While the Dursleys of Privet Drive drift off to a deep sleep, a tall, thin, and very old man appears on the corner a still cat had been watching. This cat had unusual markingson around it's eyes. It's stillness was cut off when it's tail twitched and it's eyes narrowed. The old man, with extraordinarily long silvery hair, rummaged through his pockets. He seemed to know he was being watched, his head suddenly jerked up. The sight of the cat on the Dursley's doorstep seemed to amuse him. He chuckled and muttered, "I should have known."
The man seemed to have found what he was looking for. He pulled what seemed to be a silver cigarette lighter out of his pocket. He held it up in the air, flicked it open, and clicked it. A light went out nearby. After many clicks from the Put-Outer, the street was abandoned of light but two cat eyes from the cat on the Dursley house doorstep, watching Albus Dumbledore. He slipped the devise back into his pocket and walked up the street to where the cat sat. He sat down beside it, but giving no sign he saw it. But after a while, he spoke to it.
"Fancy seeing you here, Professor McGongall."
Dumbledore turned to smile at the tabby, but now he smiled at a woman with glasses the exact shape of the markings around the cat's eyes. Her black hair drawn up in a tight bun. "How did you know it was me?"
"My dear Professor, I've never seen a cat sit so stiffly."
"You'd be stiff if you'd been sitting on a brick wall all day," Professor McGonagall replied.
"All day? When you could have been celebrating? I must have past at least a dozen feasts and parties on my way here."
Professor McGonagall sniffed angrily. She gave a suggestion that they'd be more careful. "Shooting stars down in Kent— I'll bet that was Dedalus Diggle. He never had much sense."
"You can't blame them. We've had precious little to celebrate for eleven years."
"I know that," McGonagall replied. "But that's nogood reason to loose our heads. People are downright careless, out on the streets in broad daylight, not even dressed in Muggle clothes, swapping rumors."
This was when she threw a sharp glance at Dumbledore. "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."
It went on like this until the subject came to rumors.
"What they're saying is that last night Voldemort turned up in Godric's Hollow. He went to find the Potters. The rumor is that Lily and James Potter are — are — that they're — dead."
Albus bowed his head, with a gasp from McGonagall.
"Lily and James... l can't believe it... I didn't want to believe it... Oh Albus..."
Dumbledore patted her on the shoulder. "I know... I know..."
"That's not all. They're saying he tried to kill their children, Hailey and Harry. But — he couldn't. No one knows why, or how, but they're saying he couldn't kill the twins, Voldemort's power broke — and that's why he's gone."
A glum nod came from Dumbledore.
"It's — it's true? After all he's done... all the people he's killed... he couldn't kill two little children? It's just astounding... of all the things to stop him... but how in the name of heaven did Hailey and Harry survive?"
"We can only guess. We may never know."
Professor McGonagall dabbed at her eyes with a lace handkerchief and Albus Dumbledore sniffed. He looked at a strange planet watch. "Hagrid's late. I suppose it was he who told you I'd be here, by the way?"
"Yes." Replied Professor McGonagall. "And I don't suppose you're going to tell me why you're here of all places?"
"I've come to bring the Potters to their aunt and uncle. They're the only family he has left now."
"You don't mean — you can't mean the people who live here?" Cried Professor McGonagall, jumping to her feet. "Dumbledore — you can't. I've been watching them all day. You couldn't find two people who are less like us. And they've got this son — I saw the boy kicking his mother all the way up the street, screaming for sweets. The twins come and live here!"
"It's the best place for the twins, their aunt and uncle will be able to explain everything to them when they're older. I've written them a letter."
"A letter? Really, Dumbledore, you think you can explain all this in a letter? These people will never understand them! They'll be famous — a legend — I wouldn't be surprised if today was known as Potter day in the future — there will be books written about the twins — every child in our world will know their names!"
"Exactly, it would be enough to turn any child's head. Famous before they can walk and talk! Famous for something they won't even remember! Can't you see how better off they'll be, growing up away from all of that until their ready to take it?"
McGonagall opened her mouth, swallowed, and said, "Yes — yes you're right, of course. But how are the Potters getting here, Dumbledore?" Looking at his cloak.
"Hagrid's got them."
"You think it — wise — to trust Hagrid with something as important as this?"
"I would trust Hagrid with my life."
"I'm not saying his heart isn't in the right place, but you can't pretend he's not careless. He does tend to — what was that?"
A rumbling broke the silence around Professor McGonagall and Albus Dumbledore. A low rumbling noise. A motorcycle fell from the air to the road in front of them. A large man with a tangled beard who was twice as large as a normal man was on top, holding two bu:-)ndles of blankets.
"Hagrid, at last. And where did you get that motorcycle?"
"Borrowed it, Professor Dumbledore, sir." Said the giant figure, Hagrid, as it climbed off the motorcycle. "Young Sirius Black lent it to me. I've got them, sir."
"No problems, were there?"
"No, sir — house was almost destroyed, but I got him out alright before the Muggles started swarmin' around. Fell asleep as we was flyin' over Bristol."
When Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall leaned over the blankets, two babies were visible from inside. A baby boy with jet black hair and a lightning scar across his forehead. Next to him in the other bundle lay a baby girl with the same hair color — jet black — and a scar on her forehead as well, the very same shape of crackling lightning that pierced the night on that of a storm. Both were fast asleep.
"Is that where—?" Whispered Professor McGonagall, looking at the boy's scar.
"Yes," said Dumbledore, "they shall have those scars forever."
"Couldn't you do something about it, Dumbledore?"
"Even if I could, I wouldn't. Scars can come in handy. I have one myself above my left knee that is a perfect map of the London Underground. Well — give them here, Hagrid — we'd better get this over with."
Dumbledore took the twins and turned to the Dursley house.
"Could I — could say good-bye, sir?" asked Hagrid. He bent down to the twins and gave them what must have been a very scratchy, whiskery kiss. Hagrid suddenly let out a loud howl.
"Shhh! You'll wake the Muggles!" Hissed Professor McGonagall.
"S-s-sorry," sobbed Hagrid, burying his face in a spotted handkerchief, "But I c-c-can't stand it — Lily an' James dead — an' the poor little twins sent off ter live with Muggles —"
"Yes, yes, it's all very sad, but get a grip on yourself, Hagrid, or we'll be found," Professor McGonagall whispered, patting Hagrid gingerly on the arm as Dumbledore stepped up to the front door. Dumbledore put Harry and Hailey down and tucked a letter inside the blankets. The three of them stared at the bundles for a minute before —
"Well, that's that." Said Dumbledore finally. "We've no business staying here. We may as well go join the celebrations."
"Yeah," Hagrid's muffled voice sounded, "I'll be takin' Sirius his bike back. G'night Professor McGonagall — Professor Dumbledore, sir."
And so Hagrid and his borrowed bike zoomed off into the distance. This left Professor McGonagall and Albus Dumbledore.
"I shall see you soon, I expect, Professor McGonagall," said Dumbledore, with nothing but a blown nose in reply.
Dumbledore clicked the Put-Outer just in time to see a tabby cat prowling away. The bundle of blankets could just be seen.
"Good luck, you two," he murmured. And with that, Dumbledore was gone.
Little did Hailey and Harry know that in a moment's time, small, large, or must momentarily, they would be awoke to Mrs. Dursley's scream the next daylight. Little did they know Dudley Dursley shadowed their future horribly with taunts and death threats. Little did they know people all over the world were cherishing their names.

"To Hailey and Harry Potter — the children who lived!"