Harry stood in the driveway of number four Privet Drive with one hand on his suitcase and the other buried in the fur of the huge, black dog that sat next to him. He had begged his Godfather in the run up to the end of term that he needn't have come with him. Sirius had relented, but shown up at Platform Nine and Three Quarters anyway, giving Harry no choice but to take him with him.

"We're going in and out," Harry said to Sirius. "No arguments."

Dog-Sirius panted at him, looking for all the world like he was laughing.

Harry stepped forward and rung the doorbell. He shifted his weight on the doorstep as he heard one of the Dursley's clattering down the stairs. Suddenly, there was a tight ball of nerves in his stomach, and he instinctively scratched the back of Sirius' ears.

The door opened and a blotchy Uncle Vernon stared at him.

"Oh," he grunted. "You're back, are you?"

"Yeah," Harry felt his nerves fail him. Sirius' nose nudged his palm and he took a breath. "I'm just here to pick up my stuff."

"Your stuff?" Uncle Vernon blinked at him.

How could Harry stand up to Lord Voldemort, the Dark Lord, but not his Uncle?

"I'm going to – I've decided to stay with my Godfather," he hated how his voice wobbled – more like he was asking permission than telling Uncle Vernon.

His Uncle's bushy eyebrows rose. He glared at Harry disapprovingly, which was quite standard for Uncle Vernon.

"Your Godfather…the murderer?"

Dog-Sirius growled and Harry curled his fingers into the hound's shaggy mane.

"He was wrongfully accused," he said. "It was actually my best friend's pet rat, who had been disguised for twelve years. He made it look like Sirius killed him and Sirius only wanted to kill him because he was the one who sold out my parent's location to Lord Voldemort, effectively signing their death warrant. Really he's the reason I was left at your doorstep."

"You're not funny, boy."

"For once, I'm not trying to be," Harry said. His voice sounded small and high and he hated it.

Uncle Vermon finished up his bout of glaring, then opened the front foor wider.

"I suopose you'd better come in. Not the dog. That mutt can stay out there."

Harry considered explain that that mutt was his Godfather, but then realised it would give Sirius an excuse to turn into a human. He wouldn't be able to deal with Sirius Black picking a fight with the Dursley's. Instead, he thought fast.

"Grimm, stay," he said, tugging his suitcase over the threshold. "I'll be out in a minute."

Dog-Sirius did not look impressed, but Harry had already slipped into the house, and Uncle Vernon couldn't bear a dog seeing the inside of his sparkling clean house, so the door was closed the next moment.

Uncle Vernon was still staring at him suspiciously in the hall.

"I thought you had to come back," he said, as though Harry was a cancerous growth.

"I do, technically," Harry said. His heart was thudding. Half an hour, just half an hour more, and he would be free. "But I've decided not to."

Aunt Petunia had poked her head out of the living room, staring at Harry with wide eyes.

"He has to - that's what that awful headmaster said."

A year ago, Harry would have yelled at them for calling Dumbledore awful. Now, he let it slide.

"Call it teenage rebellion," he said. He didn't want to get into how much it hurt to have Dumbledore ignore him for the whole year, allow Snape to open Harry's mind to Voldemort and then disprove of his boyfriend's mother helping him to close it up again.

Maybe it was because his boyfriend's mother was Narcissa Malfoy and her husband was a known Death Eater.

Maybe it was because his boyfriend was Draco Malfoy, who had been his bitterest rival for the last five years.

But Harry didn't feel like explaining this to his Aunt and Uncle. He hadn't meant to come out to the whole school and their reaction had tainted the paradise that Hogwarts had always been. He didn't want to get into that with the Dursley's. He didn't want to get into much of anything.

He just slipped up the stairs and into Dudley's second bedroom. He still couldn't think of it as his, because he knew it was never meant to be his. This wasn't Harry's space. This was a borrowed space.

As Harry crammed the rest of his belongings – the few things he didn't care to take to Hogwarts with him – into his battered suitcase, he realised he'd never had a room. There was nowhere he could call 'Harry's Room,' with surety. His dormitory had always been shared, and his room at Grimmauld Place was still half packed away and covered in dust. When he thought of the bedrooms there, all he could remember where tears and grief and pain. Not exactly a home sweet home.

