Summary: Dumbledore is dead. Harry ran away from the Dursley's before getting his Hogwarts letter. Who will save the magical world now?
Rating: PG
Categories: Alternate Universe
Characters: None
Genres: None
Warnings: None
Challenges: None
Series: None
Published: 2012.04.25
Updated: 2012.07.18
Alone by coastwatcher
Chapter 1: Chapter One: Beginnings and Endings
Author's Notes: In midsummer, 1996, two armies faced each other across a field in New Forest National Park, 80 miles southwest of London, ready for a battle that could decide the future of wizarding Britain. Years of planning, scheming, alliance building, Imperiusing, and propagandizing had led to this encounter, which--whatever the outcome--would be remembered by witches and wizards for centuries to come.
On the west side of the field, largely hidden in the forest, were the Dark Lord's forces made up of Death Eaters and Death Eatresses, giants and werewolves, vampires and Acromantulas, Dementors and one large snake. On the eastern side, partly sheltered by a rock wall built by farmers who had plowed this field for eons, were the Dark Lady's forces, including wizards and witches who the Daily Prophet had dubbed Light Eaters, centaurs and goblins, house elves, and a few other strange and unusual creatures.
In the middle of the field, a little off to the side of the direct line of impending conflict, stood a large tent, at least 60 feet long and 30 feet wide. On the forest end of the tent the evening light revealed the Dark Lord's colours, a green flag with a silver snake. On the end nearer the rock wall waved the Dark Lady's colours, a silver flag with two intertwined green snakes.
Deep in the forest, hidden from the field by countless moss-covered trees, a man with reddish eyes, slit nostrils, and a vaguely snake-like face sat on a silver chair with green plush upholstery surrounded by his most important warriors and lieutenants. As night fell, a man in standard Death Eater garb--a dark green, almost black, robe with a silver mask--came and bowed before the man seated in the throne.
"What is your report, Dolohov?"
"My Lord, our scouts tell us that your army outnumbers the Dark Lady's forces by at least four to one."
"I knew it," said a woman whose curly, dark hair flowed over her robes. "She is no threat to you. We should attack now, before she can get reinforcements."
"Easy, Bella," said the man on the throne. "We attack on my command, only. Is there any way the Dark Lady can know the disparity between the two armies?"
"Impossible! Except for a picket line located at the edge of the forest, all of your loyal followers are located too deep within the forest for her scouts to see. The Ministry's anti-Apparition wards keep out spies and we have enough people on the picket line that no one could pass undetected."
"You see, Bella?" said the man with the red eyes. "She does not know her peril, so she is not likely to seek reinforcements. Besides, where would they come from?
"Dolohov," he said turning to the man in front of him, "late tonight, when most of her camp is asleep, have the Aurors circle around behind her army. When the battle begins, they can attack from behind and we will capture her army in a trap."
"It shall be done, my Lord."
As Dolohov left, the snake-like man stood and turned to the members of his inner circle. "Tomorrow morning, we will meet with the Dark Lady as planned. You know the rules of parley: no one may magically attack the other side under penalty of losing their magic. I am allowed to bring six of my followers with me, and I choose Bella, Rodolphus, Yaxley, Greyback, Rastufas the vampire, and of course Nagini." The five humans and part humans bowed their heads in acknowledgement of the honour.
"I do not know what the Dark Lady expects to accomplish with this parley. But we will listen respectfully. If I decide she is wasting our time, I will use the words, 'Harry Potter.' On that signal, Yaxley, I want you to use the Avadra Kedavra on the Dark Lady."
Yaxley paled slightly, but bowed and said, "My Lord, I will be honored to give up my magic for your victory."
"Do not worry, Yaxley," the Dark Lord lied. "I know a ritual that can restore your magic after we win the battle. They will no doubt attempt to retaliate, and the rules of parley will fall allowing us all to join the battle. Bella, at that moment, I want you to send a Patronus message to Dolohov telling him to attack."
Suddenly, a blood-curdling shriek could be heard through the trees coming from the other side of the field. Although the Dark Lady's camp was at least a half-mile away, the woman's screams sounded as if they were coming from a few feet away. They continued for more than a minute before dying away. Some of the lower-ranked Death Eaters looked around fearfully. Bella, however, just grinned.
"The parley must have been a diversion," said the witch eagerly. "We should attack now!"
"No, Bella," said the Dark Lord, who was slowly waving his wand toward the apparent source of the noise. "The Dark Lady knows that the rules of parley would hold until both sides cast a spell in anger. If we attack, any Death Eaters who cast a spell would lose their magic. As long as they refrain from responding with offensive spells of their own, our forces would be steadily diminished. She probably hopes we will attack so that we might weaken our forces."
