Chapter 3
All Hallow’s Eve is a night of festivities and joy. It is also the day when the veil between life and death is the thinest. It was this night that the home of Lily Josephine Potter Nee Evans, James Fleamont Potter and their beloved son was invaded, and the house ended up in smithereens. Looking at the carnage in the morning, the muggle fire department would say that the gas line had leaked, and a spark from a stray cigarette lit it up. The Wixen Department of Mysteries and Auror departments would say that the backlash from the defeat of the Dark lord blew the house up. The rest of the world would say it was one big mystery but a blessing nonetheless.
Sirius Orion Black was described as manic, looking for his godson. However, like the flip of a switch, he bolted and ran after someone that night. The Aurors would later find him curled up, silent tears running down his face as he stared blankly at the pavement where a singular finger was—muttering under his breath about the betrayal of the Potters and all those muggles that were killed as a result. They took that as his confession; after all, he was a Black, and all those people are Dark and crazy…just look at his cousin, Bellatrix.
Rubeus Hagrid felt something was off when Sirius gave his precious godson to him that night, but as big as he was, Hagrid was not much of a critical thinker. He took the world as it was and didn’t tend to ask very many questions, regardless of what had happened around him. He tended to trust his gut instincts. Sure, they led him astray a few times, but nothing he couldn’t handle. Besides, the Great Albus Dumbledore would never lie to him; if he said this baby needed to be with Lily’s sister, that was it. After all, Dumbledore had been around for a lot longer than most Wix, so he was far wiser than people gave him credit for. Reassured in his decision, Hagrid took the flying motorcycle to Hogwarts, where Dumbledore was. Albus had to check the child and ensure nothing was wrong with the baby.
Once they arrived, Hagrid left the baby with Albus and went to tend to a few groundkeeper duties while Dumbledore did what he had to. The scar on the baby would indeed be cool. It went from just below his hairline, dragged across his forehead, sharply turned and ran across the outer half of his left eye, and cut across to just below his earlobe. Hagrid wasn’t sure if he could see out of that eye anymore, but regardless, it’ll be cool to brag to his peers about. ‘ I got this scar from surviving a killing curse!’... Hagrid wasn’t the best with muggles; he didn’t quite understand the statute of secrecy, but he was rarely in the muggle world, so that didn’t bother him too much. Not much longer after he had finished feeding the Thestrals did Dumbledore knock on his door with the same bundle of blankets.
“He a’ight?” Hagrid had asked; he wasn’t much for words very often either.
“He is perfectly fine, Hagrid just… a nasty little scar, should heal in no time. However, we need to see young Harry off to his Aunt and Uncle’s now. It wouldn’t be safe for me to transport him. As such, I’ll need you to deliver him to their stoop. Can I trust you with this task?” His voice was trusting and gave Hagrid the feeling that he could do this, too. With that assurance, he nodded and headed for the bike. “Wonderful, I knew I could count on you. Minerva and I shall meet you there in a few hours. Oh! And bring a jacket; it’s getting mightily chilly out today.”
The next time Hagrid saw Dumbledore, he was in a quiet little town that was too alike for his tastes. It all looked like those premade gingerbread and pumpkin seed houses you can get at Christmas time. All symmetrical and muted colours. All the lawns were trimmed to perfection, and no house stood out when it came to Halloween decorations. They all looked relatively the same. Hagrid did not like that one bit. He loved the difference of Diagon Alley to this little town. Landing somewhere near Privet Drive, Hagrid collected the baby he was tasked with transporting and trudged up the dark sidewalk. No doubt the great Dumbledore’s doing. It didn’t take long to make out a tall man in robes and a regal-looking cat. Just as Hagrid was reaching the first patch of sidewalk that connected number four to the rest of the street, the cat was gone, and in its place stood a beautiful woman in robes as well. The three adults took up a conversation, and soon enough, Hagrid left his temporary charge with the trustworthy professors. Heading home, Hagrid did not hear Minerva’s warning about these muggles, and he did not hear her disapparate, nor did he see the Great Albus Dumbledore leave a baby on the doorstep of his aunt’s house with nothing but a note to tell her that Lily had died the night before. Nobody noticed this little child until six-thirty the next morning when Petunia went to put the milk bottles out.
A scream of shock ran through number four as heavy footsteps ran down the stairs to see the problem. Vernon found his wife of a year and nine months sitting on the steps with a baby close to his dudder’s age. A note in her hand would later tell them that the good-for-nothing wizards had died a tragic death and that they were the only people who could take care of the boy. His wife would take a mild beating for not consulting with him first, of course, but they did take the boy in. Even if he was going to be a freak of nature, maybe he could be helpful.