Chapter 1

James cleared his throat loudly, before opening the book to the first chapter.

"The Boy Who Lived" he read.

"Who's he?" asked Sirius.

"I am sure, Mr Black, that we will find out if you are patient." Said Minerva. James continued.

"Mr and Mrs Dursley, of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much." He was interrupted by his wife.

"Dursley? That's the last name of that giant walrus that my sister married! This story must be about us!"

"I am sure we will find out, if we manage to get past the first sentence" Dumbledore suggested gently. Lily blushed.

"Sorry. Please James, carry on"

"Honestly, some people. Anyway, here goes. 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, which made drills..."

"Fun job" murmured Fabian Prewitt, only to be faced with a steely glare from Minerva. James carried on regardless.

"He was a big, beefy man with hardly any neck, although he did have a very large mustache." Here, James snorted loudly. "Mrs Dursley obviously doesn't have the same impeccable tasted as her sister" he boasted.

"She obviously doesn't have that much taste or she would have chosen me not you" replied Sirius in turn. Lily growled.

"Can you continue reading, please? Or do you want to spend the night on the couch, James?" she threatened. James gulped loudly and carried on reading.

"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 neighbours"

"She never had a very interesting life" said Lily, shaking her head. Minerva looked at her in astonishment.

"Miss Evans- I mean Mrs Potter, I expected better of you! Now can we please carry on?" Lily blushed a colour to rival her hair and gestured for her husband to continue.

"The Dursleys had a small son called Dudley-"

"Nice name" cut in Fabian Prewitt's twin, Gideon, to sniggers from most of the room. Professor McGonagall looked as though she were about to pop a blood vessel.

"-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."

"What was it, that their lawn wasn't perfectly mowed?" Sirius asked Remus in whispers, who began to laugh but quickly covered it up with a cough as Minerva's glare fell on them.

"They didn't think they could bear it anyone found out about the Potters- Hey, what's so bad about us!" said James indignantly. Lily quickly soothed him, but McGonagall looked stern.

"Mr Potter, it would be nice if you would let us get far enough into the book to find out what was so bad about the Potters, though I have an idea already!"

"You know you love me really, Minnie" sang James. 'Minnie' didn't look very impressed.

"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-"

"There goes her Christmas present" chuntered Lily.

"- because her sister and her good-for-nothing husband were as unDursleyish as it was possible to be."

"Is unDursleyish even a word?" asked a perplexed Dedalus Diggle. Remus, one of the few scholars of the room, rolled his eyes.

"What do you think, Dedalus?" he asked impatiently. James coughed loudly.

"I am trying to read here! Honestly, some people. No consideration. Anyway, where was I? Oh yes, I remember. 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- Hey, I get a son! Cool!"

"I've always wanted a son- I guess we call him Harry then" said Lily. Sitting across from her, her best friend, Alice Longbottom, grinned.

"Nice to know your future, eh Lils?" Once again, Minerva spoke up in disapproval.

"Can we please get on? I was hoping we'd finish the first chapter tonight!"

"Ok, fine" grumbled James. "-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."

"My Harry is much better than Petunia's horrible Dudley!" fumed Lily, causing the other members of the group to look surprised at her maternal response.

"Don't worry, Lils, we all know that" soothed James. Gideon and Fabian sighed loudly.

"Aw, ickle Lily's getting protective over her son. Sweet!" they joked in unison, causing Lily to give them a McGonagall-esque glare. James carried on hastily before his wife murdered someone.

"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-"

"Some things never change" muttered Lily quietly.

"-as she wrestled a screaming Dudley into his high chair. None of the 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 tied to kiss Dudley good-bye but missed, because Dudley was now having a tantrum and throwing his cereal at the walls."

"Lovely child" commented Marlene.

"'Little tyke' chortled Mr Dursley as he left the house. He got into his car-"

"Hey, I've always wanted one of those!" exclaimed Sirius loudly.

"-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."

"It's McGonagall" chorused Fabian and Gideon in unison. She sent them a withering glare.

