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otunnicliffe · 7 months

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Chloe + Harry Potter And The Philosophers Stone

Chapter One: The Twins Who Lived

'Alright then Dumbledore, do you want to read the first chapter?'

Albus Dumbledore simply nods at McGonagall, and opens the book. 'This Chapter', he booms, 'Is called 'The Twins Who Lived'.

'Ooh! That'll be Chloe and Harry!' Alice exclaims to Gwendolyn excitedly.

Mr and Mrs Dursley of-

'Wait, I thought this was about Chloe and Harry?' Regulus says, abruptly stopping Dumbledore's storytelling. 'Who are the Dursleys?'

'Dursley... that name does ring a bell, but I can't put my finger on why.' Gwendolyn ponders.

'Isn't your sister, Petunia, dating a Dursley?' Kimberly asks.

'AHA! That's it!' Gwendolyn exclaims. 'Is it?'

'Yes, Miss Evans, the Dursleys are your sister and her husband,' McGonagall says.

'Why are we starting the story off with a bunch of muggles?' Narcissa scorns. 'Why aren't we talking about Chloe and Harry, or even Gwendolyn and James?' With this, everyone erupts into conversations filled with confusion about the beginning of this tale.

'Everyone!' Dumbledore booms, and the room instantly falls silent. 'Everything will be exclaimed. Now, if you all don't mind, let's use our ears and listen to the tale.'

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

'Don't exactly know why you'd be so proud of being normal,' Xenophilius mutters to Barty Jr. 'I personally find normal to be very boring indeed'.

'I agree mate,' Barty Jr whispered back.

They were the last people you'd expect to be involved in anything strange or mysterious, because they just didn't hold with such nonsense.

Mr Dursley was the director of a firm called Grunnings, which made drills.

'I won't lie,' Sirius exclaims, as he shuffled down in his beanbag, hands going behind his head, 'That sounds like the deadest job ever.'

'I agree,' Calls Peter, mouth full of sweet treats.

'Ew, Pete!' Arabella groans. 'Swallow before you wallow!'

'Sorry,' Peter muffles, clearly not being very sorry at all.

He was a big, beefy man with hardly any neck, although he did have a very large mustache.

'He sounds like a right looker,' Andromeda exclaims, sarcastically, and the room erupted into laughter.

Mrs Dursley was thin and blonde and had nearly twice the usual amount of neck, which became useful as she spent so much of her time craning over garden fences, spying on the neighbours.

'That is deffo your sister, Gwen!' Arabella announces, Kimberly next to her chuckling in agreement.

'This book isn't very nice about my poor sister,' Gwendolyn says, whole trying not to laugh at the trueness of the definition of Petunia.

The Dursleys had a small son called Dudley and in their opinion there was no finer boy anywhere.

'This is a lovely description and all,' says Bellatrix, who was already laid back on her seat, already very bored. 'But what does this have to do with us?'

'Patience, Miss Lestrange, Patience.'

The Dursleys had everything they wanted, but they also had a secret, and their greatest fear was that somebody would discover it. They didn't think they could bear it if anyone found out about the Potters.

'What's wrong with the Potters?' James cried, defensively as he suddenly sat up in his chair.

'Do you want a list?' Severus cut in.

'Snivellous, watch it!

'James leave it!' Gwendolyn exclaimed, and James gave Severus the finger and turned away from him.

Mrs Potter was Mrs Dursleys sister, but they hadn't met for several years; in fact, Mrs Dursley pretended she didn't have a sister,

'Me and my sister don't get along?' Gwendolyn exclaimed sadly. This garnered sympathetic looks from most of the people int hat room, apart from a few Slytherins, who really couldn't care less.

,because her sister and her good-for-nothing husband

'Way harsh!' James objected. 'I am NOT good-for-nothing!'

were as unDursleyish as it was possible to be.

'Well I don't want to be like them anyway,' James exclaimed proudly, 'Do we Gwen?'

'Nope,' Gwen responded, letting out a small smile. James took this as a win.

The Dursleys shuddered to think what the neighbours would say if the Potters arrived in the street. The Dursleys knew that the Potters had children too, twins, one girl and one boy, but they had never seen either of them. Those children were another good reason for keeping the Potters away; they didn't want Dudley mixing with a child like that.

When Mr and Mrs Dursley woke up on a dull, grey Tuesday out story starts

'Merlin, has it only just started!' Bellatrix groans.

,there was nothing about the cloudy sky outside to suggest that strange and mysterious things would soon be happening all over the country.

