The Last Gaunt:Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone [Book 1]

Prologue

Third Person POV

                               In a secluded Scottish glen, where the mist curled around ancient trees like secretive fingers, the Cunningham family enjoyed an evening of rare tranquility. It was a night like any other, yet for Ewan and Alice Cunningham, it was a precious pause from their demanding lives. Ewan Cunningham, one of Scotland's most esteemed Aurors, had just returned from a grueling day at the Ministry of Magic. His husky frame, built from years of physical training and fieldwork, contrasted with his soft, brown hair that was beginning to show traces of grey at the temples. His brown eyes, though often marked by a look of seriousness, softened in the warm glow of the fireplace. Freckles dotted his nose and cheeks, a charming reminder of his family's legacy—the Sallows—known for their distinctive smiles. Tonight, Ewan's broad shoulders and muscular build were relaxed as he sank into the well-worn armchair by the fire. In his arms, he cradled his one-year-old son, Kieran, who was babbling contentedly. The baby's bright eyes sparkled with innocent delight, a stark contrast to the world outside. Alice Cunningham, once a celebrated Defense Against the Dark Arts professor at Hogwarts, now devoted herself to their quiet life in the countryside. Her petite frame was complemented by her striking black hair, which fell in soft waves around her shoulders. Her blue eyes, sharp and observant, held a kindness that balanced her beautiful, delicate appearance. She turned from the stove, a faint smile on her lips as she caught sight of her husband and son.                                                          "Ewan, how was your day?" Alice asked, her voice warm and soothing amidst the comforting crackle of the fire. Ewan sighed deeply, the weariness evident in his posture.

                                                            "Busy, as always. The Ministry's been abuzz with rumors. Nothing we can pin down yet, just whispers." Alice's brow furrowed slightly as she placed a pot of steaming stew on the table.
                                                            "Not more talk about those dark forces you mentioned last week?" Ewan shook his head, trying to banish the unease from his expression. "Aye, but it's best not to trouble you with it tonight. Look at Kieran—he's practically glowing." Alice's gaze softened as she watched their son's tiny fingers reach towards the glowing embers.
                                                          "He's certainly got your energy. Did you notice he's started mimicking us?" Kieran's delighted coos seemed to affirm her words, and Ewan allowed himself a rare smile. "He's a clever little chap. I just hope he doesn't inherit all of my less desirable traits."
                                                          "Oh, I'm sure he'll be a wonderful blend of us both," Alice said, leaning over to give Kieran a gentle kiss on the forehead. "Though I do hope he gets your ability to stay calm under pressure."

                         The old grandfather clock struck eight, its chimes resonating through the cozy cottage. Outside, the leaves rustled softly in the evening breeze, and the distant hoot of an owl punctuated the stillness. Inside, the cottage was a sanctuary of warmth and comfort, filled with the delicious aroma of Alice's cooking. Alice set the final dish on the table, Ewan's gaze grew distant. His thoughts were pulled back to the troubling reports he had heard at work. Alice noticed the shift in his demeanor and placed a comforting hand on his arm.
                                                             "You're still thinking about it, aren't you?" she asked gently. Ewan nodded, though he tried to hide his concern.
                                                               "Just a bit. But let's not let it spoil our evening. We have a rare peace tonight, and I intend to savor it." 

                 The following morning, the quiet of the glen was disrupted by an urgent knock on the door. Ewan, still in his dressing gown, answered it to find a breathless messenger standing on the doorstep.
                                                                  "Ewan Cunningham?" the messenger panted. "I've been sent to find you. Have you heard the news?" Alice, carrying Kieran, looked up with a mix of curiosity and concern.
                                                                   "What's happened?" she asked. The messenger's face broke into a relieved smile.
                                                                      "It's incredible! He Who Must Not Be Named—Voldemort—has been defeated! The news is everywhere. The Boy Who Lived, Harry Potter, just a year old, was the one who did it!"Alice's eyes widened in shock.
                                                                     "Harry Potter? The baby?" The messenger nodded vigorously.

                                                                  "Yes! It seems that Voldemort was vanquished by the child's very presence. The entire wizarding world is in jubilation. We're safe now."

                        Ewan and Alice exchanged stunned glances, their relief palpable. For months, fear had cast a long shadow over their lives, and now, suddenly, it was gone. The weight of the dark times had lifted, and the future looked bright again. Alice clutched Kieran a little tighter, her voice trembling with emotion.
                                                                "We're safe, Ewan. We can finally breathe easy." Ewan nodded, a smile spreading across his face. His charming smile, a hallmark of the Sallows family, now seemed to shine with a newfound light.
                                                               "Aye, it's truly a new beginning. Let's make the most of it."

As the sun rose over the Scottish hills, the Cunningham family embraced the dawn of a new era, their hearts lightened by the ne ws that had come to them in the early hours. The peace of their home, so carefully nurtured, was now a symbol of the hope and renewal sweeping across the magical world. For the Cunninghams, it was a moment to cherish, knowing that the storm had passed and a brighter future awaited.