Disclaimer: The wonderful world of Harry Potter and the canon characters belong to J. K. Rowling, and I am only borrowing them to write for my and other people's enjoyment, without any intention of profiting from it. I thank this creative lady for blessing us with such a rich ground to build up our creativity on!

A/N: I am currently in the process of revising the first thirteen chapters to have them flow a little bit better, before continuing to write the rest. I might also correct a few issues I seemed to encounter with the time-line, but there will still be things that will remain as they were, like Fudge's earlier involvement.

Number Four, Privet Drive was an ordinary address, with an ordinary house and an ordinary car parked in front of an ordinary front garden. Mr. and Mrs Dursley – the tenants of this house – were proud to be as normal, as people were ought to be in their opinion. This family did not like to stand out from being perfectly average, in fact, they were thrilled to be mundane. They loathed anything strange or mysterious and they feared to be part of such.

Vernon Dursley was a large, beefy man, with a thick mustache on his puffed up face. He married Petunia, a tall, blonde woman, who appeared to be sickly thin, with a neck that was slightly longer than normal. Together, they also had an infant son, whose name was Dudley.

They thought of their lives as perfect. Mr. Dursley held a job that provided well for his family financially, and Mrs. Dursley was content being a housewife, who cared for their child and hosted small gatherings for her husband and his important co-workers.

The only downside of their bliss was, that they had a secret that would ruin their image of being perfectly ordinary, if it ever came to light. Petunia had a sister, who married a Lord. Now, that wasn't the part that they wanted to hide. The problem was, that Lord and Lady Potter were anything but ordinary, and that severely strained the relationship between the sisters.

James and Lily Potter were gifted by the ability to use magic. Their world was as un-Dursley-like, as it could possibly be. It was a world of witches and wizards, dragons and unicorns, potions and cauldrons and wooden sticks that functioned as wands. It was a world far behind the progression of its non-magical counterpart. It was a world where they used quill to write on parchment with ink, where they used owls to deliver letters, and where they had no inkling of what electricity even was.

The magical world was also dangerous. Next to the wonders of being able to fly on brooms, or being able to heal someone with a flick of a wand, there was an underlying fear to the use of dark spells, poisonous potions and curses that were fatal to those they struck.

It was one such curse, the darkest of them all, that made a huge impact on the magical world.

There was an evil individual, whom sworn to cleanse their world of those, who were in his opinion unfit to use magic, and those who defied his claim to rule over Magical Britain. He sparked a war between him and his followers, against those who believed his ideals to be barbaric and outdated. There was a lot of loss on the Light side of the conflict, with many going into hiding.

The Potters were one of the families, who had reason to disappear from public eye. There was a Prophecy surrounding their one year old son, that forebode the fall of the Dark Lord, at his hand. They had hid in a house that was under an ancient protection spell. The only person who knew their location was the Keeper of their most precious secret.

As it happened, they trusted the wrong friend with their lives. Peter Pettigrew had betrayed them. He joined the cult of Voldemort – called Death Eathers – and led him to their sanctuary, leading to the death of his ex-best friends, and the attempted murder of their child, Harry Potter.

The curse that changed many lives, especially those effected by the Prophecy, was the Killing Curse. One fateful Halloween night, when Pettigrew betrayed the Potters, the evil overlord's spirit lost its shell with the curse being reflected on him – from casting it on the child – ending his reign of terror.

Even the muggle world got wind of this event, as the celebrations had spilled from magical to mundane territory, with a lot of people dressed in strange and colourful robes, out and about in plain sight. On top of that, flocks of owls were flying around the area, which was a rather unusual sighting in Surrey.

Vernon Dursley was walking among the peculiarly dressed people, when a certain name had caught his attention, so he slowed down to eavesdrop on the conversation between an elderly man and a rather cheerful looking middle-aged woman.

"The Potters, that's right, rather unfortunate what happened to them." The man whispered, leaning close to his company.

"And poor little Harry, all alone in the world." Sighed the lady, and Mr. Dursley stopped dead in his tracks, as a cold dread had suddenly flooded him.

He decided to quickly turn around and head home to Petunia. If something happened to that blasted sister of hers, he did not want to be responsible for their little brat, and he knew that his wife would agree. They had Dudley's safety in mind, as a priority. He wasn't a particularly smart man, but he was aware that even though the names Potter and Harry on their own weren't a rarity, together with the weirdly cloaked people waving wooden sticks around, it could only mean one thing.

As he reached his destination, his eyes fell upon a tabby cat, who seemed to be looking at him in a rather un-cat-like manner, as if being a cat was only a disguise. He frowned at the animal, and attempted to swat at it.

"Shoo, you blasted fur-pile!" He grumbled, and when it didn't move an inch, he decided to force the bothersome feline away, throwing the poor thing off the garden wall. He didn't look to see if it was alright, he rather moved to make his way towards the entrance to his house. He grabbed his key, and turned it in the key-hole, pushing his way right inside.

Petunia greeted him with a rather timid kiss on the cheek, but one look at her husband had the blonde woman worried. Vernon appeared to be both white as a sheet, and red as a crab, which was a most curious feat to accomplish at the same time. His eyes were reflecting anger and fear.

