Unexpected Gifts

Harry sat back, the sweat pouring down his bare back as the sun beat down harshly on him. He had been in the garden for hours, trying to get it perfect so he could have a bite to eat, but that one row of Asian lilies was being particularly stubborn. The door behind him slammed, and he flinched reflexively as he heard the strident voice of his aunt, bellowing orders at him.

"After you've finished with the flower beds, I want you to paint the fence and clean the shed. If you've finished everything to my satisfaction by one thirty, you may have something to eat. If not, you will be back out here until I say you're finished." She slammed back into the house, and Harry sighed heavily, bending forward to finish placing the lilies. When he finally got the last one placed to his liking, he stood slowly, dizzy from the position change and lack of food in the heat, and staggered to the shed, where the paint for the fence was located.

He sighed as he stepped into the cool darkness, leaning against the wall for a moment to relish the relief from the sun. He cast a wandless, wordless tempus, and scowled at the numbers floating near his face. Eleven thirty. I have two hours to finish my chores before I can eat, and only if her majesty feels it's up to her standards. He leaned there for a moment longer, trying to work out the kinks in his shoulders and back, before stepping toward the back of the shed, where Uncle Vernon kept all of the painting supplies. Wouldn't kill that fat whale to do some of this himself. Might actually lose some weight. Him and his unnaturally gigantic son. My birthday tomorrow. At least I can look forward to some food from Mrs. Weasley.

Harry rummaged for a moment, looking for the brushes. He'd found the paint and the tray, but those elusive brushes had yet to be discovered. He leaned over, looking under the bench, and spied them, still in the cellophane, under the bench in the back. As he got down on his knees to grab the brushes, his eyes fell on a black notebook. The cover was nondescript, and if he hadn't been this close to the floor, he never would've seen it in the shadows under the bench. Curious, he reached for it, lifting it closer to his face in the gloom.

The pebbled cover revealed nothing of its origins from the back, but when Harry turned it over, his emerald eyes widened in surprise. There were white Japanese characters on the front cover, glimmering in the dimness. The only reason he'd recognized them as Japanese was the shape and symmetry of them. He'd watched a Japanese street artist in London, the one time he'd been able to get away from the Dursleys for a couple of hours, and was fascinated at the graceful dance the artist performed as he marked his name with delicate brushstrokes.

Harry stroked his fingers across the characters, insanely curious as to what they said. He quickly stuffed the notebook down the back of his pants before grabbing his tools to continue his chores. An hour later, he had both the fence painted and the shed reorganized, and was sitting at the table, enjoying a half a peanut butter sandwich, no jam. The glass of water had been drained, and a second sat next to the half-eaten sandwich, nearly drained as well. Harry finished his last bites quickly, not even tasting the food in his eagerness to explore his new acquisition. He had no more chores that day, so was free to hide in his room for the remainder. He quickly cleaned his dishes, put them away, and sprinted up the stairs, waiting until he was in his room before he pulled the notebook from his pants.

He cast a nonverbal, wandless spell at the door, to ensure that he was alerted should anyone decide to barge in, and stretched out on the bed on his back, holding the notebook above his face. With another wandless spell, he translated the characters on the cover, and nearly dropped the notebook in his shock at what was revealed-DEATH NOTE. Someone's idea of a joke, he thought bitterly as he nearly threw it to the floor. Still insanely curious, though, he quickly opened the cover, eyes widening at the information written on the inside of it, the spell having translated all the Japanese on the notebook.

Death Note Rules

I

The human whose name is written in this note shall die.

This note will not take effect unless the writer has the person's face in their mind when writing his/her name.

If the cause of death is written within 40 seconds of writing the person's name, it will happen.

If the cause of death is not specified, the person will simply die of a heart attack.

After writing the cause of death, details of the death should be written in the next 6 minutes and 40 seconds.

He found similar information on the inside of the back cover, as well.

II

This note shall become the property of the human world, once it touches the ground of (arrives in) the human world.

The owner of the note can recognize the image and voice of its original owner, i.e. a god of death.

The human that uses this note can neither go to heaven nor hell.

Harry lay there for quite a long time, fighting the glee that threatened to overtake him. If this thing is true, I have the power over life and death.

