Disclaimer: The characters and everything in bold belongs to JK Rowling.
Nineteen year old Harry, Hermione, and Ron sat in front of the stack of books. It was incredible to think they'd accomplished it. Harry had put each of his memories of the most important years of his life into the books. Professor McGonagall, the current headmistress of Hogwarts, had contributed by giving her own memories of the day Harry had been taken to the Dursleys, the day where she had watched all of the Dursleys carefully- particularly his uncle.
Originally they were going to put it all in one story, but Hermione thought it'd be better to split it by year as the book would have been much too large. It was incredible how much bigger of a story his later years were compared to his first three. Ron picked up the smallest book and flipped through it briefly.
"They're in third person." Ron commented.
"So are memories." Hermione said simply. "These books are written with memories, it's expected that they be told similarly."
Harry had watched the process of using his memories and turning them into pages of a book. They were copies of his memories, of course, as all of his mind was intact. That was the easier part. The harder part would be sending the books back.
"As they disappear into the past we will disappear as well." Hermione had explained. "It's a scary thought, isn't it? This version of us won't be around anymore. Us sending the books back will affect so much that a future in which we didn't have to books will no longer exist. As soon as the books are sent back, the future we know now will be replaced with a future in which our past selves read the books."
"It will be for the best." Harry said.
"Things didn't turn out so bad." Ron said. "It could have been worse. But... it could have been better."
"We could save so many..." Hermione whispered. "We have to do this don't we?"
And they did. The books were made, they just had to be sent to the past.
"I hope you don't mind, Harry," Hermione said. "I put them in a sort of story book fashion. I thought it'd all be easier to get the information that way."
"It's brilliant." Harry said staring at the books as Ron put the top one back.
"I'm glad you feel that way." Hermione said tiredly. "Considering how long it took to make these."
"Are they ready to be sent?" Harry asked. Hermione raised an eyebrow.
"Right now? At this hour?" Hermione asked.
"Well they're likely to show up wherever I am at this time four years ago, right?" Harry asked. He had wanted to send them further, maybe stop Cedric's death, but Hermione said to send it just four years back was going to be difficult, and they shouldn't try to send it further back. The fact that objects were going back and not people gave them more leniency, although Harry suspected the only reason Hermione was risking sending them back so far was because of Sirius.
The books would be sent back four years to the day and time, so if she sent the books at two in the morning, they would show up wherever Harry was on this day four years ago at two in the morning. "I'll likely be in bed. Better they show up while I'm there than in the common room or class. And I don't want to delay this anymore, they have to have enough time to read the books to be able to stop Sirius' death."
Hermione nodded. "Okay then. We'll do this now."
"I don't know why we needed to send the first four years anyway." Ron muttered. Hermione sighed, as she had explained this to both of them countless times.
"Harry may have been too young to understand the situation when he first experienced it. It's helpful to review, why do you think people extract and view memories anyway?"
Ron rolled his eyes but said nothing more. Hermione got in position to attempt to send the book back but paused and glanced at Harry.
"Are you sure you want to do this?" she asked, her wand raised. "It's like I said, once I send these books back these versions of ourselves won't exist anymore. It's not like the time turner."
"I'm sure." Harry said forcefully. "Do it."
Hermione bit her lip, and put her wand down for a second. She wrote something down and put it on top of the carefully crafted books. Ron peaked over her shoulder.
"What did you put?"
Hermione moved out of the way so they could read the note and both boys scoffed.
"Why so cryptic?" Ron asked as she started muttering something. "Couldn't you have just put here are books of your future read them for information?"
Hermione ignored him and Harry watched as the books began to fade, and with them, the world around him was fading. He hoped the information would do him well. He hoped he could save a lot of lives. He wished his past self good luck before the world fade to white.
Fifteen year old Harry was walking in the comfort of his father's invisibility cloak. It was well after curfew and he had been avoiding sleep. Ever since the dream he'd had about Voldemort and Rookwood he'd been falling asleep later and later. He wasn't having a good week. His dream had put him on edge, and he had to keep reminding himself to put it in the back of his mind. An Occlumency lesson with Snape would be coming soon, within the next week. Umbridge had begun to take points from Gryffindor more often than Snape. She was still bitter about The Quibbler article that the entire school had read. Harry had more allies now, and she was gripping at any hold she could get to convince them that there was no danger out there and Voldemort had not returned.
Feeling he had been walking around long enough, Harry made to go back to his room only to trip over something and fall. His father's cloak flew off of him and he landed with a thud. His glasses dangling off of his face, he sat up drowsily. It was in the middle of the night, Harry had no idea what could be on the floor. Then he heard footsteps and he quickly snapped to his sense and pushed his glasses up. Not fast enough, he saw Umbridge come up in front of him, her wand light giving her a weird shadow from her eyelashes hanging over her fat cheeks. Her squash face gleamed, likely happy for another reason to make him miserable.
"What do we have here?" Came her annoying voice. Harry quickly blocked the view of the cloak, but her eyes were on something else. Books. Seven books. They were likely in a pile before Harry had fallen over them, as the bottom two were still on top of each other. When Harry looked closer, he saw they did not have a title on them. Umbridge bent down (not very far down as Harry thought all of the books stacked could rival the stumpy woman's hight) and scooped them up. That's when Harry saw a note fall out in front of him. Squinting to read in Umbridge's light, Harry saw:
To see what you may have overlooked, to know what is to come. One book is one year, This is your truth.
