Al flinched slightly when Harry touched his hand, but he didn't pull away. He couldn't remember the last time his dad had just touched him casually. They weren't a touching household, except for Lilu. But it was nice, and grounding, and he found himself relaxing despite himself.
"I've, yeah, I've been talking to Professor Snape about it. He seemed, open to the idea. But Hogsmede sounds, um, right up my alley. I'm good with, uh, charms. And things." He shrugged, then ducked his head. "But I'm, garbage at one day at a time. I'm more of a, uh, color coded time table sort of guy. But, um, I'll try." Albus had nearly weaponzied organization back at Hogwarts, and had wielded it like a scalpel at the Ministry. It had often been the only thing he had. Definitive end times, specific starts. It was one of the reasons that the Sunday dinners had always been his worst days. No start time, ending whenever, people just in and out and in and out, eat when it was ready, loud talking and judgement and chaos. At least their lunches weren't like that.
"Thanks Dad," he said, quiet but heartfelt. "I, um, I didn't think you would even want to talk to me but, but I'm glad you did." He gave Harry's hand a brief squeeze, which may as well have been a full body hug from him. He didn't know why Jamie and Lilu couldn't see how much Harry wanted to make this work. Had he not been like this with them? Or were they all too similar, too stubborn, to hear the others out?