Norin Davis felt that he would no longer be a staunch atheist.

He sat at his desk in his apartment, his fingers turning over the last page of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. While marveling at this magnificent and wonderful world, the book suddenly flashed with gold. The light was dazzling, and Norlin subconsciously narrowed his eyes, vaguely seeing only a strange book flying out of the golden light and breaking into his brain. A twisted and strange brilliance flashed back before his eyes, and then he lost consciousness.

I don't know how long it took, but when Norlin opened his eyes again, all he saw was a cold white in sight. The pungent smell of disinfectant filled the surroundings, and the pale lights hung from the pale ceiling. His mind raced to figure out where he was, but when he raised his hand, he found that his strength was surprisingly small.

"Congratulations, Mr. Davis, it's a boy." A young female voice interrupted his thoughts.

"Thank you!"

The face of a handsome middle-aged man suddenly appeared in Nolin's sight. Justin Davis looked happy, picked up the little Norlin carefully, as if holding the most precious treasure in the world, turned to a beautiful woman lying on the hospital bed and said excitedly: "Dear, our baby! Look, how lovely he is! ”

A loving smile bloomed on the woman's pale face. She didn't speak, just looked at Norlin quietly, her eyes containing the greatest emotion in the world, and the most indestructible determination.

"Boy! As we said before, let's call him Norlin Davis. Justin Davis whispered, forehead pressed against Nolin's wrinkled little face.

The corners of Nolin's mouth twitched imperceptibly. Even the most confused person probably understands what happened. His little mouth was deflated, and he began to cry cooperatively.

"Wow......"

Justin wasn't surprised. He raised his eyebrows and said happily to his wife, "This little fellow is crying with my courage!" ”

As the days passed, Norlin gradually accepted the fact that he had crossed over. This is Surrey, England in the 80s of the 20th century, the national economy is steadily improving, and social welfare is also improving and sound. Norlin couldn't help but be glad that he had learned English well, but if he had traveled through France and Germany, he would have had a problem with even the most basic communication. Although he is now a baby, his mind has been solidified, and it is obviously not so easy to learn a language again.

However, when he learned that their home was at 3 Privet Road, Little Whinging, Surrey, he again stared at the building next door through the window with a skeptical expression, which made Liana Davis, who was his mother, think he was hungry again and hurriedly feed him.

He also wondered many times if this was a coincidence, after all, he was just a little baby, and he couldn't verify it himself, so he could only stay in the stroller and act as a good baby. The soul of an adult is carried by a young baby, which has to be said to be a kind of torment. One night, however, when he was a year old, he confirmed his conjecture.

It was a windless midnight, and Nolin unsurprisingly lost sleep again. He was lying in the stroller, his hands resting behind his head and his legs crossed, and a lot of jumbled thoughts came to his head. Suddenly, in the corner of his eye, the street lamp outside the window went out without warning, and flew in one direction, as if something was calling. Then came the second, the third......

Norin's eyes froze, and his mind shook like thunder. With all his strength he climbed out of the crib, almost on his hands and feet, to the window, to find a place with an open line of sight, and to stare intently outside.

It was pitch black outside, with no stars in sight, only a bright moon faintly emitting a faint shimmer. A tall, thin man walked slowly. His silver hair and beard fell to his waist, and he was dressed in a robe, a floor-length purple cloak, and a pair of high-heeled boots with buckles. Behind the half-moon glasses, a pair of bright blue eyes sparkled. Privet Road has never seen such a weird person. Suddenly, as if sensing something, he turned to a wall to say hello.

Norlin gasped desperately, his heart pounding. He knew what was going to happen next.

A dexterous spotted cat on the wall quietly shapeshifts in the dark. Reappeared, a solemn woman in an emerald cloak, square glasses, and her hair held in a high bun. She looked a little agitated and walked over to Albus Dumbledore.

"I didn't expect to run into you here, Professor McGonagall." Dumbledore smiled.

"Good evening, Professor Dumbledore." Professor McGonagall asked, "How did you recognize that it was me?" ”

"My dear professor, I've never seen a cat stay stiff like this."

"If you sit on a brick wall all day, you're going to get stiff." Professor McGonagall huffed.

Norlin watched quietly from the window. It was too far away for him to hear their conversation, but that didn't dampen the frenzy and longing in his eyes.

Moments later, a low rumble pierced the silence. The sound came from the sky, getting louder and louder, and finally turned into a roar. A giant motorcycle fell from the sky and stopped on the street in front of the two.

Huge cyclists get off their motorcycles. The man was twice as tall and at least five times as wide as a normal person, surprisingly tall, and brutal—tangled in long, unkempt black hair and beard that almost covered most of his face, hands the size of trash can lids, and a pair of feet in leather boots that resembled two small dolphins. His muscular arms were holding a blanket.

"Good evening, Hagrid." Dumbledore said, sounding like a sigh of relief, "You're finally here." Where did you get this motorcycle? ”

"Borrowed, Professor Dumbledore," the giant said as he walked towards him, "Sirius Black lent it to me." I brought him, Professor. ”

Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall leaned down towards the blanket. They saw a baby boy wrapped in a blanket, sleeping soundly. The child had a stab wound under a strand of jet-black hair on his forehead, and the wound was strangely shaped, like a bolt of lightning. Dumbledore was silent for a moment, and the two beside him could clearly feel the deep regret and anger emanating from him. He stretched out his withered right hand and stroked the baby's little face with extremely gentle movements. When his fingers touched the lightning scar on the baby's forehead, his body trembled involuntarily.

The three of them talked about something in a low voice, and finally the giant Hagrid pulled out a large, stained handkerchief and began to sob. Dumbledore patted him on the shoulder and comforted him, picked up the baby boy, and stepped over the low courtyard wall of the garden towards the gate. He gently lowered the baby boy on the steps of the gate, took a letter from his cloak and stuffed it into the baby's blanket. Then go back to the other two. The three of them stood there staring at the little blanket for a full minute.

"Let's go." Dumbledore whispered. Hagrid said goodnight, wiped his tearful eyes with the sleeve of his coat, stepped on the motorcycle, stepped on the engine, and disappeared into the night with the roar.

Dumbledore watched him leave. When he turned around again, a spotted cat slipped around the corner of the street.

"Good luck." Dumbledore muttered, turning around with his feet on his feet, only to hear the cloak thump and disappear.

However, he and Professor McGonagall glanced at the building across from him before leaving.

Opposite No. 4 Privet Road, next to the window on the second floor, the heat in Nolin's eyes lingered for a long time.

"Boy who doesn't die......" the upstairs baby said to the baby downstairs at the door, "Hello, Harry Potter." ”