Heyy! This is the last two chapters joined together. Please enjoy!

The hall sat in shocked silence, everyone thinking about Harry's outburst. Sirius had instantly pulled an irate Harry back into his seat, whispering soothing words into his ear to calm him. Albus stared at Harry sympathetically; the young boy wizard had a valid point. Had anyone been thinking of the Potter's death and the poor little boy who had lost his Mum and Dad? Or had they all been too caught up in the excitement of Voldemort been gone? Of course, Albus himself had had very little time to celebrate, as he had had to make arrangements for the youngest Potter. One's he now regretted.

"Mr Potter, I can assure you that many of us were undoubtedly thinking of your loss, the night the Dark Lord fell from power fourteen years ago. Although, for different reasons entirely for some of us I am sure."

This comment came from Snape, in his dry sarcastic tone, which only angered Harry all the more. "Quit with the snide remarks about my Dad Snape! He was a great Man!" Severus had risen from his seat slightly, locking his gaze with Harry's; hissing at him, "I've told you once Potter and I'll keep on telling you – Your beloved Father was an arrogant bully of a swine!"

Harry shot up before anybody could react, running straight across the room at Snape. However, Severus had seen this coming and had withdrawn his Wand and pointed it at Harry.

"ENOUGH!" Harry turned at the loud deep voice, coming from his Headmaster. Dumbledore, he saw, looked remarkably calm, but you could see the twinkle in his eyes had disappeared. "Enough, Severus, I would like to speak with you later, until then, please refrain from disrespecting the dead." Albus shot Snape a look, which he knew shouldn't be argued with. He turned to Harry next; "Mr Potter, please be so kind as to return to your seat with Sirius…" Harry had just then noticed that his Godfather had joined him. Sirius rested a hand on Harry's shoulder, squeezing it in comfort. Harry returned his gaze to Dumbledore as he continued to speak. "If it is alright by you, I would also like to speak with you at our next break; I feel we have a couple of things to discuss. Don't you think, Harry?" Harry stared at his Headmaster, taking in his sad smile. A warm comfort had formed in the pit of his stomach, at the use of his first name. It has been so long since he last called me 'Harry', is it stupid that I missed him, his companionship. Realising he had yet to break his gaze from the old man, he replied, softly; "Yes, of course, Sir. Can I suggest that we continue with story for now?" Seeing Dumbledore nod, Harry smiled at him a little and returned to his seat with Sirius as requested.

"And the old man hugged Mr Dursley around the middle and walked off. Mr Dursley stood rooted to the spot. He had just 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 00 was the tabby cat he had 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."

Everyone laughed at the mysterious Cat, despite feeling awkward after Harry's last speech, but they were glad for something to break the tension. "Come on, that has to be you Professor!" Shouted Dean. Professor McGonagall merely laughed and said "I'm not saying anything, I'm sure you will all find out later." McGonagall gestured for Albus to continue.

"Shoo!" said Mr Dursley loudly. The cat didn't move. It just gave him a stern look. 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 a new word ("Won't!"). Mrs Weasley let out a gasp; "Harry, your cousin is very lucky he is not one of mine! His attitude is appalling!" Mr Dursley tried to act normally. When Dudley had been put to bed, he went into the living room 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." "He's a Wizard!" Exclaimed Fred Weasley. "I was going to say the same thing!" Grinned George Weasley. "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 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 about the Potters… Mrs Dursley came into the living room carrying two cups of tea. It's 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. "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." Hermione Granger growled, which was something Hermione never did. Harry turned to her questionably. "'Her crowd', he needs to get over himself. " Harry nodded in understanding. After all, he had lived with the Dursley for the last fourteen years. "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.

