Beyond Horizons

1.1 The Boy Who Lived

Disclaimers : I don't own any characters or settings apart from a few. All credits goes to J. K Rowling. ( Normal text is the Harry potter story line and text in bold is Marauders era reactions.)

The streets of Little Whinging were quiet, almost unnaturally so, under the blanket of night. The air was thick with a sense of anticipation. It seemed as though even the stars held their breath, waiting for something monumental to occur. A gentle breeze stirred the leaves, whispering secrets that only the night would hear. The houses stood silent and dark, their inhabitants asleep and unaware of the momentous events unfolding in their midst.

At the corner of the street, a man appeared, moving silently through the shadows. Nothing like this man had ever been seen on Privet Drive. He was tall, thin, and very old, judging by the silver of his hair and beard, which were both long enough to tuck into his belt. He was wearing long robes, a purple cloak that swept the ground, and high-heeled, buckled boots. His blue eyes were light, bright, and sparkling behind half-moon spectacles and his nose was very long and crooked, as though it had been broken at least twice.

"That's Headmaster," shouted Bill Weasley happily.

This man's name was Albus Dumbledore.

Christian narrowed his eyes, thinking about the unusual presence of their headmaster at a muggle village, that too at night. Something smells rotten, that's for sure.

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 busy rummaging in his cloak, looking for something. But he did seem to realize he was being watched, because he looked up suddenly at a cat, which was staring at him from the other end of the street.

"That's Minne," James shouted, only to be ignored by others.

For some reason, the sight of the cat seemed to amuse him. He chuckled and muttered, "I should have known."

He found what he was looking for in his inside pocket. It seemed to be a silver cigarette lighter.

"Aye aye! Albus Dumbledore smoking, who thought?" joked a very amused Anastasia.

"I know, right," said a very surprised Marlene, sharing a smile between the two.

He flicked it open, held it up in the air, and clicked it. The nearest street lamp went out with a little pop.

"Well, I think he's not," Anastasia muttered, making those around her chuckle at her disappointment.

He clicked it again -- the next lamp flickered into darkness.

"I want one!" shouted Barty and Royce at the same time.

Twelve times he clicked the Put-Outer, until the only lights left on the whole street were two tiny pinpricks in the distance, which were the eyes of the cat watching him.

"I am telling you, it's Minnie," said James once again.

Dumbledore slipped the Put-Outer back inside his cloak and set off down the street toward number four, where he sat down on the wall next to the cat. He didn't look at it, but after a moment he spoke to it.

"Fancy seeing you here, Professor McGonagall."

"I called it," cried James

"Shut up James," said a very exasperated Dorea.

He turned to smile at the tabby cat, but it had gone. Instead he was smiling at a rather severe-looking woman who was wearing square glasses exactly the shape of the markings the cat had had around its eyes. She, too, was wearing a cloak, an emerald one. Her black hair was drawn into a tight bun. She looked distinctly ruffled.