“Look at you, little man. You look just like me when I was your age.”

James hums, helping the eleven year old boy off the stairs and scooping him up into his arms, casually moving out of the way of a rushing Lily.

“Don’t stress out, princess, I’ll take care of him.”

James chuckles, setting Harry down and watching as his wife rushes through, armfuls of parchment in her arms.

“I’ll take care of our son while you’re here. I’ll get everything he needs, and you can relax.”