"Mummy!" A little voice cried out to catch her drifting attention, the plaintive tone suggesting it hadn't been the child's first attempt.
"Yes, my darling." She gently replied, making sure to turn toward the little boy kneeling beside her on their couch and give him her entire focus.
"Where's Daddy?"
She sighed and combed her fingers through his messy black hair. "Daddy is visiting your mother this morning. It's her birthday."
"Can I make her a present?" He bounced excitedly on his knees, shaking the sofa. The new glasses he wore slipped down to the tip of his nose and he frowned at them, crossing his vibrant green eyes.
"That is a wonderful idea, darling. I'm sure she'd love that." She smiled tenderly at him and slid his glasses back into place. "What would you like to make for her?"
"I can make my tin soldiers march for her like I did for Daddy the other day!" He squealed and stood on the cushion. Quick reflexes honed from her previous life let her catch the boy mid leap as he tried to hurdle over the back of the sofa, no doubt in search of his toys. She used an arm to easily sweep his little legs out from under him and plopped him in her lap.
"That was impressive magic, especially for a little boy your age." She cuddled him close and dropped a kiss on his baby soft fringe. "How many soldiers was it you had marching all together this time?"
He scrunched up his tiny nose and made his adorable thinking face for a moment. "I think it was a million, Mummy."
"I see." She nodded seriously. "Can you show me with your fingers how many?"
He held up both hands in the air directly in front of her face and spread his fingers apart as far as he could. "That many."
"That is ten." She corrected, encouraging him to say the numbers along with her as she pointed to each of his fingers to count them. "Ten of your soldiers! That's three more than last time. Good job, darling!"
"Do you think she would like to see me do it, Mummy?" He mumbled, suddenly nervous, and looked up at her face with wide eyes.
"Harry," She whispered, brushing his pale cheek, "I know she would. Your mother is just as proud of you as I am."
"Daddy says she already sees it."
"Your daddy is right, she does."
The little boy was silent for a moment, watching his fingers twist a curl that had escaped from her plait. He pressed it against his lips and snuggled his head beneath her chin. Rubbing his back comfortingly, she held him in her arms tight to her chest until he was ready to pull away again.
"Do you want to make her present something else?"
"Yeah." He whispered. "She's seen my soldiers."
"Something special, just for her?"
"Yeah, Mummy." Harry leaned back and stared at her hopefully.
"How about a drawing?"
"She's seen me draw before." He grumbled, slouching and crossing his arms.
"Each and every drawing you make is special and unique, Harry." She encouraged but made sure to use a voice firm enough to quell his rising temper.
Thankfully, he uncrossed his arms and stared up at her speculatively as if to see if she was telling the truth.
"How about your draw your mother a picture of the family?" She suggested. "Then you can give it to her to keep."
"Yeah!" He yelled, excited again now that he had a new plan. "I can do that, Mummy."
He jumped off her lap and ran to sprawl on his belly on the kitchen floor. She quickly set before him some fresh parchment and his favorite crayon box. Then she lowered herself to her stomach beside him to watch.
Numbers weren't quite his strong point but her Harry was a talented little artist.
He first drew a tree in one corner and a sun in the other. Then came a row of wiggly stick figures with big circles for heads and one long line through their middles, probably for joined hands. Harry cocked his head and suddenly changed his mind, instead marking big V shapes for arms on the two figures farthest to the side, as if they were cheering.
She pointed at them when he added black and then yellow shaggy hair and asked, "Your uncles?"
"They're having a party," He nodded, "see?"
None of them had faces because he said those were still too hard but he took his time carefully scribbling hairstyles and clothing for each figure.
"This one's me." Harry announced, giving the smallest figure in the center spiky black hair in every direction. A second, much taller sphere directly behind that was given identical black lines around its head. "That's Daddy."
She smiled to herself as she watched the line of family members stretch in either direction around the drawing of the little boy in the middle. She hadn't been able to give him everything like she'd hoped but this life was already so much better than his first.
Two stick figures on either side of the father and son were given triangle dresses. The one on the right she recognized as herself from the cloud of brown hair that rose up to be almost as tall as the tree in the corner. The woman on the opposite side was given straight orange hair that touched the grass.
