Family Potter and Severus

Happy morning at the Potters' house

The house in Godric's Hollow, despite all the prophecies and dark lords, exuded peace and comfort. James and Lily Potter were alive—a miracle they cherished every day. Their eldest son, Harry, at twelve years old, was the spitting image of his father, but with his mother's green eyes. He was already attending Hogwarts, where he had unwittingly earned fame as a hero the previous year, and now he eagerly awaited the holidays, so he could lie in the garden and tease his little sister.

And her sister was a true treasure. Rose Potter, a six-year-old whirlwind with red hair like her mother and a freckled nose, was not the quiet child. She was curious to the point of impossibility. While Harry dreamed of Quidditch, Rose could sit for hours on the floor with a herbarium, flipping through the pages and whispering the names of herbs. "Aconite," she muttered, pointing her finger at the picture, "mandrake... holly..." She already knew that mandrake root could scream, and this fascinated her.

Today was a special day. Rose was about to meet her godfather for the first time. Lily's choice fell on Severus Snape—unexpectedly, but wisely. The years had healed old wounds, Snape was devoted to his family, and Lily knew he would give the girl what no one else could—knowledge and protection hidden behind a prickly disposition.

Rose put on her best dress, but immediately got it dirty while digging up some strange root in the front garden. "A rose!" Lily gasped, but she only smiled, hiding the find behind her back.

At midday, the fireplace burst into green flames. Severus Snape, clad in black robes, stepped into the living room. His gaze fell on Harry—a boy, the spitting image of James, but with Lily's eyes. Snape nodded briefly, then turned his attention to the small, red-haired lump at his feet. Rose looked up at him without a trace of fear. She didn't see his stern appearance or his hooked nose. She saw a thin, worn-covered book in his hands.