Umbridge saw Harry squinting at the note, and snatched that up too, nearly dropping the top two books in the process. "I think I'll have to keep this for myself."
Harry did nothing. He didn't care, they weren't his books. He just hoped she didn't spot and try to grab his cloak.
"Off to bed, Potter. Ten points from Gryffindor for being out of bed." She said and scampered away. Harry waited for her light to turn the corner before grabbing his cloak and throwing it around himself.
Harry dragged himself into Defense Against the Dark Arts, which he had with the Hufflepuffs, feeling weighted. Last night's escapades, if it could even be called that, was catching up with him. He was annoyed that at lunch earlier a few people were giving him strange looks, but no one he asked knew why anymore than he did. He noticed in front of all of the seats were identical sets of familiar looking piles of books. When he got closer, it was indisputable that these were the same books he'd fallen over the night before.
He instantly disliked them. Harry had known of these books for less than 24 hours and already they were guilty of three offences in Harry's opinion. They had been left in the middle of the hallway, first offence. They had tripped Harry when he was minding his own business, second offence. They had caused Harry to lose ten more points for his house, third offence. The fact that Harry had no idea what to call them bothered him, and Umbridge looked far too happy at the moment. Nothing that made Umbridge happy could be good.
Harry sat down and they blocked his view from Umbridge's smiling face, so they couldn't be too bad. Harry knew published books could not be copied, there was a charm on them for that so no one tried to cheat their way out of buying them if they wanted/needed the book. Umbridge had dozens of copies, however, so the books weren't mainstream or anything. Harry noticed they were all red hardback books. The top three were smaller, the first one being the smallest. But the fourth one was much larger, the fifth one looked to be the largest book. The sixth and seventh books were smaller in size to the fourth and fifth, but still twice as large as the first three.
"Good afternoon, class!" She said cheerily.
"Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge." Most of the class said in the exact way they were told to address the toad-like woman. Harry had not been one of the ones to say this. Harry was not having a good afternoon and he certainly didn't wish for Umbridge to have one. He could not, therefore, greet the woman like this because, according to his hand, he must not tell lies.
"Now, we're going to do something a little different today. I have assigned you all seven books to read. I believe you will find them quite informative. I have skimmed through the first one and I thought it would be good for us to read."
Harry swallowed a groan. Most of the books were large and heavy looking, and there were seven of them. Harry looked at Ron, who looked how Harry felt. Hermione looked at the books curiously but apprehensively. Harry suspected she was fighting a battle within herself. She was excited for new material to read, but anything that spiked Umbridge's interest shouldn't be good.
"Not only will this class be reading it, but all of my classes will be reading it." Umbridge said, her girly voice laced with vindictive excitement. "And I've delivered copies to each of the professors and the headmaster. I believe these books will clear things up very soon."
Harry, still unable to see Umbridge, stared at the books with unease. These books, whatever was inside of them, was likely a game changer. Harry wished he'd grabbed them before Umbridge, he'd have felt safer with them in his hands than hers.
"Take the first book and set it down in front of you. You can put the other six inside of your bags. We will be reading the first chapter together."
Harry pushed the books into his bag, which almost looked like it was crying with the heavy set of books added to his already heavy books.
"Hmm. Now, yes." Umbridge looked around, eyes landing on Harry. "Mr. Potter why don't you read for us?"
Harry stared silently at her. No was on the tip of his tongue and he could practically see I Must Be Obedient under his current scar but Ron elbowed him with pleading eyes. Harry's own eyes rolled.
"Yes, professor." He said and opened the book. On the first book it simply said Book 1 and on the next page the chapter started. Harry cleared his throat.
Mr. and Mrs. Dursley,
Harry froze, the words leaving a bitter taste on his mouth. Harry looked at the books again, turned to the blank cover and back at the pages. What... what were these books? Why were they talking about his aunt and uncle?
"Is something wrong, Mr. Potter?" Umbridge said, a similar sweetness and look when he had his first detention. The rest of the class looked curious. None of them would know who Mr. and Mrs. Dursley were. Even Ron and Hermione hadn't figured it out yet. Hermione referred to them as Harry's aunt and uncle, and Ron simply called them The Muggles.
"I'm not reading this." He said forcefully.
Umbridge's smile widened a bit. "Something to hide, Mr. Potter?"
Harry thought about the idea of telling someone- Dumbledore and McGonagall came to mind- but he realized there was nothing they could do.
"No, professor." He bit out, his anger rising as he gripped the book and looked at the page again, starting from the beginning.
Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, who lived in number four, Privet Drive, were very normal and proud to be so.
Hermione could have sworn she'd heard the name Dursley before. She hadn't the slightest clue where. And hadn't she heard of Privet Drive before as well?
They were never involved in anything strange or mysterious because they viewed such things as nonsense.
Mr. Dursley was the director of a firm called Grunnings, which made drills. He was very large, had little neck, and a mustache to match his body size. Mrs. Dursley was quite the opposite as she was very skinny with blonde hair a more neck than was strictly necessary, unless craning over garden fences to spy on her neighbors was considered necessary. The Dursleys also had a son, which they named Dudley and there was no finer boy anywhere- in their opinion.