"Why on earth would I be there?" she asked scathingly. They just shrugged.

"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."

"Definitely McGonagall" mumbled Fabian.

"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-"

"EARTHQUAKE!" cried Sirius, causing the assembled Order Members to laugh loudly, even though Minerva was huffing and puffing. Even Dumbledore had a twinkle in his eye.

"-and put the cat out of his mind. As he drove toward town he thought of nothing except a large order of drills he was hoping to get that day. But on the edge of town, drills were driven out of his mind by something else. As he sat in the usual morning traffic jam, he couldn't help noticing that there seemed to be a lot of strangely dressed people about. People in cloaks. Mr Dursley couldn't bear people who dressed in funny clothes- the getups you saw on young people! He supposed this was some stupid new fashion."

"What on earth has caused everyone to be so careless?" asked Dorcas Meadows incredulously. Everyone shrugged, but Dumbledore leant forward and began to concentrate harder.

"He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel and his eyes fell on the huddle of these weirdos standing quite close by."

"We are not weirdos!" burst out Minerva, only to blush as everyone stared at her with raised eyebrows. She quickly gestured for James to continue.

"They were whispering excitedly together. Mr Dursley was enraged to see that a couple of them weren't young at all; why, that man had to be older than he was and wearing an emerald-green cloak! The nerve of him! But then it struck Mr Dursley that this was probably some silly stunt- these people were obviously collecting for something...yes that would be it."

"Some people really ignore the obvious!" said Remus. Everyone nodded in agreement.

"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 have found it harder to concentrate on drills that morning. He didn't see the owls flying past in broad daylight, though people down in the street did; the pointed and gazed open-mouthed as owl after owl sped overhead. 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 and shouted a bit more."

"He has a great job" said Frank Longbottom sarcastically.

"He was in a very good mood until lunchtime, when he thought-"

"Bet that hurt"

"-he'd stretch his legs and walk across the road to buy himself a bun from the bakery. 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."

"Maybe that's because they're not collecting something" said Gideon, as though he was talking to an incredibly slow person.

"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 Potter, that's right, that's what I heard-"

"-yes, their son, Harry"

"Why are they talking about us?" asked Lily, her voice full of fear. James held her close to him.

"I'm sure we're fine, love" he soothed.

"Mr Dursley stopped dead. Fear flooded him."

"Aw, he cares. Wait- oh no, I meant he's worried about whether it will affect him" said Sirius bitterly.

"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-"

"Nice" muttered Frank.

"-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...no, he was being stupid. Potter wasn't such an unusual name. It is in the Wizarding world" said James with a frown.

"Not in the muggle world though" replied Lily.

"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."

"I HATE those names" said Lily. "Tuney knows that."

"There was no point in worrying Mrs Dursley; she always got so upset at the mention of her sister. He didn't blame her- if he'd had a sister like that-"

"We used to be so close" sighed Lily, burying her head in James' shoulder.

"Don't worry, Lils, we all know you're the best" said Alice. Everyone nodded in agreement. Lily smiled in thanks.

" –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-"

"What is he, a troll?" asked Remus.

"-as the tiny old man stumbled and almost fell. It was a few seconds before Mr Dursley realised 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!" James stopped in shock.

"Voldemort's gone" he whispered.

"How?" asked Alice. Everyone looked stunned, until Sirius let out a woop.

"Yes! Voldemort's gone! This is great news!" he cried and everyone began laughing. One sentence from Dumbledore made them all stop.

"But at what cost?" he asked gravelly. They turned to look at Lily and James. A mention about the Potters- was it linked to Voldemort's demise?

" Even Muggles like yourself should be celebrating, this happy, happy day!" 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. 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. As he pulled into the driveway of number four, the first thing he saw- and it didn't improve his mood- was the tabby cat he'd spotted that morning. It was now sitting on his garden wall. He was sure it was the same one; it had the same markings around its eyes. 'Shoo!' said Mr Dursley, loudly. The cat didn't move. It just gave him a stern look."