Mrs. Dursley was correct to be concerned.

"Pack our suitcases at once, Pet! We need to go away for a while and we need to do it now!" He hurried her along, his voice deep, and laced with determination.

"Vernon, what are you talking about? What happened?" She asked, confusion apparent on her face.

"The Potters." He uttered, and his wife went rigid. "Something big happened in that blasted world of theirs, and I overheard that their son, Harold, or Harrison... No, Harry! Yes, their son, Harry, is apparently alone now. I don't know about you, but I don't want to be responsible for the tiny freak." He explained, as he ushered her into their bedroom to gather their essentials.

Petunia's heart sank in her chest. If Lily's son was alone, that could only mean that what her sister came to warn her about had come to pass. They were murdered by the madman that was after her nephew. The tall woman was not close to her sister. Ever since her Hogwarts letter first arrived, and their parents had found out that they had a witch in the family, all the attention centered around Lily. Mrs. Dursley envied her, and she felt very much left out by all that wonder and curiosity. She even wrote to the Headmaster of that exclusive school to see if she could at least visit, only to be disappointed. It was not difficult to start resenting what rejected her in the first place, and with that they have become estranged.

Lily's death struck her nonetheless. Even with all the bad blood between them, she did not wish harm to her, however she didn't want to be burdened by the responsibility of taking care of her offspring, especially because she was certain he wouldn't be ordinary either.

"Right. Let's take a vacation for a few weeks, at least." She agreed, and started to pack piles of clothes on top of other piles of clothes, neatly placing other tid-bits that she knew they would need into suitcases, and turned to go to the nursery to do the same with Dudley's belongings as well.

"That's my little pumpkin!" Vernon cooed to the baby in the crib, carefully lifting him out, and getting him ready for travel.

"Are you sure that they won't find us?" Petunia asked. "These might be freaks, but they are powerful." She frowned, as she zipped up their luggage.

Her husband steeled himself, gave their son to his wife, and went to grab his shotgun from it's secret hiding place. "I will shoot their heads right off their shoulders, if they try!" He promised.

While Mr. Dursley wasn't a particularly nice man, he was fiercely loyal to his family. He loved his wife with a passion, and he doted on Dudley. Anyone or anything threatening them would have him to deal with, and that was a promise. No freaks would stand in Vernon Dursley's way!

The tall woman nodded, and left the room to walk into the kitchen, putting together some food to last them for a few days, while feeding his hungry son some snacks. Once she filled a deep woven basket with edible goods, and added some water and juice to tide them over, she placed it on top of the kitchen table, and waited for Vernon to put everything in the car.

It was night time when the Dursley family drove away into some unknown, but most likely ordinary location, to hide from the magical folk.

The cat that was previously thrown off the garden wall, made it's way back to the house, slighty limping, courtesy of the rude man. The cat, that was not really a cat, had gazed over a street corner, where a rather tall, elderly man appeared out of nowhere. He was wearing a thin purple cloak, his long silver hair reaching just below his lower back, with a beard almost as long as his hair. He looked around, as if he was lost, until his gaze rested on the tabby cat, a slight twinkle appearing in his eyes.

The man chuckled to himself and pulled out a most curious object from one of his pockets. It was small and silver, and when he clicked it, the nearest light flickered and faded. He repeated this motion a few times, until the whole street was completely engulfed in darkness.

"Professor McGonagall! What a pleasure to be in your company." He nodded towards the spot the cat was previously sitting on, but he found himself face to face with a stern looking woman, who appeared to be knackered, and slightly angry. She had been watching the Dursleys the whole day, and she was not impressed at all. She frowned at the sharp pain she felt in her left ankle, but she would have to take care of that later, as she had more pressing matters to attend to.

"Headmaster Dumbledore." She returned his greeting curtly. "How are the celebrations?" She inquired, knowing that Albus had attended a fair many of them thus far. She would have accompanied him, but he tasked her with watching this family of three instead, so she had no other choice.

"Most splendid, if I do say so myself. I have passed by dozens of feasts, and flavoured many culinary delicacies, but enough of that..." He said. "What did you find out?" He asked, his gaze traveling to the house, and even though it was dark, he could see the outlines of the brick building.

"Albus, these are the most infuriating, self-centered, selfish people that I have ever had the displeasure to 'meet' in my life." She blurted out, and the wizard raised an eyebrow. "Why did you ask me to observe them in the first place?" She asked, her eyes fixated on his.

"This is the only family he has now." He admitted, and the old witch's face was drained of all colour.

"You cannot be serious! You cannot let them raise him!" She spluttered in indignation, shrugging off the touch that her company no doubt figured would be a calming one.

"I have no other choice. It's imperative that Harry stays with his Aunt and Uncle. I have written them a letter, in which I explained everything." Dumbledore said firmly.

"A letter? How could you possibly explain these matters in a letter? They can't possibly understand him! Harry Potter needs to be raised among his own kind. He is a hero – a legend – everyone will know his name and his history. No muggle would come close to grasping what he's been through!" She raised her voice, her ire apparent in her words.