A few minutes later, another scream could be heard, this time coming from a man, from the direction of the rock wall. After a minute, the screams ceased, and Dolohov came running into the Dark Lord's clearing.
"My Lord," he said, bowing hastily, "all of the people we set out on the picket line are either gone or petrified. We haven't been able to revive the ones who were petrified."
"How many are missing?" said the red-eyed man.
"A dozen, my Lord, and ten more are petrified. No one other than those on the picket line were within sight of the line, so no one knows what happened except those who were petrified, and they aren't talking."
"Very well. Continue trying to revive the petrified Death Eaters, and when you succeed, crucio them for failing their duty. Then put up two picket lines, one at the edge of the forest and one in the forest close enough to spy on the front picket line. Make sure the back line is visible from our main forces so no one can be taken without us knowing."
"Yes, my Lord, it shall be done."
Over the next hour, whilst many in the camp were trying to sleep, the Dark Lord's army was treated to ten more howls of someone being tortured for at least a minute, each separated by several minutes of silence. Many Death Eaters and even some of the werewolves trembled in fear and wonder at the sounds, and fretted at their fate should the unthinkable happen and the Dark Lord's forces lose to the Dark Lady's. But the vampires and Acromantula were unconcerned, and the giants seemed to think that the sounds were simply a part of the evening's entertainment for their benefit.
Some of the Death Eaters had a personal stake in the sounds. Gresham Goyle was unnerved when he recognized the shrieks of the fourth victim as his son, Gregory Goyle. He had all night to reflect how he had failed his son and, on the chance that his son survived, what he might do to make it up to him. His friend Victor Crabbe had his own worries, as his son Vincent was one of the sentries who was petrified. The healers told him that he could only be revived once they had a potion made with Mandrake roots, and that it would take several days, at least, to acquire the ingredients and make such a potion. If the Dark Lord won tomorrow's battle, his son would awaken only to be crucioed, possibly to death depending on the Dark Lord's mood at that moment.
Meanwhile, in the tent, personnel from the Ministry of Magic were making the final arrangements for the morning's parley. Officially, the Dark Lord and Dark Lady were both supposed to be criminals, but everyone knew that key members of the Ministry were either sympathetic to or in the Dark Lord's pocket. If the Dark Lady had any friends in the Ministry, they had kept themselves under cover. In matters of parley, the Ministry was designated as the official neutral party, and whilst some hoped that the Dark Lord would prevail over the Dark Lady, and others were Imperiused to support the Dark Lord as well, others might just be hoping that the two sides would simply wipe each other out so that the Ministry could once again take its rightful place as the sole leader of British wizarding society.
Two tables nearly the full width of the tent faced one another across a 20-foot space. Behind each table were seven chairs, whilst the space between the tables was considered neutral ground, and no one was allowed to enter it without the permission of the other side. If someone did so, Ministry Unspeakables could stun them without violating the rules of parley. At one side of the neutral zone was an arch through which some said they could hear the whisperings of people, whilst other heard screams and most heard nothing at all. The arch was traditionally used to summarily execute any who violated the parley, though the Unspeakables were under no delusions that they actually had the numbers to enforce that rule.
The sun was just below the horizon at 6:45 am the next morning when the Dark Lord and his six closest associates entered his end of the tent and were greeted by Ministry Senior Undersecretary Dolores Umbridge. "Welcome, my Lord," she said. "You know the rules of parley. Please take your seats at the table and place your wands and any other weapons on the table in front of you. Six Ministry personnel will remain here as neutral observers," she added with a smirk.
"It is good we arrived first," the Dark Lord told his followers, "so we can better know the layout." Of course, the two parties had agreed to the layout in advance, but seeing it in reality was always a little different from seeing it on a piece of parchment. "Bella, please sit on my left, followed by Rodolphus and Yaxley. Nagini will be to my immediate right, followed by Greyback and Rastufas." Yaxley looked a little nervous at being so close to the arch, and he hoped the unspeakable wouldn't have a chance to push him through it when he, at his Lord's orders, violated the parley.
A few minutes later, they could hear the loud clop-clop-clop of hoofs on cobblestone pavement, which was strange as the fields were just dirt and grass as far as the rock wall. The clopping continued to get louder for several minutes, and Rufus Scrimgeour, the head of Magical Law Enforcement, stepped through the tent door to greet the Dark Lady.
