This was prompted by one of the early clips in a video on YouTube about babies laughing hysterically at dogs.
This one-shot takes place in early-mid December the year Harry was born. The Potters are in hiding, but not yet under the Fidelius. It's early days, so James hasn't gotten cabin fever yet.
I owneth not Harry Potter.
Lily sighed as she sealed the letter to Dumbledore and dropped it onto the portkey that would take it directly to the magically guarded safe in the Hogwarts Headmaster's office. They had officially been in hiding for four and a half months and although Christmas was coming soon their isolated situation left her having difficulty finding any holiday cheer.
The portkey was sent off with a muttered "sieve, section, cork" and Lily sat back in her chair as she contemplated the small stack of stationary and Christmas cards on her writing desk. (An astonishingly beautiful rosewood antique with silver and mother-of-pearl inlay that James had said used to belong to his Great Aunt Mordag.)
She really wasn't in the mood. What was the point in celebrating Christmas while they were hiding? Their only visitors were Sirius, Peter, and occasionally Remus, whenever he wasn't on a mission for the Order out in the wild with some feral werewolf pack. It seemed like too much trouble to bother with putting on a festive façade when so much was on the line.
Her morose thoughts were broken by squeals of laughter and an accompanying clatter from down stairs, roused to curiosity, Lily descended the staircase, peeking around the corner of the hall into the living room.
James was on his back in the middle of the carpet, a rolled up dishtowel in one hand (Lily absently noted that it was one from the set that Petunia had sent them for a wedding present.) Minnaloushe was perched on the back of the sofa, yellow eyes wide as she tracked the movement of the dishtowel or, more likely, the large object attached to the other end.
Padfoot had his teeth clenched around the gaudy thing, trying to dig his paws in to prevent himself from following the towel as James pulled his hand up towards his shoulder before releasing. Despite Padfoot's size, James seemed to be winning, repeatedly pulling his friend back and forth across the carpet.
Harry, sitting on the floor beside James' head, wearing only a nappy, was laughing with joy each time Sirius came close, the large black nose poking him in the stomach. James was looking straight up at the ceiling, a wide grin on his face as he allowed Padfoot to back up before yanking him forward again.
Harry gurgled another laugh and Lily found herself breaking into a smile despite her sour mood. The joyful content on her husband's face and the glee in her son's laughter was hardly conducive to self-pity. She took a moment to consider and realized with a pang that it had been a long time since she had seen James so relaxed. Not since the end of sixth year at least.
A smile still lingering on her lips, Lily slipped back up to the study, determined to send out the best Christmas letters and cards ever. She dropped into her chair and pulled out a piece of the custom-made Muggle stationary.
She'd start with Alice. They could exchange baby pictures and stupid-husband stories.
Just because they were in hiding, didn't mean that life didn't go on and they couldn't live it to the fullest.
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