallowed and then said, "Yes - yes, you're right, of course.

"I can't believe it!" exclaimed Sirius. "McGonagall has backed down! She's never done that before."

But how is the boy getting here Dumbledore?"

She eyed his cloak suddenly as though she thought he might be hiding Harry underneath it.

"I don't think I'm in Dumbledore's cloak."

"Nor do I"

"Hagrid's bringing him."

"Cool!"

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

"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?"

"Absolutely no idea."

"Maybe it's me coming to take Harry away, before you idiots leave him with the Dursleys!" yelled Sirius.
"I hope so!" said Lily and James together.

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 motorbike fell out of the air and landed on the road in front of them.

"Awesome!" Harry and Ron said at once.

Hermione just muttered, "Boys"

"Cool! I have a flying motorbike!" Sirius practically shouted.

"He does?"

If the motorbike 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 dustbin 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!" they all said at once.

"Where am I? And why don't I have a flying motorbike?" asked Sirius. "I wish I had one."

"I hope you don't have one," muttered Remus.

"I guess he doesn't have one, then"

"Hagrid," said Dumbledore, sounding relieved. "At last. And where did you get that motorbike?"

"Borrowed it, Professor Dumbledore, sir," said the giant, climbing carefully off the motorbike as he spoke. "Young Sirius Black lent it me."

"It is Sirius's! Ron, we have to borrow it!"

"Definitely"

Remus groaned loudly. "Whoo-hoo!" cheered Sirius. "It is mine after all! But why am I not there to rescue Harry? He's my godson!"

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 were flyin' over Bristol."

"Aww…" crooned Hermione. "I never thought of you as a baby."

"Shut up"

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.

"Looks like your son has inherited your hair, James!" said Remus.

"Yep" said Harry, trying to flatten it, but to no avail.

"We already knew that from the cover, Moony," said James, looking a bit exasperated.

"Oh, yeah!"

"Is that where - ?" whispered Professor McGonagall.

"Yes," said Dumbledore. "He'll have that scar for ever."

"And I wish I didn't."

"Couldn't you do something about it, Dumbledore?"

"Even if I could, I wouldn't. Scars can come in useful. I have one myself above my left knee which is a perfect map of the London Underground.

"Does he really?" asked Ron.

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

Dumbledore took Harry in his arms and turned towards the Dursleys' house.

"Could I - could I say goodbye 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.

Harry had a very embarrassed look on his face.

Then, suddenly, Hagrid let out a howl like a wounded dog.

"Why do I have the feeling Sirius won't like that?"

"Because he probably won't?"

"I don't like that comparison!" pouted Sirius.

"See?"

"Shut up and let me finish this chapter!" snapped Remus.

"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,"

"Wonderful comfort" said Ron sarcastically.

Shut up, Ron! I want to finish this chapter!

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.

"See? Everybody misses you, Harry. Even McGonagall, and that's saying something."

"Ron, if I have to tell you to shut up one more time-"

"Okay, Okay, keep your hair on."

"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."

"You'd better return my bike!" said Sirius. "Then I'll go and rescue Harry!"

"I don't think you'll be doing that Sirius. First you will be chasing out Wormtail, then you'll be arrested and put in Azkaban."

"So, Hermione, you're allowed to talk but we can't."

"Basically, yes."

Wiping his streaming eyes on his jacket sleeve, Hagrid swung himself on to the motorbike 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.

"Did she get snot on him?"

That's disgusting, Ron."

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.

"I'll need it" Harry whispered.

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!"

"People were toasting me? Why can't they just leave me alone, for once?"

"And that's the end of chapter one," said Remus. "Who wants to read next?"

The others looked at each other, than James said, "I will." He took the book from Remus.

"That's the end of this chapter. Who is reading?" asked Hermione.

"I will." Ron took the book and turned to chapter two.

Wow this is long! 28 pages!

How did you like the first chapter? I know Harry kind of died out in the end, but he could be feeling rather sorry for himself and not talking very much. At least that is what I interpreted it as.

Please review! I am literally addicted to them!

Sparkling-stone