RETURN TO SENDER
Standard Disclaimer: Wish I owned it but since I don't ... on with the show.
Chapter Eight. All Soul's Day
Hagrid's first instinct was to panic.
He had, after all, just killed the Greatest Wizard since Merlin - as well as the Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts. Accidentally, of course - but who would believe him? He was only the groundskeeper of the school; he hadn't even finished his OWLS much less his NEWTS and, worst of all, he's of mixed breed.
And he was the one who delivered Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, to his muggle relatives. Sure, he did so under Dumbledore's orders - but who would believe him? It could just as easily be said that he'd followed orders from the Headmaster … and then killed both Dumbledore and Minerva, in order to deliver the boy to You-Know-Who's followers.
He's half-giant, after all.
He took a deep breath. Sure, he was all that - but he was also a member of the Order of the Phoenix. He'd fought and bled beside some of the best fighters for the Light - survived several ambushes by the Death Eaters and had done quite well … least, he was alive while so many others had been killed or wounded.
Dumbledore - 'great man, Dumbledore', he thought - had trusted him with various missions over the years … and he wouldn't fail the great man now.
Even if he'd been the cause of the great man's untimely demise.
First things first.
With a speed and grace that most people would never have expected of such a large man, he approached the two bodies on the road. One look at Dumbledore and he bit his lip, hard, to stop another howl from escaping his chest. The old man's head was at an unnatural angle, and Hagrid had more than enough experience with animals to know that his best and oldest friend had gone on to his next great adventure.
Professor McGonagall, on the other hand …
Touching her neck gently, he blinked when he felt a faint pulse. Quickly, he pulled out a rolled-up leather satchel from his pocket and unrolled it, his fingers gently touching the various vials within in a search for a specific one - Blood Replenishing potion, no … burn cream, no … Pepper-Up Potion - later; and … 'Ahh!' he thought.
Just the thing.
Uncorking the vial, he waved the open end under McGonagall's nose - and was rewarded with the Deputy Headmistress' eyes shooting open even as she slapped the offending hand away from her.
She blinked at the sight of Hagrid's face looming above her - opened her mouth to scream at him for shoving his unwashed socks under her nose - and gasped when she felt liquid fire being poured down her throat, involuntarily gulping it down at the same time.
She closed her eyes at the liquid heat spreading throughout her body and felt the steam escaping her ears … shaking her head, she realized that her headache was gone - and memories quickly flooded through her brain …
The Halloween feast … the panic and confusion when young Severus fainted into the pudding … Waking up this morning to Filius banging on her door … nearly hexing the diminutive professor only to listen in shock to the news that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was DEAD … running to the Headmaster's office in her hastily-thrown on robes, only to learn from the guardian gargoyle that he wasn't in …
"Hadrid? What -"
She gaped at the tear-stricken face of the groundskeeper and the images in her mind spun faster and faster - arriving at the Great Hall to the spectacle of a parliament of owls winging around as the students and teachers danced in celebration … announcing the cancellation of classes for the day before leaving for the Hospital Wing to check on young Severus (and share a tipple with Poppy Pomfrey, the school healer) - only to find Hagrid guarding a bed where a baby lay sleeping while Pomfrey was tending to a still-unconscious Snape … demanding answers from the gentle half-giant and listening, horrified, to his tale … leaving the castle to apparate here to wait for the Headmaster … watching Lily's sister and her family all day and becoming increasingly disturbed the longer she watched … Dumbledore arriving, their talk, Hagrid arriving … and then -
Shaking her head yet again, she looked around and gasped. Dumbledore was still on the road, a few feet from her - face down, unmoving … her head whipped around to Hagrid who was still on his knees, weeping, his great shoulders shaking as he tried to keep a howl from escaping his lips …
"HAGRID!" Years of teaching came to the fore - she had long perfected the art of screaming in a whisper, the single word more than enough to act like a tank of ice-cold water pouring down on the big man. "Help me up!"
The trembling half-giant gently pulled her to her feet; shakily, she pulled out her wand and cast a notice-me-not charm around them, ensuring that no one could see them or even give a thought to their odd presence in this extremely normal street.