Midnight came, and with it the usual birthday care packages. Several birds winged their way toward the brunet's open window, Hedwig noticeably absent. A pang of sadness welled within Harry as he thought of his lost friend. His first real friend. She had been killed by Piers Polkiss near the beginning of the summer. The skinny, rodent-like hoodlum had found her in Harry's room, sleeping in her cage, and, using a long pointed stick he had taken to carrying with him at all times, proceeded to stab at her until she was a bloody, unrecognizable mess. Harry, who had been shopping for the family, returned to find her dead at the bottom of her cage, blood dripping on the floor and Dudley snickering and gloating from the doorway. Silently, rage simmering below the surface, the raven had cleaned the mess and gently buried his beloved Hedwig near the slippery elms in the back yard. He cried for her; for the loss of her friendship, for the loss of her company. But mostly, he cried for the horrifying, trapped way in which she died, and he vowed revenge for her.

Stepping back from the window and the memories, he allowed the flock of birds to come into his room, landing on his bed and jostling each other for room. A raven eyebrow rose as he noticed a few more owls than usual, as well as a hawk. He started with the known ones, taking the cakes and meat pies Mrs. Weasley had sent, and nearly inhaling one as he looked through the rest of the packages. Books from Hermione (Harry rolled his eyes), a broom servicing kit from Ron, (Harry just added it to the growing pile; his broom had been broken by his fat bastard cousin two years ago), rock cakes and a book on magical beasts of the world from Hagrid. Once those owls had been fed, watered, and departed, he looked at the birds that were left. They look regal and expensive.

Cautiously, he approached the first eagle owl, not wanting to get bit. To his surprise, the owl nuzzled his fingers before lifting its foot to hand him the parcel and letter. Sitting down, Harry opened the package first. And gasped loudly at what was inside.

It was a Rolex. The silver band was thick, and the dial was studded with emeralds at twelve, three, six and nine. Diamonds surrounded the face, and it was a very expensive, very heavy, and very beautiful piece. Harry had felt the magic radiating from it from the moment he'd opened the package, and he grinned at the protective feel of it. Setting the watch down, he picked up the parchment, eyes widening in surprise.

Potter,

Happy birthday. I know that this must come as a surprise to you; believe me, I'm shocked as well. My father has encouraged me to try and befriend you, in hopes that you'll protect me from the Dark Lord when the time comes. As much as I love to use people to further my own agenda, I told him no. I wish to befriend you because, despite our contentious relationship, you give me a challenge. You have no fear of me, and I find that refreshing. I grow tired of the sycophants who grovel for a bit of my attention simply because I'm a Malfoy. You've never done that, and it intrigues me.

So, what do you say? Will you give me a chance to prove that I can be more than my name and money?

Draco Malfoy

Harry had noticed that the owl hadn't left, so he sat for a moment to formulate his reply.

Malfoy,

Thank you for the watch, and for the laugh. It was unexpectedly generous of you, and your letter holds its own charm. I must admit to being a bit intrigued at what a friendship between us could be like. I'll start with a well-kept secret; I was supposed to be in Slytherin. I talked the hat out of it for my own reasons, but I've often wondered if things would've been so different had I gone where I was meant.

I can feel magic in the watch. What have you had done to it? I won't put it on until I know that I'm not about to be mercilessly tortured.

HJP

He sent the owl with the reply, and turned to the next one. It, too, was an eagle owl, and it nibbled his fingers as he took the letter and package. As soon as it was removed from the bird, it enlarged, and Harry gasped when he saw the prestigious Twilfitt and Tattings label on the box. Opening it, he smiled softly as his hands stroked the rich, emerald green cashmere sweater before lifting it out to get a better look at it. Underneath was a dress shirt, complete with diamond cufflinks, and a pair of charcoal grey dress slacks. At the bottom of the box was a pair of high-end leather loafers, with argyle socks completing the ensemble. Setting the box aside, Harry opened the letter, heart pounding in excitement. This bird had stayed as well, awaiting a reply.

Potter

We are all at Draco's right now, awaiting your responses to our letters. He thought it would be a good way to get your attention, and I hope it worked. Happy sixteenth, and I hope this letter finds you well. Unlike Draco, my father didn't insist I befriend you. As Draco is our fearless leader, we abide willingly with whatever he wishes. And he wishes to be friends with you. Friendships with us will serve many purposes for you. We will provide unwavering protection and loyalty. We will open doors for you that your name will not. Ultimately, we will provide a level of care and class to which you've never been exposed. In return, you will grant us the chance to show you a type of friendship you've never known.

We've watched as your Gryffindork friends betrayed you time and again, and yet you still forgive and welcome them back to you. We honor and respect that kind of loyalty and faith, and other than each other, have never received such from anyone else. You are remarkable and I cannot wait to have the chance to corrupt the Gryffindor Golden Boy.

Zabini

Snickering, Harry replied.

