In the vast, dark void, where silence reigned supreme, the souls of the dead wandered through an ethereal and enigmatic realm.
Shadows intertwined with the faint light emanating from a distant, shimmering curtain.
Among these souls, the enchanting silhouette of a woman stood out, motionless, her sad and contemplative gaze fixed on the luminous curtain before her.
Rubeus Hagrid: "Lily... my dear Lily! My God, you're still alive!"
Minerva McGonagall: "Hagrid, please, calm yourself!"
Albus Dumbledore: "It has been a long time, Lily. Little Harry is doing well. He was just sorted into his house."
James Potter: "It's good to see you again, Headmaster. Could you explain what's happening? The last thing I remember is fighting Voldemort, being struck by the Killing Curse, and then... nothing."
Albus Dumbledore: "James, it has been more than ten years. After that night, Voldemort disappeared without a trace."
Bellatrix Lestrange: "!!!"
Bellatrix Lestrange: "That old fool is still spouting nonsense! How could my mighty master disappear if He... ahem, well, saying He vanished might be a bit premature, don't you think?"
Bartolomeu Crouch Jr: "..."
Rodolphus Lestrange: "..."
Rabastan Lestrange: "..."
The group seemed to be under a Silencing Charm.
Even some students couldn't help but give a thumbs-up to Bellatrix, their thoughts racing.
Damn, did I hear something I shouldn't have? Is someone going to silence me tonight?
These thoughts ran through the students' minds and a chill erupted from their spines.
Harry, lost in thought, stared at his mother's name.
Though he had never met her, Aunt Petunia had mentioned her only briefly, and Hagrid had shared a little more when delivering his Hogwarts letter.
A warm glow spread across Harry's face.
Was this what maternal love felt like?
Harry Potter: "Mother, I'm here!"
Lily Potter: "My dear Harry, how have you been? Are you eating well? Sleeping enough?"
Her words flowed in a rush, her heart overwhelmed with concern.
James Potter: "It's great to see you, Harry, but I think we should first discuss that curtain of light."
Albus Dumbledore: "James is right. Nicolas, do you have any idea what this is?"
Dumbledore turned to Nicolas Flamel, the greatest alchemist of past centuries.
Surely, someone who had lived for over 600 years would know something.
Nicolas Flamel: "It's good to see you, Albus. But I'm afraid I must disappoint you; I cannot decipher this curtain of light. However, it seems we won't have to wait long for answers."
As Nicolas finished speaking, the two curtains of light began to move.
The black one retreated behind the white, slowly vanishing, while the white curtain grew brighter.
A countdown began:
[10!]
[9!]
[8!]
...
[1!]
[The comparison will now begin.]
[Night on Privet Drive.
Privet Drive was quiet under the night sky, deserted except for the faint glow of streetlights illuminating the cobblestone pavement. Shadows of trees swayed in the breeze, and the occasional bark of a distant dog broke the silence.
Through the mist, a figure appeared, walking slowly. Tall, thin, and elderly, his silver hair and beard shimmered faintly. His long robes and purple cloak trailed behind him, and his twinkling blue eyes gleamed behind half-moon spectacles.
He paused to retrieve a lighter-like object from his pocket. With a flick of his wrist, the streetlamp's light was drawn into the device, revealing an alchemical tool. A tabby cat nearby caught his attention, and he smiled.
"I was expecting to find you here, Professor McGonagall."
In response, the cat transformed into a woman with square glasses and a tight bun beneath her emerald cloak.
"Good evening, Professor Dumbledore."
Her expression was stern as she followed him.
"So... the rumors are true?"
"I'm afraid so, Professor. Both the good and the bad."
"And the boy?"
"Hagrid is bringing him."
"Are you sure it's wise to trust Hagrid with this task?"
"Professor McGonagall, I would trust Hagrid with my life."
As Dumbledore finished, the sound of a motorcycle echoed above. A giant, twice the height of a normal man, landed on the road and adjusted his goggles.
"Greetings, Headmaster Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall."
"I hope there weren't any accidents, Hagrid?"
The giant shook his head and presented a baby in his arms. He could have been any baby, were it not for the lightning-shaped scar on his forehead.
Professor McGonagall, clearly anxious, spoke:
"Albus, I don't think leaving him with those Muggles is wise. They're the worst kind of Muggles I've ever seen."
"Minerva, they are his only family."
McGonagall insisted:
"This boy will be famous; there won't be a child in our world who doesn't know his name."
"Exactly. That's why it's better for him to grow up away from it all until he's ready."
As Hagrid wept quietly and McGonagall voiced her concerns, Dumbledore gently placed the child on the doorstep with a letter.
"Good luck, Harry Potter."]