Chapter Text
Sirius glanced down at the infant in his arms, nervously tapping his foot as he waited for the phone held up to his ear to connect.
He had been unsure of the technology when Lily had suggested it, all wizards were wary of technology after all, but on hearing it would keep Harry safe he had readily agreed.
He had just hoped the time to use it would never come.
Suddenly, the phone connected, startling Sirius out of his thoughts. A curious voice sounded, “Padfoot?”
“Princess! You have to come to England right now.” His voice sharp with worry, “He who shall not be named is gone but Harry is in danger.”
“What of Prongs and Doe?” Annabeth asked in a rush.
“Gone. They’re going to blame me princess, I was supposed to be the secret keeper! I can’t protect Harry and I don’t trust anyone else with him.” Sirius said.
“I’ll get Seaweed Brain and we’ll be right there.” Annabeth replied, and the line went dead.
Sirius worried his bottom lip, glancing around as he dropped the phone to the floor and stamped on it.
Suddenly, the shadows beside him moved and Percy and Annabeth dropped out of the shadows with their hellhound.
Sirius hurried to them and pushed Harry into Percy’s arms, “Look, don’t believe what they say, it was Peter who betrayed the Potters! I’m going after him, the Order will send someone after Harry so you had better get him out of here quick.”
Percy and Annabeth glanced at each other before nodding.
“Yeah, we believe you would never betray them. We’ll raise Harry as a wizard somewhere safe.” Annabeth said, already stepping back towards Mrs O’Leary.
Sirius nodded, “Don’t let him grow up thinking I was a murderer. Please.”
“We won’t.” This time it was Percy who spoke.
There was a sound down the street and all three turned, both demigods moving into protective positions as they laid eyes on the half-giant.
Sirius shook his head and cried, “Just go!”
The two demigods grabbed hold of Mrs O’Leary, the cries of an infant suddenly echoing around the street before stopping abruptly as if they had never been there in the first place.
Hagrid stepped warily down the street, but Sirius spoke first, “Harry is in a safe place believe me. Take my motorbike and go tell Dumbledore, I won’t be needing it after this.”
Sirius turned and ran, leaving Hagrid to climb onto the motorbike empty-handed and begin the long journey to no. 4 Privet Drive, where he would have to tell Dumbledore he had lost the child.
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.”
“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 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 lemon drop?”
“A what?”
“A lemon drop. 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 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 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.”
“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.”
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 they’re 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 lemon drop 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 are — are — that they’re — 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.
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. 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.” 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.”
“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’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, sitting back down on the wall. “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 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 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 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?”
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. 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.
McGonagall frowned at the sky dubiously, “He doesn’t seem to be carrying anything.”
Dumbledore easily waved off her concerns, “Now, now, Hagrid knows the importance of his task, I am assured he won’t have failed.”
Hagrid leapt off of the motorbike, hurrying over before Dumbledore could say anything.
“It was young Sirius Black!”
“Who did what?” Dumbledore asked, his calm façade slipping slightly.
“He ‘anded him over to somebody else, sir. All I saw were two young’uns. They disappeared with young ‘arry!”
McGonagall glanced at the headmaster worriedly, seeing the small flash of annoyance that swept across his features.
“We need to find Sirius Black.” Dumbledore said.
“He, uh,” Hagrid mumbled, unsure of himself.
Dumbledore snapped back, “He what?”
“He said young ‘arry was safe with them.” Hagrid finished, staring at his shoes.
Before Dumbledore could say anything else, McGonagall laid a calming hand on his arm and Dumbledore sighed heavily.
“It’s fine, lets go we can’t just stay here all night. As soon as Sirius Black is located I want to know who the hell he sent Harry to.”
He clicked the lights back into their bulbs and apparated away, without so much as a goodbye.
McGonagall tutted, “Don’t worry too much about him Hagrid. I trust young Sirius’ judgement so we can only assume he is safe.”
Hagrid sniffed and nodded, climbing back onto the motorbike, and kicking off once more, pointed in the direction of Hogwarts.
McGonagall was left standing outside of number 4 Privet Drive.
“I really hope Harry is in a better place than this.” She murmured to herself before transforming back into her cat form and bounding away to observe the evening frivolities.
With baby Harry once again settled in Percy’s arms, the young couple sat across the table from Sally and Paul.
“I can’t believe James and Lily are gone.” Sally murmured sadly, unable to get over the fact the only living relative she had discovered was now dead.
Percy nodded, gazing down at the small infant held tightly to him, “Its only Harry now. We have to take him in, Sirius entrusted him to us.”
“We can’t afford to raise another child.” Sally replied leaning against Paul, voice heavy and defeated.
“We could raise him.” Annabeth’s voice was small, barely more than a whisper as she stared resolutely at the table in front of her.
The other three members of her family all looked at her, Percy replying with a voice full of wonder, “Our first child Wise Girl.”
Sally nodded thoughtfully, “That could work. But dears, what about your plans for college?”
Percy smiled confidently, “We can definitely manage it. Wise Girl is amazing!”
Annabeth chuckled and nudged Percy with her shoulder, “You’re pretty amazing too. We can get through it. Together.”
The small family sat in silence for a few minutes, absorbing their change in plans as well as allowing time to mourn.
Finally, Annabeth broke the silence, “Sally, Lily mentioned having a sister in a few of our conversations. They weren’t on the best of terms, apparently her sister wasn’t very fond of her and her choice of husband, but maybe someday in the future you would like to reach out to her? After all she is still related to you.”
Sally smiled, albeit very watery, “Thank you dear, I shall think about it perhaps when Harry is older. For now, you two had better be going to bed. We will dig ‘Stell’s old cot out for Harry in the morning. For now I think it’s best if he sleeps on someone.”
Percy yawned and nodded, standing carefully and kissing his mum on the head before taking Annabeth’s hand, “Oh and mum, don’t forget to tell Estelle when she gets up, I don’t want her jumping on Harry by accident.”
Sally chuckled and waved them off.
When they reached the bedroom Percy collapsed onto the bed, the still sleeping Harry still lying on his chest.
Annabeth chuckled and lay down next to her boyfriend, hands still clasped together, “He looks a lot like you Seaweed Brain.”
Percy moved his head slightly and eyed the baby critically, “He does, that's funny!"
Annabeth turned her head to look at him, “Seaweed Brain… you do want to raise Harry don’t you? I don’t want to feel like I’m forcing this on you and ruining plans you had for the future.”
Percy shook his head vehemently and turned slightly too, “I want everything you want Wise Girl, and I want to raise Harry together. He deserves a proper family.”
Annabeth smiled in the darkened room, and they moved closer together, lips almost meeting as Harry suddenly began to scream.
Percy chuckled tiredly and stood, slowly rocking the exhausted infant back to sleep as he sung a calming sea shanty under his breath.
Once Harry was finally asleep Percy crawled next to Annabeth, gently placing the boy down between them.
“He already has a scar.” Annabeth remarked, glancing at Harry’s forehead.
Percy chuckled darkly, “Already taking after us then.” Before reaching across the baby to grab Annabeth’s hand.
They fell asleep like that, arms draped protectively across Harry, who slumbered peacefully in between them.
And just like that, Harry Potter had a new family.