'What things?' Asked Peter, looking up from all the food he'd been eating.

'If you let the man talk, he'll tell us, stop interrupting!' Amos exclaims, also already fed up of this book.

'That was rude,' Peter mutters, but nonetheless shutting up to let Dumbledore continue.

Mr Dursley hummed as he picked out his most boring tie for work and Mrs Dursley gossiped away happily as she wrestled a screaming Dudley into his high chair.

'Lovely child,' drawls Lucius, with disgust.

None of them noticed a large tawny owl flutter past the window.

At half past eight, Mr Dursley picked up his briefcase, pecked Mrs Dursley on the cheek and tried to kiss Dudley goodbye but missed, because Dudley was now having a tantrum and throwing his cereal at the wall.

'What a delightful child', Kimberly quipped, not even trying to hide her obvious sarcasm.

'Little tyke' chortled Mr Dursley as he left the house. He got into his car and backed out of number four's drive.

'He's got a car!' Exclaimed Arthur excitedly, looking up.

'Most people in the Muggle world do,' Gwendolyn explained.

'Well I am very jealous of Muggles!'

It was on this corner of the street that he noticed the first sign of something peculiar- a cat reading a map.

Everyone suddenly turned to look at McGonagall.

'You're in this story too!' Amos exclaimed.

'Well of course, Mr Diggory,' She said, trying her hardest to hold back her smile.

For a second, Mr Dursley didn't realize what he had seen- then he jerked his head around to look again. There was the tabby cat standing on the corner of Privet Drive, but there wasn't a map in sight. What could he have been thinking?

'Oh Minnie, confusing Muggles yet again,' Sirius remarks, grinning broadly.

It must have been a trick of the light. Mr Dursley blinked and stared at the cat. It stared back.

'McGonagall, no offense, but you really need to work on your being a cat skills,' Regulus jokes.

As Mr Dursley drove around the corner and up the road, he watched the cat in his mirror. It was now reading the sign that said Privet Drive- no, looking at the sign; cats couldn't read maps or signs.

'Lies, we all know one who can.' Molly exclaims, pointing at McGonagall giddily.

Mr Dursley gave himself a little shake and put the cat out of his mind. As he drove towards town he thought of nothing except a large order of drills he was hoping to get that day.

But on the edge of town, drills were driven out of his mind by something else. As he sat in the usual morning traffic jam, he couldn't help noticing that there seemed to be a lot of strangely dressed people about.

'Wizards wearing wizarding clothes in the Muggle world?' Alice quizzed.

'That's strange. That's like one of the things we know not to do!' Narcissa remarks, also looking puzzled.

People in cloaks. Mr Dursley couldn't bear people who dressed in funny clothes- the get-ups you saw on young people! He supposed this was some stupid new fashion. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel and his eyes fell on a huddle of these weirdos standing quite close by. Mr Dursley was enraged to see that a couple of them weren't young at all; why, that man had to be older than he was, and wearing an emerald green cloak!

'Something big has happened,' Murmured Barty, 'Something huge in our world'.

The nerve of him! But then it struck Mr Dursley that this was probably some silly stunt- these people were obviously collecting for something...

'Stupid muggles!' Chortled Bellatrix.

...yes that would be it. The traffic moved on, and a few minutes later, Mr Dursley arrived in the Grunnings car park, his mind back on drills.

Mr Dursley always sat with his back to the window in his office on the ninth floor. If he hadn't he might have found it harder to concentrate on drills that morning. He didn't see the owls swooping past in broad daylight, though people down in the street did; they pointed and gazed open-mouthed as owl after owl sped overhead.

'I'm presuming that it isn't normal for owls to do that in the Muggle world?' Andromeda asks Gwendolyn.

'No. it's not at all,' Gwendolyn responds, brows furrowed in confusion.

'Question.' Remus says. 'Why are we reading about this? What about Gwen or Prongs? Or Chloe and Harry?'

'Patience, Mr Lupin, and all will be revealed.'

Most of them had never seen an owl even at night-time. Mr Dursley, however, had a perfectly fine owl-free morning. He yelled at five different people. He made several important telephone calls

'What's a telephone?' Arthur asks.

Gwendolyn got him a pen and a sheet of paper, and handed it to him with the instruction of 'write what you don't know and I'll explain later'.

and shouted a bit more. He was in a very good mood until lunch-time, when he thought he'd stretch his legs and walk across the road to buy himself a bun from the bakers opposite.

