Scooping the boy out of the basket, he held him up carefully as he grinned up at him. "Well, now I know why you've been left here! A start like that, you belong with your clan, blood or no blood!"
And now his followers want you dead?" His grin returned as he chuckled, sitting down next to the basket even as the young lad's eyes opened, staring up at him in surprise.but with no fear. "Even if he weren't evil, no one who Runs From Death belongs in the Darkness. "At your age, that's impressive!" He frowned as he caught sight of the name of the evil. "So you purged the evil from the Darkness, did you lad?" he asked in pleased surprise. Pulling out the parchment, he perused it.Īs he read, his bulging eyes widened, and his mouth slowly split into an almost terrifying grin. Curious, he slipped a long nail under the seal and easily opened the envelope without breaking it. "It is! This boy's been touched by death.and conquered it! So young, too? How could this be?" His eyes spun to spot the letter. "Could it be?" He placed the tip of his finger against his tongue. He took a sniff of his finger, and his eyes widened. "What's this?" Reaching forward, he pressed his finger to the scar, pulling it back as he felt the energy there. His eyes twisted and locked onto the lightning bolt scar just under his hair.
"Who'd leave a baby all alone on this night of all nights? That's just asking for someone - or something - to snatch him up for something unsavory." He leaned in closer, then paused and took a sniff. "What's this?" he asked, his voice a little gravelly as he staggered up to the doorstep. As he walked, though, his eyes locked on the basket. A great evil had been cast from the Darkness, and all his kind were eagerly enjoying the cleansing of their home. He swayed back and forth with his steps, his bulging eyes spinning with or without the turning of his head as he took in everything in his surroundings, enjoying a night unlike any other. Not long after the Headmaster had vanished, a squat bald man in a long coat toddled along the street, his limbs a bit stiff with the cold of the night. In any number of timelines, Dumbledore's plan would carry out - as far as it went - and the name of Harry Potter would again become a Hero to the Wizarding World. Either way, the young Potter would grow up unaware of magic, only to be enraptured when he discovered it and caught up in the conflicts and miracles thereof. Young Harry Potter would grow up with the Dursleys, the pain of that life variable depending on how dark that particular branch of the timeline grew, and what events had slipped in before or after depending. This sequence of events was most familiar to the multiverse, as it had played out any number of times. With that last bit of uncertainty, the Headmaster of Hogwarts turned his back and Apparated away, leaving no trace that anything magical had happened on that street on that night, leaving only the child - protected by charms to ensure his well being - waited to be discovered by his family, when the charms that would hide him from his enemies would activate, renewed once a year when he rejoined his family. He'd long ago accepted the concept of 'necessary evil', and knew just how rough it would be for the young Potter, growing up with his magic hating relatives.but it was necessary. Everything he'd looked into, researched, planned, and prepared for said this was the right call, that this is what would lead to the boy growing into the type of young man the Wizarding World desperately needed in order to drive back the Dark Lord when he inevitably returned.
The hope of the Wizarding World, the Slayer of Darkness, the Boy Who Lived sat in a basket there, a letter explaining why he was there to be tended by his relatives. Professor Dumbledore cast one last look over his shoulder at the doorstep of 4 Privet Drive.
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