Harry Potter blinked and shifted quietly as he observed the chaos that had transformed his front lawn.
The grounds of the Potter Estate in Wochien had been entirely transformed with bright streamers of red and gold. Large fluttering kites filled the air, large sparking dragon kites roared and chased shimmering butterfly charmed twice the size of the reptiles.
A makeshift quidditch post had been set up on the western side of the large estate. The pitch, only half the size of a professional pitch, was equipped with miniature and charmed bludgers and an oversized quaffle.
At some point in the spectacle of paintbrushes bewitched to paint faces without the artist, or the exploding snap tournament on the far side of the patio, a bucking shelled pony managed to escape from its temporary pen.
Harry watched with faint amusement as a short wizard scrambled after to catch the strange magical creature (which seemed to enjoy his mother's hostas).
Harry flinched as two red haired twins his father seemed to be rather fond of, managed to set off a large explosion of raining fire and iridescent pixie dust. His father in question, turned from where he had been conversing with what looked like a ministry official to scold the twins. (Harry could see how his mouth quirked into a subtle grin at the two beaming boys.)
"Hello young man!" Harry cocked his head upwards to stare at the woman and man who looked at him with a slightly uncomfortable smile, "Do you happen to know a young Skylar by any chance?"
Harry blinked, and with one hand pointed to the right where the quidditch pitch had been set up.
"Oh thank you!" The woman squealed, glancing down at him in strange adoration, "You must be a friend of his! I'm Mrs. Belstha!"
Harry stared as the woman thrust her arm out for him to shake. He reached up and clamped his fingers around two of her thicker digits.
"I'm Harry," Harry stated without much inflection, "Skylar is my brother."
The two wizards looked stunned before they quickly hurried to hide it with another strained smile.
"Well! You must be so proud of your brother then! Anyways, off we go! Such a pleasure to meet you!" She chirped, taking her husband's arm and rushing off towards the shrieks and laughter of the mock quidditch match.
Harry sighed softly through his nose and shifted from where he was sitting on the porch. The white wooden slabs had recently been repainted to a bright white, already dinged with black scuff marks. Near Harry to his right, a spelled bowl clinked quietly with ice cubes filled nearly to the top of the lemonade. A platter of sandwiches sat nearby, a small snack considering the enormous cake set on the buffet table on the lawn.
Harry glanced out once he heard a muffled warning. A large bronze flamingo collided with the grown before rising with magical grinding movements.
"James Potter!" Lily- Harry's mother, shouted, "Did you charm my lawn flamingo!"
Harry's father, having seen the damage he had created started to hurry backwards with both arms raised in defense.
Harry watched as a black haired male- Skylar's godfather Sirius, threw one of the spare brooms at his father. Lily cursed playfully, chasing after him as James hurried onto the broom to escape his mother's wrath.
A few people cheered both of them on, giving whoops as James soared over the crowd standing on the broom shaft in a dramatic pose. Lily took quick work using a water charm to splash her husband down into a conjured mud pile just below.
Harry kicked his feet and looked at his fingers with slight longing.
The party was Skylar and Harry's eighth birthday. His father's old friend group of the 'Marauders' had gathered last night at the estate and started planning the event.
Skylar, the outgoing exciting child that he was, quickly proclaimed that he would have the best party anyone ever had. James and Sirius jumped at the opportunity and started plotting how exactly they could smuggle a Czech Griffin through the wards.
Harry didn't mind, he didn't care about most things. He understood that Skylar was very different from himself- Skylar seemed to glow in the press and the hoards of people always gushing with gifts or thanks for his victory over the Dark Lord. Harry, well Harry preferred to stay back and just watch, he didn't like people talking or asking him questions he didn't know the answers to.
(It wasn't that his parents purposefully ignored him, the fact was he was far too different for them to understand so any attempts for 'family bonding' generally left him anxious and trying to retreat to his room.)
His introversion was why Lily wasn't at all surprised when she approached the porch to get a spare towel that had been set out earlier.
"Hello Harry," She smiled, a slightly tired and sorrowful look as she settled next to him, "you don't want to play with you friends?" she asked quietly with a little smile.
Harry jerked his head and rested his chin on his knees, "They're Skylar's friends," He muttered under his breath.
Lily exhaled softly through her nose. "I'm sure that doesn't mean that they won't play with you?"
Harry glanced into his mother's eyes, they were darker and prettier than his own unsettling eyes. He didn't like his, they were too bright and made people twitch.
"Skylar is the seeker," Harry stated, shortly and curtly. Lily's cheek twitched and he could tell that she bit the inside anxiously.
"Well, maybe you could be the-"
"People will get angry if I'm the seeker and Skylar isn't."
Lily shifted.