'Lard-arse,' Arabella exclaimed.

He'd forgotten all about the people in cloaks until he passed a group of them next to the baker's. He eyed them angrily as he passed. He didn't know why, but they made him uneasy. This lot were whispering excitedly, too, and he couldn't see a single collecting tin.

'Stupid Muggle, they aren't collecting anything!' Bellatrix says.

It was on his way back past them, clutching a large doughnut in a bag, that he caught a few words of what they were saying.

'Is this when we find out what happened?' Regulus said, trying to contain his excitement.

Everyone now, even Bellatrix, was listening intently.

'The Potters, that's right, that's what I heard- yes, their children, Chloe and Harry-'

'What happened to them?' Asked Gwendolyn, looking nervous.

'Why is everyone talking about us?' James asked, also looking nervous.

'Patience Miss Evans and Mr Potter, all will be explained.'

Mr Dursley stopped dead. Fear flooded him. He looked back at the whisperers as if he wanted to say something to them, but thought better of it.

He dashed back across the road, hurried up to his office, snapped at his secretary not to disturb him, seized his telephone and had almost finished dialing home when he changed his mind. He put the receiver down and stroked his mustache, thinking... no, he was being stupid. Potter wasn't such an unusual name. He was sure that there were lots of people called potter that had children named Chloe and Harry. Come to think of it, he wasn't even sure his niece and nephew were called Chloe and Harry. He'd never even seen either of them, the girl or the boy. It might have been Charlotte and Harvey. Or Clara and Harold.

'Harold!' James exclaimed, his nose wrinkling in disgust. 'What a horrible name, why would I name my child that!'

There was no point in worrying Mrs Dursley, she always got so upset at the mention of her sister. He didn't blame her- if he'd had a sister like that..

'A sister like what!' Arabella exclaimed defensively. 'Gwendolyn is so much better than Petunia, that bitch!'

'I agree!' James says. 'I'd be more worried about his wife more than anything else.

...but all the same, those people in cloaks...

He found it a lot harder to concentrate on drills that afternoon, and when he left the building at five o'clock, he was still so worried that he walked straight into someone just outside of the door.

'Sorry,' he grunted, as the tiny old man stumbled and almost fell. It was two seconds before Mr Dursley realized that the man was wearing a violet cloak. He didn't seem at all upset at being almost knocked to the ground. On the contrary, his face split into a wide smile and he said in a squeaky voice that made passers-by stare: 'Don't be sorry my dear sir, for nothing could upset me today! Rejoice, for You-Know-Who has gone at last!

'WHAT!' Came the collective shout from everyone in that room, excluding the teachers.

'He's gone?' James exclaimed loudly, 'But how?'

'That will be revealed soon, Mr Potter.'

Even Muggles like yourself should be celebrating, this happy happy day!'

And the old man hugged Mr Dursley around the middle and walked off.

Mr Dursley stood rooted to the spot. He had been hugged by a complete stranger. He also thought he had been called a Muggle, whatever that was. He was rattled. He hurried to his car and set off home, hoping his was imagining things, which he had never hoped before, because he didn't approve of imagination.

'Shock me,' Remus said quietly. Kimberly chuckled.

As he pulled into the driveway of number four, the first thing he saw- and it didn't improve his mood- was the tabby cat he'd spotted this morning.

Everyone turned to stare at McGonagall once again.

It was now sitting on his garden wall. He was sure that it was the same one; it had the same markings around its eyes.

'Shoo!' said Mr Dursley loudly.

The cat didn't move. It just gave him a stern look. Was this normal cat behaviour, Mr Dursley wondered. Trying to pull himself together, he let himself into the house. He was still determined not to mention anything to his wife.

Mrs Dursley had had a nice, normal day. She told him over dinner all about Mrs Next Door's problems with her daughter and how Dudley had learnt a new word (shan't!). Mr Dursley tried to act normally. When Dudley had been put to bed, he went into the living-room in time to catch the last report on the evening news:

'And finally, bird-watchers everywhere have reported that the nation's owls have been behaving very unusually today. Although owls normally hunt at night and are hardly ever seen in daylight, there have been hundreds of sightings of these birds flying in every direction since sunrise. Experts are unable to explain why the owls have suddenly changed their sleeping pattern.' The news reader allowed himself a grin. 'Most mysterious. And now, over to Jim McGuffin with the weather. Going to be any more showers of owls tonight, Jim?'