Glancing at the still form of the Headmaster, she cut her eyes to Hagrid, who quickly shook his head even as he collapsed to the ground. McGonagall bit her lip as she felt her world disintegrating - why now, she thought, why now of all days?
They were supposed to be celebrating - this was the best day of their lives! After nearly a decade of ever encroaching darkness, dawn had broken through! You-Know-Who was vanquished, her friends and students were safe … they could raise their glasses to the fallen and get drunk for the next week, classes be damned …
But THIS?
A faint whimper broke through her roiling thoughts and her head snapped up, her lips forming a thin line as she drew breath to berate Hagrid for again drawing attention to them - and stopped when she realized that it wasn't Hagrid.
'Morgana's balls!' she thought. 'Harry!'
She took a step towards the baby in the basket and stopped, the last conversation she had - that she will ever have - with her friend and mentor crashing through her mind.
He wanted to leave Harry with these people, the very ones she'd watched the whole day, whose behaviour appalled her. Unbidden, her mind recalled the sight of the rotund young boy, kicking and screaming for sweets while the horse-faced woman took it, shushing him but looking for all the world like she was headed straight for the candy store to give the young brat exactly what he was asking for and more!
She remembered her protest, her disgust at the thought of the young boy, no - the young hero of the wizarding world - being left here with these people who she'd told Dumbledore would in no way understand them.
But it was Dumbledore - teacher, mentor, friend, superior … the greatest wizard of their age … the only one He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named ever feared … the Leader of Light …
And he was dead. Killed in a freak accident by the Hogwarts groundskeeper, a most gentle man who had undoubtedly been overcome by the thought of leaving a child on a doorstep, on a cold night with only a blanket and a letter … on a muggle street that was as distant from their world that it may as well have been on the moon for many of their kind …
She had agreed with Dumbledore's reasoning, she knew - agreed, as she'd always had, every time he'd turned those twinkling blue eyes on her … against every fibre of her being, against every maternal instinct she had …
Did she owe it to the memory of the man, the Leader of Light that they had followed for decades? The man who'd held them together against the encroaching darkness, who'd led the forces of right against the sickening depravations of the second most evil wizard this century?
It was his last wish, after all. In a way, it was his final order to his followers … and she, like so many others, was his disciple. She may be his Deputy at school but she, more than any others, knew that it meant little in the total scheme of things. She was there to ensure that things ran smoothly, that the teachers were paid, that the hallways were clean, the students followed the rules and took their tests …
"Perfessor?" She blinked and realized that Hagrid was looking at her, worry in his dark eyes. She knew what he was going to ask and wished, for the briefest of moments, that he hadn't had that damned bottle that smelled worse that the locker rooms after a hard-fought Quidditch game or, even better, that the thrice-be-damned motorbike had run over her instead …
"What are we gonna do?"
It was Sirius' motorcycle, Hagrid told them - and her eyes narrowed at the retribution she'd exact from that damned boy's hide for even giving it to Hagrid … and just barely stopped her hand from slapping herself.
Now was not the time for morbid or insane thoughts. She glanced at the Dursley's doorstep and bit her lip at the sight of those small hands waving in the air, the feet kicking in the cool night air …
The mantle had passed. For good or ill, she had no choice … Albus was dead but little Harry was alive. Albus may have had his reasons but those reasons were his, not hers … and her commitments were to the living, not the dead.
Silent, she walked over to the body on the road and knelt beside it, taking a brief moment for contemplation and prayer, saying good bye to an old friend and wishing him well.
Standing up, she murmured a soft, "I'm sorry" before summoning his Put-Outer from his robes. Drawing her wand, she transfigured his body into a large box, wrapped in gaudy paper the exact shade and colour of the robes he wore this day.
Turning to the wide-eyed half-giant, she said in her no-nonsense voice, "It will nae do to brang him to the castle as he is, Hagrid." Shaking her head at the Scottish accent that had manifested itself so easily, she continued, "Straight to the Hospital Wing, Hagrid - and nae a word to anyone! Do ye understand?"