Zabini,

Thank you for the clothing. I am ashamed to admit that it is the nicest outfit I've ever received. I'm glad that I'll be providing some sort of amusement for you in the coming school year. We'll just have to see how it goes.

As for my friends, they're on probation. They've been warned that, should they step one toe out of line, they're finished as my friends. I believe I've tolerated enough from them. My expectations of them aren't outrageous and I wish they'd just honor my decisions and believe what I say.

HJP

The next bird was a beautiful hawk, and its golden eyes watched Harry approach with wariness. Unlike the owls, this bird didn't warm up to Harry immediately, and he respected that. He bowed his thanks to the bird when it held out its leg, and it fluttered its wings before bowing back. The package contained top of the line skin care and hair care products, and Harry nearly laughed out loud. Eagerly, he ripped into the letter, excited to see who sent them and why.

Potter

Happy birthday. I will not be seen with someone who cannot take care of their personal appearance. Blaise has taken care of the clothing for the time being; I have volunteered to take care of your hair and skin.

You are the heir to a pureblood dynasty; the Potters are an ancient and well-respected family. Additionally, you are being invited to become a part of the most important purebloods that attend Hogwarts. You must always look the part.

You are a very beautiful young man. Before you get all blushy and defensive, pay attention. Handsomeness bespeaks a certain level of pleasantness and an adequate amount of good looks. True beauty comes from within. You glow. To keep you beautiful, use those skin and hair products to bring out the best.

Parkinson

Harry didn't even hesitate.

Parkinson

Thank you for the gifts. I will definitely use them. I'm tired of using hand soap to wash my hair. Thank you, also, for the compliments. I'm…not sure how to take them, so I'll just leave it at that. I'm looking forward to seeing how your clique works.

HJP

The final owl held out its leg, and hooted happily when Harry approached to remove the parcel. The raven grinned, sitting down to open the package after it had enlarged. Inside were several books on Dark Arts and Dark magic. Green eyes lit up with a feral glee as the brunet opened the accompanying letter.

Hello, Potter

Since everyone else has decided to deal with your body, I will handle your mind. In your hands are the best books about Dark Arts and magic that can be found. They explain more completely than anything else exactly what constitutes Dark Arts, and the theories behind Dark magic. I hope they will help you understand more completely that, just because we are Dark witches and wizards, that does not make us evil. I hope, with education, you can see the clear difference between ourselves and the Dark Lord.

I am looking forward to getting to know you better. I know that you are far more intelligent than you've shown over these last five years, and I hope that friendships with us will help you to realize your potential, and not try to hide it behind that stupidly goofy Gryffindork exterior.

Theodore Nott

The reply was short and sweet.

Nott

You are a godsend, and I can't wait to practice some of these spells with all of you.

HJP

The first time Harry decided to try the notebook was two weeks after his birthday. He was holed up in his room, nursing a broken wrist and cursing Piers Polkiss to the ninth circle of hell. He had stuffed the notebook under his mattress the night of his birthday, and had completely forgotten about it. Now, he gingerly pulled it out, using his shoulder to lever the mattress out of the way, and hissing as his broken wrist was jostled.

He lay back down on the bed once he'd retrieved the notebook and closed his eyes. Taking deep breaths, he began to meditate, reaching into his core to pull from his magic. He focused it on his wrist, and groaned quietly as his magic knit the broken bones together until his wrist was unmarred and whole. He rolled onto his stomach and examined the notebook again, re-reading the rules on the inside of the covers, before closing his eyes and concentrating. If this is real, I'll know shortly. He pictured Polkiss' face, the narrow, ratlike visage that always looked cruel and stupid, and opened his eyes, focusing them on the first line of the notebook page. Picking up a quill, he dipped it into the ink and wrote.

"Piers is dead!" Dudley yelled as he barreled through the door. Harry ducked his head to hide his smirk as he listened from the parlor door. "We were just…you know…goofing around in the park" (read: beating up little kids) "and suddenly Piers just stood up and walked out into the middle of the street. A lorry sped up and splattered him all over the road. The driver never even stopped!"

"Oh, Diddums, I'm so sorry for your little friend," Petunia wailed, rushing to engulf the whale like boy in her arms. Dudley shook his head, grinning.

"It was brill!" he gushed, eyes alight with excitement. "Blood everywhere! Half the crowd ralfed over their shoes!" Harry withdrew silently to his room, closing his door softly on the continued shouted conversation. He sat on his bed, his eyes distant as he thought about the notebook. That's just one instance, and it could be a coincidence. I'll have to do it a couple more times to see if it really works. If it does…