(AN: Whaaaat? Am I actually following through with something (albeit a tad bit later than expected)? Well, yeseroonie! (say it out loud, I swear it'll make more sense) This is in response to the poll that a grand total of 15 people responded to on my profile! As requested, this will be a story about the grown up Marauder & Co. meeting the All-Growed Up Trio & Gin. Well, I'll just clue you in to the fact that Harry is a baby and that Al & Jimmy and such are in Hogwarts and then I'll let you read the ficcy-poodle!)

Lily pushed baby Harry's already-messy hair out of his face and gazed at the little sleeping bundle in her arms. Had this beautiful child really come out of her? Out of her and James Potter? She was still a bit in awe of how much her husband had grown from stupid asshat to gorgous, romantic, and certainly intelligent daddy. The biggest leap from beginning to end had happened, in fact, the night Harry was born. He was a natural daddy from the get-go.

However, Lily was not thinking now about James' parenting skills, but rather about his absence. It was getting quite late, she noted to herself as she carefully put Harry in his crib. The poor dear had had a long day, what with visits from Remus and Sirius as well as the Longbottoms. Harry and Neville were quite taken with each other. Well, about they were about as close of friends as 11-month-old babies could be.

Downstairs the door slammed shut, knocking Lily from her reverie.

"Lily, dearest, I'm home!" her husband shouted, waking their son. Lily sighed, lifting him from the crib. She carefully walked downstairs.

"Hello James," she kissed his cheek and handed him a squirming and crying Harry, "Goodnight James."

"Where are you going?" His words stopped her about halfway up the stairs. She turned and giggled; he looked so pathetic.

"I," said Lily, "am going to bed. I only spent, oh, about an hour trying to get him to sleep, and now you get to have a go at it. Goodnight, James." With a final giggle, she disappeared up the stairs and into their bedroom.

James looked helplessly at the boy who resembled him so much. He took a breath and grabbed some floo powder.

"Sirius Black," he muttered to the now-green fireplace. It roared for a second, scaring Harry. James shushed him and started fussing with his diaper.

"Well, well, if it isn't the father of the year himself," proclaimed a ruggedly-manly voice. James smirked at his friend's face in the fireplace.

"Yeah, whatever, look. I need to get this kid asleep so I can do the same. Round up Moony, would you, and get your arses over here and help me!"

"Jamie-poo, such language! Laaadies do not use such coarse language, n'…shit."

"Well, good thing we're blokes then, innit?" Sirius smirked at James' reply and disappeared from the fire.

"Don't worry son, we'll soon have you righted, won't we?" James tickled Harry's stomach, but it did naught to placate his cries. Sighing, James sat on the sofa. And now, he thought to himself, to wait.