The groundskeeper nodded violently, his eyes wide as he understood exactly what the Deputy Headmistress was saying. He didn't need a mastery in Divination to realize that he was deep in dragon dung if this got out … he'd do as asked and stick to non-alcoholic butterbeer for the foreseeable future - that, or do his drinking in the safety of his hut or deep in the forest with only Aragog for companionship.
Hagrid shook his head and blinked when he realized that McGonagall had baby Harry in her arms, cooing at the little tyke softly as she approached. He opened his mouth to protest, to point out that she was supposed to leave the baby with the muggles, as per the Great Man's last instructions - but stopped and gulped when the elderly Scotswoman speared him with wintry-cold eyes.
"I know wha' he said, Hagrid - I know what he wanted … but he's nae here now, is he?"
The large man staggered back at her words, guilt crashing through him as those words cut to his soul. Before he could say anything, however, McGonagall was at his side, one hand trying to wrap around his huge hand, her suddenly-teary eyes focused on the ground.
"I'm sorry, Hagrid … I didna mean what I jus' said … it was an accident, I know that. An unfortunate accident …"
The elderly woman raised her head and looked at him with pained eyes. "Albus has his reasons … he always has his reasons, but he isn't here now. I canna leave the bairn here with these … these …"
Hagrid's eyes widened at the clearly visible struggle that McGonagall was going through - she looked ready to spit and that was something that he had never thought he'd ever see from the prim and proper professor. There was obviously more here than what he'd thought or saw … best to keep quiet for now and see what was going to happen.
He could always bring baby Harry back here in compliance with the Headmaster's last orders if he needed to. He'd make sure of that … he slumped. His duty was to the living, especially the son of his best friends … people who'd respected him, who'd looked beyond his ancestry and appearance …
He nodded at McGonagall as she continued.
"Go on then, Hagrid. Straight to the Hospital Wing - and not a word to anyone until I get there." McGonagall smiled, wryly. "How foolish of me … I'll probably be there ahead of you."
At Hagrid's questioning look, she replied, "I'll apparate myself and the bairn there - we'll be there before you can bring Albus. In the meantime …"
She sighed as she visibly centred herself. Raising her wand, she gestured and Hagrid watched as several silvery shapes shot out, heading in different directions. He nodded, recognizing the messenger spells that were a specialty of the Order and turned to the garish, purple box on the road.
As he manhandled the box to the motorbike, McGonagall placed her wand carefully in her robes. Still holding the baby in her arms, she pulled out Dumbledore's Put-Outer and clicked it once, watching silently as twelve balls of light sped back to their streetlights so that Privet Drive glowed suddenly orange.
She heard Hagrid starting his bike and stepped back, unwilling to risk another accident and smiled tightly when the huge motorcycle - still dwarfed by the huge man astride it and with the large, purple box cradled carefully in his arms - silently lifted into the air and sped off into the night.
Sighing, she carefully adjusted the sleepy babe in her arms and took a final look around. Turning on her heel, she was gone.
In a different dimension, Destiny Repair's CEO found herself the recipient of incredulous stares, and shrugged. "The Second Chance guys interfered before - they reset the time stream to just before Hagrid got on the motorbike and reminded him to switch the thing to flight before taking off."
She glanced sideways at her partner. "It's in the files, Xe."
"I see," her partner said slowly. "And if McGonagall decided to leave Harry with the Dursleys?"
Gabrielle smiled back. "But she didn't, did she?"
Xena nodded and Gabrielle chose not to elaborate. She didn't want to tell her partner that if McGonagall decided to follow the old goat's last instructions, she would have found herself splinched when she tried to apparate … and would find herself as a deckhand on the old scow, working beside the man she'd blindly trusted and deferred to.
Gabrielle shook her head. If that had happened, she'd have no choice but to have Xena hunt down Sirius Black and beat some sense into the old dog … or maybe go after Remus Lupin …
'Or someone else,' she thought to herself as the tunnel's focus shifted …
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