To coin a phrase from a former Princess, there are three people in my marriage. Me, my lovely wife, and a fictional schoolboy wizard with a lightning bolt scar on his head. A Mr Harry James Potter. I even know his middle name. He is a constant presence in my home, a menacing bespectacled spectre in my day to day life.
The teenagers listen to The Smiths while decrying the popular kids, they love The Rocky Horror Picture Show and write poetry. In film terms, these are the kind of navel-gazing people who I hate, and find frustrating beyond belief. Yet here, the ease at which they interact, the dialogue at their disposal and even the music they listen to all works in harmony.