Most of the class had no idea what they were reading as they followed along with Harry. If this Dursley person was important, they didn't know why they were wasting time with things like jobs (whatever a drills was) and physical descriptions. And if this was about an event in history, why hadn't it been taught by Binns?
Despite The Dursleys having all they could want, they held a secret that they feared someone would one day discover.
Now people were getting interested.
This secret, which they so desperately wanted to keep hidden, were The Potters.
Harry paused. Everyone was now staring at Harry. It wasn't so surprising that these books had something to do with him. Everything always had something to do with him. Ron and Hermione had finally put together who the Dursley were.
"Professor where did you get these books?" Ron asked with his hand in the air.
"That is none of your concern." Umbridge said.
"You can't assign these books as reading assignments! It's an invasion of privacy!" Hermione shrieked.
"If that were the truth the words would not have been published onto these books and left out for anyone to read." Umbridge said pleasantly. It was obvious she had the upperhand, she didn't even bother to berate Hermione on not raising her hand. "I have officially added these books to my curriculum and there will be nothing more on the subject. Mr. Potter, continue."
Harry glared at the book hard enough, some wouldn't have been surprised if it busted into flames like a phoenix.
Mrs. Dursley had a sister, Mrs. Potter, whom she hadn't seen for several years; in actuality, Mrs. Dursley found pleasure in pretending she did not have a sister. Mrs. Potter and her no good husband were as unDursleyish as they could possibly be.
"What is unDursleyish? Is that a word?" Seamus called out.
"You did not raise your hand, Mr. Finnigan, and that is not important."
The Dursleys didn't even want to think about what their neighbors would say and think if The Potters showed up. Mr. and Mrs. Dursley knew that the Potters had a son as well, but they've never even seen the boy. He was just another good reason for keeping their distance from The Potters; nothing good could come from Dudley mixing with a child like that.
The wizarding world had wondered about Harry Potter before he came out of hiding and went to Hogwarts. People still wondered what he had been up to for all of those years, now they were finding out- and they didn't think they would like the answer.
On the dull, gray Tuesday in which our story starts, nothing about it would suggest that strange and mysterious things would be happening all over the country.
What strange and mysterious things? Was this an important day? Mr. and Mrs. Dursley's seemed like muggles, what could affect them that would have any importance on any of the people reading this book, apart from maybe Harry. But even that was a stretch if Harry had no contact with these Dursleys.
While Mrs. Dursley tried to get Dudley into a high chair, Mr. Dursley hummed and picked out his most boring tie for work.
All of this seemed incredibly uninteresting and irrelevant to all of them. Harry, wherever he is in this story, was likely doing something much more interesting. Even if he was just sleeping. Although they did figure out this day had to be many years ago if Dudley was around the age of Harry and he was being put in a high chair.
The large, tawny owl that fluttered past the window went unnoticed.
The obvious sign of wizardry woke people up briefly.
As Mr. Dursley left, he picked up his briefcase and gave Mrs. Dursley a kiss. He tried to do the same with Dudley, but Dudley was busy having a tantrum.
A few people rolled their eyes, they were back at the Dursleys. And the Dursleys seemed really obnoxious.
Mr. Dursley simply called Dudley a 'little tyke' and left.
Correction, it was obvious they were really obnoxious. Lavender wrinkled her nose.
When he got into his car and backed out of his driveway, he saw a cat reading a map.
"Professor McGonagall!" Dean exclaimed.
"Five points from Gryffindor for calling out."
Dean sank in his seat.
"We don't know it was McGonagall." Harry heard Seamus whisper.
Dean scoffed. "Cats do not read maps. Not unless they aren't cats."
Mr. Dursley wasn't sure what he'd seen, and when he looked again the cat was there, but no map was in sight. He wrote it off as a trick of the light.
Ron closed his mouth before he could call out and say what trick of light looks like a map.
Mr. Dursley and the cat had a brief staring contest.
Harry smiled a bit despite the situation he was currently in. Knowing Uncle Vernon got McGonagall's piercing stare, even if in cat form, satisfied him deeply.
Mr. Dursley kept an eye on the cat while it read the street sign, then corrected his thoughts saying the cat was simply looking at the sign as cats do not read.
"Unless they are really Professor McGonagall." Dean muttered.
He put the cat out of his mind. He instead focused on the large order of drills that should be coming.
It was irritating to most to have to follow these muggles around. What was so important about them to the point that these books had been assigned to every student in the school and given to the faculty?
However, he was once again distracted from his daily routine by the appearance of several people in cloaks.
Hermione, however much she disliked the man and the way Harry's business was being publicized, found this all fascinating. She had an idea of what day this was, as wizards were usually more careful with hiding themselves, especially McGonagall. It was interesting to see it from a muggle's perspective.
Mr. Dursley hated when people dressed in funny clothes, especially when young people started a new weird trend.
Hermione nodded to herself. The things non-magic people did to justify the unexplainable was always interesting to her.
When he got a closer look at the people in cloaks, he saw that they were whispering excitedly and some of them weren't young, and one in an emerald-green cloak was likely older than he was.