"Definitely McGonagall" sighed Fabian. Minerva half-smiled, it seemed as though he may be right.

"Was this normal cat behaviour? 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!)."

"Brat" said several people.

"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 grub. '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.'"

"These people are being very irresponsible!" said Minerva indignantly.

"Voldemort has gone, Minerva" Dumbledore reminded her gently.

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

"How kind of them" said Lily angrily. Alice reached over to pat her on the arm.

"Don't worry, Lils, I think of you as my sister and I'll never pretend you don't exist" she said. Lily smiled.

"Thanks Ali" she said.

"No problem"

" '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.'"

"Her crowd" burst an outraged Sirius. "Humph"

"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"

"Chicken" muttered Fabian and Gideon.

"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?' Unlikely" snorted James. "Howard rhymes with coward. Anyway... '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 if 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."

"That's not very nice" said Frank. "He doesn't care about them at all."

"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 the, 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."

"I don't like the sound of that" said a worried Lily, pressing closer to her husband's side. No one was smiling.

"Mr. Dursley might have been drifting into an uneasy sleep, but the cat on the wall outside was showing no signs 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."

"Definitely McGonagall" said Sirius with a knowing nod.

"A man appeared in 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.

"Dumbledore!" crowed Fabian and Gideon in unison. Dumbledore just smiled slightly.

He was wearing long robes, a purple cloak that swept to the ground and high-heeled, buckled boots. His eyes were light, bright and sparkling behind half-moon glasses and his nose was very long and crooked, as though it had been broken at least twice. The man's name was Albus Dumbledore. Albus Dumbledore didn't seem to realise that he had just arrived on 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.'

'Told you it was McGonagall.'

'I feel you may be right, Sirius' admitted Professor McGonagall. Sirius pumped his fist into the air.

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. He clicked it again - the next lamp flickered into darkness.

'That is so cool!' exclaimed Remus, James, Sirius, Fabian and Gideon at the exact same time. Dumbledore smiled.

'It is a rather brilliant little invention, is it not?' he said.

Twelve times he clicked the Put-Outer, until the only lights left on the whole street were two tiny pinpricks in the distance, which were the eyes of the cat watching him. If anyone looked out of their window now, even beady-eyed Mrs. Dursley, they wouldn't be able to see anything that was happening down on the pavement. Dumbledore slipped the Put-Outer back inside his cloak and set off down the street 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.' He turned to smile at the tabby, but it was 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 is 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.'

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.'

'HEY!' exclaimed Dedalus in outrage.

'I apologise' said McGonagall stiffly.

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

'Oh My Word, this is all going to happen in the next two years!' said Lily. Everyone looked shocked, except for James.

'We could always speed it on a bit…' he said slyly, causing Lily to elbow him sharply.

'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 rumours.'

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?'

'You-Know Who has gone?' whispered Emmeline in shock. Around the table, everyone was frozen in disbelief, apart from Sirius.

'YES!' he exclaimed, grabbing Marlene and whirling her around in the air. They had been together since they were in school, where she was a year younger than him. Soon everyone else had started celebrating too, except for Dumbledore.

'But at what cost?' he said. Everyone turned to look at James and Lily, who had been mentioned so much in the books. James carried on reading.

'It certainly seems so,' said Dumbledore. 'We have much to be thankful for. Would you care for a lemon drop?'

'A what?' asked Alice, who was pureblood and had never had a lemon drop.

'They're a kind of muggle sweet that are really nice' replied Lily. James sniggered as he carried on reading.

'What?' asked Lily and Alice sharply.

'You'll see'

'A what?'

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

'Oh'

'No , thank you,' said Professor McGonagall coldly, as though she didn't think this was the moment for lemon drops. 'As I say, even if You-Know-Who has gone –'

'My dear Professor, surely a sensible person like yourself can call him by his name. All this 'You-Know-Who' nonsense – for eleven years I have been trying to persuade people to call him by his proper name: Voldemort.' 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 personally have never seen any reason to be frightened of saying Voldemort's name.'