"Exactly." He agreed. "What he accomplished would be enough to turn anyone's head. Famous before he can even talk! Famous for something that he won't even remember... The boy will need a sense of normalcy, there is no need to needlessly overwhelm him!" He explained, like talking to a small child, and the witch sighed in defeat.

"Yes, of course. You have a point... How is he getting here?" She asked.

"Oh, Hagrid is bringing him." He smiled a serene smile.

"What?!" She asked incredulously. "You let that..." She took a deep breath to gather herself, before she accidentally insulted the kind half-giant. "Do you think that's appropriate? Given the circumstances..."

"I trust Hagrid with my life." Came the simple reply.

"I am not saying that he isn't trustworthy, but Albus, you have to admit he is rather, um, clumsy." She pointed out, when suddenly a faint rumbling sound was audible in the distance, and it grew steadily louder as they looked up to the sky. A huge motorcycle with an enormous individual on board had soon landed next to them.

"Headmaster Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall." He greeted them, and got off the monstrosity that he arrived with, carefully holding a bundle of blankets in his huge, beefy arms.

"Hagrid, as glad as I am to see you, just where did you get this motorcycle?" Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. He had never seen this vehicle before, so he was unsure whom it belonged to.

"Oh, I borrowed it from Sirius Black." He explained, and looked down at the small boy peacefully sleeping in his arms. His eyes were moist, and he had to blow his nose from the gathering emotions he was feeling.

The witch and wizard both leaned forward to look at the slumbering baby ensconced in the fluffy blanket protection. The baby boy had a soft tuft of black hair, and over his forehead they saw a curious lightning bolt shaped scar.

"Is that where...?" McGonagall trailed off, her voice trembling.

"Indeed." He confirmed. "I am afraid he is going to wear that scar his whole life."

"Can't you do something about it?" She asked hopefully, only to be disappointed.

"Even if I could, I would not. Scars can be useful. Anyway, we must hurry, before anyone realizes that we are here and suspicions begin to arise." He said, and motioned for Hagrid to hand Harry over to him.

"Could I please say goodbye to him first?" The half-giant sniffled, leaning over the tiny baby to place a clumsy kiss on his forehead, only to burst into tears.

"Shh!" McGonagall urged him. "Quiet yourself, or we will be found out. I know you will miss him, so will I, but this must be done!" She said, hiding the fact that she saw the Dursley family going away indefinitely. She would take care of these matters later, just as soon as she was able to.

"S-s-sorry!" He mumbled tearfully, as he attempted to get a handle on himself, placing Harry in a basket, on the doorstep of the house, and stepping backwards to let Dumbledore place the letter over the snoozing form of the child.

"Well, we must be going now! There is no point in staying here any longer." The elderly wizard said firmly, and ushered his companions further from the house. "We might as well join the celebrations in his honour!" He added, as if that would make things easier.

"Right..." Hagrid muttered, wiping his tear-streaked face with his sleeves, and got back on the motorcycle once more, looking at the Professors. "Goodnight Headmaster, Professor McGonagall!" He muttered moodily, and took off to the sky.

"I suppose I will see you soon, Professor McGonagall." Dumbledore nodded towards the witch, who was still gazing over the child they were supposed to abandon here.

"Of course." Minerva replied and popped away, as she knew that she needed to keep up certain pretenses. She made her way towards Gringotts Bank, rather stealthily, as everyone was focused on celebrating the fall of Voldemort.

Minerva McGonagall had no intention of leaving Harry Potter to the fate, the great Albus Dumbledore was dooming him to, but she couldn't act while he was around, because he would most definitely stop her, and she was aware that he wouldn't hold back from Obliviating her if he had to. The wizard was a great asset to the Light side of the war, but the Transfiguration Professor knew that he worked in the Grey areas more often than not.

Dumbledore was left standing on Privet Drive, once again using his silver contraption to reverse the effects of it. The street was bathed in the dimmed light of the lamp posts once more, as he leaned over the boy and said his own goodbyes.

"Good luck Harry Potter! Merlin knows you will need it." He whispered, and turned around on his heel, disappearing into the night.

It was not long after that, that a small number of goblin warriors appeared on the street, and took the child into their protective custody, until the Potters' will could be read. No one saw them move, and no one would know about this, until it would be too late to change things.

Professor McGonagall was true to the trust and respect her favourite students had in her. She protected Harry Potter, as he deserved to be protected. Now it was up to Fate itself to decide what happened next.

A/N: I had this idea about having Professor Flitwick raise Harry, because that would most certainly put an interesting twist on things. I have to say that Harry Crow is one of my inspirations, mostly for the goblin angle, however I won't use any goblin characters of robst's, I just wanted to acknowledge him for the inspiration.

I would also like to say that I did re-word and re-work the Dumbledore-McGonagall scene from Chapter 1 of the first book, because I didn't want to include an excerpt that long from the book, so I used my own imagination. However what seems familiar to you, I do not claim to be my own.

Thank you for your time, and I hope you will enjoy reading this!