Enigma~ Part 1|| Harry Potter x The Originals

Chapter I

     
It was just another day in Privet Drive. The same old people with the same old lives. Everything was normal. Well, everything except for the people in weird cloaks and the owls flying around everywhere. I mean, could you imagine it? Literal owls!

The sun had set a while ago. Everyone was done with their day and had gone to sleep. Except for one cat that had been staring at the corner for what felt like hours. Just then, a man appeared at the corner the cat had been watching, materializing so suddenly and silently you’d have thought he’d just popped out of the ground. The cat’s tail twitched, its eyes narrowing.

The man who had appeared out of nowhere was tall and thin, his long silver hair and beard gleaming in the faint light of the streetlamp. He wore a deep purple cloak, embroidered with symbols that seemed to shimmer and shift as he moved. In one hand, he held a peculiar object — a long, slender stick, barely visible under his sleeve.

The man glanced briefly at the cat, whose piercing gaze followed him with unnerving intensity. “I should have known,” he muttered, his voice low and calm. He raised his hand in a small, almost imperceptible gesture. The cat blinked, and in that instant, it wasn’t a cat anymore.

Standing in its place was a stern-looking woman with sharp features and square glasses, dressed in an emerald green cloak. Her expression was as unyielding as ever, though a glimmer of concern flickered in her eyes.

“Fancy seeing you here, Professor McGonagall,” said the man, a faint smile creeping across his lips.

“Albus,” she replied, folding her arms. “Do you really think it's wise to bring him here?”

Dumbledore smiled faintly, though his eyes, much like McGonagall’s, were somber. “It’s the only place where he will be safe. At least for now.”

McGonagall's gaze drifted toward the tidy houses lining Privet Drive. “These people… do you really believe they can raise him properly? They’re the worst sort of Muggles.”

“They are his only family left,” Dumbledore said quietly. “And despite their flaws, they will keep him from the world that would destroy him.”

“Do you know what everyone’s saying? About why he’s disappeared? About what finally stopped him?” she asked anxiously.

"What they’re saying,” she pressed on without giving him a chance to speak, “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 and Cassiopeia Black are — are — that they’re — dead.”

Dumbledore bowed his head, the weight of the news settling heavily on his shoulders. Professor McGonagall gasped, her hand flying to her mouth.

“Cassie, Lily, and James... I can’t believe it... I didn’t want to believe it... Oh, Albus...”

Dumbledore reached out, resting a comforting hand on her shoulder. “I know... I know...” he said heavily.

McGonagall's voice trembled as she continued. “That’s not all. They’re saying he tried to kill the Potters’ 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.”