entry 088 - hpatpprtb chapter 2b
<- Chapter 2A
Professor McGonagall shot a sharp look at Dumbledore and said, "The owls are nothing next to the rumors that are flying around. You know what everyone's saying? About why he's disappeared? About what finally stopped him?"
It was here that everyone had bowed their heads again, with Harry cradling himself around Sirius’ dog form and burying his face into the neck. He didn’t want to hear about this, didn’t want everyone to actually hear about this. He just wanted to go away, go spend time with his family, get to know his parents for the first time in his life.
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.
“I must admit, that piercing stare is actually quite scary.” Dumbledore interrupts, laughter coming out of nearly everyone.
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 rumor is that Lily and James Potter are -- are -- that they're -- dead. "
At this, Harry flinched and buried himself further into Sirius’ neck, while Sirius whimpered and Remus rubbed Harry’s back, with Hermione and Ron looking on with sadness in their eyes. James and Lily were openly crying with Minerva dabbing her eyes with a handkerchief.
Dumbledore bowed his head. Professor McGonagall gasped.
"Lily and James... I can't believe it... I didn't want to believe it...Oh, Albus..."
James smiled at learning that Minerva truly cared. He knew he shouldn’t have had his doubts, but he couldn’t help the way he felt, for sure. Lily, knowing what her husband was thinking, smiled at Minerva who gave a watery smile back.
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.
James and Lily marveled at this. They knew their son survived, of course they did, but they didn’t know how, or why, or anything about. With a glance at Albus, they notice he’s choosing to ignore them and they both look at each other curiously, wondering why the Headmaster would do something like that.
"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?"
Nearly everyone inched forward in their seats, wanting to hear the reason why.
"We can only guess," said Dumbledore. "We may never know."
After, everyone sighed in disappointment, and continued to listen as Albus read the chapter.
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.
“Professor, what kind of watch is that?” Dumbledore grinned and chuckled before replying.
“That, is a hidden secret.” Many students sighed in disappointment before getting over it.
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."
At this, James and Lily looked at Albus angrily before speaking in harsh tones.
“Albus, we said no matter what, Harry wasn’t supposed to go with them! They hate me, and in turn, would hate my baby boy!” Lily snarled, her true mother nature coming into play.
“Why didn’t he go with Sirius? Remus?” James growled, angry that their will was so blatantly ignored.
“We will talk about this l---“
“We will not talk about this later, Albus. We want an answer, now!” James shouted, slamming his fist down on the table, making many people jump in shock. Harry was one of those people, surprised that his father was so protective, and looked down at Sirius, who licked his arm before laying his head back down on Harry’s thigh and watching the argument.
“Blood magic from Lily, and we will talk about this later.” Albus said, before continuing the reading while James and Lily both looked furious.
"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."
“YOU WROTE A LETTER?!?!” James, Lily, Hermione, Molly, Tonks, Moody and Remus yelled while Sirius growled in anger, unable to actually say anything before the third book.
“Like they would read it!” Lily grumbled under her breath, crossing her arms in anger.
"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! You see how much better off he'll be, growing up away from all that until he's ready to take it?"
“Wish everyone would stop with the whole famous thing,” Harry grumbled, Umbridge, Fudge, Percy and Snape looking at him in shock. Surely Potter liked the fame?
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’d trust Hagrid with my life!’ The trio said, making Hagrid puff out his chest in pride.
I would trust Hagrid with my life," said Dumbledore.
Everyone snorted at this, not surprised that the trio and Albus both thought that.
"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. In his vast, muscular arms he was holding a bundle of blankets.
Many of the girls cooed at the words while Hagrid looked at Harry.
"Hagrid," said Dumbledore, sounding relieved. "At last. And where did you get that motorcycle?"
Many people were confused at what a motorcycle was and saw that the item was being written down on the parchment of muggle things to explain.
"Borrowed it, Professor Dumbledore, sit," said the giant, climbing carefully off the motorcycle as he spoke. "Young Sirius Black lent it to me. I've got him, sir."
“Cool!” Many people gasped, while James briefly looked at the black grim-like dog and grinned, shaking his head at the way Sirius obviously used to be.
"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."
Many of the girls cooed once more at the image, while Sirius just prodded Harry in a way to say he always fell asleep as they were flying, as Harry loved the bike. Well, he didn’t say that by the prod, he said it in a letter, but Harry knew anyways.
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."
Many people turned to stare at Harry and his scar, whilst Harry, uncomfortable with the attention, flattened his bangs and looked away blushing. Snape, surprised at the action once more, chose to ignore the evidence stating he was nothing like Potter.
"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.
“Really, Albus?” James asked and when Albus nodded, everyone awed in fascination, wondering why the headmaster would need such a map.
Well -- give him here, Hagrid -- we'd better get this over with." Dumbledore took Harry in his arms and turned toward the Dursleys' house.
"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.
Harry heard Sirius snort at that, and couldn’t hide his grin.
