Remember the scene from Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone (the movie) where Harry opens his Nimbus 2000 at the breakfast table, wonders who gave it to him, and Professor McGonagall looks over at him and smiles? I've always loved that scene to pieces, but recently I started wondering what Harry would have done to thank her. Knowing Harry and his loving nature, he'd show his gratitude for such a wonderful gift. So, I wrote this "deleted scene" from the movie, where Harry thanks Professor McGonagall for her gift - and he unknowingly gives her something to be thankful for as well.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter; all rights belong to the inimitable J.K. Rowling. I just like to have fun with the characters now and then.


"You wanted to see me, Professor?"

As his Transfiguration teacher turned to face him, Harry Potter felt his stomach give a nervous quiver. Professor McGonagall, as much as he respected her, always made him feel as though he were in trouble on occasion – and this was one of them. He had always been more than a little in awe of her since the day he met her, and looking up at her now was no different than looking up at her from a great marble staircase. She was tall for a woman, and the fact that she carried herself with an almost regal air made her seem even taller – a daunting thing for an eleven-year-old. Add that to her dark hair pulled back in a bun, the intelligent, steely glint in her eyes, and her no-nonsense attitude, and it was no small wonder that no one messed with Professor Minerva McGonagall – or that Harry was a trifle uneasy as he met her gaze.

But surprisingly, her expression softened. "Yes, Potter. There's no need to look so frightened; I'm not Professor Snape, for goodness' sake." As he stifled a snicker, Harry could have sworn he saw her almost smile. "Sit down."

The knot in his stomach unbinding, Harry pulled a spare chair up to the side of Professor McGonagall's desk, nearer to her own chair. She likewise sat, her emerald-green robes billowing around her. "I wanted to congratulate you on an outstanding victory in yesterday's Quidditch match. I wanted to tell you yesterday, but the celebrations in Gryffindor Tower were so deafening that I never got the chance."

The knot uncoiled entirely and Harry felt himself smiling, incredibly enough. "Really? Thanks, Professor!"

"You're quite welcome, Potter, but in actual fact, I should be thanking you. Just don't let it go to your head, or you'll never be able to get that Nimbus Two Thousand off the ground."

At the mention of his broomstick, Harry suddenly remembered that he had something to tell Professor McGonagall. "Actually, Professor, I never got the chance to thank you, either – for my broomstick, I mean."

Professor McGonagall's eyes widened in amazement; clearly, this was a surprise to her. "Potter, how did you know it was from me?"

Harry smiled. "After I opened it at breakfast yesterday, you looked my way and smiled. I wanted to thank you because… that's one of the first gifts anybody's ever given me."

If Professor McGonagall looked surprised before, it was nothing compared to her expression now. She was totally thunderstruck at this new revelation; this insight into her young student's life. "Are you serious, Potter?"

Harry nodded, lowering his eyes at the miserable memories that came rushing back. "My aunt and uncle never gave me anything you would call a present. Last year, they gave me a coat hanger and an old pair of socks for my birthday, and I've never gotten anything for Christmas. I'm not complaining, Professor; I just… I've always thought that if someone gives you a gift, they're showing you how much they care about you. That's all I've ever wanted – to know that someone cares about me… that I'm loved. Hagrid showed me that when he gave me Hedwig, and you've done the same with my broomstick. I can't tell you how grateful I am for that."

In that instant, Harry, who had been stealing glances at Professor McGonagall, looked back up into her eyes – and what he saw amazed him. He'd known her eyes were blue, but glacial blue – hard as steel in the classroom and cold as ice when she was angry. Now, the ice had melted to reveal the azure warmth of the sky on a summer day – the warmth that emanated true compassion. For the first time, Harry was seeing Professor McGonagall's true self; the beautiful heart that beat beneath the stern exterior. And when she spoke, the same warmth was woven into her voice.

"You are so much like your mother," she said fondly. "If someone was kind to her, she returned the favor from her heart, asking nothing in return. You have been blessed with an extraordinary gift, inheriting her compassionate spirit."

"You knew my mother?" Harry asked, his heart giving a bound. Well, that would make sense – if Professor McGonagall had known his father when he was at school, than she would have known his mother as well.

"Very well. Lily was a Gryffindor in every way – courageous, intelligent, and fiercely loyal to all she held dear. And she was the most selfless young woman I have ever known. Somehow she found out when my birthday was, and she left me a gift on my desk every single year – without telling me it was from her."

"Why didn't she tell you?" Harry asked, eager to hear more. "When did you find out it was her?"

"That was the kind of person Lily was – she never wanted to be singled out for glory, for fear the other students would resent her for it. She began leaving me birthday gifts in her second year, but I didn't find out until two years after. I was coming into the classroom to prepare my lesson for the day when I bumped into Lily coming out. At first, I asked her why she was in there half an hour before class – and then I saw a red-wrapped present on my desk. All I could say was, 'It was you?' Lily simply smiled and said, 'Professor McGonagall, you've been so good to me that I wanted to thank you somehow, and this was the best thing I could think of.' And to my surprise, right then and there, she hugged me and said, 'Happy birthday, Professor – and thank you for everything.' No other student has done that for me since." In the pause that followed, Professor McGonagall met his gaze and gave him a sudden, yet welcome, smile. "Until now."

Harry couldn't help smiling back at her as he absorbed everything she had told him. To know that he was so like his mother, to hear about her great love and kindness… that was another gift in itself, one he would always treasure and would be forever grateful for. And most extraordinary of all, he had gotten a glimpse of the real Professor McGonagall – but that would be his secret to keep. "I guess we've both got something to be grateful for, don't we?"

In a sweet, unexpected gesture, Professor McGonagall laid a hand on his shoulder. "We certainly do, Potter. We certainly do."


Sweet, huh? They really do have such a special relationship. Please review!