Sandra Techau

[It is nighttime in Surrey, we see an owl on the street sign "PRIVET DRIVE" and the camera pans to the street with very identical looking brown bricked houses. The owl flies away and an elderly man with crimson robes and a long silvery white beard named Albus Dumbledore walks out of a forest near the street, past a tabby cat standing next to what looks like a shed. He takes out his deluminator and activates it. Dumbledore zaps all the light out of the lampposts. He puts away the device and a cat meows. Dumbledore looks down at the cat.] Dumbledore: I should have known that you would be here...Professor McGonagall. [The cat silently looks at him, and the camera turns towards a wall. The cat's shadow turns into a woman with a tall hat and emerald robes. There are footsteps and Minerva McGonagall is revealed.] McGonagall: Good evening, Professor Dumbledore. Are the rumours true, Albus? Dumbledore: I'm afraid so, Professor. The good, and the bad. McGonagall: And the boy? Dumbledore: Hagrid is bringing him. McGonagall: Do you think it wise to trust Hagrid with something as important as this? Dumbledore: Ah, Professor, I would trust Hagrid with my life. [There is a motor sound, and the two professors look up to see a flying motorcycle coming down from the air. It skids on the street and halts. A large man with shoulder length black hair and beard named Rubeus Hagrid takes off his goggles.] Hagrid: Professor Dumbledore, sir. Professor McGonagall. Dumbledore: No problems, I trust, Hagrid? Hagrid: No, sir. Little tyke fell asleep just as we were flying over Bristol. Heh. Try not to wake him. There you go. [Hagrid hands a baby wrapped in a bundle over to Dumbledore.] McGonagall: Albus, do you really think it's safe, leaving him with these people? I've watched them all day. They're the worst sort of Muggles imaginable. They really are... Dumbledore: The only family he has. [They stop outside a house which is 4 Privet Drive.] McGonagall: This boy will be famous. There won't be a child in our world who doesn't know his name. Dumbledore: Exactly. He's better off growing up away from all that. Until he is ready. (He places the baby on the ground slowly. Hagrid sniffles, he is sobbing a little. He clears his throat.) There, there, Hagrid. It's not really goodbye, after all. (Hagrid nods. He takes a letter and places it on the baby, who is now at the foot of the door.) Good luck, Harry Potter. [The baby has a lightning-bolt shaped scar on his forehead. The camera slowly zooms towards the scar which glows brightly and it immediately flashes, transitioning to a stormy cloud sky. The film's title in metallic gold zooms out around the camera, and lightning flashes to brighten it up. Then, the lightning flashes engulf the screen, transitioning it to the present time.]

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