Prompt at bottom.

A/N: I feel like if James and Lily survived, they would have so many children. This is if Voldemort was destroyed before he killed the Potters, or if NL was the BWL. Take your fancy. Peter was still a traitor to them…

Let's pretend it's the Easter Holidays or something—plausible, as Easter Sunday was 7th April in 1996…

Harry: 16 (Gryffindor), Holly: 14 (Gryffindor), Rowell: 11 (Slytherin), Mia: 6 (would grow up to be in Gryffindor, like her idol). Selene: 13 (Slytherin).

I headcanon Indian!James, so all of his children are half Indian because of this

Crap Crap quick Mpreg warning, I was not expecting it and neither will you, believe me…

Word Count: 1681

happy birthday to you (my last goodbye)

"Harry! Harry, wake up!"

Blinking open green eyes, Harry looks up to see his youngest sister hovering over his head, her auburn hair dangling in his face and her light brown hands holding something that he couldn't quite see. "What do you want, Brat?" he asks, grinning up at her to show that he is joking.

She plonks his glasses onto his face almost violently, saying, "It's Daddy's birthday, and you know that he gets antsy if everyone isn't celebrating it at eight on the dot. Holly sent me to go get you, as Mummy and Rowell are busy preparing the room with the last balloons before Daddy gets out of bed. Come on, Harry."

She runs out of the room, leaving Harry slightly dazed as he stares out after her. He glances at his watch. "Mia! Why did you wait until five minutes before eight to tell me?"

He does not know if Mia heard him, but he does know that if he does not get downstairs before his dad does then he is likely to ruin the plans of the whole day. He creeps across the landing, races down the stairs, and enters the living room in time to hear his mum say, "That's the last of the preparations."

Harry stares at his mum, her red hair tied back into a braid as she pressed a hand to her forehead. "I'm sorry I did not get up in time to help, Mum." He looks around the room, at the balloons tied together that will sing 'Happy Birthday' when his dad walked in and the confetti cannons that will go off at the same time. "It looks good, though."

"Nonsense, Harry. You had a late night distracting your dad from the bottom of the house. Your part in this was just as valuable as ours."

Harry could not reply to that, as his dad walks into the room, causing the cannons to go off and the balloons to start singing. "Happy birthday, Dad!" Harry says along with his siblings, whilst his mum goes over to him and kisses his cheeks

"You did all this for me?" he asks, his grin wide and voice shocked as if they didn't do it every year.

"No. We did it for Uncle Padfoot," Holly says, her voice sounding serious.

Their dad rolls his eyes at her. "Come here, Cheeky."

Holly rushes over to him, throwing her arms around him dramatically. "I'm so sorry, Dad. How will you ever forgive me?"

"Well…" He appears to be thinking very carefully about his decision. "If you help me prank Padfoot when he comes around, I'll forgive you."

"Okay!"

Rowell coughs from where he is sitting, probably to hide the laughter that Harry can see in his hazel eyes. His younger brother fiddles with the buttons on his green pyjama top, saying, "Is anyone ready for breakfast?"

Harry sits across from his mum at the table, who gives him a wink over her slice of toast. "Thanks for cooking such an amazing meal, Harry," his dad says. "It's absolutely gorgeous, just like your mum."

Mia giggles as their mum rolls her eyes. "Less talking and more eating, Mister," she says, mockingly wagging her finger at him.

Harry smiles into his cup of tea as his dad picks up his toast and bobs it along in the air like it is a boat. "James Fleamont Potter," his mum replies, her voice maintaining a stern tone to it despite the smile making its way to her lips, "we do not play with our food at the dinner table." She sighs, turning to Rowell, who sat next to her. "Merlin, sometimes it's like he is the biggest baby of them all."

"Who's the biggest baby? Prongs?" Sirius' head pops through the door to the kitchen, followed by Remus and their daughter, Selene. "Are you only just finding that—ooh, a toast boat!"

"I find myself corrected," Harry's mum says. "It appears that Sirius is the biggest baby of them all."

"Uncle Padfoot!" Mia exclaims, jumping out of her chair and throwing herself into Sirius' arms. "It's good to see you!"

Selene sits next to Harry at the table, rolling her pale grey eyes as Sirius begins to swing Mia around, her hazel eyes wide with excitement as her light brown legs threaten to hit people in the head and her glasses attempted to fly off her face. "My father is mad," Selene tells the people on the table, her pale hands crossed in her lap.

"Hear, hear," Remus says, smiling at his daughter.