Harry once again jumped as Sirius growled in his ear, "I swear, if your Walrus of an Uncle says one more thing against your Mum and Dad –"Harry smirked at Sirius, nudging him with his elbow. Albus was watching the scene very closely; he knew that Harry and Sirius would help each other in more ways than one. Although, he didn't want to share Harry, Albus knew that he didn't have a choice. It was obvious that Harry adored Sirius. Whilst he had all but abandoned Harry, Sirius had been there to pick up the pieces. For that, Albus would always be grateful. He didn't want to think how Harry might have ended up, if he was completely alone during this year. He would have to thank Sirius sometime.

"The Dursleys got into their bed. Mrs Dursley fell asleep quickly but Mr Dursley lay awake, turning it all over in his mind." "Hold on a second!" Interrupted Ginny Weasley, "for him to be thinking over the day's events, doesn't that have to imply that Vernon Dursley has a brain?" The entire Hall snorted at Ginny's remark, or rather, insult at Harry's Uncle. "I am betrothed to say Miss Weasley, that Mr Dursley does indeed house a Brain." Replied Albus Dumbledore, with a little twinkle to his eye. "To be fair Headmaster, you never did say where!" Exclaimed both the Weasley twins. Dumbledore chuckled at the Twins antics, "True, true."

Harry listened carefully to the scene playing out before him; he had wanted to speak out with some snide comment about Uncle Vernon and his brain. Yet instead Harry had decided to play silent witness, just intent on watching the great old Wizard stood proudly in front of him and slightly to his left. He wanted to observe how Dumbledore interacted with other people, besides himself. He noticed that that full blown twinkle than shone in the Professor's eyes, when he spoke to Harry, was at the moment only half force. Harry found himself fancying for a moment that maybe he- Harry was the only person who could make the great Albus Dumbledore's eyes shine so valiantly. Then he quickly returned to his senses, as he forced one side of his brain to admit, that a fifteen year old like him, would have the power to do something like that. How could he even think that he and Dumbledore shared something special, when all the Headmaster had done all year, was ignore him.

You'd think thought Harry What with Dumbledore being the greatest Wizard alive, that he'd know how he made me feel this whole year. Him and his constant ignorance towards me. Did he not realise that, that time in his office after I warned him Mr Weasley had been attacked, did he not know how much it hurt when he wouldn't even look at me. Now here he is smiling at me, like nothing had happened. But, he is making the effort now, which means something doesn't it?

Almost as if he could hear Harry's internal battle, Albus let his eyes rest on Harry, not backing down when Harry returned his gaze. He wondered why Harry suddenly looked so miserable. Perhaps he knew it was close, the mention of Lily and James' deaths. Albus couldn't help feel ashamed as he thought briefly what would have happened had James and Lily still been alive. Would Harry still be the same boy he is today? Or would he have been spoilt, and been as arrogant as his Father had been in his youth? Albus adored James, but didn't feel he would be up-to having a miniature James running around. In a way, Harry was pure James, in looks and his certain dis-regard for breaking the rules. But Harry had Lily's eyes and her heart. He was a good boy; he had the best of both of his Parents. He saw Harry's eyes widen in surprise, as the young boy must have noticed his twinkling eyes. Albus gently smiled at the raven haired teenager. He was delighted as Harry beamed back at him. "We're going to be okay, I just know it." Albus told himself.

"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 …" "Believe me Uncle Vernon; I'd much rather be living with my Mum and Dad." Harry whispered. "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 in 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 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. 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." The Student's roared and clapped in happiness as Albus Dumbledore's name was read out. Hagrid, Sirius, Remus and most of the Professor's joined in on the applause. Harry could seea slight blush rising up Dumbledore's cheeks. "Thank you very much, how very touching." "Albus Dumbledore didn't seem to realise 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 realise 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. He clicked it again – the next lamp flickered into darkness…" "Sorry for interrupting Professor Dumbledore" Said Ron, nervously "But, what exactly is that Putter-outer thing?" Dumbledore smiled briefly at Ron, "That Putter-outer as you call it Mr Weasley is called a Deluminator. A device of my own making, which as it says so accurately in the book, puts out lights and restores them." Ron nodded in amazement as he whispered to Harry; "I want one of those"

"Twelve times he clicked the Put-Outer, until the only lights left in 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.' It was no surprise what happened next. "I told you! I knew it!" Fred and George shouted in excitement 'We've never known a Cat sit so stiffly.' The for-mentioned Professor glared at the red-headed twins. "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 around its eyes. She, too, was wearing a cloak, and 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.' Everyone who knew the Weasley twins turned to look at them, mirth filling their eyes. The Twins shivered in faux horror at what had happened. Everybody laughed at the child-like behaviour.

