Bold text is taken directly from Harry potter and Philosopher stone. I don't own Harry Potter. He is creation of greatest writer J K Rowling. I also want to thank my sweet and hard working beta reader SongQuake to make this work readable.
CHOSEN ONE
"Bella, where are you going?" A lanky framed man asked as he ran behind a woman. He was wearing a long black robe, face hidden behind mask.

The woman flourished her robes leaving a trail behind. A Dark Mark could be seen hovering over the Potters' house. All the other weak runts must have fled by now.
"Bella stop." In haste to stop her, he pulled on her sleeve.

"How dare you touch my hem? Crucio!"

The man writhed in agony. "Know your position, Barty Whelp.

Pleasure coursed through her body diminishing some grief.

Barty Crouch patiently got back on his legs. His mask was askew on his face –showing the visage of youth.
Barty followed her, albeit maintaining some distance.
Bella twirled her wand around and cast a Disillusionment charm. The village is visible, twinkling in fairy light. The Muggles were smarming like angry bees, hence making it difficult to walk in disillusions' state.

She is one of the few to whom the Dark Lord confessed his plans.

"Whoa, look at the fireworks!"

"Who did it?"

All convened to watch a fluorescent skull with a protruding snake for its tongue, floating in the sky.

"What happened? Where is the Dark Lord?"
Bella was musing the same thought. In sheer happiness, the Dark Lord would have crushed all these vermin.

"I know that rat Wormtail betrayed us. He led the Dark Lord into a trap."

"Silence." Barty Crouch stopped speaking. "The Dark Lord is the strongest wizard alive. He cannot fall to any puny trap."

The broken down Potter house came into their view. The Dark Mark had broken the Fidelius charm, but the house's Muggle-repelling charms were still working.
A giant man was talking raptly with her cousin Sirius. Hugging the half giant, Sirius disappeared. The giant man sat on equally giant bike and kicked the engine into life.

The incident that would change history happened in a moment. Bella's eyes spotted Harry, so small that he was comfortably nested into the half-giant's palm. Something strange clutched her heart, a raw feeling. More pure than she did when casting the Cruciatus curse. 'SAVE HIM, PROTECT HIM', she heard.

For the first time, Bella could feel the wrongness of her path. Since the sacrifice of her son, love of her husband was lost, replaced by loneliness, hatred, fear. She could redeem herself; lead a life in a new light, with the Dark Lord gone.

"That brat is alive. How is this possible?" Crouch moaned. "If I take him, I will be the Dark Lord's most trusted."

"Avada- !" Crouch was about to perform the killing curse on Harry.

'Stupefy'

'Obliviate'.

A man appeared on the corner the cat had been watching, appeared so suddenly and silently you'd have thought he'd just popped out of the ground. The cat's tail twitched and its eyes narrowed.

He was tall, thin, and very old, judging by the silver of his hair and beard, which were both long enough to tuck into his belt. He was wearing long robes, a purple cloak that swept the ground, and high-heeled, buckled boots.

Albus Dumbledore.

Albus Dumbledore is busy rummaging in his cloak, looking for something. But he did seem to
Realize he was being watched, because he looked up suddenly at the cat, which was still staring at him from the other end of the street. For some reason, the sight of the cat seemed to amuse him. He chuckled and muttered, "I should have known."

He found silver cigarette lighter. He flicked it open, held it up in the air, and clicked it. The nearest street lamp went out with a little pop. He clicked it again - the next lamp flickered into darkness. Twelve times, he clicked the Put-Outer, until the only lights left Overall Street were two tiny pinpricks in the distance, which were the eyes of the cat watching him. 

Dumbledore slipped the Put-Outer back inside his cloak and set off down the street toward number four, where he sat down on the wall next to the cat. He didn't look at it, but after a moment, he spoke to it.

"Fancy seeing you here, Professor McGonagall."

Professor McGonagall shot a sharp look at Dumbledore and said, "The owls are nothing next to the rumors that are flying around. You know what everyone's saying? About why he's disappeared? About what finally stopped him?"

It seemed that Professor McGonagall had reached the point she was most anxious to discuss, whatever "everyone" was saying, she was not going to believe it until Dumbledore told her it was true. Dumbledore, however, was choosing another lemon drop and did not answer.

"What they're saying," she pressed on, "is that last night Voldemort turned up in Godric's Hollow. He went to find the Potters. The rumor is that Lily and James Potter are - are - that they're - dead. "
Dumbledore bowed his head. Professor McGonagall gasped.

"Lily and James... I can't believe it... I didn't want to believe it...

Oh, Albus..."

Dumbledore reached out and patted her on the shoulder. "I know... I
know...," he said heavily.

Professor McGonagall's voice trembled as she went on. "That's not all. They're saying he tried to kill the Potter's son, Harry. But – he couldn't. He couldn't kill that little boy. No one knows why, or how,
But they're saying that when he couldn't kill Harry Potter, Voldemort's power somehow broke - and that's why he's gone.