But Sirius would be there. And Draco. And he had to be there for Draco now.

He could hear Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia talking about him downstairs. They weren't making an effort to keep their grumbles of shock and disgust at Harry's decision out of his earshot. He tried to ignore it. He had gotten pretty good at ignoring things. He doubted Hogwarts would ever take kindly to a Gryffindor and a Slytherin dating, especially when it was two boys.

Dudley was watching him from the doorway. He still looked faintly scared of Harry, which made him realise that the scariest thing that happened to Dudley last year was the dementor attack. He wished he could say the same.

"You're leaving," Dudley said.

"Very observant of you," Harry said, pushing a final pair of socks in the suitcase. They were lumpy and mud coloured, but he supposed that Dobby, if no one else, would appreciate them.

Dudley paused, looking slightly sick.

"You saved my life."

"I did," Harry hoicked the suitcase from the bed and took a step towards the door. "It was nothing."

"But you saved my life," Dudley repeated. He was blocking the door.

"Day in the life," Harry replied and stepped forward again.

Dudley still didn't move. Harry forced himself to make eye contact.

There was a long moment. Obviously something was going on in Dudley's head, but Harry couldnt bring himself to figure it out. He felt himself beginning to tremble and hated himself for it.

Eventually, Dudley shuffled enough for Harry to get by.

"Now listen here, boy - you can't decide to just up and leave without discussing it with us first!" Uncle Vernon was at the bottom of the stairs.

"You've always wanted me gone," Harry said, frowning and confused and straining with the weight of his trunk. "So I'm going."

Uncle Vernon sputtered as Harry pushed past him, pushing the front door open. He was so close - so close to leaving - nothing was going to stop him now. Elation was drowning fear.

"Thank you for - thanks for making my life a misery but I guess saving my life for the last fifteen years," Harry said. He was standing on the doorstep. He was going to leave. He was finally going to leave the Dursley's. It made him throw caution to the wind. "I'm going to stay with my werewolf boyfriend now."

He let the door swing shut behind him and started down the path, dog-Sirius at his heels. His entire body felt as though it was trembling. He half expected the Dursley's to chase him down the road and drag him back by the scruff of his neck.

But he'd finally left.

Sirius panted as they walked down the road, looking for all the world like he was grinning at Harry. He mustered up a smile.

He paused. They had reached the playground on the corner and Harry had been hit with the memory of the first time he had met Sirius. When he had stumbled over and believed the dog was a death omen. He could almost laugh at himself as he summoned the Knight Bus, on purpose this time, and heading to Grimmauld Place.

He gave the name of a street a couple of rows down and they walked the rest of the way. Harry knew Sirius was dying to ask what had happened at Four Privet Drive and though he wasn't ready to tell him, the silence was just as uncomfortable.

There was a figure leaning against the doorway to 12 Grimmauld Place, blonde hair shining like a star.

Harry was caught between rolling his eyes and grinning from ear to ear, which, so far, had been most of his relationship with Draco Malfoy.

"You're not meant to be out here," Harry called as soon as they were within earshot.

"I didn't realise there was a full moon in the middle of the day," Draco replied in his usual drawl.

"It has nothing to do with the moon, Bellatrix-"

He was interrupted by Draco leaning forward and stealing a kiss from him.

Dog-Sirius trotted up the stairs, his tail slapping against the back of Harry's legs like a pat on the back. It made the whole 'kissing in front of your Godfather,' thing more awkward.

But Draco seemed to thrive off of Harry's embarrassment. He had a sparkle in his eye as he held the front door open for him. And though he still felt incredibly awkward, Harry couldn't help but grin as he wheeled his suitcase into Grimmauld Place.

This was it. This was home.

The peace and quiet lasted for all of fifteen minutes before Harry and Draco heard the raised voices from downstairs. Evidently, Dumbledore had found out about Harry's decision and evidently he didn't like it.

"He thinks I'm a bad influence on you," Draco said. They had been sat next to each other against the headboard, their legs tangled together, but now Draco slipped his arms around Harry's waist, gently pulling him around until he could rest his chin on Harry's shoulder.

