The tree has been charmed to alternate between red and gold. He doesn't quite know why it is still up; Christmas was almost a week ago. Ginny mentioned something about Lily liking the colours. Maybe that's it.

As he raises his wand to remove the charm, James and Albus hurtle round the corner from the kitchen and into Harry.

"Oof," he lets out as his sons tackle him to the floor.

"Dad, James won't let me play with his dragon!"

Harry pulls himself up and separates the quarrelling boys.

They've been like this since Christmas, when James had unwrapped his model replica of a Hebridean Black, a gift from his Uncle Charlie. Ginny had disapproved strongly when the boys had discovered it breathed actual fire and had set about trying to get it to burn each other. When all three children were fed and safely in bed that night, she had confiscated it from the boys' room and hidden it in Harry's study.

Unfortunately, a Potter is a Potter, and Lily of all people had been somehow manipulated and managed to sneak into her father's private study and retrieved the toy by climbing onto Merlin knows what to reach the top shelf. Ginny had been furious (that is one of the things he loves about her, Harry reflects, her passion and protective love for their children) but as it was Christmas, she had relented on the basis that if anyone got hurt the dragon would be sent straight back to Charlie.

Until now, the boys have been responsible (or as responsible as you can expect two young boys to be) and kept Lily and themselves away from harm. But now it seems James has taken possession over his toy, if his younger brother's complaints are true.

Harry runs a hand through his ever-messy hair.

"Alright, boys, calm down." He turns to James. "Where's the dragon?"

James stays silent at first then gives in and responds in a whisper.

"What's that?" Harry bends down to hear.

James whispers again, his lips barely moving.

"No, James, you're going to have to do a lot better than that."

"I'll tell you," James says, "if he doesn't hear."

He nods sulkily at Albus, who looks outraged.

"But I want to play with it! Mum says you have to share!"

"Alright," Harry stops the fight he knows is about to kick off and rubs his eyes; all he wants is a relaxing evening counting down to the new year, maybe a few bottles of Butterbeer (he is strangely adverse to Firewhiskey, something Ron and George don't understand) and his kids to be blissfully (and unrealistically) quiet.

"Al, you wait outside," he orders, firm but just.

Albus is about to protest but his father's look silences him, and he goes to stand in the hallway.

Harry turns to James.

"Where is it, James?"

"In Lily's room, under her bed." He says this almost too quietly for Harry to hear, even though there is no longer any risk of Albus finding out.

"Okay, go and get it."

James leaves the room at a run, past Albus who is now dutifully cleaning spilt pumpkin juice off the floor. Harry sighs. He's not good at this; he usually leaves the reprimanding to Ginny. She manages to do it without appearing like a controlling vulture, something he'd quite like to achieve. He wishes Teddy was here, the boys love him, they'd listen to him without a shadow of a doubt. They look up to Teddy, and he's never squabbled with them, adding credibility to their image of him as a big brother.

When James returns, the toy clutched tightly in his hands, Harry calls Albus over.

"James, give me the dragon. Now, remember what mum said when she let you have it back – "

Forgetting their animosity towards each other for the moment, the brothers snigger. Lily stealing it isn't exactly the same as their mother letting them have it. Harry allows a small smile to find its way onto his face, and then continues.

"– she said you have to share – "

"That's what I said!"

"– you have to share and be careful, alright?" Harry makes it to the end of his sentence without another interruption from Albus.

The boys nod, sensing their father is about to be lenient, more lenient than their mother would allow.

Harry surveys them carefully.

"As it's Christmas – "

"– was Christmas," James corrects unhelpfully.

"Yes, thank you. Was Christmas, I want you to let Al play too, okay James? And Al, no more fighting. Uncle Charlie gave it to James so he gets to say when it's time to put it away, alright? Besides, you've got those gloves he got you." Harry finishes with a smile at his youngest son.

"Yes, Dad," the boys chant, smiles on both faces.

"Here you go," Harry hands the dragon back to James and both boys race to leave the room.

Harry smiles, satisfied, and reverts his attention to the tree, which is still flashing red and gold. Here's hoping they behave and stay out of further trouble.

Later that evening, the children have been allowed to stay up with their parents. Ron and Hermione have brought Rose and Hugo, Andromeda has dropped by with Teddy ("Only for a while," she insists, although Harry knows she will stay to welcome in the new year with her grandson and his godfather) and George and Angelina have joined in the celebrations, letting their children loose with the others. Neville also found time to come; he couldn't really refuse the Potters' invitation.

At five to midnight, Ginny gathers up all the kids and they stand with their parents and the other adults in the garden, waiting for George and Ron to set off their fireworks.

"Good thing there hasn't been more snow," Ron comments. "When we tried to get a delivery to the Finnigans' last week, we couldn't get through to the house."

"Only 'cause Ron here forgot he owned a wand," George rolls his eyes as Hermione and Harry laugh outright.

"'Course," Ron continues, "the kids were pretty miffed they didn't get their white Christmas."

"Yeah, so were mine. But they can have a white Easter instead, right?" Harry says to him.

Ron agrees and laughs. "C'mon," he calls to George and disappears down the garden.

Harry feels a tug on his sleeve. Looking down he sees a bleary-eyed Lily.

"Daddy, I'm sleepy."

He picks her up and she buries her head in his chest.

"I know, sweetie. A few more minutes and I'll take you inside."

He peers down at his old watch: it is less than one minute to. He looks around for his wife and, spotting her speaking to Neville, makes his way over.

"Ready?"

They both nod.

"Five, four – " Those gathered in the Potters' back garden begin counting down.

"– THREE, TWO – "

He sees Hermione smiling down at Hugo, who appears to have learnt his numbers and is shouting louder than any of them.

"One."

The sky explodes, courtesy of Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes.

Harry looks down at his daughter but she is already asleep. Neville claps him on the back as he takes a swig from a bottle of Firewhiskey.

"Happy New Year, mate!"

And it is. James and Albus seem to be getting along again; Teddy has matched his hair colour to that of the sky for their amusement. The rest of the kids are watching the display with eyes wide open.

"Not bad, eh?" Ron has returned, gazing up with satisfaction.

Harry Potter grins as he waves off another year that he has survived and welcomes in one he hopes will be easier than the last. A part of him knows, though, that is merely wishful thinking.

happy new year :D