"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 -"
“Hagrid, you must be quiet -“Lily began
“Or you’ll be found out.” Hermione finished, the two females looking at each other in surprise before smiling lightly.
"Yes, yes, it's all very sad, but get a grip on yourself, Hagrid, or we'll be found,"
Everyone snorted at the irony of it, while Molly and Ginny Weasley looked angry, like something wasn’t going their way.
Professor McGonagall whispered, patting Hagrid gingerly 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.
While many people knew that Dumbledore no longer having a twinkle in his eyes wasn’t a good thing, nearly all of the females were angry with him for leaving Harry on a doorstep, in November no less.
"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'll be takin' Sirius his bike back. G'night, Professor McGonagall -- Professor Dumbledore, sir."
At this, Sirius whined a little bit, clearly missing his motorcycle. Harry nodded his head, remembering the bike, though barely.
Wiping his streaming eyes on his jacket sleeve, Hagrid swung himself onto the motorcycle and kicked the engine into life; with a roar it rose into the air and off into the night.
"I shall see you soon, I expect, Professor McGonagall," said Dumbledore, nodding to her. Professor McGonagall blew her nose in reply. Dumbledore turned and walked back down the street. On the corner he stopped and took out the silver Put-Outer. He clicked it once, and twelve balls of light sped back to their street lamps so that Privet Drive glowed suddenly orange and he could make out a tabby cat slinking around the corner at the other end of the street. He could
just see the bundle of blankets on the step of number four.
"Good luck, Harry," he murmured. He turned on his heel and with a swish of his cloak, he was gone.
“I’ll definitely be needing it, too.” Harry mumbled, causing Sirius to look up at him with worry.
A breeze ruffled the neat hedges of Privet Drive, which lay silent and tidy under the inky sky, the very last place you would expect astonishing things to happen. Harry Potter rolled over inside his blankets without waking up. One small hand closed on the letter beside him and he slept on, not knowing he was special, not knowing he was famous, not knowing he would be woken in a few hours' time by Mrs. Dursley's scream as she opened the front door to put out the milk bottles, nor that he would spend the next few weeks being prodded and pinched by his cousin Dudley...
“Try for the next few years.” Harry added.
He couldn't know that at this very moment, people meeting in secret all over the country were holding up their glasses and saying in hushed voices: "To Harry Potter -- the boy who lived!"
When Dumbledore finished reading, he looked up, and with his glasses down low on his nose, asked a very important question.
“Who would like to read next?” After a few minutes of silence, a voice finally came from the crowd.
“I will, Albus.” Remus Lupin said, taking the book when it flew to him.
Chapter 3 ->
Professor McGonagall shot a sharp look at Dumbledore and said, "The owls are nothing next to the rumors that are flying around. You know what everyone's saying? About why he's disappeared? About what finally stopped him?"
It was here that everyone had bowed their heads again, with Harry cradling himself around Sirius’ dog form and burying his face into the neck. He didn’t want to hear about this, didn’t want everyone to actually hear about this. He just wanted to go away, go spend time with his family, get to know his parents for the first time in his life.
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.
“I must admit, that piercing stare is actually quite scary.” Dumbledore interrupts, laughter coming out of nearly everyone.
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 rumor is that Lily and James Potter are -- are -- that they're -- dead. "
At this, Harry flinched and buried himself further into Sirius’ neck, while Sirius whimpered and Remus rubbed Harry’s back, with Hermione and Ron looking on with sadness in their eyes. James and Lily were openly crying with Minerva dabbing her eyes with a handkerchief.
Dumbledore bowed his head. Professor McGonagall gasped.
"Lily and James... I can't believe it... I didn't want to believe it...Oh, Albus..."
James smiled at learning that Minerva truly cared. He knew he shouldn’t have had his doubts, but he couldn’t help the way he felt, for sure. Lily, knowing what her husband was thinking, smiled at Minerva who gave a watery smile back.
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.
James and Lily marveled at this. They knew their son survived, of course they did, but they didn’t know how, or why, or anything about. With a glance at Albus, they notice he’s choosing to ignore them and they both look at each other curiously, wondering why the Headmaster would do something like that.
"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?"
Nearly everyone inched forward in their seats, wanting to hear the reason why.
"We can only guess," said Dumbledore. "We may never know."
After, everyone sighed in disappointment, and continued to listen as Albus read the chapter.
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.
“Professor, what kind of watch is that?” Dumbledore grinned and chuckled before replying.
“That, is a hidden secret.” Many students sighed in disappointment before getting over it.
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."
At this, James and Lily looked at Albus angrily before speaking in harsh tones.
“Albus, we said no matter what, Harry wasn’t supposed to go with them! They hate me, and in turn, would hate my baby boy!” Lily snarled, her true mother nature coming into play.
“Why didn’t he go with Sirius? Remus?” James growled, angry that their will was so blatantly ignored.
“We will talk about this l---“
“We will not talk about this later, Albus. We want an answer, now!” James shouted, slamming his fist down on the table, making many people jump in shock. Harry was one of those people, surprised that his father was so protective, and looked down at Sirius, who licked his arm before laying his head back down on Harry’s thigh and watching the argument.