'I know you haven't,' said Professor McGonagall, sounding half-exasperated, half-admiring. 'But you're different. Everyone knows you're the only one You-Know-Who, 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 noble to use them!' said Alice.

'Only because you're too – well – noble to use them.'

'Looks like you're like McGonagall Ali-cat' said Frank.

'I can think of worse people to be like' she shot back, causing McGonagall to smile warmly.

'Thank you' she said.

'It's lucky it's dark. I haven't blushed so much since Madam Pomfrey told me she liked my new earmuffs.'

'Way too much information professor' said Sirius.

Professor McGonagall shot a sharp look at Dumbledore and said, 'The owls are nothing next to the rumours that are flying around. You know what everyone's saying? About why he 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 turned up in Godric's Hollow. He went to find the Potters. The rumour is that Lily and James Potter are – are – that they're – dead.'

'NO!' howled Sirius in disbelief. Lily burst out in sobs as James held her close to him. Around the table, many were crying. Alice was absolutely distraught. Even Dumbledore and Moody had tears in their eyes.

'Come on, Dumbledore, tell McGonagall it isn't true' said Sirius, only to be shot down, when Remus, having been handed the book by James, read the next line.

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. '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.

'What!' cried everyone. James and Lily raised their heads, their faces streaked with tears.

'Our son defeated Voldemort? He survived?' asked James. Everyone was dumbstruck with shock. Even Dumbledore looked impressed.

'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. 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.'

'No, don't do it Dumbledore' cried Sirius. 'He can come live with me!'

'What are you thinking? You saw what they're like!' said Fabian in disgust. Everyone nodded.

'I must have my reasons' said Dumbledore calmly.

'You don't mean – you can't mean the people who live here?' cried Professor McGonagall, jumping to her feet and pointing to 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!'

'It's the best place for him,' said Dumbledore firmly.

'NO, it really isn't' said Sirius. 'The best place for him is with me.'

'His aunt and uncle will be able to explain everything to him when he's older. I've written them a letter.'

'A letter! You can't explain all this in letter!' said Alice.

'A letter?' repeated Professor McGonagall faintly, sitting back down on the wall. 'Really, Dumbledore, you think you can explain all this in a letter?

'Alice, you're really worrying me how alike you are to McGonagall' said Frank jokingly.

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!'

'Your son's more famous than you are, Prongs' said Sirius, trying to make James feel better. James smiled half-heartedly.

'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 eyes his cloak suddenly as though she thought he might be hiding Harry underneath it.

'That would be so cool' exclaimed Gideon. His girlfriend, Dorcas Meadows, rolled her eyes.

'Hagrid's bringing him.'

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

'I would trust Hagrid with my life' said Frank solemnly.

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

Everyone laughed.

'So Frankie, looks like Alice is like McGonagall and you're like Dumbledore' said Sirius. Frank just grinned.

"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.

'I WANT ONE!' screeched Sirius loudly, causing Marlene to silence him quickly. He glared at her playfully.

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."

At his words, Sirius' eyes bulged, and he grabbed a piece of paper, on which he wrote in capital letters:

I WANT MY MOTORBIKE! WHY DID I NOT TAKE MINI-PRONGS?

'I have no idea' answered Dumbledore honestly.

"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.

'Awww' chorused Dorcas, Marlene, Emmeline, Alice and Lily, Lily being the loudest of them all.

"Is that where —?" whispered Professor McGonagall.

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

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

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

'Um, ok' said Fabian slowly.

"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!"

'Who cares?' snorted Sirius. McGonagall gave him a look that would have scared greater men than he and he quailed under her fearsome glare.

"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."

"Yeah," said Hagrid in a very muffled voice, "I best get this bike away. 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.

The girls were in floods of tears, along with James.

"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.

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!"

'That's the end of the chapter' said Remus dully. 'Who wants to read next?'

'I will' said Dorcas, grabbing the book and turning to the next chapter.