'Well, Ted,' said the weatherman, 'I don't know about that, but it's not only the owls that have been acting oddly today. Viewers as far apart as Kent, Yorkshire and Dundee have been phoning to tell me that instead of the rain I promised yesterday, they've had a downpour of shooting stars!'

'Shooting stars!' Exclaimed Gwendolyn. 'No wonder they're all wondering what's going on!'

Perhaps people have been celebrating Bonfire Night early- it's not until next week, folks! But I can promise a wet night tonight.'

Arthur added 'Bonfire Night' to his list.

Mr Dursley sat frozen in his armchair. Shooting stars all over Britain? Owls flying by daylight? Mysterious people in cloaks all over the place? And a whisper, a whisper about the Potters...

Mrs Dursley came into the living-room carrying two cups of tea. It was no good. He'd have to say something to her. He cleared his throat nervously. 'Er- Petunia, dear- you haven't heard from your sister lately, have you?'

As he expected, Mrs Dursley looked shocked and angry. After all, they normally pretended she didn't have a sister.

'I always knew she didn't like me, but I didn't think she would take it this far!' Gwendolyn exclaimed, sadly. She once again received sympathetic looks from most of the inhabitants of the room. James put his arm around her comfortingly, and she softly smiled.

'No,' she said sharply. 'Why?'

'Funny stuff on the news,' Mr Dursley mumbled.' Owls... shooting stars... and there were a lot of funny-looking people in town today...'

'So?' snapped Mrs Dursley.

'Well I just thought... maybe... it was something to do with... you know.. her lot.'

'Is that us he's referring to?' Andromeda asks. 'Witches and Wizards?' Dumbledore nodded.

Mrs Dursley sipped her tea through pursed lips. Mr Dursley wondered whether he dared tell her he'd heard the name 'Potter'. He decided he didn't dare. Instead, he said, as casually as he could. 'This twins- they'd be about Dudley's age now, wouldn't they?'

'I suppose so,' Said Mrs Dursley stiffly.

"What's their names again? Clara and Howard, isn't it?'

'Chloe and Harry. Nasty, common name, if you ask me.'

'Says the one who named their child 'Dudley''. Kimberly scoffed.

'Chloe and Harry are nice names, especially in comparison to Dudley!' Regulus agreed.

'Oh, yes,' said Mr Dursley, his heart sinking horribly. 'Yes, I quite agree.'

'He can't talk about names!' Gwendolyn says defensively. 'His name is Vernon.'

This sent James into a pit of laughter.

'Who names their child Vernon?' Alice says, giggling.

He didn't say another word on the subject as they went upstairs to bed. While Mrs Dursley was in the bathroom, Mr Dursley crept to the bedroom window and peered down into the front garden. The cat was still there. it was staring down Privet Drive as though it was waiting for something.

'But what!' Remus asks, getting rather annoyed. 'What does this have to do with Gwen and Prongs?'

'Patience, Mr Lupin.'

'I don't have that at the moment.'

Was he imagining things? Could all this have anything to do with the Potters? If it did.. if it got out that they were related to a pair of-

'Pair of what?' James asks, defensively. 'What's wrong with me and Gwen?'

well, he didn't think he could bear it.

'Well, I can't bear the fact that I'm gonna be related to you!' James says. 'Such a horrible, boring man!'

The Dursleys got into bed. Mrs Dursley fell asleep quickly but Mr Dursley lay awake, turning it all over in his mind. His last, comforting thought before he feel asleep was that even if the Potters were involved, there was no reason for them to come near him and Mrs Dursley. The Potters knew very well what he and Petunia thought about them and their kind...

'What's his issue with us?' Amos asks.

'He perceives us as not normal,' Xenophilius explains. 'And he only likes normal things.'

He couldn't see how he and Petunia could get mixed up in anything that might be going on. He yawned and turned over. It couldn't affect them...

How very wrong he was.

'What do you mean by that?' James asked quizzically.

'Do we turn up at their doorstep?' Gwendolyn asks.

'Patience, Miss Evans, Mr Potter.'

Mr Dursley might have been drifting into an uneasy sleep, but the cat on the the wall outside was showing no signs of sleepiness.

All eyes again returned to McGonagall.

It was sitting as still as a statue, its eyes fixed unthinkingly on the far corner of Privet Drive. It didn't so much as quiver when a car door slammed in the next street, nor when two owls swooped overhead. In fact, it was nearly midnight before the cat moved at all.

'Where you not bored?' Regulus asks.