"Are you two talking about me again?" Sirius asks, putting Mia down on the ground and jumping over to Remus like an excitable puppy. "You just can't stop, can you?"

He throws his arms around Remus' shoulders as he says that. "Of course not, my love."

They all crowd around their dad as he opens his presents, the Potter children finally in clothes. Harry sat in front of his mum, Mia sitting in his lap. He mindlessly braids her hair as their dad opens a present containing a broomstick. "A Nimbus 2005! Wow, Lily, thank you."

"I got it so that maybe, with a faster broom, you can finally beat Harry in a race."

Still holding the broom, he sends their mum a hurt look, as Harry ties a bow at the end of Mia's braid. She climbs off his lap, and kneels at his side, getting bits of his hair to braid. "Open my present next!" Sirius demands, handing a box to their dad.

After the initial shock of a bunch of rubber snakes jumping out of the box (Selene's grin is a little too smug to have no involvement in this), their dad pulls out a picture frame. "Thanks, Mate, but if I wanted a picture of you I just have to look at, oh, the other sixteen I have got."

"This one's special! It's got something new in it."

He stares at it for a few moments before his hazel eyes widen. "Are… are you two expecting another baby?"

He hands their mum the photo, and Harry lifts Mia up onto his shoulders so she can look at it. "Look, Harry!" she says, so Harry lifts up his head to glance at the picture.

Sirius is at the front, waving at everyone looking at him. The background was a light grey, but if one looked hard enough they could see Remus in the background waving around a baby's bib.

"Congratulations, Uncle Sirius, Uncle Remus," Harry says, looking up to find the two of them in a pile with his dad hugging them both.

"Thanks, Biggest Fawn," Sirius calls out from beneath the pile.

"Oh, stuff it," Harry hears his mum mutter before she walks over to the pile and joins it.

Soon there are a bunch of laughing Potters crowding around the expecting couple, with Selene finding her way in between her fathers.

After Harry's dad finishes opening his presents, they go into the garden to play a game of Quidditch. Remus—the one they discover to be carrying the baby this time—and Mia sit on the side of pitch, sipping on pumpkin juice as they watch the others play. With only seven players, they decide to skip the Beaters and Seekers, instead having a time limit of an hour and two Chasers and one Keeper per team (or three Chasers, depending on what team Lily and Selene—who both hate Quidditch—are on). It splits evenly so that there is an equal amount of skill on each team: Sirius, Lily, Selene and Rowell versus Holly, Harry and James. Whilst the other team have more Chasers, Harry and James have been practicing together since Harry was old enough to fly a real broom, and soon they are ahead despite Sirius' excellent Keeping skills. An hour later, they fly down to the ground, Mia rushing to hug Harry, declaring that he is the best Chaser, to their dad's amusement. "What about me, Mia?" he asks, his voice sounding hurt but a smile in his eyes.

Mia shrugs. "You're not Harry's level. He's really fast, and you're a bit slow."

"Race me, Harry," their dad begs, picking up his broom again with his brown hands. "We'll show her who's best."

"You're on, Old Man," Harry replies, and they push off into the air.

"I still think I should have won," Harry's dad says whilst pouting an hour after Harry won the race.

"I told you Harry is better!" Mia declares, pushing the paper plate with an unfinished slice of pizza on away from her.

"You should have just listened to her, instead of trying to race him, Old Friend," Sirius says, shaking his head slowly. "Girls are very smart."

Selene nods, her light-brown hair falling into her face slightly, as Holly bangs her fist onto the table approvingly. Harry's mum must have slipped out at some point to get the cake, or she would be agreeing too. Rowell, ever loyal to his mum, says, "Mum would agree too."

Then the light goes out, and the candles on the cake are the only light source that there is. Mia grabs Harry's hand, and he squeezes it reassuringly before they begin to sing.

"Happy Birthday to you.

Happy Birthday to you.

Happy Birthday dear—" and there a variety of names are called: Harry's personal favourite being Sirius', who called out 'Shithead' (which Mia must have found just as amusing as he did, because she giggled loudly, even when Remus hit his husband on the arm).

"Happy Birthday to you."

His dad blows out the candles, and the world goes dark.

Harry blinks open his eyes, tears streaming down his light brown skin. He clutches the box of Daydream Charms in one hand, the feeling of Mia's hand in his still in the other, wanting the life he could never have. Now he has to play hero in the plan that Albus Dumbledore has laid out for him.

Before that, however, he would have to tell the twins that their products are rather realistic...

Task: Assignment Two: Performing Arts Task 3: Write a popular trope (all just a dream)

Is this sad enough? I don't think it is.

~Buttercat