"Harry, who is this?" She pointed a shaking finger at the final man being added to the drawing and linked to the red-haired woman. Black lines fell around the figure's head to its shoulders. She could almost imagine the odd square attached to its shoulders as a black cloak meant to billow around him as he walked. This was a man she knew Harry had never had a chance to meet in this new life.
"That's the nice man. He's always holding her hand when they come to visit me sometimes while I'm sleeping." Harry answered sweetly, preoccupied with coloring his present.
She stared at him in shock for a moment with her breath caught in her throat. Quickly swallowing and blinking away the sudden wetness in her eyes, she kissed the top of his head.
Harry happily added colorful squiggles above the family he'd drawn. He grabbed the golden crayon nub and excitedly smacked a single dot in the center of the sky. It would seem he wanted a quidditch game in the background.
When he announced he was finished, she helped him into his winter coat and gloves and safely tucked away his present in her purse. The pair Flooed into the little pub in Godric's Hollow and shuffled hand in hand down the snowy lane.
"Daddy!" Harry called as soon as he saw the man kneeling beside the familiar block of stone. He let go of her hand and rushed forward to throw himself into the welcoming arms of his father.
"Harry." James sighed in relief, holding the little boy close and pressing his face into the black hair escaping from beneath his hood.
"I made her a present!" Harry stretched a hand back to her and made little grasping motions for the drawing. When she dutifully handed it over, he waved it enthusiastically in front of James' nose. "See, Daddy? Look!"
"That is a beautiful present, little man. She'll love it." His father smiled proudly. "Well done, Harry."
The boy turned to the stone slab and held his present high in the air to show it off. "Happy Birthday!"
James stood and came to hold her hand as together they watched Harry animatedly begin to tell his mother about his drawing, his tin soldiers, and the new broom he received for Christmas.
"Thank you, Hermione." James murmured, squeezing her hand. "Thank you so much for giving me more time with him."
Tucking herself under his arm, she hugged him close. Hermione cast a gentle warming charm when she realized how cold he had let himself become as he privately mourned his first wife that morning.
"I love you James." She whispered. "Lily and I are lucky women to have you and Harry."
James rested his chin on her head and sniffled quietly. She could feel his love in the tight grip he had around her shoulders but understood he was too choked up to reply.
Harry eventually concluded the tale of his Christmas morning present adventure which had been cleverly orchestrated by his two Marauder uncles. He carefully laid out his present on his mother's grave then put a tiny gloved hand on her headstone and kissed the back of it.
"I love you, Mother." Harry innocently confessed. "Daddy misses you. Me and Mummy take good care of him, I promise."
The little boy spun on his heel and joined their hug, his grip tight on their legs. James hauled him into his arms and she tugged down the edge of his coat where it rode up.
"I'm hungry Daddy."
"Alright, let's head home." James wrapped his free arm around her waist. He held his family close as he led them quietly passed the pair of headstones for Lily Evans Potter and her dearest friend Severus Snape.
The sun shone brightly despite the chill while they walked down the cobbled lane. Hermione watched as Harry peeked over his father's shoulder and waved back at the wintery graveyard.
"Do you see them, Mummy?"
She gazed behind them, seeing nothing but shimmering snow.
"Who do you see, darling?" Hermione asked though she felt she knew who he was waving to.
"Mother and the nice man really like my present." James paused and hesitantly looked behind them too.
"Wave goodbye with me!" Harry swung his tiny hand in the air with even more enthusiasm and scrambled to climb higher in his father's arms.
Hermione lifted a hand and waved at the distant headstones. Silently, she said a prayer and thanked them from the bottom of her heart. Her own meddling with time hadn't saved everyone but their sacrifice that horrible Halloween night had allowed for a future full of safety and love for Harry.
James slowly copied her, the sadness in his eyes lifting as a faint smile softened his face. Letting out a heavy breath that seemed to cleanse him, James took her hand in his and pressed their lips together in a firm, smacking kiss.
"Ew, Daddy!" Harry squealed but giggled along with his father's booming laugh. Grinning, James led his little family down the lane again, toward home.