Voldemort had murdered countless foes before this child. Several times had he seen his wand do his evil curse to utterly wipe the life force clean of his opponents. But nothing could prepare him for what he was about to experience. As the light traveled towards the screaming child, a barrier rose up before him. It was not able to be seen, nor did it seem to have been triggered by anyone else, but it was clear to Voldemort as his spell was reflected off of the baby. Instead of killing his target, the spell rebounded and struck…himself.
“AAAHHHHHHH!!!!!!” a terrible scream like no other shattered the silence of Godric’s Hollow. Voldemort was being destroyed as the curse consumed and engulfed his body in green light. Nothing could have been more unexpected for this master of the dark arts. And then, as abruptly as it began, the pain stopped. A ghost without form looked around the room and saw a baby screaming in his cradle, with a lightning shaped cut still bleeding on his forehead.
‘What is this magic?! What’s happened?!’ The ghost had no time to further question this turn of events, however, as a loud noise caught its attention. The house was beginning to crumble and lose support. Panicking, it sought to find an exit, but a crash from behind it caused the ghost to turn around, a strangely different feeling than it was accustomed to experiencing. The door was now blocked by fallen debris. ‘No! NO!!!’ As the house fell around him, the baby screamed continuously, but the wreckage of the house seemed to avoid coming near the cradle, seemingly deflected by the unseen barrier. As the last of the house fell, the ghost simply passed through the building and floated out through the night, unseen by the muggles peering through their windows.
A low rumbling sound began to pierce the quiet that was now present in the absence of the house falling apart. A motorcycle, clearly one out of the ordinary, fell from the sky and landed in front of the wreckage. A tall, handsome man with black hair got up from the seat and took in the sight before him.
“No! NO! It can’t be! It just can’t! Peter, why!” He stood before the house and eventually broke down, sobbing on the street. He didn’t have long to continue his sorrow, however, as muggles began to swarm up towards the remains of the house. A more startling sight began to materialize, however, as a great figure began to rise from the wreckage. At least seven feet tall with a bushy beard and moleskin overcoat was emerging, cradling in his arms the same baby that had been crying earlier. The motorcycle rider, now white and shaking, approached the giant.
“Hagrid…what…what are you doing here?”
“Professor Dumbledore’s orders. I’m here ter take young Harry here to his aunt and uncle.”
“Hagrid, I…I…I can’t believe this.”
“I know, Sirius. Mus’ be hard for yeh, yer friends gone.”
“Yes, I…” the man was unable to control himself and began sobbing once more.
“It’s all righ’, Sirius,” the man called Hagrid consoled as he picked the man called Sirius up into a giant hug.
“Hagrid, could…could I take Harry? He…he is my godson after all.”
“Sorry, Sirius, no can do. Dumbledore himself tol’ me bring him ter his aunt an’ uncle, an’ that’s what I’m here ter do.”
“Please, Hagrid, Harry will be the closest one to me now.” Hagrid raised a suspicious eyebrow at this statement.
“What abou’ Peter? Ain’t you good friends with him?” To Hagrid’s surprise, Sirius’ face suddenly turned to a grim scowl at these words.
“Please, Hagrid, for me. Let me take Harry.”
“I’m sorry, Sirius, got ter take him where Dumbledore said.” These words were met with a long sigh.
“All right, Hagrid. Here, take my bike,” Sirius replied as he gestured toward the vehicle he flew in on.
“What? Yeh sure? Yeh really like that thin’.”
“This is important. Please, take it. Make sure that Harry is safe.”
“Well, all righ’. Guh-bye Sirius.” Hagrid stepped onto the motorcycle and, making sure Harry was secure, drove off out of sight of the muggles and then took off towards the skies. Sirius also walked out of sight of the crowd still peering at the destroyed residence. A large black dog was suddenly in his place and sprinted off into the night.
Hours later, everyone everywhere was joyously repeating the words, “To Harry Potter “ the boy who lived!”