"I think it sounds like a nice cloak." Parvati murmured to Lavender.
Mr. Dursley decided they had to be collecting something, and quickly went back to thinking of drills.
Mr. Dursley, who sat with his back to the window, didn't see the owls that flew past the window, although others did. They pointed at them all as most of them had never seen an owl before, not even at night.
Ron raised an eyebrow, he hadn't known they were so rare to muggles.
Mr. Dursley's morning was a good one without knowledge of the owls. He'd made important phone calls and yelled at people all day.
"This man sounds horrible!" Came an angry whisper, it sounded like Hannah Abbott.
Mr. Dursley decided around noon he would buy a bun from the bakery across the road.
Not like he needs it. Harry thought.
The people in cloaks had been driven out of his mind until he passed a bunch of them. They were all whispering, and they seemed not to be collectors at all. Walking back past them, he heard them speak about The Potters and their son, Harry.
Harry frowned. He had already suspected what had taken place at this time, but now he was almost positive. No one talked about 'The Potters'. They talked about Harry Potter and Harry Potter alone. The fact that they were grouping the entire family together told Harry it hadn't yet become a well known fact that there was only one person in the family.
Mr. Dursley froze with fear, and nearly said something to the whisperers.
Hermione briefly wondered what exactly he would have said, and what would have come of the situation.
He ran back to his office and yelled at his secretary that he wasn't to be disturbed. He picked up the phone to dial home, before changing his mind. He stroked his mustache in thought and decided that Potter wasn't too unusual a name.
Harry reflected that he didn't know a single other Potter, and if he'd met them he likely would have automatically asked if they were related. At least when he was growing up.
There were likely other people names Potter who had a son named Harry. He wasn't even sure his nephew's name was Harry, it could be Harvey or Harold.
Harry snorted bitterly but kept reading.
It would be stupid to worry his wife, as she got very upset when her sister was brought up. Mr. Dursley didn't blame her, as he'd loath to have a sister like Mrs. Potter.
Harry's already bad mood and the bad mouthing about his mother, and on this day (the one in the book) caused him to grip the book tighter, fighting the urge to just rip it in half.
With the people in cloaks on his mind, he found it hard to concentrate on work.
Harry heard Ron finally ask Hermione what drills were, and she promised she'd explain another time.
He left work around five, and was so distracted he walked into someone. He quickly said sorry
Harry raised an eyebrow. He didn't even know his uncle knew the word.
when the old man he bumped into nearly fell. When he got a good look, he saw that the man was wearing a violet cloak. He wasn't upset, and instead smiled widely. He told Mr. Dursley in a squeaky voice that he shouldn't be sorry, as he was much too happy. You-Know-Who had gone and even muggles should be celebrating.
"So this really is the day after You-Know-" Ron began.
"Hand Mr. Weasley. But yes, this is the day after his demise." Umbridge said and set her sights on Harry. "Thanks to Mr. Potter, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named would never terrorize us again."
"Until last June." Harry finished. "When he was successfully brought back and he murd-"
"Ten points from Gryffindor." She said easily. "Now, continue reading. I would like to get through the first chapter before class ends."
The cloaked man gave Mr. Dursley a hug and went off.
Mr. Dursley was frozen again, as he was not used to being hugged by a stranger, and he didn't know what a Muggle was.
He quickly went to his car, hoping it was all his imagination, which was an unusual wish as he disapproved of imagination.
"What is wrong with this man?" Ernie said to himself, quiet enough to not get the wrath (or the passive aggression) of Umbridge.
He saw the tabby cat ahaon, which was now sitting on his garden wall. He tried to shoo it away.
"Yeah right. That will work." Ron laughed.
"One more word out of you, Mr. Weasley, and you will get detention." Umbridge finally snapped.
But it stayed put and just gave it a stern look. Dursley, who knew nothing about cats, wondered if this was normal behavior for cats.
Dean gave Seamus a pointed look, which the other boy pretended not to notice.
He pulled himself together and went into his house, staying with his decision to mention nothing to his wife.
Mrs. Dursley had a good day.
Harry rolled his eyes and closed his eyes in annoyance. The rest of the class understood his feelings. None of them cared how nice or normal the Dursley's day was.
She gossiped about their neighbor's daughter and how Dudley learned the word won't. Mr. Dursley attempted to act as if nothing was wrong. Later that night, he went in the living room to watch the evening news.
Hermione sat up even straighter, wondering what the news would have to say with witches and wizards being so obvious and careless.
The reporter said that bird watchers have noticed the owls to be acting unusually. Owls were hardly ever seen in daylight, however, hundreds of birds had been seen flying around since morning. It's unclear why the birds had been behaving differently.
Because they're sending the news of Voldemort's downfall. Hermione thought.
The Weather Man, Ted, said that instead of rain, there had been shooting stars.
"Glad everyone's celebrating the day my parents died." Harry said loudly, interrupting himself. Many people suddenly felt sick. Umbridge wasn't one of them.
"Mr. Potter, as much as I'm sure that's an unpleasant thought, I'll need you to keep those to yourself and just continue reading."
Mr. Dursley was not moving in his chair. Talk about shooting stars owls flying in the day people in cloaks and Whispering about The Potters had him shook.