“Blood magic from Lily, and we will talk about this later.” Albus said, before continuing the reading while James and Lily both looked furious.
"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."
“YOU WROTE A LETTER?!?!” James, Lily, Hermione, Molly, Tonks, Moody and Remus yelled while Sirius growled in anger, unable to actually say anything before the third book.
“Like they would read it!” Lily grumbled under her breath, crossing her arms in anger.
"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! You see how much better off he'll be, growing up away from all that until he's ready to take it?"
“Wish everyone would stop with the whole famous thing,” Harry grumbled, Umbridge, Fudge, Percy and Snape looking at him in shock. Surely Potter liked the fame?
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’d trust Hagrid with my life!’ The trio said, making Hagrid puff out his chest in pride.
I would trust Hagrid with my life," said Dumbledore.
Everyone snorted at this, not surprised that the trio and Albus both thought that.
"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. In his vast, muscular arms he was holding a bundle of blankets.
Many of the girls cooed at the words while Hagrid looked at Harry.
"Hagrid," said Dumbledore, sounding relieved. "At last. And where did you get that motorcycle?"
Many people were confused at what a motorcycle was and saw that the item was being written down on the parchment of muggle things to explain.
"Borrowed it, Professor Dumbledore, sit," said the giant, climbing carefully off the motorcycle as he spoke. "Young Sirius Black lent it to me. I've got him, sir."
“Cool!” Many people gasped, while James briefly looked at the black grim-like dog and grinned, shaking his head at the way Sirius obviously used to be.
"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."
Many of the girls cooed once more at the image, while Sirius just prodded Harry in a way to say he always fell asleep as they were flying, as Harry loved the bike. Well, he didn’t say that by the prod, he said it in a letter, but Harry knew anyways.
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."
Many people turned to stare at Harry and his scar, whilst Harry, uncomfortable with the attention, flattened his bangs and looked away blushing. Snape, surprised at the action once more, chose to ignore the evidence stating he was nothing like Potter.
"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.
“Really, Albus?” James asked and when Albus nodded, everyone awed in fascination, wondering why the headmaster would need such a map.
Well -- give him here, Hagrid -- we'd better get this over with." Dumbledore took Harry in his arms and turned toward the Dursleys' house.
"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.
Harry heard Sirius snort at that, and couldn’t hide his grin.
"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 -"
“Hagrid, you must be quiet -“Lily began
“Or you’ll be found out.” Hermione finished, the two females looking at each other in surprise before smiling lightly.
"Yes, yes, it's all very sad, but get a grip on yourself, Hagrid, or we'll be found,"
Everyone snorted at the irony of it, while Molly and Ginny Weasley looked angry, like something wasn’t going their way.
Professor McGonagall whispered, patting Hagrid gingerly 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.
While many people knew that Dumbledore no longer having a twinkle in his eyes wasn’t a good thing, nearly all of the females were angry with him for leaving Harry on a doorstep, in November no less.
"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'll be takin' Sirius his bike back. G'night, Professor McGonagall -- Professor Dumbledore, sir."
At this, Sirius whined a little bit, clearly missing his motorcycle. Harry nodded his head, remembering the bike, though barely.
Wiping his streaming eyes on his jacket sleeve, Hagrid swung himself onto the motorcycle and kicked the engine into life; with a roar it rose into the air and off into the night.
"I shall see you soon, I expect, Professor McGonagall," said Dumbledore, nodding to her. Professor McGonagall blew her nose in reply. Dumbledore turned and walked back down the street. On the corner he stopped and took out the silver Put-Outer. He clicked it once, and twelve balls of light sped back to their street lamps so that Privet Drive glowed suddenly orange and he could make out a tabby cat slinking around the corner at the other end of the street. He could
just see the bundle of blankets on the step of number four.
"Good luck, Harry," he murmured. He turned on his heel and with a swish of his cloak, he was gone.
“I’ll definitely be needing it, too.” Harry mumbled, causing Sirius to look up at him with worry.
A breeze ruffled the neat hedges of Privet Drive, which lay silent and tidy under the inky sky, the very last place you would expect astonishing things to happen. Harry Potter rolled over inside his blankets without waking up. One small hand closed on the letter beside him and he slept on, not knowing he was special, not knowing he was famous, not knowing he would be woken in a few hours' time by Mrs. Dursley's scream as she opened the front door to put out the milk bottles, nor that he would spend the next few weeks being prodded and pinched by his cousin Dudley...
“Try for the next few years.” Harry added.
He couldn't know that at this very moment, people meeting in secret all over the country were holding up their glasses and saying in hushed voices: "To Harry Potter -- the boy who lived!"
When Dumbledore finished reading, he looked up, and with his glasses down low on his nose, asked a very important question.
“Who would like to read next?” After a few minutes of silence, a voice finally came from the crowd.
“I will, Albus.” Remus Lupin said, taking the book when it flew to him.
Chapter 3 ->