A man appeared on the corner the cat had been watching, appeared so suddenly and silently you'd have thought he'd just popped out of the ground.

All eyes went to Dumbledore.

'Is it you, sir?' Molly asks.

Dumbledore shrugs, but the grin on his face gave it away that it was, in fact, him.

The cat's tail twitched and its eyes narrowed.

Nothing like this man had ever been seen in 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 which 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. This man's name was Albus Dumbledore.

'But why are you at Privet Drive?' Remus asks. 'What happened?'

'Once again, patience Mr Lupin.'

Albus Dumbledore didn't seem to realise 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 realise he was being watched, because he looked up suddenly at the cat, which was still staring at him from the other end of the street. For some reason, the sight of the cat seemed to amuse him. He chuckled and muttered 'I should have known'.

He had found what he was looking for in his inside pocket. It seemed to be a silver cigarette lighter. He flicked it open, held it up into the air and clicked it. The nearest street light went out with a pop.

'Oh that's so cool!' Frank exclaimed.

He clicked it again- the next lamp flickered into darkness. Twelve times he clicked the Put-Outer, until the only lights left in the whole street were two tiny pinpricks in the distance, which were the eyes of the cat watching him. If anyone looked out of their window now, even beady-eyed Mrs Dursley, they wouldn't be able to see anything that was happening down on the pavement.

'I bet your sister would have still tried though, right Gwen?' Arabella teased. Gwendolyn chuckled lightly.

Dumbledore slipped the Put-Outer back inside his cloak and set off down the street towards 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.'

He turned to smile at the tabby, but it had gone. Instead, he was smiling at a rather severe-looking women who was wearing square glasses exactly the shape of the markings the cat had around its eyes.

'That's our Minnie alright!' Sirius joked, smiling at the teacher.

She too, was wearing a cloak, an emerald one. Her black hair was drawn into a tight bun. She looked distinctly ruffled.

'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' said Professor McGonagall.

'All day? When you could have been celebrating? I must have passes a dozen feasts and parties on the way here.'

Professor McGonagall sniffed angrily. 'Oh yes, everyone's celebrating, all right,' she said impatiently. 'You'd think they'd be a bit more careful, but no- even the Muggles have noticed something's going on/ It was on their news.' She jerked her head back at the Dursleys' dark living-room window. 'I heard it. Flocks of owls... shooting stars.. Well, they're not completely stupid. They were bound to notice something. Shooting stars down in Kent- I bet that was Dedalus Diggle. He never had much sense.'

Everyone in the room recognised the name. Diggle was a Hufflepuff a few years above them, and they all happened to agree with McGonagall on her evaluation of him.

'You can't blame them,' said Dumbledore gently. 'We've had precious little to celebrate for eleven years'.

'I know that,' said Professor McGonagall irritably. 'But that's no reason to lose our heads. People are being downright careless, out on the streets in broad daylight, not even dressed in Muggle clothes, swapping rumours.'

Everyone's head poked up at this.

She threw a sharp, sideways glance at Dumbledore here, as though hoping he was going to tell her something, but he didn't so she went on: 'A fine thing it would be if, on the very day You-Know-Who seems to have disappeared at last, the Muggles found out about us all. I suppose he really has gone, Dumbledore?'

'It certainly seems so,'

Everyone gasped.

'But how!' Barty Jr asked.

said Dumbledore. 'We have much to be thankful for. Would you care for a sherbet lemon?'

Arthur wrote 'Sherbet Lemon' on his list.

'A what?'

'A sherbet lemon. They're a kind of Muggle sweet I'm rather fond of.'

Arthur crossed it off his list.

'No, thank you,' said Professor McGonagall coldly, as though she didn't think this was the moment for sherbet lemons. 'As I say. even if You-Know-Who has gone-'

'My dear Professor, surely a sensible person like yourself can call him by his name? All this "You-Know-Who" nonsense- for eleven years I have been trying to persuade people to call him by his proper name: Voldemort'

Everyone in the room let out an involuntary shudder, except Dumbledore.

Professor McGonagall flinched, but Dumbledore, who was unsticking two sherbet lemons, seemed not to notice. 'It all gets so confusing if we keep saying "You-Know-Who". I have never seen any reason to be frightened of saying Voldemort's name.'

Another shudder from everyone.

'I know you haven't,' said Professor McGonagall, sounding half-exasperated, half-admiring. 'But you're different. Everyone knows you're the only one You-Know- oh, all right, Voldemort- was frightened of.'

'You flatter me,' said Dumbledore calmly. 'Voldemort had powers I will never have.'