When Mrs. Dursley came into the living room with tea, Mr. Dursley decided to say something. He nervously asked his wife if she'd heard from her sister. Mrs. Dursley was not happy.
Harry thought he'd be angry if a reminder that he was the bitter less talented one in his family, like his aunt was, came up again
She said no and asked why he would say that. Mr. Dursley told her about all the funny things happening around town. He said he thought it had something to do with her crowd.
"Does he mean us?" Seamus asked. "How is it he knows about us?"
"She told him." Dean shrugged.
"But why would she?"
Harry frowned. Yes, why had his aunt told his uncle about his mother and her 'crowd'.
Mr. Dursley thought about telling Mrs. Dursley about hearing the Potter's come up in conversation. He decided against it. Instead he asked about their son and wondered what his name was. Mrs. Dursley said it was Harry, And then went on to insult the name.
"Yes and I suppose Dudley is a good name." He heard Parvati whisper to Lavender, who giggled.
Mr. Dursley quickly agreed but said nothing else about the strange things that had happened. when mr. dursley looked outside he saw the cat was still there. he wondered if he was imagining things. he didn't think he could be or if it got out that he was related to The Potters.
Harry felt the same way about them.
That night Mrs. Dursley went to sleep quickly, but mr. dursley stayed awake. I found comfort in the fact that even if this was all about The Potters, there was no reason it should affect his family.
It almost hurt to know how badly Harry wished this to be true. Harry paused for a moment and his stomach sank. They were going to find out. All of them. The entire school was about to find out how he used to live. How he still lived when with the Dursleys. He never told anyone, not even Ron or Hermione. Not even Sirius.
He wasn't looking forward to this.
"Yeah I'm reading." Harry snapped, his lack of control in how much his life was getting broadcasted putting a nasty edge in his tone as he continued to read.
The Potters knew that he and his wife wanted nothing to do with their kind. None of this could affect him.
He didn't know how wrong he was.
Harry took a deep breath, closed his eyes, shook his head, opened them again, and kept reading. He had about half a chapter left.
while mr. dursley got some sleep, the cat outside stayed awake. It watched the corner of Privet Drive with minimal didn't move at all until it was nearly midnight.
The swift change in point of view nearly gave all of them whiplash. Dean was even more sure that the cat wasn't a cat at all, but his professor.
A man appeared on the corner where the cat had been watching suddenly and silently.
"It wasn't apparition then," Hermione whispered. "Apparition comes with a loud crack, unless that man found a way to apparate without the sound."
The cat finally moved, narrowing its eyes.
The man was quite unusual for Privet Drive. He was simultaneously old, tall, and thin. His hair and beard were long and silvery.
Dumbledore? Ron mouthed to Hermione.
His robes were long and purple, and he wore high-heeled boots. He had blue eyes that sparkled behind his half-moon glasses and hung on his long crooked nose.
Hermione smiled and nodded to Ron, who hadn't needed the confirmation after the rest of the description.
His name was Albus Dumbledore.
"Is it important?" Umbridge's voice came and Harry saw she was looking at Susan Bones, who had her hand up.
"I was just wondering what Professor Dumbledore could have been doing there." Susan said quietly.
"Well, I'm sure if you allowed Mr. Potter to read, you would have found out!" she said, same sweet voice. Susan shrunk down. "Five points from Hufflepuff for the unnecessary interruption."
Albus Dumbledore was looking for something in his coat when he realized he was being watched. He looked up at the cat and chuckled saying he should have known.
Dean raised an eyebrow.
He pulled something out that was silver and resembled a cigarette lighter. When he flipped it open and clicked, the street lamp nearest him went out with a pop. He did it again to the next light.
"Wicked!" said Ron quietly.
He clicked the Put-Outer twelve times,
"Should have a better name though." Ron muttered.
And the only light came from the eyes of the cat. No one would be able to see them if they looked out their window, not even Mrs. Dursley.
"What an interesting little invention." Hermione thought aloud. She kept her mouth shut when she saw she caught Umbridge's attention. She wrote on a piece of parchment. Most magical items didn't work around electricity, hence the medieval way wizards lived, but this little thing worked with electricity it seemed. She's have to ask Professor Dumbledore about it sometime.
He put the gadget into his cloak and began to walk towards number four. He sat on the wall next to the cat and said it was fancy seeing it there, and called it Professor McGonagall.
Dean turned to Seamus with a superior smile. Seamus finally muttered, "I never said it wasn't her. I just said it might not be."
"The chances of it not being McGonagall were slim to none." Dean answered back, smile still on his face.
In place of the cat was a woman wearing glasses and an emerald cloak. She had black hair that was put into a tight bun. She looked ruffled.
"This really must be an unusual day. McGonagall never looks any less than put together." Harry heard Lavender say to Parvati.
"But how long does she usually stay a cat?" Parvati questioned.
She asked how he knew it was her, and he told her he'd never seen a cat sit stiffly. Professor McGonagall retaliated that he'd be stiff if he'd been on a brick wall all day, as she had. Dumbledore wondered why she wasn't out celebrating like everyone else.
Harry rolled his eyes at the reminder that no one cared that he'd lost his parents.
Professor McGonagall gave an angry sniff.
Harry paused briefly, surprised by this.
She berated the lot of them, saying they were being irresponsible and even the muggles noticed.
