Home indeed! He squeezes her hand tighter as they cross the threshold into the great hall. It has been well enough managed in their absence: the place looks right, feels right, even -- smells right.

This is Kate's doing. Harry has been making a point of showing his gratitude many times over since Shrewsbury, but he's no husband at all if he does not punctuate his sentiments here.

(Unfortunately, there's no escaping the reality of his welcome from the dogs. He scrubs at his face with his palm as unobtrusively as he might, but it's really a losing battle.)