Disclaimer 1: This is fanfic. That means I do not own any of it. I just borrow it to play with for a little while and let people see the pathetic results if they really want to.

Disclaimer 2: I'm not making any money from it. It's just for fun.

Disclaimer 3: What isn't borrowed is all made up. None of this is real or most likely at all realistic. Please don't trust any of the information in here. Most likely you know more about whatever I'm writing about than I do.

Disclaimer 4: Attitudes, views and opinions expressed by the characters or in the story are not necessarily those of the author. Even when writing Science Fiction or Fantasy I do not tend to attempt to create perfect/better worlds in which everybody gets a happy end ... or whatever is best for them. Please accept that some characters will have a bad ending or be unhappy.

Disclaimer 5: I intend no insult to anyone. If I offend anyone I'm very sorry. Please understand that it was an accident as I tend to be very clumsy in these things.

Notes: Remember: Nobody has to read this, if they don't want to.

Chapter 1: The Worst Birthday

At first Harry felt disappointed that his birthday was on a transfer day that year. There'd be a feast for dinner anyway, so his cake wouldn't be as special. It would have been so much better to have it on an ordinary day!

But when he got down for breakfast he found his cake already on the Gryffindor house table. It was huge - as usual at Hogwarts institute - decorated with 12 candles and the words "Happy Birthday, Harry!"

The whole house sang Happy Birthday to You, and was rewarded with a piece of cake each. Luckily that still left enough pieces to also give some to Draco, Vincent and Gregory.

A very strange looking creature popped into view the moment Harry blew out the candles and snapped several pictures of him and his friends. As Harry was busy cutting and distributing the cake, something he'd never been allowed to do himself before, it disappeared before he could ask it any questions.

"They must be in a hurry, because they have so much to do to prepare for the arrival of the new first years," Hermione said when Harry mentioned his disappointment. "And they want to get the birthday celebration over with to be able to focus on that."

"So where are the presents?" Ron demanded.

"Oh, let Harry eat his cake in peace!" Hermione scolded him, but Harry too was curious what he'd been given.

So he pushed his plate aside and started opening parcels. There were the usual sweets, though fewer than he'd gotten at Christmas and none of them Muggle this time. Then there was a pretty eagle feather quill, a little pouch of gobstones ... a studying program for Science?

"This must be the one from my Aunt and Uncle," Harry decided.

"They must not know that computers don't work at Hogwarts institute," Hermione agreed.

"What is Science?" Draco asked.

"What are computers?" asked Ron.

"Why would they send you a study program as a gift?" was Neville's question.

"It's a very important subject in Muggle school," Hermione said. "It's all about the things they use to make their replacements for spells. Most likely they are worried because Harry isn't learning it here. He might need to know it if he wants to work for a Muggle company someday. It's a very nice thought."

"But it is useless," Harry said a little disappointedly, but then shrugged it off and put the program aside. There was still a very big parcel left, one that was so long it had been leaned against the table instead of placed on it.

He reached for it and tore off the wrapping paper to find ...

"A broom!" Ron gasped. "Somebody actually bought you your own broom!"

"Fantastic! Can we try it?" Draco exclaimed.

"Oh, wow!" gasped Gregory.

"But nobody else got his own broom!" Neville said wide-eyed.

"Own brooms aren't allowed in first year," Hermione explained. "But we become second years today, so I suppose Harry is the first one allowed to get one. I wonder who sent it, though. They must know that you play Quidditch. And they must have a lot of money. Brooms are very expensive."

"It can't be my Aunt and Uncle," Harry decided. "They sent the Science program."

"Muggles wouldn't know where to buy a racing broom," Hermione agreed. "It must have been a wizard. I bet it was the same one that sent you that cloak for Christmas."

"But who?" Draco asked. "Harry's parents are dead. Who else would care enough about a child to spend that much money?"

"Maybe it's from the school," Neville suggested. "And the rest of us will get them for our thirteenth birthdays, because we were still first years on our twelfth."

"Nonsense, brooms are much too expensive for that," Hermione said.

"And if everybody did get them," Ron added. "Why do the rest of the Quidditch team ride school-brooms?"

"You must have a magical relative still alive that you don't know about," Draco said.

"Oh yes," Neville exclaimed happily. "A grandmother or grandfather. Those are supposed to be great givers."

A grandparent? Could one meet grandparents when one was 16? But Harry still wanted to meet his Aunt and Uncle. Could one have both or was that too greedy?

That decision was still far in the future, though, and so Harry pushed the thought aside and returned to enjoying his piece of cake.