'Only because you're too- well- noble to use them.'

'It's lucky it's dark. I haven't blushed so much since Madam Pomfrey like my new earmuffs.'

Alice and Molly giggled to each other at that.

Professor McGonagall shot a sharp look at Dumbledore and said, 'The owls are nothing to the rumours that are flying around. You know what everyone's saying? About why he's disappeared? About what finally stopped him?'

'Are we finding out now?' Remus asks.

'Yes, Mr Lupin.' Everyone was now sat up, attention fully on the story, the suspense in the air thick as they awaited to hear what had happened.

It seemed that Professor McGonagall had reached the point she was most anxious to discuss, the real reason she had been waiting on a cold hard wall all day, for neither as a cat nor as a woman had she fixed Dumbledore with such a piercing stare as she did now. It was plain that whatever 'everyone' was saying, she was not going to believe it until Dumbledore told her it was true. Dumbledore, however, was choosing another sherbet lemon and did not answer.

'What they're saying,' she pressed on. 'is that last night Voldemort turned up in Godric's Hollow. He went to find the Potters.

Everyone turned and looked at Gwen and James, whose faces had turned pale.

'I think I know what's to come next, James,' Gwen says softly, tears filling her blue eyes.

James clearly knew what she meant, and grabbed her hand tightly. 'Don't say that.'

The rumour is that Gwendolyn and James Potter are- are- that they're- dead.'

A gasp erupted from the room.

'Knew it,' Gwendolyn said quietly, tears now spilling from her eyes.

'We die?' James asks, voice croaky, as he starts to softly cry too.

'I'm afraid so,' Dumbledore says solemnly.

Arabella lets out a small sob, followed by Kimberly, Molly and Alice doing the same. The others just started at the pair in shock, tears in some of their eyes. Sirius mouth gapes open, silent tears streaming from his face.

'We'll give you all a few minutes to get used to that,' McGonagall says softly, feeling hot tears pricking her own eyeballs.

A few minutes pass, and a still sniffling Gwendolyn and James say that they are ready to continue.

Dumbledore bowed his head. Professor McGonagall gasped. 'Gwen and James... I can't believe it... oh, Albus...'

'Aww, Minnie you care!' James says, giving her a water smile.

'I have a question,' Molly says. 'What happens to Chloe and Harry?'

'Yeah, the book is about them, so they haven't died,' Kimberly says. 'So were they not in the house at the time or something?'

'That part is coming up now.' Dumbledore announces.

Dumbledore reached out and patted her on the shoulder. 'I know... I know...' he said heavily.

Professor McGonagall's voice trembled as she went on. 'That's not all. They're saying he tried to kill the Potter's twins, Chloe and Harry. But he couldn't kill those little children.

'WHAT!' The room broke out into.

'Prongs, your children are the reason why he's gone!' Remus said, putting the pieces together.

'Really?' James says, as he and Gwendolyn look to Dumbledore for some kind of explanation.

'Mr Lupin was correct, your children did stop Voldemort.'

'But how?' Bellatrix spoke up, looking completely dumbfounded. 'You're telling me that he killed all those people and was as powerful as he was, but couldn't kill two kids?'

'That is correct, Miss Black, but the rest of the explanation, I'm afraid, you'll have to wait to find out what happened.'

'Are we ready to continue?' McGonagall cuts in.

With everyone nodding in agreement Dumbledore continues.

No one knows why or how, but they're saying that when he couldn't kill Chloe and Harry Potter, Voldemort's power somehow broke- and that's why he's gone.'

'James, you have some powerful offspring, mate!' Amos announces, everyone nodding in agreement.

Dumbledore nodded glumly.

'It's- it's true?' faltered Professor McGonagall. 'After all he's done... all the people he's killed.. he could kill two little children? It's just astounding... of all the things to stop him... but how in the name of heaven did Chloe and Harry survive?'

'We can only guess,' said Dumbledore. 'We may never know.'

Professor McGonagall pulled out a lace handkerchief and dabbed her eyes beneath her spectacles. Dumbledore gave a great sniff as he took a golden watch from his pocket and examined it. It was a very odd watch. It had twelve hands but no numbers; instead, little planets were moving around the edge. It must have made sense to Dumbledore, though, because he put it back in his pocket and said 'Hagrid's late.

'Hagrid's in this story?' Gwendolyn asked happily. Hagrid had just become the Groundkeeper for Hogwarts very recently, and Gwendolyn found him very lovely and kind.

