Harry Potter One Shots

The Greatest Gift

All rights belong to the author, SnapeGirl

Spinner's End

August, 1996:

Harry tossed down his controller and conceded defeat to his Muggle friend Paul Mosier before sprawling across his bed on his stomach and sighing moodily.

Paul brushed his brown hair out of his face and looked up at his friend. "Something wrong, Harry? Want a rematch?" Normally Harry would have agreed in two seconds, for he was very competitive when playing Mortal Kombat.

But Harry shook his head no. "Not right now."

"Are you thinking about Sasha?" Paul teased, knowing how much Harry missed the brilliant Healer of Sylvanor.

"No." Harry scowled at the ceiling. Then he said abruptly, "Paul, what do you usually get your dad for Father's Day?"

"Huh?" Paul looked totally flummoxed. "Why are you asking me that now, Harry? Father's Day was two months ago."

"I know, but . . .with the move and all . . .I . . .forgot about it and so did Da." They had been too busy fighting Voldemort to remember any kind of holiday at all. "I feel bad . . .so I was wondering . . .what's a good gift to get him?"

Paul thought for a moment. "Well, when I was little I used to make him something . . .like a pottery pencil holder or a magnet or draw a picture, you know. Stupid little kid stuff that I hope he threw in the rubbish bin by now. Then I used to get him the usual tie and dress shirt, Mum would take me shopping, or gym shoes. One year I got him tickets to his favorite sports team. Last year I cooked him dinner and cleaned out the garage without being told. This year I got him some books, he loves to read, and some of his favorite dark chocolate raspberry truffles."

"Oh. Thanks," Harry said, but he was still stumped.

Severus wasn't the kind of person you got mugs and tea for, and Harry wouldn't know how to make a pen holder if his life depended on it. Dress shirts and ties seemed too mundane and besides, he didn't even know what size Severus was. He could cook, but he didn't want Severus asking him what he was doing. He wanted the present to be a surprise, something out of the ordinary, something that showed him how much Harry cared about him. But he had no idea what that something was.

All through dinner that night, Harry turned over ideas in his head, rejecting them all. I could go to Diagon Alley and get him some potions supplies from Slug and Jiggers or Cauldrons Brimming . . .no, anybody could think of that . . .and besides, how would I get there? It's too far to fly. New parchment and quills . . .nah, that's boring. A lint roller so he can get Major's fur off his robes? I'm going round the bend.

He went to bed still struggling with the perfect gift. He spent the night recalling all the times Severus had saved his life, even before he was a hawk. He recalled all the times he had nearly given the Potions Master a coronary with his crazy stunts and schemes. He remembered how he had caught a bad fever in Calais and Severus had stayed by him all night until it went down, and he was well again. Then he recalled how Severus had allowed him to keep Major and had given him a home and a family.

How can I ever find a gift that expresses all that?

He heaved a sigh and groaned.

Hedwig lifted her head from beneath her wing and hooted irritably. Harry, what is bothering you? You're as restless as a hungry fledgling.

Harry told her about Father's Day and his wish to find the perfect gift for the man who had done so much for him.

"I know owls don't usually bother about stuff like this, but . . .do you have an idea for me, Hedwig?"