"Bullshit. I'm a bad influence on you and you know it," he replied, turning his head so that his lips grazed Draco's cheek as he spoke.

"I'm the Death Eater, don't forget."

"I just – I don't get him. I don't get how having a Death Eater for a dad immediately means you don't deserve his help."

"You seem to forget how you hated me last year," Draco said. His fingers clenched almost imperceptibly. "You thought I was too."

Harry felt guilt and regret wiggling inside him like worms in a compost heap.

"That's different," he muttered. "I'm a stupid teenager."

Draco laughed, but it felt too forced against the sound of Sirius' angry bark.

"I was. I was basically a Death Eater," Draco said. Harry went to move, to turn so that he could look him in the eye as he said it, but Draco squeezed his waist gently. It was a plead with him to stay still, so he did, staring at Draco's pale clasped hands in front of him. "When I was growing up, I thought my father was right about everything. I was spoon-fed all of that blood elitist and Voldemort stuff and I liked it because it made me feel grown-up. My father had a way of talking to me about it that made me feel special to listen to it. When I look back, it's pretty said. A preacher of some long-dead idea talking to his five-year old son about it because that's the only person who will listen anymore."

"But it's not dead. Voldemort's back."

"Yeah, now. Harry," his heart still jumped whenever Draco used his first name. "Eleven years ago, everyone thought Voldemort was dead. It would be like Merlin returning now. I remember I got some Hufflepuff a detention for saying Voldemort could never come back. I made out like they had punched me and Snape did the rest. It's embarrassing, to think about how I was when I was twelve."

"We're all embarrassed about how we were when we were twelve."

"Shut up. You saved the school twice before your thirteenth birthday," Draco paused for a moment. "I hated you for that."

"I hated you back."

"Really? Even when we met in Madame Malkins? Before you knew about half-bloods and purebloods and Slytherins and Gryffindors?"

"There was something," Harry murmured. He smiled, leaning back against Draco. "I could sense the entitlement coming off of you."

Draco chuckled. His fingers had slipped under the hem of Harry's shirt, feeling incredibly warm.

There was a crash from downstairs that wiped the smiles off of their faces.

"I've already lost him once and I'm not about to lose him again!"

The words should have sent a thrill of warmth through Harry. He should be over the moon to hear those words. Maybe it was the situation and maybe it was because he wasn't meant to hear them, but they didn't have that effect. It felt wrong somehow, that someone would want to keep him around. That someone would defy Dumbledore to keep him around. No one should care about Harry that much.

"For God's sake, Sirius – you have to understand the danger!" that was Shacklebolt.

"It's bad enough to take Harry away from the only place where he's safe from Voldemort, but to put him under the same roof as Malfoy's wife? As Bellatrix Lestrange's sister?" Mad-Eye Moody.

"Blood means nothing. I'm a testament to that."

"How do we know she's not a spy? That she's not reporting back everything to Bellatrix?"

"Draco." It was Molly Weasley's voice. A Molly Weasley who hadn't quite regained her spark since her husband's death. "Do you honestly think a mother would keep working for you-know-who after what she did to her son?"

Harry tightened his grip on Draco's hands, but he had gone very still. He couldn't even feel Draco's breath against his neck.

"A rouse, to throw off suspicion from the both of them."

"How can you be so heartless?!"

"I will leave."

Narcissa's voice rung calmly from downstairs.

Harry and Draco moved at once, scrambling off of the four poster bed and over to the peeling door. They leaned down over the bannisters, straining to catch Narcissa's voice.

"If it makes you all feel more at ease, I will find somewhere else to go."

"Don't be ridiculous, Cissy, you have to teach Harry occlumency."

"Like hell she has to – how do we know she's not preparing his mind on a platter for Voldemort?"

"Because Snape was already doing that."

"If I wanted to turn the boy over to the Dark Lord, do you honestly think I would have waited this long? Mr Potter was coming over to my house for months. It would have been easy to hand him over to Lucius then." There was a long silence. Harry imagined Narcissa examining everyone in the room carefully with those large, grey eyes of hers. "I will notify Sirius of my new lodgings."

