He ran the tips of his fingertips over the plane of Potter's forehead, his cheeks, the indent of his chin, the rims of his glasses. Over his mouth. He stroked Potter's earlobes with the pads of his thumbs. With both hands, he followed the "L" of Potter neck as it became his shoulders, and then down his biceps to his forearms and wrists, only to capture Potter's hands in his own. "Are you real?" he whispered.
