Chapter Text
Privet drive was very dark on this night our story starts. So dark in fact that one couldn't see anything if one was to look out of their window, even beady eyed Mrs Dursley. Conveniently so, because the figures on the street didn't want to be seen.
Professor McGonagall and, a still teary eyed, Hagrid departed - leaving professor Dumbledore with the young baby.
"Good luck, Harry," Dumbledore muttered. Then he turned around and walked down the street. After returning the light to the street lamps, he too disappeared – so suddenly it was as though he vanished into thin air.
Not over 5 miles away, a cloaked figure stumbled towards the Little Whinging foster home, in his arms there were two little baby girls – who were laying together wrapped in a bundle of blankets.
The figure knelt down, "I'm sorry," he said with sadness evident in his voice, "You know I loved them, you know I love you, all of you," the figure started to tremble. "If I had a choice I would keep you, but I have to go. I would take you with me but it's dangerous. You two will be safest here – take care of each other."
The cloaked figure slowly laid the two, now crying, babies on the front doorstep in a little basked, "These letters will explain everything, and in time I hope you will understand why..." he breathed out heavily, "...Why I had to do this." And with that he bent down to give the babies a final kiss on each of their foreheads.
Then he was gone.
The two babies lay there, no longer crying but, waiting. Waiting to hear his voice again – to find comfort in his words. Not knowing they were special, not knowing that they would grow up into great and powerful young women. Completely unaware of the traffic passing by.
Unaware that in just 5 hours Mrs McDonald would open the front door and find them, laying there, completely alone.