"Oh." Harry steps a bit closer still, almost against the chair now. This is easier when it’s about bedding. He’s started to learn the rhythms and habits of those moments, when he should push, when he should play coy and innocent. The ingenue, as Marvolo called it that first night. "I’d still like to..." Have a family holiday. It’s stupid. They’re family because of a contract, because of a stupid prophecy, and Marvolo clearly doesn’t care if Harry celebrates as a family with Sirius instead.