Secret's Change: The Stone

- CHAPTER ONE-

The Boy who Survived

Mr and Mrs Dursley, of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much. They didn't hold with strange or mysterious doings and they were the last people you'd expect to be involved in such nonsense.

Mr Dursley was director for a firm called Grunnings, which made drills. He was a big, beefy man with hardly any neck, although he did have a very large moustache. Mrs Dursley was thin and blonde and had enough neck to make up for Mr Dursley's lack thereof and it was very useful as she spent so much of her time craning over garden fences, spying on neighbors. The Dursleys had a five-year-old son called Dudley and in their opinion there was no finer boy anywhere.

The Dursleys had everything they wanted, but they also had a secret, and their greatest fear was that somebody would discover it.

The past few months had been very eventful. About a year ago, the world discovered a secret, not the Dursleys' secret, but a secret none the less. There had been a secret society of people, living all over the world. They lived like any other human beings. They had friends, jobs, schools, banks and more. The worst thing about them though, the thing that made people like the Dursleys despise them, was that they could do magic. These were not your ordinary magic tricks. There wasn't any smoke or mirrors involved. This magic was a way of life.

When the world learned this secret, two opinions formed. Most people hated these magical folk, but there was a minority who chose to embrace them. These people, in Mr Dursley's opinion were fools.

The Dursleys didn't think they could bear it if anyone found out their secret. This fear had grown larger between Mr and Mrs Dursley since the world had learned about magic. It was now riskier than ever that somebody would find out about the Potters. Mrs Potter was Mrs Dursley's sister, but they hadn't met in several years; in fact, Mrs Dursley pretended she didn't have a sister, because her sister and her good-for-nothing husband were as abnormal and unDursleyish as it was possible to be. They were not perfectly normal, they were the first people to look at when strange and mysterious happenings occurred, and the Dursleys shuddered to think of what the neighbors would say if they arrived in the street. The Dursleys knew that the Potters had a son too. This boy was born around the same time as Dudley and was another reason to keep the Potters away; they didn't want Dudley to be anywhere near a child like that.

When Mr and Mrs Dursley woke up on the bright and sunny Monday our story starts, there was nothing about the clear sky and the birds singing to suggest that even stranger and more mysterious things would soon be happening all over the country. Mr Dursley hummed as he picked out his most boring tie for work and Mrs Dursley gossiped happily as she wrestled a screaming Dudley into a purple jumper.

Things were finally getting back to normal. This magic nonsense had been dying down and the Dursleys were far more happy than they had been in a long time.

They didn't notice the large tawny owl flutter past the window.

At half-past eight, Mr Dursley picked up his briefcase, pecked Mrs Dursley on the cheek and tried to kiss Dudley goodbye but missed, because Dudley was now having a tantrum and throwing his cereal at the walls. 'That's my boy,' chortled Mr Dursley as he left the house. He got into his car and backed out of number four's drive.

Mr Dursley was looking forward to his day. He didn't know how many drills he would sell, but he could feel that today was going to be a good day. But on the edge of town, drills were driven out of his mind as he sat in the usual morning traffic jam. He noticed that there were a lot of strangely dressed people about. People in cloaks. It was them again. The magic folk. Why couldn't they just leave them all alone? Why wouldn't they just go back to keeping their secrets and let Mr Dursley go back to keeping his? The traffic moved on and a few minutes later, Mr Dursley arrived in the Grunnings car park, his mind back on drills.

Mr Dursley always sat with his back to the window in his office on the ninth floor, but today he found it extremely hard to concentrate on drills, as shadows kept casting darkness into the otherwise brilliantly lit room. The shadows were cast by owls swooping past. They were everywhere. When Mr Dursley looked down from his office he could see people pointing and gazing open-mouthed as owl after owl sped over head. He didn't like owls. He had heard that they were associated with magic and that was a reason to stay away from them all together.

He wasn't in a very good mood, by lunch, despite having yelled at five different people, making several important telephone calls and yelling a bit more. 'Good day indeed,' he muttered as he crossed the street outside to go to the bakery. The streets were now filled with even more people in cloaks. It was an unusual amount.

