~ The Prologe ~
It was the dead of night. Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts, strolled down Privet Drive looking for number 4.
He would wait there for Hagrid, who was tasked with bringing the Potter twins here.
The houses on Privet Drive looked almost the same. The always identical facades lined up and disappeared into the darkness.
Albus Dumbledore didn't seem to realize that he had just arrived in a street where everything from his name to his boots was unwelcome.
He was wearing long robes, a purple cloak and high-heeled, buckled boots and his blue eyes were light, bright and sparkling behind half-moon spectacles.
Dumbledore continued to scan the road and noticed a cat looking very intently down the map.
"I should have known."
He took something out of his pocket. It seemed to be a silver cigarette lighter. He flicked it open, held it up in the air and clicked it. The nearest streetlamp went out with a little pop. He clicked it again - the next lamp flickered into darkness.
"Fancy seeing you here, Professor McGonagall."
He turned to smile at the cat, but it had gone. Instead, the man was smiling at a severe-looking woman. She was wearing square glasses, which had exactly the shape of the markings the cat had around its eyes. She was also wearing an emerald cloak.
"How did you know it was me?", she asked.
"My dear Professor, I've never seen a cat sit so stiffly."
"You'd be stiff if you'd been sitting on a brick wall all day. Sir, is it true... what is being told? "
"I'm afraid so."
"Oh no... Lily, James, and Regulus... I just can't believe it."
Poor Sirius, the witch thought. She could not imagine how he must be feeling right now.
"I know it's horrible. But Harry will be safe here."
"Harry? But what about Lucy?"
"Narcissa Malfoy has agreed to look after her niece."
"You don't mean to separate them Albus," Professor McGonagall said, shocked. "They just lost their parents and-"
Dumbledore raised his hand.
"Don't worry," he said. "I never intended to separate the twins. If I may correct my statement, the two will be safe here."
"Are you sure? I've been watching them. These people are the worst kind of muggle imaginable," the bearded wizard looked at house number 4.
The wizard pointed out that it wouldn't be good for Lucy and Harry to grow up in the wizarding world. He said it would go to their heads.
The witch wasn't entirely convinced, but she couldn't argue against it either.
"How do you actually get here?"
"Hagrid brings them."
"You think it -wise- to trust Hagrid with something as important as this?"
"I would trust Hagrid with my life."
A loud hum broke the night's sleep. A flying motorbike came flying towards the two adults and stopped in front of them.
"Evening Hagrid."
"Good evening, sir."
"There were problems?"
"No sir. I got them out of the house just in time. They fell asleep just as we were passing Bristol."
The professors bowed their heads over the bundles. Inside of that bundle a little boy and a little girl.
They were babies, and the boy had a cut that looked like a bolt of lightning under the tuft of black hair.
The professors took one child each and Dumbledore turned to the Dursleys' house.
"Could I... say goodbye, sir?" asked Hagrid.
He leaned in and kissed the kids what was sure to be a scratchy, whiskery kiss. Then Hagrid let out a howl, which sounded like a wounded dog.
"Shhh! You're waking up the muggles," Professor McGonagall hissed.
"S- s- sorry, but I c- c- can't it - Lily, James an' Reggie dead - an' the poor little ones off ter live with Muggles now -" McGonagall patted Hagrid gently on the arm.
Then she and Professor Dumbledore gently laid the children in front of the front door.
Dumbledore pulled a letter from the gallery, placed it with the children and went back to the others.
The three stood there for a full minute and looked at the two little bundles; Hagrid's shoulders shrugged, Professor McGonagall blinked hard, and the twinkling light that usually shone in Dumbledore's eyes seemed to have gone out.
Then they are on their way. Dumbledore turned around one last time. He could just make out the bundle of blankets.
"Good luck, Harry and Lucy," he murmured.
He turned and with the flap of his cloak he was gone. The twins were still asleep. Not knowing they were special, not knowing they were famous.
They 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 and Lucy Potter - the children who lived."