The little boy trudged down the street, faithfully putting each foot in front of each other. It was a sweltering day in July, and he was walking much farther than other boys his age would do for any incentive. He was different though. Today was his birthday, and now he was eight.
Since he was eight, he could now have a library card, so he was making the trek to the library. The library was many blocks away from his house, he had lost count at twenty-three, since he couldn't count too high, yet.
He had the hopes that if he could get the books, he could have something to do at home, since he never did anything fun there. He could read, very well in fact. At the age of eight he had already earned himself the title of geek at school, and his glasses didn't help.
Finally reaching the door of the library, he tugged it open, feeling the wave of cool fresh air washing over him. He walked proudly up to the front desk of the library, and spoke to the librarian there.
"I'm eight! I can have a library card now, right?"
The young librarian looked down at him kindly. In a way she reminded him of his next door neighbor, although she was much younger than his neighbor. There was something about the two women that caused a tickling sensation, just behind his left ear.
"You'll need to have one of you parents sign a piece of paper for you. But until then, you can read the books here," She said kindly.
He looked up at her with emotionless eyes, "I don't have parents," He said calmly.
"Oh," said the librarian in surprise.
"I'll go read now," he said sadly, and trudged towards the children's section.
He grabbed the first book that he could find that was red, one of his favourite colours. He carefully read the title. "I Love You."
'Love? What is love?' he thought to himself, opening the book, and reading it eagerly. It was a simple book, he had finished it quickly, undisturbed, but he was still unsure on what that mysterious word was.
"Excuse me miss," He said, walking back up to the librarian, who was staking books neatly on a shelf.
"Yes?" She said, turning and looking at him with kindness in her eyes like he had never seen before.
"This word," He said, pointing at the title, "Love? What is love?"
"Love," the librarian said flatly, "You don't know what love is?"
He shook his head, making his bangs fall into his eyes. He pushed them aside impatiently, and the librarians eyes watched the movement.
"Perhaps I can get you a card after all, since you don't have parents and all. How about this, on this card, I'll pretend to be your mother, OK? So whenever you are here in the library, I'll be your mother. Is that OK?"
The little boy nodded.
"Here is your card," She said handing it to him. He stared proudly at the card that said his name clearly in her clear handwriting.
"How did you know my name?" He asked, "Mum," He added on at the end, pretending like she said.
"Here, let me check that book out for you, so you can take it back home with you. Mums know many things Harry. Come back soon."
Harry turned, strangely satisfied as he walked out the door, hardly able to wait to get home and read the book once again. A book, a library, and a temporary mother. It was the best birthday present that Harry Potter had ever, ever received.