Outside, he was blinded by the rising sun over the eastern hills. But he could distinguish the approach of five creatures of varying heights. On the far left was a centaur, at least eight feet tall, somehow making the noise of a dozen horses on pavement. Then was something that looked like a lion--Merlin, could it be a Manticore? Fortunately, no one noticed Scrimgeour turning pale. In the middle was a human, not particularly tall, cloaked in robes. To the right were two even shorter creatures, which Scrimgour presumed were goblins. As they came closer, however, he realized the smallest was a house elf.
"My Lady," he said respectfully to the person in the middle, who he expected to be much taller. "The rules of parley allow you six companions, yet I see only four. Do you think this is wise?"
At his words, the Dark Lady waved her hand and a small snake slithered off of her arm and grew to be six feet long--a Basalisk! "I am well protected," the Dark Lady said.
"Then you may enter," said a pale-looking Scrimgeour. "You know the rules of parley. Please take your seats at the table and place wands and other weapons on the table in front of you."
The Dark Lady took the center seat and the goblin and elf took the seats on the far right leaving a large gap between them and the Lady. The snake slithered to her immediate left, but the centaur noisily marched in and stood on far left, with the Manticore between the centaur and snake. The Dark Lady put not one but two wands and a shortsword on the table, then pulled out a longsword--the Dark Lord couldn't see where it came from--and laid it beside the shortsword.
"Good morning, Tom," she said.
"Good morning, Ginevra," said the Dark Lord. "Let's parley."
* *
* * *
Vernon Dursley proudly turned his Vauxhall Astra past the faded billboard advertising the development he lived in--"Little Whinging: Where You Will Hear Little Whinging!"--turned onto Privet Drive and into the driveway of his home. His home. Thanks to his hard work and diligence, he was an assistant director at Grunnings, an important tool-making company, earning enough money that he and his wife Petunia were recently able to buy their first single-family home--complete with three bedrooms--quite an accomplishment in England, which had some of the most expensive housing in the world.
Of course, land prices were so high that they didn't have much of a yard, and their garage butted up against their neighbor's home. But at least the living area of their home shared no common walls with anyone else's, so they didn't have to listen to the sounds from the flat next door, like in the terrace home where Vernon grew up. In the back of his mind, Vernon knew he was a long way from the large manor-style home on an acre lot that was the dream of every Englishman. But only the upper classes could afford such things, and he supposed everyone couldn't live that way or all of England would be paved over.
But he wasn't thinking about such things as he climbed out of his car. Instead, he was thinking about taking his precious Duddikins, who reached his second birthday a few weeks ago, on his first Halloween trick-or-treating ever. He was sure that Dudley would appreciate all the candy that could be collected from the neighbors. One advantage of living on small lots was that there were a lot of neighbors living close by!
"Daaaa!" cried Dudley when Vernon walked in the front door. Duddikins was wearing his purple bathrobe, on which Petunia had pinned some blue and green stars and a large, yellow, crescent moon. Vernon noticed a conical hat made out of purple construction paper sitting on the breakfast table.
"What is your Halloween guise, little man?" he asked.
"I'se a wizard!" said Dudley.
Vernon looked at Petunia a little nervously. "Are you sure this is a safe guise?"
"Why not?" she said. "We haven't seen any of them in years." She turned from the kitchen counter, where she was making dinner, and looked at him a little shyly. "I guess, for most people, Halloween is a time to pretend they believe in things they think aren't real. For me, it is a time to pretend that things I know are real are really just pretend."
He gave her a reassuring hug, a bit surprised that she had thought so deeply about this. After a quick kiss, she turned away and said, "You received a letter from the States, someone named Stephan Thomason. Wasn't he your roommate in school?"
"Yes, he moved to Florida, where I think he is still only a salesman," Vernon smirked as he glanced through the letter. Although Thomason couldn't be earning as much money as Vernon was, he said he lived on an acre lot outside of Tallahassee, and thought nothing of driving his kids 200 miles to DisneyWorld in Orlando.
How could Americans afford to drive so much? The price of petrol was now £1.60 per gallon, so he only drove about a mile to the train station, where he parked and took the train to work. Vernon didn't like to admit it, but between his mortgage, petrol, and the high cost of groceries and clothing for his growing Duddikins, they were barely making ends meet. But if he worked hard and kept his nose clean, in a few years he would be promoted to a director, giving him a significant pay raise, so he didn't worry too much.
Vernon put down the letter and looked at his son. "Are you ready to go trick-or-treating?" he asked.
