strange people

Mr and Mrs dursley of number four, privet drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thay were the last people you would expect to be involved with anything strange or mysterious, because they didn't hold with such nonsense.

Kevin tho it was not unusual to witness odd things happening around him. from east Australia, and ever since he arrived to the street nothing seemed right; constantly dissapearing for days at a time, stalking around during the late hours of night and Earliest minutes of morning, not to mention the reddest of hair that was saved for only those with the most corrupted soles, if they even had one. Truth be told there was no mystery I what Kev did, working as a plumber often getting called out at the most random times of the night to fix a leaky tap or an overflowing toilet, along with working during the day, and while he had no explanation for the soulless red hair it's was probably just genetic.

Kev had woken up not long before the sun, which rose to a dull and Gray Tuesday, nothing suggested to him that he would soon have an intruder in his house. as he picked his Nike bucket hat and red puma tracksute for work, letting the TV blare with whatever was on at the time, knowing he'd get a noise complaint from his left side neibours. later as he backed out of his driveway, the first hint of what was to come arrived in the form of a tabby reading a map, but like any sane person would kev ignored the peculiar sight and continued on his way to work, watching it through his mirror as it looked to be reading the street sighn:privet drive, laughing to himself at the idea of a cat reading a sighn, but soon forgetting the trivial matters and focusing on getting to work on time despite already being late.

As he drove further from his house and closer to his destination he had to slam on his breaks as a group of striangley dressed people in cloaks suddenly walked onto the road, muttering excitedly about some type of pottery as kev got a glimpse of a fossil in an emerald green cloaks seemed to be ushering them across. The traffic gradually moved forwards and the closed men left his sight and mind as he turned up for work almost a half-hour late.

To say that Kevin's boss was angry was an understatement and kev was lucky he was still in a job, this was probably only because a flock of hundreds of owls could be seen from all angles of the workshop and formed a distraction for his boss Brad, he knew then that he would forever be indetted to hundreds of birds getting up at the wrong time, much like he had.

Leaving the house of the last client with chad the 17year old apprentice, who was legally only supposed to be working after school, ^but who am I to dob them in when he needs the experience^. The two waited at a stop light, where once again a plethora of cloaked individuals gathered and went to walk out onto the road

"Oi the lights still red ya can't cross"

The only response he got was many eyes staring at him watching him, as the walking man turned from red to green and crossed the road followed by chad and the group as they muttered nonsense

"The potters, that's right, that's what I heard-"

"-yes their son harry-"

Altho not much more could be heard as the group dissapeared into a shop and chad walked off to get lunch before their break ended and the had to get back to work.

Finishing his last job about half past five he headed to his car, mind on nothing but getting home and going to bed, but was for the third* time today interrupted by a man in a cloak. Walking into the tiny old man in a vibrant purple cloak he uttered an apology as the man latched onto him in a hug and gusshed about how nothing could ruin his day,

"Rejoice, for you-know-who has gone at las, even muggles like yourself should be celebrating this joyus-happy day!", Before walking off.

"The fuck did he call me, a muggle, the fuck does that even mean".

Pulling into his driveway he could see the tabby, sitting on the retaining(garden) wall that split his front yard with his neibours, he knew mr dursley would likely throw a fit at its presence. Kev walked into his house felling a pair of eyes on his back the entire way, looking back the only thing there was the cat but the way it looked at him freaked him the fuck out, so he hurried inside and shut the door. Turning on the TV and promptly falling asleep on the couch as his neibour yelled at an oddly 'humane' cat.

It was nearing midnight before the cat moved again.

A man appeared at the end of the street; tall, thin and old. His white beard shon in the little light left, his long robes and purple cloak dragged along the ground, and his blue eyes sparkled with mirth* behind his cresent* shaped spectacles, Albus dumbledoor was his name.

Dumbledoor rummaged through his cloak looking for somthing. as the cat stated at him he talked to himself

"I should of known" and he found what he was looking for, a small silver pen-like object. Flicking the cap of he held it above his head as the nearest street lamp went out with a pop. Clicking untill all the lamps flickered out, and put it back into his pocket.

"Fancy seeing you here professor McConagall" he spoke to the tabby who was shortly after replaced by an old-middle aged woman with square glasses, black hair in a tight bun and an emerald green dress-robe

"How did you know it was me?" She asked

"I've never seen a cat sit so stiffly"

"You would be stiff to if you had been sitting on a brick wall all day"

"All day?. You could of been celebrating?, I passed many wizards doing so on my way here"

"Ah yes celebrating, you'd think everyone would be more careful, even the muggles have noticed somthing going on. It was on their news." Jerking her head at the dark living room where the lights from the TV could be seen flickering through. I heard it. Flocks of owls....shooting stars.....well, their not completely stupid. They were bound to notice somthing.shooting stars down I kent-ill bet that was Dadalus Diggle. He never had much sense."

