Hey! Thanks for checking this out. This collection is pretty much explained by the summary - it's a series of short drabbles about the Potter family, if James and Lily had survived. This is mainly just family fluff. :)

Enjoy!

"Harry!"

Lily Potter set her book down and quickly hurried out of the house, that now-familiar feeling of paternal anxiety welling up inside her chest. Her eyes scanned the large, green yard, searching for the source of the frightened yell she had just heard. "Harry?" she called, head turning frantically as she searched for her son. "Harry, where are you?"

A faint cough drew her gaze to the far right side of the lawn. The seven year-old was sprawled out on the grass, cradling his wrist. Lily let out a small, short gasp and immediately ran up to her son, emerald eyes wide with concern. She gently laid a hand on Harry's back, leaning closer to inspect him for injuries. Upon finding nothing too serious, she turned her attention to his hand. "Oh, Harry…" she mumbled softly, and took out her wand. Carefully, she took ahold of her son's wrist, an action that drew out a tiny wince from the injured boy.

After she had healed him, Lily rested a hand on her son's shoulder. "What happened?" she asked. "Did you trip?"

Harry shook his head, his eyes flicking from his mother to another spot on the yard. Looking behind her, Lily was surprised to see James's broom lying on the ground, a few feet away. She'd been so worried about her son's condition that she hadn't even noticed it.

Lily sighed lightly, and turned back to Harry. "What were you doing with your father's broom?" she asked in a gentle yet stern tone.

Guilty green eyes fixed a stare on the grass, and Harry mumbled something unintelligible. Lily raised a single brow. "What was that?"

"I wanted to fly, like Dad," he replied, more clearly.

"You have a broom of your own," Lily said. "Why didn't you just use that one?"

Harry shrugged. "I dunno. It's just not as fun. My broom only goes a few feet in the air, but Dad's goes way higher. Besides, I'm never going to get anywhere on a kid's broom."

"What do you mean, 'get anywhere'"?" Lily asked, confused.

Her son gave her look, as if to say isn't it obvious? "You know, the big teams, like Puddlemere United."

Lily grinned. "You want to play professional Quidditch?"

Harry looked insulted at his mother's disbelief. "Not just that," he defended. "I also wanna be Quidditch captain for Gryffindor, and...and the best player Hogwarts has ever seen!" He looked up at his mother, wearing an expression of pride and ambition. "I'm going to the best, Mum."

Laughing softly, Lily wrapped an arm around her son, helping him stand up. "You are just like your father," she said, smiling widely. "Now, let's go put up his broom and get yours. You two can train all evening when he gets home from work."

Still grinning, Lily picked up James's broomstick and walked her son inside. Just like his father indeed.

Thanks for reading! Reviews are loved. :)