Harry's shoulders sunk down a bit but he said nothing.
She went on, saying it was on their news. They'd seen many owls and shooting stars and they were bound to notice something. She speculated that Dedalus Diggle set off the shooting stars.
"What a name..." Ernie whispered to a giggling Hannah Abbott.
Said he never had much sense.
"Not with a name like that he didn't." Ernie continued while Harry looked back at his memories of the man and agreed with McGonagall.
Dumbledore said he and the others shouldn't be blamed.
"I blame who named him," Ernie mocked, Hannah covering her mouth so she didn't make too much noise. "He didn't name himself!"
And said that they had little to celebrate for eleven years.
McGonagall snapped that she was aware of this, but they should still be careful instead of being out in broad daylight not dressed in muggle clothes and swapping rumors on the streets.
Harry wondered what the rumors were before they'd gotten the real story. Harry had heard simple stories turned into ridiculous adventures before.
She glanced at Dumbledore, hoping he'd say something, but he didn't, so she went on. She said it'd be ironic if You-Know-Who disappeared tbe same day the muggles found out about them. Then asked Dumbledore if You-Know-Who was really gone. Dumbledore said it seemed so, and offered her a lemon drop.
"A what?" Neville couldn't help but ask very quietly.
Neville dropped his head a little, afraid of being made fun of for sounding like they're Head of House.
Dumbledore clarified it was a muggle sweet that he liked.
"How random and totally stray of the topic of current conversation." Susan said under her breath.
Professor McGonagall declined, thinking this wasn't the time for lemon drops.
Unlike Neville, Susan giggled at thinking like Professor McGonagall..
She said that even if You-Know-Who was gone, but was cut off by Dumbledore who asked her to say the real name: Voldemort.
The class shuddered and Harry rolled his eyes. "You know, Voldemort - honestly guys - it's not his real name. He spent all of this time coming up with a decent name for himself and you lot can't even say it. It's quite insensitive, really."
A few nervous laughs came out, but Umbridge wasn't amused. "You are to keep reading, Mr. Potter, do not interrupt yourself for trivial comments."
Professor McGonagall flinched, which seemed to go unnoticed by Dumbledore who said he never seemed to understand why people didn't just say his name.
McGonagall said that was because everyone knows he was the only one Voldemort ever feared.
"That's because Dumbledore's a talented and respectable wizard." Hermione nodded.
Dumbledore said he was flattered, but that Voldemort had powers he'd never have. McGonagall told him it was because he was far too noble to use them. Dumbledore said the last time he blushed so much was when Madam Pomfrey complemented his new earmuffs.
Thoughts of an affair between the headmaster and the mediwitch flew around, and a few people shuddered at the thought while others cooed affectionately.
Professor McGonagall gave Dumbledore a look and asked if he knew about the rumors flying around, and what they were saying finally stopped him.
"A badass baby." Dean said casually, this time a little too loud.
"Mr. Thomas! One more word-"
"Detention, I'm sure." Dean said. "I'll keep quiet."
This seemed to be what Professor McGonagall was most anxious to discuss. Whatever the rumors were, she wouldn't believe them until Dumbledore confirmed them. Dumbledore, however, was busy choosing another lemon drop.
"Those lemondrops are so annoying." Parvati mumbled.
She went on and said she'd heard that Voldemort showed up at Godric's Hallow to find the Potters, and Lily and James, were dead.
Harry frowned. He was more upset that it didn't phase him to speak about his dead parents than anything else.
Dumbledore confirmed this and McGonagall gasped sadly, saying she didn't want to believe it.
Harry felt appreciation that McGonagall saw the travesty in all of the celebratory chaos happening on this night. It was about time that someone did.
Dumbledore comforted her, but Professor McGonagall was not finished. She said that people were saying Voldemort try to kill Lily and James son, Harry, but he couldn't and his powers broke and that's why he's gone.
Everyone stared at Harry, as they always did when his story came up. Which was often, in the time he'd spent at Hogwarts.
Dumbledore confirmed this too, and found it incredible that this is what broke Voldemort after everything he'd done. She asked how this could have happened, and Dumbledore said he didn't know.
"I don't buy that." Seamus muttered. "He knows something, I'm sure."
Professor McGonagall dabbed her eyes with a lace handkerchief and Dumbledore sniffed greatly.
Harry couldn't help but be surprised his parents deaths had affected these two as much as they seemed to.
He took out a golden watch with twelve hands and little planets moving around the edge instead of numbers.
Harry rolled his eyes. All the time he spent studying astronomy, and he could still only partially understand those watches. Hermione had two of her own by the end of first year.
Dumbledore put it back in his pocket realizing that Hagrid was late. he asked if Hagrid was the one who told her Dumbledore would be there.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione snorted at a joke only they could understand. They could picture the scene.
Dumbledore has given me an importan' mission. I can' say what it is, he hasn' given me all the details. Told me ter meet him outside of Number 4 Privet Drive in Little Whingin'. ...I shouldn'a told you that.
Professor McGonagall said yes and asked why Dumbledore was here. he said he was there to bring Harry to the only family he has left, his aunt and uncle.
Many people frowned. It was suspected this was why these Dursleys had been mentioned at all, but that didn't mean they liked the idea of Harry staying with them anymore.
