Disclaimer: All characters in this story belong to J.K. Rowling. This story is based upon the Harry Potter series. No money is being made from this story, and no infringement is intended. This story was intended for fanfiction.net only.

Author's note: I finished this a few minutes past midnight on the thirty-first of July, and thought it most appropriate for Harry's birthday. I've made a few assumptions, but this story should hold true to the cannon.

Gift

Lily Potter paced the living room of her home in Godric's Hollow anxiously. Where is James?

It was well past nine o'clock, and she had put Harry to bed a few minutes ago. James will be disappointed, she knew, but Harry needs his sleep. He felt a little warm. I wonder if he's caught something?

She heard footsteps in the kitchen. Her husband walked in, having Apparated home.

"James!" Lily gave him a quick kiss on the lips.

"Hello, Lily." James sounded tired. "I would have been home sooner, but--"

"It's all right. I'm glad you're safe."

"Is Harry still up?" James scanned the room for the sight of his infant son.

"I put him to bed a few minutes ago. He felt warm to me. I hope he's not coming down with a cold."

James' brow furrowed, and Lily regretted mentioning her concerns about Harry's health. Heaven knows we have enough to worry about these days.

"Have you eaten?"

"Lupin and I had a quick meal earlier. I'd have a cup of tea, all the same, though."

Lily nodded. "Let's sit down, and I'll get us some." They moved over to the sofa, and Lily summoned two teacups from the kitchen with a wave of her wand. She murmured a spell, and the teacups were filled with steaming lemon tea.

James took a sip of his. "Ah. Best thing those Muggles ever came up with."

Lily laughed. "Don't you remember from History of Magic that Chinese magicians discovered tea?"

Ordinarily, James would have laughed, but the stress of the times weighed heavily on his shoulders. The entire magical community was threatened by Lord Voldemort, and James often wondered how much longer they could fight.

How much longer can we hold out? We can't surrender. Voldemort won't stop until every last one of us has been turned to his side or killed. He shivered. Should it to that, I would die for Lily and Harry. I would do anything in my power to keep them from being his next victims. What if he took Lily and me, but missed Harry?

Lily laid a hand on his shoulder. "James, I've been thinking...there's a chance that we might not always be here for Harry. I know it isn't done that much anymore, but do you suppose that we could find a godparent for Harry?"

How is it that she follows my thoughts? James marvelled at the way Lily understood him. "It's crossed my mind several times. I, well, how about--"

"Sirius," Lily said at the same times James said "Padfoot." They smiled at each other.

"Sirius it is then," James said. "I'll speak to him tomorrow, I'm sure he will agree. We'll get an officiate, and sign the papers tomorrow night." He sighed and took another sip of tea. Somehow he felt better, knowing that Sirius would watch over Harry if he and Lily died.

Lily too relaxed. "Halloween's coming up next week. What do you say we have a party, just the three of us?"

Ten minutes. Harry Potter slipped outside the house. He glanced at the illuminated dial of his watch. Nine minutes.

He stared up at the starless sky, recalling how four years ago he had done the same countdown to his birthday. Only he had been in a shack on an island in the middle of who knew where...

Eight minutes. It was the same watch Dudley had worn that night. Dudley had cast it off last year, saying the timer no longer worked. That didn't bother Harry.

He remembered how, at the exact moment of his birth, the door to the cabin had been knocked down. It had been Hagrid, who had come to tell him of his acceptance to Hogwarts.

Six minutes. How much things had changed for him in the last few years! He was now more than halfway done with his education at Hogwarts, and already he had done much. Harry had made many friends there, helped win the House Cup three times and the Quidditch Cup once for Gryffindor, and (five minutes) faced Voldemort not once, not twice, but three times.

Voldemort. The man of a thousand nightmares, the most feared Dark wizard in a hundred years...

And to Harry, the murderer of his parents. He killed them cold-blooded. He would have killed me, too, if it hadn't been for Mum.

Three minutes. Harry reflected on his mother's sacrifice. She had given her own life for Harry's, and the power of her love had saved Harry and struck down Voldemort.

It had been almost the end of him, but Voldemort had regained human form at the end of Harry's last school year. Now, Voldemort was promising to finish the horrors he had begun.

What did you do, Harry wondered, Mum and Dad, that made Voldemort want to kill you? Why couldn't you have picked a better Secret-Keeper? We could have hidden until...

Until when? Couldn't there have been another way to Voldemort could have been overcome? What good did it do for you to die, Mum?

Instantly, Harry knew that was a foolish question. If it were not for her, he would not be alive. And though Lily's death had stopped Voldemort for only a short time, her sacrifice had given the magical community the advantage. In the second chapter of the war between the light and dark, they would be victorious.

He hoped. Yet there were times when he wished, more than anything, he could be with his parents again. I wish they could be here for my birthday. I wish they could give me a gift, and I could tell them I love them.

One minute. Harry's eyes caught on a glint in the sky. Was it a star? Or...

A silver motorcycle dropped from the sky. It was Sirius.

"Harry!" he exclaimed, taking the boy into his arms and hugging him fiercely. "I wanted to make it here for your birthday. Got my motorcycle back yesterday--"

Harry cut him off. "Thanks, Sirius." He was surprised to find that his throat was choked with tears at the sight of his parent's gift.

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