Ten tiny little fingers. Ten tiny little toes. A single patch of fluffy, black hair at the top of his head. Sparkling green eyes – he'd been expecting blue, newborn baby and all that – and he was perfect. James looked down at Lily, her vibrant red hair sticking to her forehead and neck, dark circles under her eyes, tears streaming down her face, but a wide grin lit up her expression. She looked exhausted, but James thought she'd never looked more beautiful. The small bundle in her arms just made everything so much better.
"Harry." Lily broke the silence, raising one hand to wipe her eyes. "I think we should call him Harry. Harry James Potter."
James met her eyes, both of them sharing a smile, before leaning down and pressing a tender kiss to her lips. This was what they'd dreamed of together, what they'd thought was impossible because of the war, and now what had made them happier than they'd ever been. James gently stroked his son's hair, careful not to awaken or disturb him.
"Harry James Potter. Perfect."