Dumbledore nodded glumly.

"It's - it's true?" faltered Professor McGonagall. "After all he's done... all the people he's killed... he couldn't kill a little boy? It's just astounding... of all the things to stop him... but how in the name of heaven did Harry survive?"

"We can only guess," said Dumbledore. "We may never know."

Professor McGonagall pulled out a lace handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes beneath her spectacles. Dumbledore gave a great sniff as he took a golden watch from his pocket and examined it. It was a very odd watch. It had twelve hands but no numbers; instead, little planets were moving around the edge. It must have made sense to Dumbledore, though, because he put it back in his pocket and said, "Hagrid's late. I suppose it was he who told you I'd be here, by the way?"

"Yes," said Professor McGonagall. "And I don't suppose you're going to tell me why you're here, of all places?"

"I've come to bring Harry to his aunt and uncle. 

They're the only family he has left now."

"You don't mean - you can't mean the people who live here?" cried Professor McGonagall, jumping to her feet and pointing at number four. "Dumbledore - you can't. I've been watching them all day. You couldn't find two people who are less like us. And they've got this son - I saw him kicking his 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! Can't 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."

"You think it - wise - to trust Hagrid with something as important as this?"

I would trust Hagrid with my life," said Dumbledore.
"I'm not saying his heart isn't in the right place," said Professor McGonagall grudgingly, "but you can't pretend he's not careless. He does tend to - what was that?"

A low rumbling sound had broken the silence around them. It grew steadily louder as they looked up and down the street for some sign of a headlight; it swelled to a roar as they both looked up at the sky – and a huge motorcycle fell out of the air and landed on the road in front of them.

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

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

"No problems, were there?"

"No, sir - house was almost destroyed, but I got him out all right before the Muggles started swarming' around. He fell asleep as we was flying' over Bristol."

Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall bent forward over the bundle of blankets. Inside, just visible, was a baby boy, fast asleep. Under a tuft of jet-black hair over his forehead, they could see a curiously shaped cut, like a bolt of lightning.

"Is that where -?" whispered Professor McGonagall.

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

"Couldn't you do something about it, Dumbledore?"

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

Dumbledore took Harry in his arms and turned toward the Dursleys' house.

"Could I - could I say good-bye to him, sir?" asked Hagrid. He bent his great, shaggy head over Harry and gave him what must have been a very scratchy, whiskery kiss. Then, suddenly, Hagrid let out a howl like a wounded dog.

"Shhh!" hissed Professor McGonagall, "you'll wake the Muggles!"

"S-s-sorry," sobbed Hagrid, taking out a large, spotted handkerchief and burying his face in it. "But I c-c-can't stand it - Lily an' James dead - an' poor little Harry off ter live with Muggles -"

"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. 

Suddenly Dumbledore straightened. "Subtlety is not your style, Bella."

""Dumbledore, you can see through Disillusionment?"
"Bellatrix!" McGonagall screamed pointing her wand.
"You." Hagrid growled pulling Harry deeper.

"Only someone like you would step foot on a Muggle dunghill like this," Bellatrix sneered.

"Are you here for some lemon drops?" Dumbledore asked mildly, but his eyes held no twinkle.

"I want Harry…." But before she could complete her sentence, she was immobilized, unable to move.

"Yeh jest. That monster killed James...Lily. You wanta kill harry. I canna let yeh do it," Hagrid howled.

"Calm down Hagrid." Dumbledore mildly chided.

"I can protect him. Love Harry more than that those Muggle scums."

"Love him, Bella?" Dumbledore stared intently into the too innocent eyes.

"Merlin's hat Lily! What have you done?" Dumbledore cursed, playing with his beard.

"I can become valuable. I can work to bring the Dark Lord down."

"What happened, Albus? What is she babbling about?" McGonagall asked, her question punctuated by Hagrid's howl.

"Lily choose Bella as Harry's protector."

"How is that possible?" McGonagall asked in surprise.

"Love sometimes makes strange choices."

Bella fell on the ground as the immobilization spell lifted. She sprang back to her legs like a tigress.
"Albus, you are not seriously thinking of handling Harry to her."

"Meet me afterwards. I can explain."

"Night cap, Albus," McGonagall replied curtly before turning back into a cat. The cat stared fiercely at Bella before walking away.

"Hagrid, could you just drop Harry at Lestrange Manor? Wait for me. I will shortly be there after some talk with young Bella."

"Okay, Professor Dumbledore, sir." He roared off.
Bella too disappeared.

Dumbledore turned and walked back down the street. On the corner, he stopped and took out the silver Deluminator. He clicked it, returning all the stolen light. He cast his eyes over Private Drive one last time. Then, he too disappeared, thinking of what the future had in store for him