Hannah grabbed a throw blanket that was folded over the side of the couch--her mother loved blankets and had them everywhere--and spread it over her and Neville before hitting play on the movie. Ignoring completely any nervousness from him, she cuddled up against him. Her head rested back on his shoulder, and she reached under the blanket to find one of his hands, holding it again. She sighed. Being here on the couch like this made her think less about how her mother had picked every single thing in this room: her mother was everywhere, and yet she wasn't here, something that never failed to break Hannah's heart.
"Maybe ten?" Hannah said, a bit sheepishly, scratching her cheek with her other hand. "I love fairy tales, but this one is probably my favorite. Though I love Sleeping Beauty. I don't like Cinderella, the stepmother is just so mean. She's like, like--a Carrow!"