Some nights, Lily wakes to find her bed cold, the other side empty despite the blankets thrown back and the lights out. She wanders from the bedroom to check on Harry, asleep in his pram in the little nursery, and muses silently at her husband's voice, hushed and urgent, in the living room down the hall. The two men might be laughing, covering their mouths so as not to wake the baby. They might be working, or reminiscing, or sometimes they just sit quietly in the firelight. She doesn't bother checking on him, and goes back to bed sure that he'll fill her in over coffee and pumpkin juice in the morning
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eeeeeeeee, this is lovely, thank you so much for filling! i love the domesticity of it despite the dangerous times, how you can see all of three of them are a part of this together, all in the same bed, and the different patterns how they wake and sleep and live around each other, and it just has such a feel of family, especially with raising harry, and god, the idea of it being their refuge, that's quite powerful, i adore it. <3 so, so sweet.
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