"I’m fine," Harry mumbled, pressing his nose into James’ chest. He could do this. He wasn’t afraid to do this. He didn’t care who saw it as weakness. He was safe. His parents were here and he was safe. Being affectionate wasn't being weak. Being open with love and openly loved wasn't being weak. And being weak wasn't a weakness, wasn't some sort of failing. Nobody was weak all the time, just as no one was strong all the time. Everything depended on balance, and balance was different for each person. 