He eyed a group of them angrily as he passed. He hated them. They made him uneasy. This lot were all whispering excitedly. Mr Dursley looked around to see that most of the other groups of cloaked figures were whispering wildly as well.

He was on his way back, clutching a large doughnut in a bag, when he caught a few words from the whispering group.

'The Potters, that's right, that's what I heard-'

'-yes, their son, Harry-'

Mr Dursley stopped dead. Fear flooded him. He looked back at the whisperers as if he wanted to say something to them, but thought better of it.

He dashed back across the road, hurried upstairs, snapped at his secretary not to disturb him, seized his telephone and had almost finished dialing his home phone number when he changed his mind. He put the receiver back down and stroked his moustache, thinking . . . no, he was being stupid. Potter wasn't such an unusual name. He was sure that there were lots of people called Potter who had a son called Harry. Come to think of it, he wasn't even sure his nephew was called Harry. He'd never even seen the boy. It might've been Harvey. Or Harold. There was no point in worrying Mrs Dursley. She had already been through such stressful times. Besides, she always got so upset at any mention of her sister. He didn't blame her- if he'd had a sister who was filth . . . but what about the people in the street?

He found it just as hard to concentrate on drills that afternoon as it had been that morning and when he left the building at five o' clock, he was still so worried that he walked straight into someone just outside the door.

'Sorry,' he grunted, as the tall young man stumbled backwards. It was a few seconds before Mr Dursley realized that he was wearing an Emerald cloak. He didn't seem upset at being knocked backwards. On the contrary, he smiled broadly.

'Don't be sorry!' he said, 'Be happy! You-Know-Who is finally gone. Even you muggles should be celebrating. This is a happy, happy day.'

The man hugged Mr Dursley around the middle and ran off.

Mr Dursley stood rooted to the spot. One of them, had just hugged him. The man had called him a Muggle. He practically ran to his car and sped home. He hoped he was imagining things, which he had never hoped before, as he didn't approve of imagination.

As he pulled in the driveway of number four, the first thing he saw was a tabby cat. It was sitting on his garden wall, staring at him. It looked him straight in the eye and then turned away with what looked like a skeptical look. It had markings around its eyes that almost looked like a pair of glasses.

'Shoo,' said Mr Dursley loudly.

The cat didn't move. It now gave him a stern look. This wasn't normal cat behavior, thought Mr Dursley. He decided he didn't like this cat and, after saying hello to Mrs Dursley and Dudley, went to fetch the garden hose.

Mr Dursley returned to the house with a triumphant look on his face. Making small animals (or people) miserable, made him happy. He was still determined not to mention anything to his wife.

Mrs Dursley had had an almost normal day. She told him over dinner all about Mrs Next Door's problems with her daughter.

'We saw big birdies Daddy,' said Dudley beaming at his father over a pile of quickly diminishing food (except, of course the broccoli).

Mrs Dursley explained how they had seen a few owls that day, and odd she had thought it was. Mr Dursley remained quiet. After Dudley had been put to bed, he went to the living-room in time to catch the last report on the evening news:

'And finally, people everywhere today were surprised to see swarms of owls all over the country. Possibly related, is the fact that wizards everywhere seem to be swarming our streets and they didn't seem surprised to see the owls at all.' Mr Dursley wished that they would leave those weirdos out of his newscast. 'And now over to Jim McGuffin with the weather. Should we pray for sun, Jim?'

'Well,' said the weatherman, 'There is rain ahead, but something else might come with it. Viewers as far apart as Kent, Yorkshire and Dundee have been phoning to tell me that they've had a downpour of shooting stars. Most of us believe that this is related to the owls and the wizards acting strangely. Now for your five-day forecast.'

Mr Dursley sat frozen in his armchair. Shooting stars all over Britain? Owls flying around in daylight? Wizards all over the place? And a whisper, a whisper about the Potters ...

Mrs Dursley came into the living-room carrying two cups of tea. He decided he'd have to say something to her. She'd find out sooner or later anyway. 'Er- Petunia, dear- you haven't heard from your sister lately, have you?'

Mrs Dursley looked shocked and angry. She looked around as if someone might be listening.

'No,' she said sharply. 'Why?'

'Funny stuff on the news,' Mr Dursley mumbled. 'Owls ...

Shooting stars ... and there were more than the usual amount of them in town today ...'

