The night was dark and cold on the street of Privet Drive. And to say it was dark, it was really dark: all the streetlights were off, so even the most nosy person couldn't see what was going on.

In the darkness, a pair of eyes gleamed. They belonged to a woman, but not just any woman: a witch, Professor McGonagall. She pushed her square glasses up her nose to better distinguish the man sitting next to her, on a brick wall of the street. He had long, silver hair and beard, and seemed busy unsticking two sherbet lemons. It was Albus Dumbledore.

There seemed to be a silence, until Professor McGonagall spoke up to continue the conversation they had started before:

"The owls are nothing to the rumours that are flying around. You know what everyone's saying? About why he's disappeared? About what finally stopped him?"

The "he" in question was the greatest dark mage, Voldemort. Or, as he was often more called: You-Know-Who. He had disappeared that night, and the wizarding world was celebrating this event.

Dumbledore, however, did not answer Professor McGonagall.

"What they're saying is that last night, Voldemort turned up in Godric's Hollow." she pressed on. "He went to find the Potters. The rumour is that Lily and James Potter are... are... that they're... dead."

Dumbledore bowed his head, still silent. Professor McGonagall gasped.

"Lily and James... I can't believe it... I didn't want to believe it... Oh, Albus..."

Dumbledore patted her shoulder.

"I know, I know..." he said heavily.

"That's not all." Professor McGonagall went on. "They're saying he tried to kill the Potters' son, Harry. But... he couldn't. He couldn't kill that little boy. No one knows why, or how, but they're saying that when he couldn't kill Harry Potter, Voldemort's power somehow broke, and that's why he's gone."

Dumbledore nodded.

"It's- it's true?" Professor McGonagall asked, shocked. "After all he's done, all the people he killed... He couldn't kill a little boy? But how in the name of heaven did Harry survive?"

"We can only guess." Dumbledore replied. "We may never know."

Professor McGonagall pulled out a handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes under her glasses. Dumbledore gave a great sniff as he took a golden watch from his pocket and examined it. It was a very odd watch. It had 13 hands but no numbers: instead, little planets were moving around the edge.

He put it back in his pocket and said:

"Hagrid is late. I suppose it was he who told you I'd be here, by the way?"

"Yes. And I don't suppose you're going to tell me why you're here, of all places?" Professor McGonagall guessed.

"I've come to bring Harry to his 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?!"

Professor McGonagall jumped to her feet and pointed at the number 4 of Privet Drive.

"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 him kicking his mother all the way up the street, screaming for candies. Harry Potter come and live here!?"

"It's the best place for him. His aunt
and uncle will be able to explain everything to him when he's 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 him! We need to put him up for adoption."

"Adoption?" Dumbledore repeated thoughtfully. "Hm... It's true that would be wiser. But I have a better idea. Just let me owl Hagrid to warn him, he was supposed to bring the boy here, and I will tell you about it."

Professor McGonagall found the idea of ​​entrusting this task to Hagrid wacky, but said nothing. She watched Dumbledore pull out a piece of parchment and a quill, and he began to write. Finally, he pulled an owl out of his cloak, as if that was perfectly normal, tied the parchment to its paw, and sent it flying up into the night sky.

Dumbledore turned to the witch.

"I may know a family that could take him in. They're not exactly wizards like us, but I know they'll accept him no matter what he is. They are the Addams."

"...Are you sure it's wise to entrust Harry to the Addams Family?" Professor McGonagall asked, a bit skeptical.

"Yes. They are different, but they have good hearts. Like us, wizards. Let's go to see them."

"Right now?"

"Right now."

