But he's never considered it to be anything more than a roof over his head and a place to sleep at night. Well, he's often referred to it as Hell on earth, but that hardly adds to the warm connotations that home should hold.
Leaving had been a relief. Sirius hadn't looked back, hadn't ever bothered to stop and wonder about the family he'd run away from.
Returning should have been painful. From Azkaban to a semblance of freedom to a new prison in the form of his childhood home. And he does hate it. Maybe a part of him even despises Albus for dragging him back here.
But it's different now.
He props up on is elbow, watching Remus who sleeps beside him. A werewolf in the house of Black! No doubt Sirius' mother is rolling over in her grave.
Sirius drops beside Remus, curling against the other man's side. Even as he sleeps, Remus' arm instinctively wraps around him, drawing him closer.
Sirius is safe and warm. Sirius is wanted.
His family is gone. They'll never walk the halls again. And yet, with Sirius secure in his lover's arms, it has never felt more like home.