'So?' snapped Mrs Dursley.

'Well, It must have something to do with her lot. I mean, ever since everyone found out about them ...'

He stopped at the look on Mrs Dursley's face. He knew he'd have to continue on.

'I think I heard one of them mention your sister's name today,' he paused. 'Their son - what's his name?'

'Harry. Nasty common name, if you ask me. He's about Dudley's age,' she shuddered.

He had heard right, then. Something was going on and it involved the Potters. He decided he would say no more, but he knew he'd have to keep a watchful eye.

They went upstairs to bed and while Mrs Dursley was in the bathroom, he looked out the window. The cat was once again sitting on the garden wall. It looked at him through the window and Mr Dursley swore that he had never received a dirtier look. He closed the blind furiously.

This all had to have something to do with the Potters. He couldn't bear to think what might happen if it got out that they were related to a pair of ... and now it was closer to getting out than ever.

As Mr Dursley drifted into an uneasy sleep, the cat outside showed no signs of sleepiness. It was still sitting as still as a statue, its eyes fixed unblinkingly on the corner of Privet Drive. It didn't so much as quiver when a car door slammed in the next street, nor when two owls swooped overhead. In fact it was nearly midnight before the cat moved at all.

A large man appeared on the corner the cat had been watching. He appeared so suddenly and silently you'd have thought he'd just popped out of the ground. The cat's tail twitched and its eyes rolled with irritation.

Nothing like this man had ever been seen in Privet Drive. He was tall. In fact he was several feet taller than any average man. He had a wild tangle of hair and a beard that hid all of his face, except his small beady eyes. He was wearing a long moleskin overcoat that swept the ground. This man's name was Rubeus Hagrid.

Rubeus Hagrid didn't seem to realize that he had just arrived in a street where everything from his name to his immense size was unwelcome. He looked around for a desperate moment, then he spotted the cat. He began to walk quickly toward it.

'Professor McGonagall!' he called.

The cat gave him a stern look and began to change. A moment later the cat had turned into a woman. She was severe-looking and was wearing square glasses that looked exactly like the markings the cat had around its eyes. She was wearing an emerald cloak and her black hair was tied back in a tight bun.

'Hagrid,' she said sternly, 'Calm down! You'll wake the muggles. What're you doing here anyway?'

'Well, I ...' the giant of a man looked rather sheepish, 'I came lookin' fer you. There ain't none else.'

'What do you mean?'

'The schools empty. They're all out celebrating.'

'And Dumbledore hasn't returned?' The giant shook his head.

'How did you get here Hagrid? I didn't hear you come up.'

The giant looked at his huge feet guiltily.

'You know you're not supposed to use magic.'

'Well, I didn't ... I apparated. You don' need a wand fer that.'

'It's still magic,' said Professor McGonagall. 'And Apparation? When and how did you learn?'

'Dumbledore helped me.'

'What do you need me for?' the professor asked.

'I was wonderin' if you knew what happened to Dumbledore. No one else knows but there's some nasty rumors goin' about. Say they aren't true.'

'I can't be sure Hagrid, but it's likely that they are.'

The giant began to sob loudly.

'Hagrid, if you want me to tell you what is going on you'll have to stay quiet so that the muggles won't wake up.'

The giant nodded.

'As you know, Sirius Black has been missing for days. James Potter was the last to see him, last Tuesday. We know now that he has been with the dark lord. You-Know-Who came to the Potters house in Godric's Hollow, last night.'

Hagrid gasped.

'We are not yet sure, if Sirius was forced against his will to tell where James and Lily were hiding, or if he was working for You-Know-Who.'

'But, if he had bin he would 'ave told years ago.'

'My thoughts exactly. We may never know,' McGonagall continued. 'Sirius is still missing. He may be dead. It's very likely that he is.'

'What 'appened at the Potters?'

'The dark lord killed James and Lily.' She took a deep breath. Hagrid began to sob again, but stopped as well as he could.

'Lily an' James, dead?' Hagrid asked in disbelief. 'What about 'Arry?'

'He has survived ... somehow. He is with Severus Snape as we speak. He is bringing him to me.'

'Why just now?'

'Remus Lupin got to Harry first and he found it hard to give him up.'