McGonagall quickly said he couldn't mean the people who lived in number four, and said that she'd watched them all day and they were horrible. Their son had kicked his mother up the street for sweets, Harry Potter surely could not stay with them.
Now, some were wondering how Harry didn't turn out obnoxious.
Dumbledore said it was the best place for him and his aunt and uncle would explain everything, as he'd written them a letter.
"A letter." Hermione repeated incredulously. "He'd written a letter?"
Professor McGonagall sat back on the wall, and asked Dumbledore if he really felt like he could explain everything in a letter. Especially when he'd be a legend, and she wouldn't be surprised if they had dubbed this day to be Harry Potter day.
While some wondered why that never caught on, Harry was glad he hadn't had to celebrate the day he'd lost everything annually when he got to the wizarding world.
"Too close to Halloween, probably." Neville whispered to himself.
She said books would be written about him
"Inaccurate books." Parvati said. The books about Harry being a prodigy baby wizard and going on secret adventures while being a little kid had long since been taken off the shelves.
And every child in the wizarding world would know his name. Dumbledore said this is exactly why he was to grow up away from all of that. All of the fame would likely get to his head, and said it was better that he wasn't exposed to that at a young age.
Harry still would have prefered that to how he actually grew up.
McGonagall conceded, and asked how the boy would get there. She eyed his cloak, as if Harry was hiding in it.
"Right next to his bag of lemon drops, I'm sure." Lavender mumbled.
Dumbledore told her Hagrid was bringing him.
Harry beamed, finding comfort in the fact that the next person to hold him and take care of him after the disastrous night was Hagrid.
McGonagall wondered if it was really good idea to trust Hagrid with this, and Dumbledore told her he would trust Hagrid with his life.
Harry smiled. He agreed. He could certainly trust Hagrid with his life, and his pets if it ever came to that, and with delivering a baby - but he didn't trust him with his secrets.
McGonagall agreed that Hagrid had his heart in the right place, but he could be a little careless at times. Then she cut herself off after hearing a low rumbling sound. It grew louder and they looked around, before a very large motorcycle fell from the sky, landing in front of the pair.
"Cool..." Ron whispered. "Dad would love one of those."
The motorcycle was huge, but the man was larger. He was taller than wider than the average man He had bushy black hair and a beard to match, hands the size of trash can lids and feet the size of baby dolphins. He held a bundle of blankets in his large arms.
"You'd think he would be scary." Dean mumbled amused. "Nope. Not at all."
"He's got a heart to fit his size." Parvati whispered to him.
Dumbledore was relieved to see him, and asked where the motorcycle came from. Hagrid told him he borrowed it from a man called Sirius Black.
Harry paused. "Hagrid... saw Sirius..."
Suddenly, Harry remembered something. He'd overheard Hagrid talking about that night.
" It was me what rescued Harry from Lily an' James's house after they was killed! jus' got him outta the ruins, poor little thing, with a great slash across his forehead, an' his parents dead... an' Sirius Black turns up, on that flyin' motorbike he used ter ride. Never occurred ter me what he was doin' there."
Hagrid later would go on to insult and yell about Sirius, but he, like Harry at the time, hadn't known the true story.
"He saw Sirius Black right before he killed all of those people!" Susan gasped.
"But..." Seamus began. "Where did they meet? Was it at the Potter House? Because if it was... why wouldn't he try to kill Harry then?"
"Why would he lend Hagrid his bike to deliver Harry safely?" Dean continued.
"Enough!" Umbridge snapped. "That is something to think about another time, perhaps."
Hagrid told Dumbledore he had Harry, and Dumbledore asked if there were any problems. Hagrid said no, and that the house was almost destroyed. Hagrid got to him before the muggles came and Harry fell asleep while flying over Bristol. Dumbledore and McGonagall looked at the sleeping baby boy, and under a bit of black hair they could see a cut the shape of a lightning bolt.
"The scar..." Hannah breathed out. "It's so fresh there... Baby Harry doesn't even know it's significance"
Ten year old Harry didn't know it's significance either. Harry thought glumly.
McGonagall asked if that was where Voldemort attempted to curse him, and Dumbledore agreed, saying he'd have the scar forever.
Harry patted his hair down over his scar instinctively.
McGonagall asked if he could do something about it, but Dumbledore said he wouldn't do anything even if he could, as scars are handy and he had a scar that was a perfect map of the London Underground above his left knee.
"What in the world?" Susan said incredulously and snapped her mouth shut but Umbridge's eyes were on Seamus, who was laughing.
"So who's going to ask to see it?" he asked.
"You have detention, Mr. Finnigan." Umbridge spat. "This evening!"
Seamus sunk in his seat.
Dumbledore asked for the baby, saying he wished to get it over with. He took the baby and Hagrid asked to say goodbye. He bent down and gave Harry a kiss that was likely scratchy because of his beard.
Harry smiled fondly.
Hagrid then let out a howl like a dog and McGonagall shushed him, saying he was threatening to wake up the muggles. Hagrid sobbed that it was so sad that James and Lily were dead and Harry was living with muggles.
"Hagrid is such a sweetheart!" Parvati cooed quietly.