"You can't realy blame them, we've had precious little to celebrate for eleven years"

"I know that" she said irritably. "but that's no reason to lose our heads. People are being downright careless, put on the street in broad daylight, not even dressed in muggle clothes, swapping rumours." Throwing a side glance at him looking as though she expected him to tell her somthing but he didnt, so she went on. "A fine thing it would be if, on the 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... we have much to be thankful for.. would you like a lemon drop?"

"A what"

"A lemon drop, a muggle sweet I'm rather fond of"

"No thank you" MoGonigal said coldly as though she didn't thing that this was the moment for a lemon drop "as I say, even if You-Know-Who 'has' gone-"

"My dear professor I'm sure 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" McGonagall flinched at the word but Dumbledore seemed not to notice as he popped two more lemon drops in his mouth "it all gets so confusing, I have never had a problem with saying voldemorts name"

"I know you havent" she said half in admiration half in exasperation. "But your different, everybody knows that you were the only one...he.. was frightened of."

"You flatter me, voldemort has powers I will never have"

"Only because your too-well-noble to use them"

"I'm lucky it's dark. I haven't blushed this much since madam pampers told me she liked my new earmuffs."

Only dignifying that response with a sharp look before school spoke again "the owls are nothing next to the rumours that are flying around. You know what everyone is saying? About why he disappeared? About what finaly stopped him?"

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 he told her it was true. However he did not answer her

"what they're saying, I that last night voldemort turned up to Godrin's hollow. He went to find the potters. The rumour is that james and lily potter are-are-are that their-dead"

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.

voice trembling 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?"

"We can only guess, 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.

"Hagrid's late. I suppose it was he who told you I'd be here, by the way?"

"Yes," said Professor McGonagall. "And I don't suppose you're going to tell me why you're here, of all places?"

"I've come to bring Harry to his aunt and uncle. They're the only family he has left now."

"You don't mean — you can't mean the people who live here?" cried Professor McGonagall, moving along the wall infrount of the pidgin holes displaying the house numbers "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. "His aunt and uncle will be able to explain everything to him when he's older. I've written them a letter."

"A letter?" repeated Professor McGonagall faintly, as she realises where she stood

"Really, Dumbledore, you think you can explain all this in a letter? These people will never understand him! He'll be famous — a legend — I wouldn't be surprised if today was known as Harry Potter Day in the future — there will be books written about Harry — every child in our world will know his name!"

"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, as she resolved to watching over the child even of it ment giving him to the dursleys

"Yes — yes, you're right, of course. But how is the boy getting here, Dumbledore?" She eyed his cloak suddenly as though she thought he might be hiding Harry underneath it.

"Hagrid's bringing him."

"You think it — wise — to trust Hagrid with something as im-portant 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?"

A low rumbling broken the silence,growing steadily louder as they looked up and down the street for the sign of a headlight swelling to a roar as they looked up at the sky — and a huge motorcycle fell out of the air and landed on the road in front of them. If the motorcycle was huge, it had nothing on 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"

"No problems, were there?"

"No, sir , house was almost destroyed, but I got him out all right before the Muggles started swarmin' around. He fell asleep as we was flyin' over Bristol."

Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall bent forward over the bundle of blankets. Inside, just visible, was a baby boy, fast asleep. Under a tuft of jet-black hair over his forehead they could see a curiously shaped cut, like a bolt of lightning.

"Is that where — ?" whispered Professor McGonagall.

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

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

"Even if I could, I wouldn't. Scars can come in handy. I have one

myself above my left knee that is a perfect map of the London Underground. Well — give him here, Hagrid — we'd better get this over with."

Taking the boy he turned to McGonagall, and she made a decision to change the boys future."Which house was the Dursleys"

"The right"

"Could I — could I say good-bye to him, sir?" asked Hagrid. He bent his great, shaggy head over Harry and gave him what must have been a very scratchy, whiskery kiss. Then, suddenly, Hagrid let out a howl like a wounded dog.

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

"S-s-sorry," sobbed Hagrid, taking out a large, spotted handkerchief and burying his face in it. "But I c-c-can't stand it — Lily an'

James dead — an' poor little Harry off ter live with Muggles —"

"Yes, yes, its all very sad, but get a grip on yourself, Hagrid, or we'll be found," Professor McGonagall whispered, patting Hagrid 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'd best get this bike away. G'night, Professor McGonagall — Professor Dumble-

dore, sir."

A loud wale turning their attention back to the child as it cried, as a bright light came through the doorway and a large figure stood looming over the tiny child purched on his doorstep.

"Oi who's baby is this. I don't know this child"