"Daaa! Tweaty!" yelled Dudley. As they walked out the door passed a fat jack-o-lantern that Vernon had carved the night before, he grabbed a Mars bar from the basket of candy Petunia had ready for any neighbor kids who came by. He looked down at his bulging waistline and realized he probably shouldn't eat candy before dinner, but he figured a stout body was just one more sign of success.
* *
* * *
Many miles away, in the West Country, another young family wasn't thinking about trick-or-treating. For one thing, their son, Harry, was only fifteen months old. For another, they were in hiding from an evil man who wanted to kill them. They thought they were safe in this cottage--which was actually bigger and on more land than the Dursley's home--but they weren't.
James was reading in the living room whilst Lily was studying old books of magic charms. They had already fought the evil man, who called himself Lord Voldemort even though he wasn't really a lord, three times, and Lily hoped that her expertise in spell creation would help protect them in any future battles.
Suddenly they heard the distinctive sounds of Apparition, followed by the crash of a Bludgeoning spell hitting their front door. "Lily, it's him!" shouted James. "Take Harry and go--I'll try to hold him off."
Lily ran upstairs to grab Harry from his crib, but when she got there she found she was unable to Apparate away. Someone must have put an anti-Apparition spell over the house.
James ran through the archway to the kitchen, standing where he could see the front doorway but where he would be shielded by a wall from anyone who entered. With a loud bang, the front door collapsed, and James fired several spells at the person who came in. The wizard, however, quickly deflected them.
"This is your last chance, boy," he drawled, "Join me or die!"
"Never!" shouted James.
"I thought you would say that," said Voldemort. With a powerful "Evanesco," much of the wall shielding James disappeared. The dark wizard was surprised to see James running toward him with his wand in his left hand and a sword in his right. Voldemort cast a Diffindo at James' arm, but James deflected it with the sword. Before James could strike the invader with the sword, however, Voldemort casually said, "Avada Kedavra," and James fell over dead.
The Dark Lord picked up the sword. "Godric Gryffindor," he read just below the hilt. "The perfect object for my next Horcrux," he thought as he turned to the stairway.
Upstairs, Lily held her sleeping Harry in her arms as she listened to the battle below. When she heard the last spell followed by a soft thud, her eyes closed in grief. As she heard the footsteps of someone coming up the stairs, she did the only thing she knew that might protect her son.
"I love you, Harry," she said softly. "I would die that you may live." She put him back in the crib, took out her wand, and said, "Mors Vivo." Then she turned and blocked the entrance to the doorway with her body.
"Out of the way, girl," said Voldemort.
"No. You can't have Harry. Kill me instead."
"You need not die," said the man. "I only want your son."
"No," she repeated. "You can't have Harry. Kill me instead."
"As you wish. Avada Kedavra!" Lily died in an instant.
"So, this is the boy who is supposed to kill me," the wizard said. Harry looked up at him sleepily. "Scindo animus," said the wizard, casting the spell for creating a horcrux. Now, all he had to do was stare at the sword after killing Harry, and a portion of his soul would enter the sword, helping to insure his own immortality.
The wizard then dispassionately pointed his wand at Harry and quietly said, "Avada Kedavra." But instead of killing the boy, the spell bounced off Harry and returned to Voldemort. The last thing the dark wizard saw was a jagged cut on Harry's forehead. The last thing he felt was excruciating pain as his soul was split in two, part of it entering the object at which he gazed, and part of it lost to this earth forever. As Harry began crying in pain, Tom Riddle collapsed to the floor.
Across Great Britain, several objects that contained fragments of Voldemort's soul woke up--and awaited their opportunity.
* *
* * *
"You outdid yourself in decorating for Hallowe'en this year, Hagrid," said Albus Dumbledore in his office some 500 miles to the north. Hagrid was about to answer when he noticed an instrument in Dumbledore's office begin to spin and flash. The headmaster looked up in alarm.
"What is it, perfessor?"
Dumbledore turned pale. "The Fidelius charm on the Potter's home has fallen," he said. "Come, Hagrid; I could use a good hand." As fast as they could, they walked down the headmaster's spiral stairway, to the front entry hall, out the door, and through the gates. When they were beyond the Apparition ward, Hagrid held out his hand. Dumbledore wrapped his hand around one of the half-giant's fingers, and Apparated them to Godric's Hollow.
Peter Pettigrew watched the house after Voldemort entered. He saw the spell flashes on the ground floor, ending in a green flash. Then he saw two green flashes through an upstairs window--then, nothing. After a few minutes, he entered the house to see his old friend James lying on the floor. "You never thought I had it in me, did you James?" he said scornfully.
