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We Deserve Him More

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*October 31st, 1981
Sometime around midnight
Number four, Privet Drive*

...

The man with the silvery beard and the cigarette lighter (the latter of which was not what it appeared to be) stood outside a house with a woman who looked just as odd as he. Silence was impossible; there were several owls hooting and flying in the distance, mixing with the rustling trees due to the wind's insistence. Yet, there was a quiet around the pair that none would notice unless in mourning. The lights were off in the houses around them; no one seemed to be awake but them.

The silence was immediately broken when the woman spoke. "She probably was the brightest witch of her age, you realize. My own student..." She broke off and blew into the handkerchief she held.

"I know," the other replied. "James was extraordinary as well. Unfortunately not in the academic area."

"However, he was an unbelievable Quidditch player."

"Yes, indeed."

"But Lily, she just had a certain kind of magic that no one else possessed."

"I agree. And," the man continued, pointing to the sky, "that should be Hagrid with young Harry right now."

A roar followed the man's observation, and a large figure suddenly blocked the moon. The figure drew closer and closer to the street containing the pair, and eventually stopped in front of them. The half giant turned the motorbike's engine off and headed over to the man.

"Professor Dumbledore sir. Professor McGonagall," the large man greeted respectfully, nodding his head to both.

"Hagrid," Dumbledore said, "how is Harry?"

"Asleep," Hagrid replied. "After I got big ol' Elvendork, I flew it to Godric's Hollow and got him. Tiny thing fell asleep on the way."

"Elvendork?" McGonagall asked.

"The bike," Hagrid said, gesturing to it. "James and Sirius Black named it when they built it. Said it was unisex." A few tears slipped down his cheeks at this statement.

"May I see Harry?" Dumbledore asked, holding his arms out. "I have a letter for the muggles who will raise him."

"Er, the thing is," Hagrid began, folding his arms and rocking back on the balls of his feet. "He's not 'ere. He's safe though, suh dun worry."

Dumbledore and McGonagall stared at Hagrid in disbelief.

"What-- where is he?"

"At Sirius and Remus's. They think it was Peter Pettigrew who betrayed them, since he had the key or somethin'. Sirius was so mad he was gonna go lookin' for Pettigrew himself, buh Remus calmed him down. They got the Aurors lookin' for him instead. Oh!" Hagrid added, reaching into his pocket and handing Dumbledore a letter, "They said to give yuh this."

Hagrid walked back to the bike and climbed on. "Goodbye, professors. Let's hope Harry has a peaceful life."

"Hagrid," Dumbledore began calmly. "Please let Sirius and Remus know that Harry must be returned here immediately."

Hagrid, through all his grief, snorted. "I doubt they will, professor. They weren't always the type to follow orders."

The motorbike's engine switched on, and Hagrid began to fly once again. As he disappeared into the night, McGonagall turned to Dumbledore and exclaimed, "Professor! How could you let them get away with this?"

"It seems, Minerva," the other began gazing at the open letter in his hand, "that Sirius Black and Remus Lupin have convinced me that they will be a better family for Harry than the Dursley's ever would. You said it yourself: the latter are awful and spoiled, and if Harry is already-- conveniently, I might add-- at a nice family's home, then so be it."

"How do you know he'll be raised correctly?"

"Well, we can't do anything about it until he's eleven, but, here." Dumbledore handed the letter to the witch, who read it, shocked that the men would write in such a way to their former professors.

"We should do what they suggest and apparate back to Hogwarts, I think. We can mourn more properly there."

McGonagall nodded stiffly, blew her nose one more time, and vanished with a crack in the midnight air. Dumbledore was about to turn as well however, he took one last look at the house, and waved his hand goodbye.

"Good riddance."

Then, he too turned on his heal and disappeared in such a way no muggle would ever dream of.

A few seconds afterwards, the moon saw a thin, pursed woman appear at the window, look down at the street, shrug and say something to her husband named Vernon (most likely that she heard a noise but nothing was there), and went back to bed.

...

Dear Professor Dumbledore,

With all due respect, Remus and I think that we should be the ones to raise Harry, because leaving him on the doorstep of fucking muggles would be insane. Also, Remus is sorry that I used the word fucking. We promise we won't use it around Harry until-- I mean ever. Remus also wants me to apologise for giving you the inconvenience of having to travel to the muggle's home to wait for Hagrid, but I'm sure you can just disapparate home in a jiffy. We promise we will take great care of Harry and you can see him in eleven years.

Much appreciation for your understanding,

Sirius Black and Remus Lupin

Our grief will never fade.