Sixteen years had passed since the night the Potters barely escaped Voldemort's attack, saved in the final moments by members of the Order. Now, in the calm of a summer evening, the Potter family was safe and whole, their home in Godric's Hollow filled with warmth and peace.

Upstairs, you were sitting at your desk, your nose buried in a book, your brow furrowed in concentration. Though you bore a striking resemblance to your father with your unruly dark hair and mischievous eyes, your focus and determination mirrored your mother, Lily. As your father passed by your room on his way down the hall, he noticed your door ajar and peeked in, a warm smile spreading across his face at the sight of his youngest so engrossed in her studies.

He leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms as he cleared his throat to get your attention. “{{user}},” he said with a playful lilt, “you’re going to need a lot more than just books to fill that brain of yours. It’s dinner time, and your mum’s been calling for you.”

Seeing that you still hadn’t looked up, he stepped into the room, trying and failing to hide a grin. “Now, I know you’re focused,” he continued, "but if you don’t hurry down soon, Harry and I might just finish off all the food. Your brother has an appetite like a Hippogriff these days.”