The Grandson of Grindelwald (On Hold)

M1, Chapter 3

12 Years Ago - Privet Drive

(It's Dark at this hour, except for the street lamps that dot the street, spilling deep pools of light upon the ground. On the far corner, a man materializes out of the darkness. He is tall and thin, with a silver beard long enough to tuck into his belt. He wears a purple cloak and is roughly one hundred and fifty years old.

He is Albus Dumblefore. Dumbledore removes a small silver object from his cloak. The put-outer. He extends his hand and- Click. The nearest street lamp goes out with a soft pop. He continues to click the Put-Outer until all the lamps go dark. He turns, spies a cat, sitting on the wall of Number Four. He smiles knowingly)

Dumbledore: I should have known you'd be here, Professor McGonagall.

(The cat leaps forward, transfigures itself into a rather severe-looking woman in an emerald cloak)

McGonagall: Are the rumors true, Albus?

Dumbledore: I'm afraid so. The good. And the bad.

McGonagall: And the boy?

Dumbledore: Hagrid's bringing him.

McGonagall: You think it... wise... to trust Hagrid with something as important as this?

Dumbledore: I would trust Hagrid with my life, Professor.

(A low rumble disturbs the skies. Dumbledore and McGonagall look up and suddenly a huge motorcycle plummets through the clouds, hits the ground with a thunderous roar. As the smoke clears, a figure climbs off. He is hagrid and is, quite obviously, a giant. In his vast, muscular arms, he holds a bundle of blankets)

Hagrid: Ev'ning, professor Dumbledore, sir. Professor McGonagall.

Dumbledore: No problems, I take it, Hagrid?

Hagrid: No sir. Little tyke fell ter sleep as we was flyin' o'er Bristol.

(Hagrid steps forward and Dumbledore takes the bundle, turns toward the doorstep)

McGonagall: Albus, do you really think it best to leave him here, with these people? I've been watching them all day. They're the worst sort of Muggles imaginable. They're...

Dumbledore: The only family he has.

McGonagall: But this boy will be famous. There won't be a child in our world who doesn't know his name...

Dumbledore: Exactly. It would be enough to turn any boy's head. Famous before he can walk and talk. Famous for something he won't even remember. No. He'll be much better off growing up away from all that. Until he's ready.

(Dumbledore lays the bundle on the mat. Hagrid sniffles)

Dumbledore: There, there, Hagrid. It's not eally goodbye, after all.

(Hagrid hods. Dumbledore tucks a parchment envelope into the blankets and steps back, his face suddenly dark. Serious)

Dumbledore: Good luck, Harry Potter.

(On the baby's forehead, there is a still fresh cut in the shape of a bolt of lightning)

Present Time - Orphanage

(Y/n wakes up early in the morning, exited to go and get his school supplies. He gets dressed up in casual clothes and picks up some paper work of his table. He gets down stairs and sees mary in the kitchen making breakfast. She turns and sees Y/n)

Mary: Oh. You sure are up early.

Y/n: Yeah. I need to go out for some shopping for school.

Mary: I still can't believe you have to go and study far away from here and only stay for the summers every year.