Harry Potter's Coolest Aunt

My guardian angel

Don't be a silent reader. Send your comment

Third pov

It is nighttime in Surrey, we see an owl on the street sign "PRIVET DRIVE", the street with very identical looking brown bricked houses. An elderly man with crimson robes and a long silvery white beard walks out of a forest near the street, past a tabby cat standing next to what looks like a shed. He takes out his deluminator and activates it. He zaps all the light out of the lampposts. He puts away the device and a cat meows. He looked down at the cat and smiled

"Fancy seeing you here, Professor McGonagall."

He turned to smile at the tabby, but instead of the cat, he was smiling at a rather severe-looking woman who was wearing square glasses, exactly the shape of the markings the cat had around its eyes. She, too, was wearing a cloak, an emerald one. Her black hair was drawn into a tight bun, which was ruffled.

"How did you know it was me?" she asked.

"My dear Professor, I've never seen a cat sit so stiffly," he responded

"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 passed a dozen feasts and parties on my way here."

Professor McGonagall sniffed angrily. "Oh yes, everyone's celebrating, all right," she said, annoyed. "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. 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'll bet that was Dedalus Diggle. He never had much sense."

"You can't blame them," Dumbledore said 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 downright careless, out on the streets in broad daylight, not even dressed in Muggle clothes, swapping rumours."

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's gone, Dumbledore?"

"It certainly seems so," said Dumbledore. "We have much to be
thankful for. Would you care for a lemon drop?"

"A what?"

"A lemon drop. They're a kind of Muggle sweet I'm rather
fond of." he said, offering a candy.

"No, thank you," said Professor McGonagall coldly "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." Professor McGonagall flinched, but Dumbledore, who was unsticking two lemon drops, 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."

"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."