mother all the way up the street, screaming for sweets.

 

Harry Potter come and live here!"

 

"It's the best place for him," said Dumbledore firmly. "His aunt and uncle will

be able to explain everything to him when he's older. I've written them a

letter."

 

"A letter?" repeated Professor McGonagall faintly, sitting back down on the

wall. "Really, Dumbledore, you think you can explain all this in a letter? These

people will never understand him! He'll be famous -- a legend -- I wouldn't be

surprised if today was known as Harry Potter day in the future -- there will be

books written about Harry -- every child in our world will know his name!"

 

"Exactly," said Dumbledore, looking very seriously over the top of his half-moon

glasses. "It would be enough to turn any boy's head. Famous before he can walk

and talk! Famous for something he won't even remember! CarA you see how much

better off he'll be, growing up away from all that until he's ready to take it?"

 

Professor McGonagall opened her mouth, changed her mind, swallowed, and then

said, "Yes -- yes, you're right, of course. But how is the boy getting here,

Dumbledore?" She eyed his cloak suddenly as though she thought he might be

hiding Harry underneath it.

 

"Hagrid's bringing him."