'Great, just what this story needs,' Lucius remarks to Narcissa and Bellatrix. 'That big oaf.'

I suppose it was he who told you I'd be here, by the way?'

'Yes,' said Professor McGonagall. 'And I don't suppose you're going to tell me why you're here, of all places?'

'I've come to bring Chloe and Harry to their aunt and uncle.

'YOU'RE WHAT!' James and Gwendolyn shouted.

'Why would you do that!' James asked, looking at Dumbledore as is he'd gone mad.

'My sister hates me, and you want to give her my children?' Gwendolyn asks, anger rising in her voice. 'She's going to treat them terribly!'

'How come either me, Kimberly, Remus, Sirius or even Peter don't get them?' Arabella asks.

'It's a long story that is explained later, but you need to know it was for the best,' Dumbledore replied.

'I don't believe you!' Gwendolyn says.

Before starting an argument, Dumbledore just keeps on reading.

They're the only family they've got left now.'

'You don't mean- you can't mean the people who live here?' cried Professor McGonagall, jumping to her feet and pointing at number four. 'Dumbledore- you can't.

'See, McGonagall agrees it's a bad idea!' James says.

'Unfortunately, Mr Potter, it had to be done.' Dumbledore said calmly.

You couldn't find two people who are less like us. And they've got this son- I saw him kicking his mother all the way up the street. screaming for sweets. Chloe and Harry Potter come and live here!'

'It's the best place for them,' said Dumbledore firmly. 'His aunt and uncle will be able to explain everything to him when he's older

'But they won't!' Gwendolyn exclaims angrily. ''My sister hated me being a witch, she won't tell my children that they're the same!'

I've written them a letter.'

'A letter?' repeated Professor McGonagall faintly, sitting back down against the wall. 'Really, Dumbledore, you think you can explain this in a letter? These people will never understand him! They'll both be famous- a legend- I wouldn't be surprised if today was known as Potter Twins Day in future- there will be books written about Chloe and Harry- every child in our world will know his name!'

'I bet Potter's having a right ego boost at the minute,' grovelled Severus.

'Exactly,' said Dumbledore, looking very seriously over the top of his half-moon glasses. 'It would be enough to turn any boy's head. Famous before either of them can walk or talk! Famous for something they both won't even remember! Can't you see how much better off he'll be, growing up away from all that until he's ready to take it?'

'There's a difference between growing up away from it and being placed in an abusive home!' Gwendolyn says.

Professor McGonagall opened her mouth, changed her mind, swallowed and then said, 'Yes- yes, you're right, of course. But how are the children getting here, Dumbledore?' She eyed his cloak suddenly as though she thought he might be hiding the twins underneath it.

'Hagrid's bringing them both.'

'You think it wise- wise- to trust Hagrid with something as important as this?'

'I would trust Hagrid with my life,' said Dumbledore.

'I wouldn't trust that big oaf with anything,' Lucius remarks.

'I'm not saying that his heart isn't in the right place,' said Professor McGonagall grudgingly. 'but you can't pretend he's not careless. He does tend to- what was that?'

A low rumbling sound had broken the silence around them. It grew steadily louder as they looked up and down the street for some sign of a headlight; it swelled to a roar as they both looked up at the sky- and a huge motorbike fell out of the air and landed on the road in front of them.

If the motorbike was huge, it was nothing to the man sitting astride it. He was almost twice as tall as a normal man and at least five times as wide.

'That's Hagrid, for sure!' Kimberly said.

He looked simply too big to be allowed, and so wild- long tangles of bushy black hair and beard hid most of his face, he had hands the size of dustbin lids and his feet in their leather boots were like baby dolphins. In his vast, muscular arms, he was holding two bundles of blankets.

'It's the twins!' Molly exclaimed to Gwendolyn.

'Hagrid,' said Dumbledore, sounding relieved. 'At last. And where did you get that motorbike?'

'Borrowed it, Professor Dumbledore, sir,' said the giant, climbing carefully off the motorbike as he spoke. 'Young Sirius Black lent it me.

'I have a motorbike!' Sirius exclaimed, an excited look on his face. 'That's so cool!'

I've got them both, sir.'

'No problems, were there?'

'No sir= house was almost destroyed but I got them both out alright before the Muggles started swarmin' around. They both fell asleep as we was flyin' over Bristol.'

Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall bent forward over the two bundles of blankets. Inside each, just visible, was a baby, one girl and one boy, fast asleep. The girl's hair was barely visible in the dark light as it was so light, and the boy's was the exact opposite, jet black.

