by novemberthird
Harry James Potter was truly a blessed child for he had everything a child could want. He had two parents who loved him and doted over him day and night.
His parents were also very much in love as his Uncle Remus and Uncle Sirius would remind him. His father was always bringing his mother small presents and leaving her little reminder notes with hearts and lopsided smiley faces that matched his real ones. It was the small things that would make her smile in the way only Harry and his dad could induce. Harry liked it when his father made her smile, her eyes would light up and her cheeks would become red. Harry thought she looked like Christmas and his father agreed; he spent weeks teasing his mother about it relentlessly while his mum pouted and pretended to be mad until his father nuzzled her neck and all was forgiven.
Harry noticed his father always used that strategy when mummy was mad. Harry found out it worked well for him too, mummy could never stay mad too long–perhaps because she found it funnier to just get back at them. He once saw Uncle Padfoot turn into a dog when he upset her, and like any good mother she let Harry ride on the dog's back as payback.
'Hullo, love,' his father said as he walked into the kitchen, placing a kiss on his mother's temple.
'Good morning,' his mother turned around and gave his father a small kiss on the lips. Harry watched them curiously as his finger continued moving the pencil against the parchment. He wondered why adults always kissed like that. His teacher had said you were only allowed to kiss someone when you were thirty, but his mummy and daddy were only twenty-five. He didn't think Ms Kitty was very smart if she didn't even know when the legal age to kiss was.
'Hello, Har,' his dad said as he took the seat next to him, ruffling Harry's hair affectionately. 'What are you doing?'
'Making my list for Uncle Padfoot.'
James grinned down at his son, 'What for, love?'
'My birthday's next week.'
James chuckled, 'And what do you want for your birthday, cariad bach?'
Harry sat up, his eyes focusing on his father. 'I want a brother,' he said as he passed over the list which consisted of the word "brother" with a picture drawn below of the Potters along with a blob and an overlapping red blob. 'I want him to have red hair like mummy's.'
'A brother?' HIs father shot him an amused look. 'Are you listening, Lil?' Brilliant green eyes turned to them.
'Love, you do know babies aren't made that quickly, right?' Placing the bacon on the table, she glanced at Harry. 'And it might not be a boy.'
'Where's this coming from anyways, Har?' The hazel eyes, however, remained on his mother.
'Adrian Bentley got a baby brother last week.' There was a pout on his face, 'He was bragging to everyone about it.'
Throwing his head back, his father laughed.
'We'll see,' was all that was said.
A week later on his birthday, he woke up early to crawl into bed with his parents who were whispering lovingly. His father kissing her shoulder before catching sight of him. A crooked smile appeared on his face. 'What are you doing awake, Har? It's five in the morning.' His tone was far from reprimanding him.
Instead, he moved over and made room for his son who went directly for his mother, his small arms wrapping around her waist. Her fingers softly ran through his hair. 'Happy birthday,' her eyes held tears in them which slowly began rolling down her face.
'Should we tell him?' His father asked as he moved over to his mother's other side, placing another kiss into her shoulder.
Her smile was soft and euphoric as she pushed a strand of red hair out of her face, wiping away the tears carelessly. 'I suppose since it is his birthday, he should be the first person to know.' The smile had spread across her face, he didn't think he'd ever seen his mother look so excited.
Harry buried his face into her stomach. 'Know what,' he mumbled softly.
'Have you noticed anything different about mummy, Har?' The same exhilarated look was evident on his father's face, although that went unnoticed by Harry.
'She doesn't want to play Quidditch with us anymore.' James could imagine the petulant expression that Harry donned just by his tone.
'Mmm...mummy won't be playing Quidditch for a while, cariad.' His voice was in awe as he played with a piece of her red hair subconsciously. 'Do you remember last week when you said you wanted a brother?' His father's fingers fell to caress his mummy's abdomen. Harry's lifted up his head to look up at his parents. 'We were hoping you'd settle for a sister instead, likely a late Christmas present.'
'A sister?'
'Mummy's pregnant.'
Harry's eyes widened as they stared down at him, awaiting a reaction–although perhaps not the one they received. 'Do you think she'll like Quidditch?'
His mother smiled affectionately at him before placing a kiss on top of his messy black hair. 'Of course, she'll be flying before you know it.'
Harry was silent for another moment, his head filled with thoughts of his new little sister and how long it would be until he could teach her how to ride a broom before a thought occurred to him.
'How are babies made?'
A blush appeared on his father cheeks followed by his mother's melodic laughter.
'Yes, where do babies come from, love?' Her voice was playful as she leant back into his dad who begun hiding his face in her neck. Harry thought he heard his father utter "special snuggling" before his mother once more let out another round of lovely giggles.
Harry supposed he could always ask Uncle Padfoot.
On January 6, 1986, Emma Lily Potter was born. Red hair and hazel eyes occupied his vision as his dad helped Harry support her in his arms, his mum resting in the bed with an exhausted smile.
'Hello, Emma,' Harry whispered softly, scared that he would disturb her as she began to fall asleep. 'I'm Harry, and I'm going to protect you.'