Thanks again for all of the support from everyone :) If you like, from now on you can make suggestions for little things that Harry can do with his family. I may not take them, but it would be great to hear your ideas.

Disclaimer: I do not own the amazing Potterverse.

Eighteen Months

Harry was eighteen months old. He was just learning to walk, and could be found toddling around on his two feet. His parents were exceptionally proud of him.

One week in early January, Lily left Harry with James, as she was going on a shopping trip with some old friends from Hogwarts. Lily was trying not to show her concern, reminding herself that James was Harry's parent too – but it was hard to keep in her anxiety. Especially as it was the weekend, and Sirius and Remus could pop in at any time. Of course she trusted those two – they were Harry's godparents, after all – but nevertheless, it was an anxious Lily who flooed away, leaving her son with her husband, happily blowing bubbles in the living room.

James blew a bubble on the end of his wand, using a special spell that his father had always done with him. He then tapped the bubble with the tip of the wand, and muttered a spell under his breath. The bubble turned bright pink. Harry giggled, and tried to touch the bubble. It popped at his grasp, and Harry was staring at blank space. He clapped his hands, and babbled. James grinned, and blew another bubble, blue this time.

Just then, there was a commotion in the kitchen. Sirius and Remus sauntered around the corner, grinning. "Let yourself in, why don't you?" grinned James, before greeting his two friends.

"Where's Lily?" asked Sirius.

"Shopping," said James with a grimace. "It's just Harry and I today."

"How are you, Harry?" asked Remus, picking up his godson. "Enjoying your father son time?"

"We've come to relieve you of the boredom of your father," grinned Sirius, patting Harry on the head. Harry giggled, and tried to pull Sirius' nose. Sirius leaned back, with a horrified expression. "You've taken my nose! Where did you put it?" He dramatically looked around him, searching for his nose. Harry, who knew the trick well, patted Sirius on the face and forehead. "That's better," said Sirius, acting relieved.

"Do you two want a drink?" asked James, going into the kitchen.

"Butterbeer, if you have it," called Sirius.

"Has Harry spoken yet?" asked Remus, bouncing the small child.

"No, but he babbles like anything," said James from the kitchen. "He only just started walking, you know. I don't think it's likely that he's going to start talking any time soon. Though Lily has her hopes up. She is determined that he talks before the Weasely child, Ronald." He came out, carrying three full glasses of butterbeer and placing them on the small coffee table.

Remus sat down with Harry on the sofa, and proceeded to tickle Harry's feet, which set the toddler off giggling. Sirius thoughtfully took a sip of butterbeer. "What age do they generally start talking?" he said, seriously.

"Eighteen months or so," said James. "But Harry is only just there anyway. There's no need to worry. Yet."

"I would start worrying," said Sirius.

"He'll be fine," Remus reassured James, who was starting to look worried.

"We could teach him," said Sirius thoughtfully.

"I don't think that that's possible." James looked downcast

"We can try," Sirius said. "Say da-da, Harry."

"You can do it! Da-da!" James waved his arms around.

Harry stared at his two godfathers, confused. "How about Si-ri-us?" said Sirius. "Say Si-ri-us, Harry."

"I think he should learn his fathers' name before his godfathers name, Sirius," said James.

"I don't know. He'll look up to me way more than you."

"No he won't! I'm the father! The father!"

"No one actually respects their father more than their godfather."

"Shut up, you two," said Remus, before they started to argue. "Say Da-da, Harry."

Harry looked solemnly at the three marauders. Then he opened his mouth. "Bro-om," he said solemnly. Then he put his fingers in his mouth and giggled, wiggling on Remus' lap.

The three friends stared at each other. "Did... did he just say what I though he said?" asked James.

"He can't have. He's too young for Quidditch." Remus stared at the small boy, who seemed to know exactly what they were talking about, for he was smiling widely.

"My broom I gave him for Christmas seemed to have done the trick!" cried Sirius.

"My son will be the best Quidditch player of the century!" James leaped to his feet and gave a mighty cheer.

"Boom! Boom! Boom!" yelled Harry, bouncing up and down on Remus' lap.

"He wants a ride on his broom!" cried James. "Where did Lily put it?"

Lily had left it underneath James', on the broom rack. Remus carefully put Harry on it, and strapped him on. Then Harry was off, flying around the house with the marauders cheering on, chasing him through the rooms.

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Lily came home to a quiet and messy house. James, Sirius, and Remus were all sitting on the sofa in the living room, reading a story to Harry. It was his favourite, Babbity Rabbity and the Golden Shoe. It was Remus' Christmas present to Harry, and the Potters had read it so many times that they knew it off by heart.

Lily paused in the doorway of the Living Room, and leaned against the wall, watching the men and the baby. It was a short while before they noticed her presence, and when they did, James, Sirius and Remus clumsily stood up. "Sorry about the mess," said Remus bashfully. James tried to straighten the cushions on the sofa.

"Oh, never mind that," said Lily, who was cursing herself for worrying about Harry while she was out. "Stay for tea?"

"Love to," said Sirius.

"Harry spoke, Lily," said James.

Lily nearly dropped her shopping. "What did he say?"

"Broom."

"Broom. He said... broom?"

"Your son is going to be a fantastic Quidditch player!" said Sirius, lifting the protesting Harry in the air.

Lily took Harry from Sirius, and kissed him on the head. "There's my good boy," she whispered to him. Harry laid his head on her shoulder and squeezed his eyes shut.

Lily looked up at them. "You three are on cooking duty," she said. "I'm going to put this one to bed. You plain wore him out."

The three marauders nodded sheepishly, and left for the kitchen, where they would attempt to cook steak and instead burn it. So the four had singed steak by candlelight, with butterbeer and cold potatoes. Harry was fast asleep in his cot.

Lily was content. While she had a wonderful day at Diagon Alley, somehow a candlelight supper with good friends was far more satisfying. And Harry had beat that Ronald Weasely at something. She couldn't wait to tell Molly.