Then he went upstairs, where he was sorry to see Lily's body on the floor in the hallway. The Dark Lord had promised he would try to spare her life. She had always been nice to Wormtail when others were making fun of him.
Stepping across the body, he was stunned to see Voldemort lying on the floor. "Master!" he cried, kneeling beside the body, but he soon determined that the man was dead. He picked up Voldemort's wand, but before he could turn his attention to a crying Harry, he heard a very loud crack of Apparition outside the house. Since Voldemort's anti-Apparition spell had fallen when the dark wizard died, Peter figured that caution was the better part of valor and he Apparated away.
Dumbledore stumbled when he and Hagrid arrived in Godric's Hollow. Only a powerful wizard could Apparate 500 miles; only the most powerful could side-along Apparate that distance. Dumbledore was very powerful, but then, he wasn't used to side-along Apparating with someone as large as Hagrid. He wondered if it was such a good idea to bring his groundskeeper along. Hagrid would be good in a fight with ordinary Death Eaters, but Dumbledore would have to be up to his full strength if they were facing Voldemort himself.
Hagrid had been to the Potters' cottage before, but not since the Fidelius spell had been cast. He thought he would only be able to see an empty field, but apparently the spell had died with James and Lily, for there was the house, with a hole in one of the second-story walls.
They cautiously entered the house, where Dumbledore was saddened but not surprised to see James' body on the floor. What did surprise him was the noise of a baby crying upstairs. "Stay here and watch for Death Eaters, Hagrid," he instructed, then rushed up the stairs much faster than a man of his apparent age should have been able to go.
He could immediately see that both Lily and Tom were dead. Stepping over their bodies, he picked up Harry, who was still crying from the lightning-bolt-shaped cut on his forehead. Dumbledore cast a healing charm on the cut, but noticed that even his magic could not prevent a scar from forming. Just then, he heard a motorcycle pull up outside.
Sirius was alarmed when he saw the front door smashed open and the hole in the upstairs wall. "James, Lily!" he cried as he ran up the stairs to the front door, only to run into Hagrid's large form.
"Sirius, I'm sorry. There's nothin' you can do. James is gone, and I'd afraid Lily is too," said Hagrid.
"What? He promised to protect them!"
"Dumbledore did his best; he's a great man, Dumbledore. But somehow, You-Know-Who found them anyway," said Hagrid.
"Not Dumbledore. The rat! He promised to protect them. I'll kill him." Sirius turned and Apparated away just as Dumbledore was carrying a sleepy Harry down the stairs.
"Harry's alive!" shouted Hagrid.
"Yes, and even more strange, Tom Riddle--Voldemort--is dead. It appears that Tom cast the killing curse on Harry, and it somehow killed Tom instead. All Harry has to show for it is this lightning-bolt-shaped scar. Unfortunately, Lily is also dead."
"That's wonderful!" said Hagrid. "I mean, wonderful about You-Know-Who being dead, not wonderful about Lily."
"Who was at the door, Hagrid?"
"Sirius Black, James' best friend."
"Sirius? He was supposed to be the secret-keeper for the Fidelius spell. What did he say?"
"He said something about someone else promising to protect James and Lily, and then he Apparated away."
"If Tom broke through the Fidelius spell, he must have had the help of the secret-keeper. Tom must have promised Sirius he wouldn't harm James or Lily. But why would Sirius believe such a promise?"
"Sirius loved Harry, too," said Hagrid. "What would possess him to tell Tom where the Potters were hiding? And why would he leave that motorbike? He loved that motorbike, he did."
"I don't know, Hagrid. Perhaps he had to get somewhere faster than he could go on the motorbike. I have to go, too, to talk to the Ministry and let them know what happened. Maybe the Aurors can find some answers. Can you ride Sirius' motorbike and take Harry to Hogwarts?"
"Of course, perfessor. There's plenty of room for Harry in the sidecar."
"Don't let anyone see Harry. There may be some Death Eaters still about who will want revenge. I'll find a family who will care for him, and I'll send you an owl to have you bring Harry there."
"Yes, perfessor." Hagrid mounted the motorbike, and Dumbledore placed the now-sleeping toddler in the sidecar. Dumbledore then turned and Apparated away. As Hagrid started the motorcycle, he noticed some muggles swarming up the street, apparently attracted by the lights and noise from a cottage that, until a few minutes ago, had been invisible to them. To avoid them, Hagrid put the bike in flying mode and headed north.
* *
* * *
"Molly!" Molly Weasley turned, her three-month-old daughter on her hip, surprised to see her husband step from the fireplace and dust ashes from his robe so soon after he Flooed to work. "Great news," he said, when he had her attention. "You-Know-Who is dead."
