Chapter Text
Privet Drive was nothing but completely still. Not even the tiny bugs within the air that night made a sound. The street was silent all except for the calls of a tiny grey tabby that had been roaming the street for the past few weeks. After a moment or so of walking, the cat found itself in front of a great bush across the street from a particular pale brown house. Out of the shadows, came an elder man with a long silver beard. He also happened to have a set of strange robes on. He walked towards the tabby and silently took his place beside it. "I should have excepted that you would be here, Professor McGonagall." The odd man whispered into the night air. The grey tabby took a few steps forward before quickly transforming into an older woman. The woman, smoothing out her dress, began to plead to the man beside her. "Please Albus, just think about what I've said. I do think that the boy should go and live with someone else. I've been watching over these people for the past few weeks and Headmaster," The woman looked to the skies and the stars within it as if they would show her the way, "With all honesty, I've got to say that they're the worst type of muggles or human beings-if you can even call them that."
Albus sighed and looked down at his hands. "Minerva, believe me when I say that Lily Potter was the nicest person that I've ever had the pleasure of meeting. I firmly believe that anyone sharing a drop of her blood could be anything less."
Suddenly, the roar of a motorcycle rang throughout the night air. The two looked at one another in understanding. Looking back to the sky, the two Professors noticed that the motorbike was fastly getting closer. The motorcycle soon crashed down onto the lawns, ruining a few gardens in the process. The man on the bike stepped off, coming to a staggering eight feet tall. Walking over to the two educators, he removed his goggles and let out cough from all the smoke. Moving slowly it seemed as if the closer he got to the Professor and Headmaster, the tighter the giant man clutched the pile of blankets he was holding. It was like he never wanted to let go. And maybe he didn't but now wasn't the time for that.
"Hagrid. As much as I'd like to say that it's good to see you, seeing as we are under such dire times we must make this quick. Professor McGonagall and I have very important places to be and even more important things to do."The Headmaster quietly said Hagrid looked down at the pile of blankets and began to tear up. "He just seems so fragile. Can't I hold 'em a little longer?" The stressed Headmaster once again looked down at his hands, hoping that they held the answers he sought in these troubling times. Alas though, he was wrong.
"Hagrid, please don't make this harder than it already is. Let's just get this through with." Handing the pile of blankets over to the Professor, the tall man started to sob into his hands. As the Headmaster began to set the pile down on the front doorstep, the blankets started to cry out. Professor McGonagall stepped in front of him and moved the sheets so she could see the child's face better.
A boy. With burning green eyes and a pile of messy, brown hair. But the one thing that stood out was the scar on the boy's forehead. Right in the shape of a lightning bolt. By now Professor McGonagall had calmed him back to sleep and gently set him back down in front of the door. "Letter, please?" Handing over a small envelope the Headmaster took a few steps back, carefully. Minerva bent down and tucked the tiny letter into the blue sheets surrounding the boy. She kissed her fingers and pressed them to his head.
"Good luck, Harry Potter."