The Potter house stood at the end of a narrow lane in Godric's Hollow, surrounded by tall trees and the scent of roses. On the outside, it looked like any other wizarding cottage — slanted roof, warm golden lights in the windows, and a garden where two owls and a half-vanished cat roamed freely. But inside, the house was filled with stories older than most books in the Hogwarts library.
Amelie Potter, known only as May to her family, sat curled up in an armchair by the window. Her bright blue eyes stared out at the garden, where her older brother was zooming around on a toy broomstick under their father's watchful eye.
She had inherited her mother's deep black hair and her delicate frame made her look even younger than her nine years.
"James!" Thomas Potter called out, shielding his eyes from the sun. "Lower, or you'll crash into the elm again!"
Eleven-year-old James, already tall and lean, laughed and dived just to show off. His hair was as black as May's, but always untamable — like his spirit.
In the kitchen, the smell of baking pumpkin bread drifted through the house. Joanne Potter smiled to herself, glancing occasionally out the window. She turned as May tiptoed in.
"Mum," May asked softly, "do you think I'll be able to fly like that one day?"
Joanne turned and knelt beside her.
"Of course you will," she said warmly. "And you'll do things James never dreamed of, May."
May wrinkled her nose.
"I don't want to be special," she whispered. "I just want to be… invisible."
Joanne tucked a loose strand of hair behind her daughter's ear and kissed her forehead.
"The world doesn't need another James, love. It needs a May. And one day, even you'll see why."
Outside, James hit a tree. Again. Thomas burst into laughter.
May smiled for the first time that day. She didn't know yet that peace like this wouldn't last much longer. That the world was shifting — quietly, slowly — toward something darker.
But for now, she was just May. Quiet. Small. Hidden in her brother's shadow.