"What?"
"Apparently, he went after James and Lily Potter. Sadly, he murdered them." Molly's hand went to her mouth and she gasped. "But when he tried to kill their son, Harry, the curse somehow bounced back and killed You-Know-Who instead."
"Where did you hear this?" asked Molly.
"Dumbledore came to the Ministry late last night. The word is spreading fast."
"What about poor Harry Potter? Who will take care of him with James and Lily gone? Wait a minute. Wasn't Sirius Black Harry's godfather? He was such a womanizer. He'd never make a good guardian for Harry."
"That may not be important. The word I hear was that Sirius betrayed the Potters' location to You-Know-Who. The Ministry is after him, and when they find him, they'll probably send him straight to Azkaban."
Arthur gazed fondly into the living room where several of their sons--Bill was off at Hogwarts--were playing or studying the lessons Molly was giving them.
"You know what this means, don't you Arthur? Our children will grow up in a world without fear. Maybe even a world without the kind of pureblood prejudice that You-Know-Who stood for."
"I hope so, dear. Well, I'd better Floo back to the office. As word spreads, there will be a lot of wizards and witches celebrating today--and that will probably mean lots of work for us in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office."
They kissed each other good-bye and Arthur disappeared into the green flames.
* *
* * *
Hagrid looked up as an owl arrived through the window of his groundskeeper's cottage--hut, really, but Hagrid liked to think of it as a cottage. He gave the owl a piece of bacon and read the note the bird had delivered: "Meet me tonight at 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey, A. Dumbledore."
Hagrid and Harry had arrived before dawn. Hagrid didn't know much about taking care of toddlers, but he knew Harry would be hungry when he woke up, so he immediately prepared breakfast. Sure enough, Harry quickly ate the porridge and pumpkin juice that Hagrid offered, but for some reason wasn't interested in Hagrid's rock cakes.
Harry was enjoying playing on the floor with Hagrid's dog, Grue. But Hagrid knew Harry would be hungry again soon, and he didn't have much in the way of lunch for a 15-month-old child. He figured most of the students and teachers would be in the Great Hall for lunch, so he decided to go to the kitchens and see if the elves had anything suitable for Harry.
It was a risk, though; he knew it wasn't safe to leave a toddler alone in the cottage, but Dumbledore had asked him to not let anyone know Harry was with him. As luck would have it, he only met one person on the way to the kitchens: Deputy Headmistress McGonagall. Fortunately, Hagrid was so tall that whatever he was cradling in his arm was out of sight of the professor.
"Rubeus," she said, "have you seen the headmaster? He has been absent all morning."
"He's at the Ministry, perfessor. Have you heard th' news? You-Know-Who is dead!"
"What? Are you sure?"
"Yes. Unfortunately, he killed James and Lily Potter, but managed to die hisself when he tried t' kill 'arry. The headmaster and I were at their house last night to examine the bodies. Perfessor Dumbledore probably has the Aurors there now."
Professor McGonagall was alternately elated and horrified at the news. But before Hagrid turned away, she noticed he looked like he was trying to shield something from her eyes.
"What are you carrying, Rubeus?"
"Just a haunch of deer meat," he said as he hastened off. "I'm taken' it down to the kitchen fer the house elves to cook up fer me."
"Wait, Rubeus," she said. "You dropped something." But Hagrid was gone. She looked at the parchment, which read, "Meet me tonight at 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey, A. Dumbledore." As she pondered this message, it occurred to her that Hagrid had not said anything about whether the Potters' son, Harry, had survived the attack.
On a hunch, Professor McGonagall Apparated to Privet Drive after dinner and transformed to her Animagus form so she could observe the neighborhood without attracting attention from the muggles. A gentle autumn breeze blew through the young trees that fronted the homes. The cat sniffed disapprovingly at the smashed jack-o-lanterns smeared on the street and the streams of paper decorating some of the houses and trees.
After several hours, her keen feline eyes spotted a man walking up the drive despite the fact that the streetlights went out as he passed each one. When he approached within speaking distance, she transformed back into her human form. "Ah, I thought that was you, Professor McGonagall."
"Is it true what they are saying, Albus? That James and Lily are dead? I don't want to believe it."
"I know, I know, it is hard."
"And what about Harry? They say Voldemort died trying to kill the Potters' son." Dumbledore nodded. "It's true? How could this happen?"
"We may never know," said the headmaster.
"Is Harry all right?"