'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 feats and parties on my way here.' Nobody asked why Harry didn't seemingly react, at Dumbledore's suggestion that the Transfiguration Professor should have been out celebrating. After all, it was common knowledge that Harry held Albus in the highest regard.

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 starts … 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 been 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?'

'It certainly seems so,' said Dumbledore. 'We have much to be thankful for. Would you care for a Sherbet Lemon?' Harry sniggered at Dumbledore's love of the Muggle sweet.

'A what?'

'A sherbet lemon. 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 sherbet lemons. '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.' Half of the Great Hall flinched at the name. "Professor McGonagall flinched, but Dumbledore, who was unsticking 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 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.'

'You are the greatest Wizard of our time Sir. A hero for many! A hero to me! More than a match for Tom Riddle' Harry exclaimed, in defending Dumbledore from his-self, blushing at his own words. Harry could see tears filling Dumbledore's eyes; 'Thank you Harry.'

'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.' Harry, who had conjured up some Pumpkin Juice, choked on the liquid at Dumbledore's sentence. Sirius patted him on his back laughing, whilst he said to Dumbledore; 'Thanks for that visual Albus, I'm sure we will all sleep better tonight, especially Harry here.' Harry once again snorted as he smacked Sirius on the arm lightly. "Professor McGonagall shot a sharp look at Dumbledore and said, 'The owls are nothing compared to the rumours 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. 'I'm beginning to think that you have an addiction to those Muggle Sweets, Albus." Severus Snape sneered. '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 are – are – that they're – dead.' Any laughter that might have filled the air from Snape's comment was silenced at once, as Lily and James were mentioned. Everybody's eyes turned to Harry, nobody dared to speak. Harry shrunk within himself at all the stares. He hated been famous, he especially hated been famous for the reason that he was. He would trade his fame for his Parents any day. "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 Potters' son, Harry. But – he couldn't. He couldn't kill that little boy. No one knows why, or how, but they're saying that when he couldn't kill Harry Potter, Voldemort's power somehow broke – and that's why he's gone.'

Dumbledore nodded glumly. 'It's - it's true?' faltered Professor McGonagall. 'After all he's done … all the people he's killed … he couldn't kill a little boy? It's just astounding … of all the things to stop him … but how in the name of heaven did Harry survive?' Dumbledore didn't need to use legilemency to know that every single soul in the room was entirely focused on him, waiting to know the truth, a truth which had been hidden for nearly sixteen years. How did Harry Potter survive?

'We can only guess,' said Dumbledore. 'We may never know.' Everybody's face faltered at Dumbledore's answer, everybody except Harry. Harry was now staring stone-faced at his Headmaster. 'You're lying.' The teacher's except Dumbledore all gasped. 'Potter. That is hardly the proper way to speak to the Headmaster – you arrogant little …' Snape found himself cut off by the man in question. 'It's alright Severus. Harry – I never lied to Professor McGonagall. However, I shall speak to you soon about the topic. I feel there is many of things we need to speak about. Shall I proceed with the chapter, Harry?' Harry nodded reluctantly at his Professor, before remembering to glare at Snape for his 'lovely' comment.

Author's Note:

Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it. Please review, and I shall see you when I see you.

I have joined all my chapter's together, otherwise I am going to end up with fifty chapters for The Boy Who Lived.

Love, Amorous Erised.