Good things most always come in small packages, Harry knew this well. As he looked at his face in the mirror, he wondered if he would be an exception to this phrase. As he swept his messy black hair from his eyes, he sighed in spite himself. He was destined for great things, at least that's what Sirius always told him anyway. He never doubted his uncle for he knew that Sirius' heart was in the right place, but Harry didn't feel all that special. He wasn't particularly good at anything. He wasn't very artistic, or the most intelligent boy, and he was certainly no quarter-back. This thought had been weighing on him heavily this week in particular. After all, most children know what they want to do by the age of eleven, or have a vague idea at least. Harry knew nothing of himself or this great destiny of his and he was going to be eleven tomorrow. He pondered over this as he walked down the stairs to the kitchen.
"Harry!" Sirius called his name with the enthusiasm he always did. He always look rather disheveled, but his smile would light a room. Harry couldn't help but grin to himself despite his heavy thoughts. "How did you sleep?"
"Great. Probably the best night's sleep I've gotten all week," Harry replied. He wasn't lying, for the past few nights, he hadn't slept at all. Last night he had managed to rest his eyes for an hour or two. The dark circles betrayed the happiness in his voice, but if Sirius saw it, he said nothing.
"Have you decided what you want for your birthday?" The voice of Remus Loopin questioned out from behind him. Harry jumped. As Remus walked in and kissed Sirius on the forehead, Harry worked up some courage.
"I want you to tell me what makes me so special," Harry finally declared. Sirius' eyes widened and darted at Remus. He frowned and mumbled to himself. Remus put a firm hand on Sirius' shoulder to offer support. This was the reaction Harry always received when he questioned Sirius on this. Harry looked towards Remus for back up. He held his breath.
Remus sighed, "He deserves to know, darling.." Harry slowly exhaled, the air pushing through his teeth as he waited for Sirius to speak.
When Sirius finally spoke his voice was shaky at but slowly grew steady, "I- I suppose that you're ready." He looked exhausted, his smile had faded from his lips and his shoulders sagged with the weight of the knowledge he had kept from Harry for so long. Harry had lost his parents when he was just an infant and Sirius had taken him in and raised him alongside his husband Remus. The two viewed Harry as their own son and loved him dearly. The thought of letting Harry in on these painful facts brought him to a sense of despair. After all, he had taken Harry far away from it when he was but a two year old boy, hiding him away. He knew that he had to tell his nephew before the letters started to come. A gentle squeeze on his shoulder brought him out of his thoughts.
Sirius looked at Harry, seeing at last the questions swarming in the eyes that were probing him gently. "Sit down, Harry," Sirius said. Harry obediently sat at the table across from him. His mind was a tornado in his skull, queries and ideas whizzing past his ears. Sirius then began to speak.