"Yes. I am here to leave Harry with his aunt and uncle. They're the only family he has left now."
"You're leaving him with muggles? These people will never understand him. He will be famous in our world."
"Exactly," said Dumbledore. "Famous for something he won't even remember. He'll be much better off growing up away from all that until he is ready to take it."
Professor McGonagall sometimes thought that the headmaster was getting senile, and never more than at this moment. But, as so many times before, she acceded to his authority.
"Where is Harry?" she asked.
"Hagrid is bringing him."
"Is that wise? I saw Hagrid today, and he was walking around with a haunch of deer meat. Or, at least," she said thoughtfully, "that's what he said it was."
"I would trust Hagrid with my life," said Dumbledore. Just then, the sound of a motorbike could be heard over the wind, and they turned to watch Hagrid descend from the sky. The big man leaned over to pick up Harry Potter from the sidecar and handed him to Professor McGonagall. "The little tyke fell asleep about the time we passed Northhampton," he said.
"Thank you, Hagrid," said Dumbledore. "Please return to Hogwarts. We'll see you there in the morning." Hagrid said good-bye to little Harry and took off.
"What are you going to do, Albus, leave the boy on the doorstep with a note?"
"Of course not," chided the headmaster as he walked up to the front step of number 4. "That wouldn't be fair to the boy, who lost his mother, or to Mrs. Dursley, who lost her sister," he said as he knocked on the door.
"Hello," said Petunia as she opened the door. "Oh--it's you. You're from that school, aren't you?"
"Yes, Mrs. Dursley. I am afraid I have some bad news."
"Not Lily?" Petunia gasped. "Is she hurt?"
"Worse than that. Both she and her husband were murdered last evening."
Petunia's eyes teared up and she stumbled back. The two Hogwarts professors took this opportunity to step inside, and Professor McGonagall closed the door against the draft. Vernon stood up from his living room chair and walked behind his wife to support her.
"I knew this. . . this magic stuff would lead to a bad end," said Petunia.
"There are bad people in our world just as there are bad people in your world," said Dumbledore gently. "No place can guarantee everyone's safety."
"You're right. I can't blame you. It's just. . . she was my best friend when we were growing up. This magic thing drove a wedge between us."
"I know it won't be much comfort to you, but the man who did this has been brought to justice. He died last night in the same attack."
"Thank you, for letting us know."
"There is one more thing. Lily's son, Harry, survived the attack. He needs his family to care for him." Professor McGonagall stepped forward with Harry in her arms. The jostling had awakened Harry, and he reached out his arms to his aunt and uncle.
"That's Lily's son?" Petunia asked. "He has her eyes."
"I hope you will take him," said Dumbledore. "You're the only family he has now."
"Yes," said Petunia, looking at her husband, whose face remained vacant. "I guess we can do that."
"Thank you. I'll be back or send someone from time to time to see how he is doing," said the white-bearded wizard. "If you need anything, you can let me or my representative know. Many of the people in our world loved Lily as much as you did, and we will want to know that her son is safe." Saying good-bye, the professors left the house.
"I hope this is okay, Vernon," Petunia half-pleaded. "He's my own flesh-and-blood. You know I couldn't turn him away."
"I know," he replied gently. "I'll be honest with you, though: money will be tight with another mouth to feed."
"We'll make it, somehow. I can save a little money with the grocery shopping."
"Do you think he is going to be, you know, freaky, like his parents?"
"I don't know. I think they told us that, just as some non-magic families have magicians like my sister, some magic families have non-magicians. We'll just have to wait and see."
* *
* * *
Bellatrix Lestrange was not happy. The Dark Lord had not returned from his expedition with Wormtail the night before, and rumors of his demise had reached the ears of the Death Eaters. Bella was out for revenge, or at least information. Voldemort's top lieutenant brought three of the most powerful other Death Eaters--her husband Rodolphus, his brother Rabastan, and Bartimous Crouch, Jr.--with her to the gates of Hogwarts.
"Our sources tell us Dumbledore was at the Ministry today and hasn't returned to the castle," she said. "He always Apparates here, so we'll ambush him when he does. Rodolphus, Rabastan, as soon as he shows up, the three of us will hit him with the killing curse. Crouch, if anyone is with him, I want you to stun them. Don't kill them--I want to interrogate them to find out what really happened to our Lord."
