[His mouth twitches, but he gets up, going to his bookshelf.]
I do, yes.
[It's in Saint Mungo's, clearly. Lily is fast asleep, her red hair damp from sweat, her face pale. James is in the bed with her, curled protectively around her-- and Harry, not more than a day old, is resting on his mother's chest, his cheek pressed against her. His eyes are wide open; he stares up at James, who looks down at his son. His expression is equal parts awed and adoring; carefully, he rubs a finger over Harry's cheek.]
no subject
I do, yes.
[It's in Saint Mungo's, clearly. Lily is fast asleep, her red hair damp from sweat, her face pale. James is in the bed with her, curled protectively around her-- and Harry, not more than a day old, is resting on his mother's chest, his cheek pressed against her. His eyes are wide open; he stares up at James, who looks down at his son. His expression is equal parts awed and adoring; carefully, he rubs a finger over Harry's cheek.]
There y'are.