'What abou' Dumbledore?'

'If the rumors are true, he with the help of the boy, defeated You-Know-Who. Also, if the rumors are true, he perished along with the dark lord.'

Hagrid found that he could control the urge to sob no longer. He let out loud wails of pain. Professor McGonagall tried to calm him.

'Why'd you bring 'im 'ere?' Hagrid managed to say.

'This is his aunt's house. She and her husband are horrible muggles. They're also his only living family. He will live here with them until he is ready for our world.'

'But Professor, you can't!'

'I know how bad they are. A few hours ago I looked like a drowned rat because of them, but this is the way it has to be. Dumbledore gave me strict orders before he left for the Potters last night.'

'What're you doing here?' asked a cold voice. The two figures turned to see a tall, thin man. He had sallow skin a hooked nose and long, greasy, black hair. He was very thin and he had directed his question to Hagrid.

'Professor Snape!' Hagrid jumped, 'I was lookin' fer Dumbledore.' Snape looked away.

A little boy of about five years stood beside Severus Snape, clasping his hand tightly. Professor McGonagall bent down to speak to the little boy.

'Hello Harry.'

'Hi,' he said shyly.

'Are you all right?' The boy shook his head. 'You've had a big day haven't you?' Harry nodded again. 'I bet you're tired.' She stood again and faced the man.

'How have you been, Severus?'

'Fine,' he said darkly.

'We'll find him, don't you worry.' She gave him the same sympathetic look she gave Hagrid, when they had spoken about Dumbledore.

'I had a hard time convincing Lupin to let Harry come with me,' Snape changed the subject.

'That isn't a big surprise.' McGonagall said, 'You and James' group never did get along, but who else could I send.' At this statement Hagrid cleared his throat. There was a moment of silence, in which McGonagall looked away.

'Were there any other problems?' McGonagall asked Snape.

'No. He fell asleep on the way here.' Snape looked at Harry darkly. He had the same dark, messy hair as his father.

'Severus, can't you let it go?' asked McGonagall sternly.

'I don't want to talk about it,' snapped Snape quietly.

'Well we should go soon,' said McGonagall. 'I don't think these people would be too happy to find us on their doorstep.'

'Then why leave 'im here?' Hagrid asked.

'We've been over this Hagrid.' The giant of a man nodded sadly. McGonagall bent down to Harry, who had been silent since he had arrived.

'Harry, we are going to leave soon. Are you going to be all right?' Harry nodded.

'Is Mummy and Daddy gonna come get me?' McGonagall looked up her eyes glistening with unshed tears. Hagrid started to sob and even Snape had a faint twinkle in the corner of his eye.

'Yes, yes it's all very sad, but a grip on yourself, Hagrid or we'll be found.' McGonagall whispered softly. 'Harry you are going to live here with your Aunt and Uncle. I want you to be a good boy and to try to forget about what happened last night.'

'It was scary,' said Harry. There was a brave quality to his voice. He knew something went on, but knew that being scared would not help.

'I know.' The first rays of sunlight were now appearing.

'I want you to go up to that door,' McGonagall pointed. 'I want you to knock on that door. Tell the people who live there who you are and give them this.' She handed the little boy an envelope, in which there was a letter explaining all the events of the previous night to the Dursleys.

'Can you do that for me?' Harry nodded. 'Good. Remember your Mummy and Daddy love you.' Harry began walking up to the door of number four Privet Drive.

'I will see you both soon,' said McGonagall to the others. 'I suggest you join the celebrations while you can. There will be lots of work to do soon. Hagrid, remember, no magic.' The old witch disappeared.

'I'm goin' to keep searching,' said Hagrid. Snape nodded to him and disappeared just as McGonagall had. Hagrid proceeded to walk away in the early morning light.

A breeze ruffled the hedges of Privet Drive, which lay silent and tidy under the slowly lightening sky, the very last place you would expect astonishing things to happen. Harry Potter walked up the front walkway. One small hand was closed on the letter he carried, not knowing he was special, not knowing he was famous, not knowing that he would soon meet his new family, one that would never treat him properly ... He couldn't know at this very moment, people meeting all over the country were holding up their glasses and shouting out loud: 'To Harry Potter - the boy who survived!'