Hairy Potter-Addams and the Philosopher's Stone: An Altogether Ooky Tale

The Boy Who Lived

Mr. and Mrs. Dursley of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much.

Thank goodness this story is not about them.

Albus and Minerva suffered a bit of a setback to their initial plans. To be fair, it was a perfectly reasonable expectation that the sound of a motorcycle outside would wake Vernon Dursley, even at two a.m. What the wizard and witch didn't expect was being spotted when they went to deliver Harry Potter to his aunt and uncle's house.

"Excuse me!" The gruff voice echoed from a window over their heads. "What in God's Name do you think you're doing?"

"Oh, dear, Albus," muttered Minerva. "Forget about the letter. We've been spotted. Perhaps we'd better explain in person."

"Quite right, Minerva." Albus stepped back into the path, away from the porch where he had just laid Harry and the letter explaining everything.

Vernon's silhouette was visible in the window. A light ignited in the bedroom, giving a bit of detail to his bedhead and walrus moustache. The Muggle turned his head and said something to whomever was within. Albus presumed Mr. Dursley was instructing his wife to contact the local authorities.

When Mr. Dursley turned back around, mouth open to challenge the perceived intruders again, Albus simply asked, "You are Vernon Dursley of number four, Privet Drive, correct, sir? And your wife is Petunia?"

In the dim backlighting, Vernon sneered, "Yes, what of it?"

"My name is Albus. My associate and I have come bearing grave news. Might we come inside? We're terribly sorry to disturb you at this hour, but it couldn't wait."

Petunia, wearing a blue nightgown and her hair in curlers, appeared next to her husband. "Vernon, they want a des—" The sentence was choked off the second Petunia set eyes upon the visitors. Her next word was laced with enough venom that Minerva wondered if even Severus could have developed an antidote: "You."

Albus was not ruffled. "Good evening, Mrs. Dursley. I hate to be the bearer of bad news. Alas, that is why my colleague and I have come. Might we come in?"

"I think not. Your kind isn't welcome in this house."

"Very well. We shall await you out here."

The window slammed shut. Minerva dashed to pick up Harry from the doorstep. She was thankful Hagrid had already taken his leave. A flying motorcycle and a half-giant would have made matters worse, she was certain. The shouting had awoken the infant, and she did her best to calm him as she stood by Albus's side. Albus flicked his Deluminator and allowed a single streetlamp to shine upon the solemn meeting.

In a few moments, the Dursleys came out onto the pavement in their house shoes and robes and stood before the magicians. Vernon crossed his arms and scowled at Minerva and Albus. Petunia, her lips pursed in a hard line, stood just behind her husband and narrowed her eyes at the blanket in Minerva's arms.

Albus introduced them. "My name is Albus Dumbledore; this is my friend, Professor Minerva McGonagall. Petunia, we were friends of your sister and brother-in-law. I'm sorry to be the one to tell you this, but they were murdered last night." At the last phrase, Albus's voice became tight and husky; it was hard work to keep his emotions under control.

Petunia's hand dropped from Vernon's shoulder. "Lily? She's...? How? Was it another of...you?"

Minerva felt the full weight of the letter she'd stuck in her pocket. She didn't need it now. "Yes, it was a wizard. A powerful one, ruthless. Lily and James died fighting to keep him from taking over both our world and yours. They died heroes, protecting magical folks and Mug—er, non-magical people alike. They succeeded." I hope. She couldn't bear to think that James, Lily, and so many others suffered or died for nothing.