'Aww you had a mini you and a mini James, Gwen!' Alice said, cooing slightly.

'I bet they're proper cute, our kids,' James said, smiling down at Gwendolyn who just blushed in response.

Under the tufts of platinum blonde and jet-black hair over their forehead they could see identical curiously shaped cuts, like bolts of lightning.

'Is that where-?' whispered Professor McGonagall.

'Yes,' said Dumbledore. 'They'll have those scars for ever.'

'Even if I could, I wouldn't. Scars can come in useful. I have one myself above my left knee which is a perfect map of the London Underground.

'Really?' Gwendolyn asked, amusement written over her face at the idea. Dumbledore nodded.

'Can we see?' Andromeda asks.

'Maybe another time.'

Well- give him here, Hagrid- we'd better get this over with.'

Dumbledore took Chloe and Harry in his arms and turned towards the Dursley's house.

'Could I- could I say goodbye to them, sir?' asked Hagrid. He bent his great, shaggy head over Harry first and gave him what must have been a very scratchy, whiskery kiss, then doing the exact same to Chloe. Then, suddenly, Hagrid let out a howl like a wounded dog.

'Shhh!' hissed Professor McGonagall. 'You'll wake the Muggles!'

'I mean I doubt it,' Arabella says. 'especially if the motorbike didn't in the first place.'

'S-s-sorry,' sobbed Hagrid, taking out a large spotted handkerchief and burying his face in it. 'But I c-c-can't stand it- Gwen and James dead- an' poor little Chloe and poor little Harry off ter live with Muggles-'

'Yes, yes, it's all very sad, but get a grip on yourself, Hagrid, or we'll be found,' Professor McGonagall whispered, patting Hagrid gingerly on the arm as Dumbledore stepped over the low garden wall and walked to the front door. He laid Chloe and Harry gently on the doorstep

'WHAT!' James and Gwendolyn erupted again, turning to Dumbledore angrily.

'You're leaving them on the doorstep?' Kimberly asked him, looking both parts angry and confused.

'What if there was foxes or something?' James asks.

'Yeah, and the weatherman said earlier that it was going to rain!' Remus added. 'You're leaving them in the cold and the wet?'

,took two letters out of his cloak, tucked them inside either Chloe's or Harry's blankets and then came back to the other two. For a full minute, the three of them stood and looked at the two little bundles; Hagrid's shoulders shook, Professor McGonagall blinked furiously and the twinkling light that usually shone from Dumbledore's eyes seemed to have gone out.

'Well,' said Dumbledore finally, 'that's that. We've no business staying here. We may as well go and join the celebrations.'

'What you should be doing instead,' says Gwendolyn, angrily, 'is thinking about the fact that you left two BABIES on a doorstep!'

'Yeah,' said Hagrid in a very muffled voice. 'I'd best get this bike away. G'night, Professor McGonagall- Professor Dumbledore, sir.' Wiping his streaming eyes on his jacket sleeve, Hagrid swung himself on to the motorbike and kicked the engine into life; with a roar it rose into the air and off into the night.

'I shall see you soon, I expect, Professor McGonagall,' said Dumbledore, nodding to her. Professor McGonagall blew her nose in reply.

Dumbledore turned and walked back down the street. On the corner he stopped and took out the silver Put-Outer. He clicked it once and twelve balls of light sped back to their street lamps so that Privet Drive glowed suddenly orange and he could make out a tabby cat slinking around the corner at the other end of the street. He could just see the two bundles of blankets on the step of number four.

'Good luck, Chloe and Harry,' he murmured. He turned on his heel and with a swish of his cloak he was gone.

'And leaving the two babies on the step,' Arabella said, rolling her eyes at the idea.

A breeze ruffled the neat hedges of Privet Drive, which lay silent and tidy under the inky sky, the very last place you would expect astonishing things to happen. Chloe and Harry Potter rolled over inside of their blankets without either of them waking up. Each baby had one small hand closed on the letters beside them and they both slept on, not knowing they were special, not knowing they were famous, not knowing that they would both be woken in a few hours' time by Mrs Dursley's scream as she opened the front door to put out the milk bottles, not that they would both spend the next few weeks being prodded and pinched by their cousin Dudley...

'He better not do anything to either of them!' James muttered.

...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 Chloe and Harry Potter- the twins who lived!'

#chloeandharrypotterandthephilosophersstone #marauders fanfiction

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