The warm crackle of the fireplace filled the cozy living room of the Potter residence, casting flickering light on the walls as Harry darted across the room with boundless energy. His laughter rang out, bright and unrestrained, as he clutched a small plush dragon in his tiny hands.

Regulus sat on the sofa, his posture as precise as ever. His sharp grey eyes followed Harry’s movements, though his expression softened slightly when the boy tripped over his own feet and tumbled onto the rug, dissolving into giggles.

“You’re going to wear yourself out,” Regulus remarked, his smooth, refined voice carrying over the playful chaos. “Or worse, knock over the lamp again.” His gaze flickered briefly to the side, where the replacement lamp sat as a silent reminder of Harry’s last energetic escapade.

James, lounging in the armchair with his glasses perched slightly askew on his nose, grinned as he ruffled his perpetually messy black hair. “Oh, come on, Regulus. He’s four. If he isn’t knocking something over, he’s not living life properly.”

Harry jumped to his feet, clutching his dragon triumphantly. “Catch me, Daddy!” he challenged, his green eyes filled with mischief.

James leaned forward with a smirk that promised trouble. “Oh, you’re on, little stag.” He sprang up from the chair, lunging toward Harry with exaggerated slowness. Harry shrieked with laughter, darting toward the third member of their family, who was sitting cross-legged on the rug, watching the scene unfold with amusement.

Regulus pinched the bridge of his nose but couldn’t entirely hide the ghost of a smile that tugged at his lips. “James, do try not to encourage him. The last thing we need is another broken vase.”

“Relax, Regulus,” James shot back with a grin, his tone teasing but fond. “The vase survived last time. Mostly.”

“Mostly doesn’t inspire confidence,” Regulus muttered, leaning back against the sofa with an air of resignation.

Harry squealed as James finally caught him, scooping the boy up in his arms and spinning him around. “Got you, you little rascal!” James declared triumphantly, peppering Harry’s cheek with loud, exaggerated kisses. Harry giggled uncontrollably, squirming in his father’s arms.

“Daddy, no tickles!” Harry protested, still laughing.

“No tickles?” James feigned surprise. “What’s the point of catching you if I can’t tickle you?”

Regulus’s voice cut through the laughter, calm but pointed. “James, he’ll be impossible to settle down for bed if you rile him up any further.”

James turned, still holding Harry, and gave Regulus a cheeky grin. “Come on, Reg, where’s your sense of fun?”

“I left it somewhere around the same time you knocked over the chessboard last week,” Regulus retorted dryly. Despite his tone, there was a faint trace of warmth in his eyes as he watched the two of them.

Harry leaned toward Regulus, reaching out a hand. “Papa, help! Daddy’s a tickle monster!”

Regulus sighed, but the corner of his mouth twitched as if suppressing a smile. He reached out and plucked Harry from James’s grasp with effortless precision, settling the boy on his lap. “There,” he said coolly, brushing a stray lock of hair from Harry’s forehead. “You’re safe now.”

James crossed his arms, leaning casually against the arm of the sofa. “Traitor,” he said to Harry with mock indignation. “After all the times I’ve saved you from your spinach at dinner.”

Harry giggled, leaning his head against Regulus’s chest. “I like spinach, Daddy,” he declared, clearly enjoying the moment.

James clutched his chest dramatically, as if wounded. “Regulus, your influence is ruining him.”

Regulus raised an elegant brow, his voice dripping with dry amusement. “Yes, because teaching him to eat his vegetables is clearly a sign of corruption.”

As the laughter settled and the warmth of the room enveloped them, Harry shifted slightly in Regulus’s lap, his tiny fingers fiddling with the edge of his plush dragon. His hazel eyes sparkled with a mix of mischief and innocence as he turned to James.

“Daddy,” Harry began, his voice carrying the telltale lilt of a tattletale. “Mummy said a bad word today.”

Regulus raised an eyebrow, his sharp gaze shifting from Harry to the third member of their family, though the slight twitch at the corner of his mouth betrayed his amusement. “Did she now?” he said coolly, his tone perfectly measured. “And what exactly did Mummy say, Harry?”

James perked up, leaning against the back of the sofa with a wide grin. “Oh, this should be good. Go on, little stag. What did Mummy say?”

Harry scrunched his face, clearly trying to recall the moment with the gravitas of a very serious witness. “She said...” He paused dramatically, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “She said... 'bugger.'”

James burst into laughter, tipping his head back as he clutched his stomach. “Oh, no!” he exclaimed between chuckles. “Not 'bugger!' What a scandal!”

Regulus sighed, though his lips twitched upward in a rare smile. “James, do try to set a better example,” he said dryly, though his tone lacked any real reproach.

James grinned at Regulus, throwing his hands up in mock defense. “Don’t look at me. That’s all her. Clearly, she’s the troublemaker of the family.”

Harry nodded solemnly, his little face serious despite the playful tone around him. “Mummy’s the one who said it,” he affirmed, as if this was the final word on the matter.

Regulus looked at the third member of their family with raised brows and an expression that clearly read you’re on your own for this one. “Mummy, would you care to defend yourself?” he asked smoothly, a faint smirk tugging at his aristocratic features.

James, still grinning, leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “Careful, Mummy,” he teased. “Harry’s got a good memory. He’s basically a witness for the prosecution at this point.”

Harry giggled, clearly delighted to be the center of attention. “Papa, does Mummy have to go to time-out now?” he asked, turning his wide, innocent eyes on Regulus.

Regulus exhaled a soft laugh, shaking his head as he tucked Harry closer against his chest. “No, Harry, I think we’ll spare Mummy this time. But I’ll have a... talk with her later.”

James laughed harder at that, leaning back and shaking his head. “Oh, Regulus, you’re too kind. Personally, I think Mummy deserves a solid lecture.”