They didn't have long to wait. Shortly before midnight, Dumbledore and McGonagall Apparated to the gate. Suffering from a lack of sleep, Dumbledore hadn't fully recovered from side-along Apparating Hagrid to Godric's Hollow. Even then, he might have been able to fend off two attackers, but three was too many. Whilst Dumbledore quickly stunned the Lestrange brothers, Bellatrix attacked from behind him and her Avada Kedavra struck him the center of his back. Meanwhile, Crouch successfully stunned McGonagall.
Bellatrix shrieked with laughter. "I killed the great Dumbledore," she shouted, before Rennervating her husband and his brother. After Incarcerating McGonagall, she Rennervated her as well.
"Where is the Dark Lord?" she demanded.
"Dead," spat the professor. "Killed by a child. So much for your powerful lord."
"You lie!"
"I'd give up if I were you, unless you want to end up dead too."
"You sound very brave for someone who is tied up and surrounded by enemies. I killed your noble Dumbledore. Why should I be afraid of a child?"
For the first time, McGonagall noticed the fallen body of her friend and teacher, and she faltered.
"Where can I find this child?" shouted Bellatrix.
"I . . . I'll never tell you."
"Crucio!"
As Professor McGonagall writhed in pain, Rodolphus nervously approached his wife. "Dear, we should go. Crouch has conjured the Death Mark. The Aurors will be here soon."
Bellatrix spun toward Crouch. "You fool," she said, giving him a touch of Crucio. "We'll have to take her with us," she told her husband.
* *
* * *
Dumbledore told Hagrid to return to Hogwarts, but the big man thought it would be okay to go to the Hogs Head to spread the good news about the demise of You-Know-Who. Since he didn't have to worry about Harry's welfare on the trip back from Little Whinging, he was able to fly the motorbike much faster, and now he was regaling Filius Flitwick and some of the townspeople from Hogsmeade with stories about Harry's bravery.
"You-Know-Who tried to kill Harry with the killing curse, and left narry a mark on Harry other than a cute little lightning-bolt-shaped wound on his forehead," said Hagrid proudly of the child who had been in his care for a day.
Just then, someone came in the door shouting, "Call the Aurors. Someone's left the Dark Mark above the Hogwarts gate!"
Many of the people in the room jumped up to hasten home to make sure their loved ones were safe. Professor Flitwick turned to Hagrid and said, "We'd better go investigate. Some Death Eaters may be trying to break through Hogwarts' wards."
As they hurried up the road to the school, they could see the Dark Mark boiling above the entrance to the Hogwarts grounds. "The hedge rows keep anyone from getting off the road," said the little professor. "I'll put an anti-Apparition spell over the area, leaving a small unprotected zone by the gate for me to Apparate into. You stay at this end and make sure no Death Eaters leave this way."
"No one will get by me, perfessor."
"Don't take any unnecessary risks, Hagrid," said Flitwick as he performed the anti-Apparition spell. "I know you are tough, but without a wand you can't properly duel a fully trained Death Eater."
"Don't worry, perfessor. I can take care o' meself."
Bellatrix had grabbed Professor McGonagall by her hair and tried to Apparate away, but she was too late: Flitwick had already cast his anti-Apparition spell.
"Give up, Bella, you are surrounded," Professor Flitwick calmly warned.
"I killed that senile old fool, Dumbledore," she laughed. "Why would I be afraid of you?"
"Dumbledore may have been senile, but I'm not. You were never able to take me in a duel."
The four dark magicians quickly began sending killing curses and other hexes in Flitwick's direction. Flitwick had been a champion dueler partly because he two advantages over normal-sized wizards: he was a smaller target and he was much more nimble. As he dodged curses, he quickly stunned and Incarcerated Crouch, then focused his attention on defeating Bellatrix, who he judged to be the most dangerous of the three Lestranges.
Hearing the noise of the battle, Hagrid ran up the road to help. Seeing Rodolphus jump out of the way of one of Flitwick's stunners, Hagrid slapped him from behind with his open hand, knocking him out. Angered by the newcomer's treatment of her husband, Bellatrix fired a killing curse into the only part of the half-giant's body that was as vulnerable as any pureblood wizard's: his eyes. Hagrid fell heavily to the ground. But whilst Bellatrix was preoccupied with Hagrid, Professor Flitwick managed to stun and Incarcerous her. Rabastan, meanwhile, ran past Hagrid's body and, as soon as he was passed the anti-Apparition zone, disappeared.
Examining the prisoners and his friends, Flitwick was grieved to discover that, not only were Dumbledore and Hagrid dead, but Professor McGonagall had either been caught in the crossfire or deliberately murdered by one of the Death Eaters when they discovered they couldn't Apparate out. He didn't realize until much later that the only wizards and witch who could find Harry Potter were now gone.
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