“是的，这令人很难过，但你需要冷静下来，海格，否则我们会被发现的，“麦格教授低语道，顺便轻拍了下海格的胳膊。与此同时，邓布利多翻越了低矮的院墙，径直走到了前门。他把哈利波特小心翼翼地放在门阶上，从披风里取出信件，塞进了襁褓（blankets)里后，返回墙院外与二位汇合。他们三个站在那里，注视小襁褓足足一分钟。海哥的肩膀颤抖着，麦格教授频繁地眨眼睛，邓布利多以往炯烁的眼神现在也看起来黯然失色。
“好吧”邓布利多最后说道，“就到这里儿吧，这里已经没有我们的任务了。咱们去参加庆祝活动吧。”
“是的，”海格发出一个非常悲弱的声音，“我要把这部摩托车还回去”晚安，麦格教授——邓布利多先生“
用衣袖擦拭流泪的双眼，海格转身跨上摩托车，用脚把引擎踩着火，伴随一阵呼啸声，升入天空，消失在天际之中。
”我希望，很快会相见的，麦格教授。“邓布利多点头朝向她说。麦格教授向上吹起自己的鼻子作为回应。
邓布利多转身走回街头，在转角他停下来，翻出银色打火机，并再次拨动，光球又回到十二盏路灯之中。于是乎，女贞路又亮起了橙黄色的灯光，以至于他可以看清楚一只斑猫，在下一个街角悄悄地溜走。他也刚好看到女贞路4号门阶上的襁褓。
”祝你好运，哈利，“他嘀咕着，突然转身，他挥动披风，嗖的一声，消失不见了。
微风吹乱了女贞路上整齐的树篱。你会预料到，在漆黑的天空下，在这最后一个安静而又整洁的地方将会有一些惊人的事情发生。哈利波特在他的襁褓里翻了下身，但没有醒。一只小手紧闭在一封信旁边，还在沉睡着，他并不知道他很特殊，也不知道他很出名，也不会知道几个小时候后，在德思礼阿姨开门放奶瓶时，他被她的尖叫声吵醒，更不会知道在几个星期之后，他表哥会戳和掐他。。。他也不可能知道在这时，人们在全国进行秘密集会，举起酒杯并小声说：“敬哈利波特，这个大难不死的男孩！”
Yes, yes, it's all very sad, but get a grip on yourself, Hagrid, or we'll be found," Professor McGonagall whispered, patting Hagrid gingerly on the arm as Dumbledore stepped over the low garden wall and walked to the front door. He laid Harry gently on the doorstep, took a letter out of his cloak, tucked it inside Harry's blankets, and then came back to the other two. For a full minute the three of them stood and looked at the little bundle; Hagrid's shoulders shook, Professor McGonagall blinked furiously, and the twinkling light that usually shone from Dumbledore's eyes seemed to have gone out.
"Well," said Dumbledore finally, "that's that. We've no business staying here. We may as well go and join the celebrations."
"Yeah," said Hagrid in a very muffled voice, "I'll be takin' Sirius his bike back. G'night, Professor McGonagall — Professor Dumbledore, sir."
Wiping his streaming eyes on his jacket sleeve, Hagrid swung himself onto the motorcycle and kicked the engine into life; with a roar it rose into the air and off into the night.
"I shall see you soon, I expect, Professor McGonagall," said Dumbledore, nodding to her. Professor McGonagall blew her nose in reply.
Dumbledore turned and walked back down the street. On the corner he stopped and took out the silver Put-Outer. He clicked it once, and twelve balls of light sped back to their street lamps so that Privet Drive glowed suddenly orange and he could make out a tabby cat slinking around the corner at the other end of the street. He could just see the bundle of blankets on the step of number four.
"Good luck, Harry," he murmured. He turned on his heel and with a swish of his cloak, he was gone.
A breeze ruffled the neat hedges of Privet Drive, which lay silent and tidy under the inky sky, the very last place you would expect astonishing things to happen. Harry Potter rolled over inside his blankets without waking up. One small hand closed on the letter beside him and he slept on, not knowing he was special, not knowing he was famous, not knowing he would be woken in a few hours' time by Mrs. Dursley's scream as she opened the front door to put out the milk bottles, nor that he would spend the next few weeks being prodded and pinched by his cousin Dudley… He couldn't know that at this very moment, people meeting in secret all over the country were holding up their glasses and saying in hushed voices: "To Harry Potter — the boy who lived!"
