Alow rumbling sound had broken the silence around them. It grew steadily louderas they looked up and down the street for some sign of a headlight; it swelledto a roar as they both looked up at the sky -- and a huge motorcycle fell outof the air and landed on the road in front of them. If the motorcycle was huge,it was nothing to the man sitting astride it. He was almost twice as tall as anormal man and at least five times as wide. He looked simply too big to beallowed, and so wild - long tangles of bushy black hair and beard hid most ofhis face, he had hands the size of trash can lids, and his feet in theirleather boots were like baby dolphins. In his vast, muscular arms he washolding a bundle of blankets.

"Hagrid,"said Dumbledore, sounding relieved. "At last. And where did you get thatmotorcycle?"

"Borrowedit, Professor Dumbledore, sit," said the giant, climbing carefully off themotorcycle as he spoke. "Young Sirius Black lent it to me. I've got him,sir."

"Noproblems, were there?"

"No,sir -- house was almost destroyed, but I got him out all right before theMuggles started swarmin' around. He fell asleep as we was flyin' overBristol."

Dumbledoreand Professor McGonagall bent forward over the bundle of blankets. Inside, justvisible, was a baby boy, fast asleep. Under a tuft of jet-black hair over hisforehead they could see a curiously shaped cut, like a bolt of lightning.

"Isthat where -?" whispered Professor McGonagall.

"Yes,"said Dumbledore. "He'll have that scar forever."

"Couldn'tyou do something about it, Dumbledore?"

"Evenif I could, I wouldn't. Scars can come in handy. I have one myself above myleft knee that is a perfect map of the London Underground. Well -- give himhere, Hagrid -- we'd better get this over with."