The Space Between Failing and Falling • Snarry •

Chapter 10: Reason and Review

To see more, he says, "Your mother and I..." Severus clears his throat. "On Thursdays, without fail, we'd watch Top of the Pops. Your grandfather would come home from work with fish and chips, extra for me."

Severus shuts his mouth. He has said too much already.

Harry doesn't press him. "That sounds fun," he says.

Severus just nods.

"You like music, then? What's your favourite sort?"

"I do not have a favourite..." Severus traces circles on the fabric of the sofa. Has anyone ever cared enough to ask? He swallows. This ought not be so hard. "I like Black Animarum, the Alchemists, and Muggles such as David Bowie...and I listen to folk songs with my grandmother on her old gramophone. We tune in to the classical music hour on the Wizarding Wireless Network." Has he spoken for too long...? "And you?"

A timer dings. "Oh, hang on." Harry ducks through an archway. "Have you eaten?" he calls.

"Yes. At work."

Teddy gets up to stand before Severus. He sucks on a finger and peers up at him with large green eyes.

Deciding that it's time to start this one young, he says, "Repeat after me: 'Lumos'."

Teddy wraps his arms around Severus's shin and says, "Loo," before hiding his face in Severus's knee.

"Not quite—have another go."

The child giggles.

"It's a reasonable start. We'll try again soon."

He notices Harry grinning at him, as he leans against the arch with a pizza.

Severus shrugs his shoulders as if to say, 'What can you do?'

Harry sits, before charming a yellow bear with black ears to tap dance in loops around Teddy.

Harry sings along to the theme tune of whatever they're watching, like Lily used to do. They talk whilst Harry eats his pizza (his arm casually behind Severus's shoulders on the rear of the sofa—an innocent and commonplace touch), and Severus agrees to mind Ted so that Harry can have a shower before the infant's bedtime.

As Teddy is completely engrossed in creating chaos from a box of toys, Severus explores the living room.

In Harry's house, the clocks are all a bit wrong—ten minutes early or ten minutes late—and it's unbearable.

Amongst the dead plants, videos of Brum, Sesame Street, and Gladiator sit on the bookshelves. He runs his fingers along the spines of Harry's books. They lay higgledy-piggledy the correct way up, horizontal, or upside down. The only missing orientation is back to front. He spots The Sphinx Who Came to Tea, That's Not My Hippogriff..., and Mog the Muddled Kneazle.

He settles on Current Advances in Defensive Duelling Practice, and plans to sit and read where he can keep half an eye on the toddler. Before he can do this, however, the moving pictures on the mantelpiece catch his gaze.

There's the Golden Trio, raising up three pints in a pub.

Harry, various Weasleys, and an ugly cat glaring at a miniature Puffskein.

A younger Teddy sporting Cannons-orange hair in the arms of Harry. A Crup wears a pink sparkly collar and drools on his lap.

Harry, red-cheeked, Butterbeer in hand, kissing the hair of a witch. Her hair is long and white gold, her grin is very white, and she blinks slowly at the camera with big blue eyes.