And with those words, the two wizards left Privet Drive.

~~~

Using a Portkey, the two arrived in America, specifically the town where the Addams lived. They approached the mansion, and Dumbledore knocked.

Gomez opened the door.

"Albus?" he said.

"Gomez, my friend." Dumbledore answered calmly. "Sorry to bother you in the middle of the night. Can we come in?"

"Um, of course. How do you do, Albus?"

"We came to talk about something important." Dumbledore replied, entering with Professor McGonagall. "Is Morticia sleeping?"

"Yes, but we can wake her up." Gomez said.

They all went to Gomez and Morticia's room. Gomez stopped and stared at Morticia's face, she was lying, her eyes shut.

"Look at her..." he whispered. "I would die for her.... I would kill for her... Either way, what bliss."

Morticia's eyes opened.

"Unhappy, darling?" Gomez asked.

"Oh, yes. Yes, completely." Morticia replied.

"Can we... just talk?" Professor McGonagall asked, looking away.

"Oh yes, of course." Gomez said.

"Albus? Minerva?" Morticia asked, as she sat up. "What bring you here?"

"Well, Voldemort is gone." Dumbledore explained.

"Voldemort? Wasn't he the dark wizard?" Morticia said.

"Yes... And he killed Lily and James Potter." Professor McGonagall added.

"Oh, that's a shame... We could take care of the funeral. This will be Wednesday's first."

"Wednesday is your daughter, I believe. She's 1, isn't she?" Dumbledore questioned, after a few seconds of thinking.

"Yes, the same age as the Potters' son..." Gomez noted. "By the way, how's the boy? Is he dead too?"

"No, Harry is alive." Professor McGonagall replied, shaking her head. "He is now an orphan, and Dumbledore... wants you to take care of him."

Gomez and Morticia barely exchanged a look and nodded.

"Of course we'll take care of their son. It would be an honor." Morticia smiled.

"You... decided so quickly!?" Professor McGonagall blurted out, stunned. "I could have thought of a small discussion..."

"Why? The decision has already been made. You can't let a boy grow up alone, without any family! Especially if he is the son of people as charming as the Potters." Gomez said. "You'd have to be sick! That would be atavistic cruelty! Perverse barbarism! Such wickedness..."

He swore in a foreign language. Morticia seemed the only one to understand, as she gasped:

"Gomez!"

"Sorry, cara mia, I got carried away..."

"Anyway... Could we find out more about what happened with the Potters and Voldemort, Albus?" Morticia asked, turning to Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall.

"Obviously." Dumbledore agreed. "But first, let's go outside. Hagrid is coming."

"What a lovely name, Hagrid. Who is he?" Morticia asked as she took Gomez's hand to stand up.

"The Keeper of the Keys and Grounds of Hogwarts. Hogwarts is the school of sorcery of which I am the director. Harry is already enrolled there." Dumbledore explained as they walked through the mansion.

"Already? I'm sure he'll be a brilliant wizard when he grows up, will he, mon cher?" Morticia cooed to Gomez.

"Without a doubt, Tish." Gomez smiled.

The small group went out in front of the mansion, under the freezing wind of November. Dumbledore's silver hair glinted slightly in the moonlight, and Professor McGonagall pushed up her glasses. The Addams lovers held their hands, exchanging a quick look.

However, the Hagrid wasn't there yet. There was no sign of him, only the silence that reigned, and which seemed to be prolonged.

A low rumbling sound suddenly broke the silence around them. It grew louder, and soon turned into a roar. Everyone looked up to see a huge motorbike fall out of the sky and land in front of them.

If the motorbike was huge, it was nothing compared to the man riding it. He looked like a giant, and seemed wild with his tangled hair. He was holding a bundle of blankets in his muscular arms. It was...

"Hagrid." Dumbledore said, souding relieved. "Where did you get that motorbike?"

"Borrowed it from Young Sirius Black, Professor Dumbledore, sir." Hagrid replied, climbing off the motorbike. "Hello, Mrs and Mr Addams. Hello, Professor McGonagall. I've got him. He fell asleep."

"Can we see him?" Gomez asked, looking like a excited and happy little man.

Hagrid nodded and carefully held out his arms. Morticia gently took the bundle of blankets, and the two lovers bent over. Inside, barely visible, was a sleeping baby boy. Morticia pushed aside a tuft of black hair and slowly ran a finger over a cut, curiously shaped like a bolt of lightning, on his forehead.

"Harry..." she whispered.

"This is where Voldemort tried to cast the spell." Dumbledore murmured. "He'll have that scar forever. I can't do anything about it."

"It's okay. That scar makes him even more unique." Gomez said, beaming. "We'll embrace that small yet charming detail."

He and Morticia smiled.

"Harry Addams... The Boy who unfortunately lived." they both cooed.