The Girl Who Lived

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" Ah! Professor McGonagall, You have arrived!" called an ancient man holding a small bundle  in the dead of night, outside of No. 4 Privet Drive. "I see you are looking well."

Suddenly, a slate grey tabby cat appeared from out of a bush. It had black rings around its eyes, almost reminiscent of spectacles. Strangely enough, the beautiful feline transformed into an older woman wearing forest green robes. Though by looks, she was indeed old, but still as elegant as ever.

" Indeed, Professor Dumbledore," She said. " With all due respect, must we drop her off here? I have been keeping tabs on this couple for months! They are by far some of the worst muggles imaginable." Professor McGonagall's face was clad with worry. Even though she respected Dumbledore deeply, she was against the fact of simply dropping the baby off here of all places. 

Dumbledore sighed in understanding. " I know Minerva, but its the only way she will be safe. I know you understand that the entire fate of the Wizarding World depends on her."

"Yes," she replied. " But couldn't you protect her? You are the most powerful wizard of the century. Surely, there must be something you can do." 

" I understand you are worried for the girl, Minerva, but the protection spell put on her by her mother can only be in effect if she is with a blood relative. She will be in better protection here than with me." Dumbledore said sadly. He took the bundle out of his hands and placed her on the doorstep along with a note. " Good luck, Harriet Potter." He whispered. Then, Professor McGonagall and Professor Dumbledore disappeared into the night.

Just as it so happens, a certain redheaded reaper was on her way to No. 4 Privet Drive. She was coming this way, in fact, to reap little Harriet Potter's soul. 

She slowly walked along the moonlit road muttering to herself, her chainsaw dragging closely behind her. 

"Let's see," she said in annoyance. " Who is on my To-Die list tonight? Ugh, Stupid Will! He knows a lady needs her beauty sleep. Gods, he can be such a slavedriver." She flipped through her To-Die list until she found the page she needed. " Hmm. Name: Harriet Potter, Cause of Death: hypothermia, Age: ONE YEAR?!" The redhead was on the verge of tears. For you see, she always wanted to bear children, but couldn't. As much as she despised it, she was born male, and therefore could not conceive. She could never bring herself to kill a child, but was often forced to. She remembered every single young soul she had to reap. By this time, she was silently crying. Bringing herself back to reality, she raced off to No. 4 Privet Drive. Perhaps she might be able to save the baby before it died. She ran as fast as she could in her red heels, tears still streaming down her face. 'Please be alive,' she thought.

Luckily, she got there in time. She picked up the small bundle and held onto it tightly. She rocked back and forth, still crying. Perhaps she was too late? 

Suddenly, a small cries were coming from the baby bundle between her arms. The redheaded reaper looked down at the baby , a wide smile growing on her face. ' Oh, thank the stars!' she thought. She slowly rocked the baby and placed a small kiss on its forehead.

" Shh. It's okay," she cooed. "Mummy's here. Mummy's  here. don't cry." She smiled down lovingly at little Harriet, placing another kiss on her forehead. Harriet looked up at the reaper and giggled.

The redhead slowly stood up, grabbed her chainsaw, and left Privet Drive, never to be seen there again.

Harriet Charlotte Sutcliff and the Philosopher's StoneOnde as histórias ganham vida. Descobre agora