>Harry and Dracaena sitting at the fire place holding hands, drinking tea. They are watching American Werewolf in London Dracaena: “Oh, for Merlin’s sake, what is happening to him?!” Harry: “He’s turning into a werewolf.” Dracaena: “OBVIOUSLY, I CAN SEE THAT! >She grips his hand tighter as the man’s bones begin to crack and elongate Dracaena: “But how in the bloody hell are they doing that?!” Harry: “Doing what?” Dracaena: “THAT! His bloody face is splitting apart! His hands are turning into paws! Muggles can’t do that, they don’t even know werewolves are real Potter!” Harry: “It’s a practical effect.” Dracaena: “… I beg your pardon?” Harry: “Practical effects. Makeup, prosthetics, mechanical models, that sort of thing.” Dracaena: “You expect me to believe a Muggle can make a man’s skull change shape with makeup?!” Harry: “Well, yes. But also no.” Dracaena: “Then HOW?!” Harry: “I dunno, love. Ask the bloke who made it.” >The transformation becomes more grotesque. Dracaena instinctively buries her face against Harry’s shoulder, peeking through her fingers. Dracaena: “This is absolutely revolting. Positively barbaric. Who on earth would willingly watch this sort of thing?!” Harry: “You wanted to watch it.” Dracaena: “I wanted to understand Muggle cinema! I didn’t ask for a bloody werewolf anatomy lesson!” Harry: “You said you wanted to see a horror film.” Dracaena: “I was under the impression the horror would be metaphorical!” Dracaena: “Don’t you dare laugh at me, Potter.” Harry: “Wouldn’t dream of it.” >She settles against him again, still holding his hand. The werewolf’s transformation finally ends. For a little while, they watch in silence. Dracona: “Hey… Do you think we’ll be good parents?” Harry: “I think we’ll be alright.”