McGonagall agreed it was sad while comforting the large man, but said he had to keep himself together. While this was happening, Dumbledore put Harry down gently on the doorstep and tucked the letter he'd written inside of Harry's blacnkets. He went back to the other two as the three of them looked at the baby. All were sad, and McGonagall and Dumbledore threatened to cry like Hagrid. Then Dumbledore said they'd best leave and join the celebrations.
"He's... he's not just going to leave you out there all night for a real cat to piss on you is he?" Ron asked. Harry shrugged as subtly as he could.
Hagrid agreed and said he'd best give the bike back, wishing the professors good night.
"You don't think he saw Sirius again, do you?" Hermione asked.
Harry shook his head. Sirius was likely already out looking for Wormtail at this point. He'd find him the next day and be taken to Azkaban without trial for a crime he didn't even commit.
Hagrid wiped his eyes and went back on the motorcycle, rising into the air with a roar of the engine.
Harry did wonder where Hagrid expected to find Sirius. Did he think he would still be at Godric's Hallow?
Dumbledore said goodbye to McGonagall, who blew her nose.
Harry smiled to himself, genuinely touched she was so affected by the death of his parents.
Dumbledore walked back down the street and only stopped to take out the Put-Outer. Clicking it once, twelve balls of light returned to their street lamps and gave Privet Drive a orange glow.
Hermione just had to find out how that worked.
He could just hardly see a cat turn the corner at the end of the street. He glanced at the bundle of blankets on number four privet drive and wished the baby goodbye, leaving with a swish of his cloak.
"He really left you there... in the middle of the night..." Hermione said horrified.
Privet Drive was silent as Harry Potter rolled over in his blankets, stillsleeping. His hand closed over the letter without any knowledge that he was special, famous, and without knowing he'd be awoken by the scream of Mrs. Dursley in the morning. Without knowing he would be picked on and pinched by his cousin.
A few people were surprised by this, that while everyone was celebrating Harry was being bullied by his cousin.
He had no idea that people were meeting all over the country, holding up their glasses to Harry Potter - the boy who lived!
"That's... it." Harry said hoarsely. "That's the first chapter."
"Very good." Umbridge said. "Now, before class ends, what have we gathered from this chapter?"
Hermione raised her hand. "Mostly nothing, mam."
Umbridge glared at Hermione, but Hermione kept going.
"What we didn't know was that Sirius Black must have stopped to see Harry that night, and met up with Hagrid. And despite Harry's vulnerability, he did not attempt to murder him, but instead helped Hagrid deliver him safely by giving Hagrid his bike. Which makes you wonder what his motives really were." Umbridge was looking very pink at this point. "Other than that, everything that has come up in this chapter is already known. Harry Potter defeated Voldemort mysteriously when he was a baby, Lily and James Potter died, may they rest in peace, and Dumbledore is the only wizard Voldemort ever feared."
"Sirius Black, though mad, was an intelligent wizard. He would not have attempted to kill Harry if the very actions brought down his master!" Umbridge said sternly. "He was likely there because he wondered why his master hadn't come back from his task of killing Harry yet."
"And the bike, professor?" Ron prodded.
"I can not see inside the mind of a killing maniac!" Umbridge screeched. She breathed out and brought her voice down the next time she spoke. "It likely would have done him well later on, giving Rubeus Hagrid his bike, but the next day the Ministry did their job and captured him."
"Hermione also mentioned that Dumbledore's the only wizard Voldemort ever feared." Harry called out, his fist in the air.
Hermione nodded. "Because he is a respectable and admirable wizard. Surely he wouldn't be spreading word that Voldemort was back if it weren't true."
Umbridge narrowed her eyes. "As admirable as he may be, he was also distractible. Speaking of muggle sweets when there were more pressing issues. I'm sure even you were alarmed to find that he thought it a good idea to leave an infant on a doorstep all night."
"Albus Dumbledore is older, he isn't as sharp as he once was. It's evident here, and this was over ten years ago." Umbridge said. Ron raised his hand but Umbridge turned away. "I want you to read to chapter three before your next class, where we will discuss them. Do not try to read ahead, I have placed a charm so that you can not read past the fourth chapter. Class dismissed!"
"We've got to do something about this!" Hermione yelled as they walked away from the classroom.
"Do what, Hermione?" Harry asked exasperatedly.
"I don't know! Something!" Hermione cried.
"She's right, mate." Ron said. "She can't get away with reading your business to the entire school. We can tell Dumbledore or-"
"Dumbledore can't do anything. If he had any say over how and what Umbridge was teaching he would have done something in the beginning when she decided we didn't need to actually practice defense spells this year of all years." Harry explained, hatred seeping over his words. "While she's got Fudge behind her, she's untouchable. I'm just going to have to deal with the entire school knowing everything about me."
I hope you enjoyed this, I'm extremely sick but I wanted to get this up. As you probably noticed, I don't directly quote the book but I paraphrase it. I got the idea from reading Harry Potter and the ? by BookHater95, who has given me permission to to do this. I won't be having author notes in this story. I have a twitter and a tumblr, both links in my bio, which you can follow for updates on where I am in the story and when I'll be uploading the next chapter. If you want a little more details on the story as a whole, you can also find that on my tumblr.
I'll upload chapter 2 as soon as possible!