Draco grabbed a fistful of Harry's t-shirt.

There was more movements, the sound of Sirius talking quickly to Narcissa as she headed into the hallway. Harry couldn't make out the words over the sound of him and Draco clattering down the stairs. Each one seemed to creak, groan, or snap.

"Thank you for the offer, but I cannot accept. This family's pride is it's greatest weakness," Narcissa was talking to Molly Weasley, and looked surprised when Molly gave her a brief, fierce goodbye hug.

"You can't go," Draco said, almost stumbling as he stepped forward. But that was probably just the amount of people crammed into the hallway.

"But I must, mon trésor," Narcissa gave him that sad smile. She cupped his cheek in her hand for a moment, her eyes shiny. "You will be perfect."

Draco opened his mouth and closed it without saying anything. He covered Narcissa's hand with his own and nodded instead.

It only occurred to Harry as Narcissa was stepping out of the front door that they had probably used Occlumency to speak to one another.

Silence at Narcissa Malfoy's departure filled the hallway for a brief moment before Mad-Eye begun speaking again.

"And then there's the matter of the boy-"

"Draco's not leaving," Sirius said quickly. "That would be ridiculous."

"It would be vigilant. Lestrange already had a spy here. Anyone associated with her-"

"Stop it, Mad-Eye!"

It was Lupin's voice, the only time Harry had ever heard him raise it. They watched as a tired Lupin pushed his way through the crowd.

"It would be foolishness to let this boy leave the house now, on this night," Lupin continued, his pale face ablaze as he glared at Mad-Eye. "The two most qualified people to make sur ehe doesn't hurt himself or anyone else are right here."

For once, both of Mad-Eye's eyes were focused on the same spot, staring at Lupin with something akin to disbelief.

But he relented, grumbling something about letting him stay only until the full moon was over that no one quite believed. Lupin had done it, though. He had crossed the order and gotten his own way. He had made it so that Draco Malfoy got to stay at twelve Grimmauld Place, which seemed the best thing in the world to Harry at that moment.

Of course, he had mixed feelings about it when the sun began to set. Not that he'd ever not want Draco with him, but there was something agonising about seeing Draco sat on the end of the sofa, his thin, pale fingers tapping against the arm of the sagging fabric, staring into space with an equally pale face. His answers became monotone and his voice distant.

Lupin had brought a T.V and had battled with it all afternoon until they had found a channel that played very crackly movies in black and white. The Wizard of Oz seemed a lost less magical when the Emerald City was the colour of ash.

Not that anyone was watching it. Sirius and Lupin were half-engrossed in a game of Wizard's Chess that seemed to be a permanent stalemate and half watching the sun sinking in the sky.

"Professor Snape said you tried to kill him once on a full moon," Draco said as Dorothy clicked her heels to go home. He sounded oddly meditative, but Draco always seemed a lot calmer than Harry about things.

"Snape exaggerates," Sirius said. His flicked a pawn forward.

"It's not that much of an exaggeration," Lupin corrected. He leant back in his chair, tracing the cracks in the ceiling as he spoke. "Neither James or Sirius ever thought it would go that far. I never thought that Severus would follow them anywhere. But they stopped. That's the important part, isn't it? That was the part that always separated Severus from James. James stopped. I think Severus would have let James or Sirius die."

"I stopped too, don't forget," Sirius said. He leant over the chessboard, matching Lupin's gaze as he looked down. There was a brief moment where Harry wasn't sure what passed between them, before Lupin glanced away, his jaw working.

"He knows," Harry wasn't sure if Draco had actually heard any of that. He was still looking out the window at the pink and orange sky. "What I am. I was told he'd make me wolfsbane potion if I returned to my father."

Lupin stared at Draco for a long time, even though Draco made no sign of moving.

"It's your decision," he said, finally, his voice soft.

"It's like you said. I'm inhuman, but going back would be just as inhuman."

Harry was quite sure Draco had forgotten he was here. Draco had never told him what Lupin had said to him when he had first arrived back at Grimmauld Place, covered in grim and blood. Harry had never pried.

He had felt useless all day, and now he felt even more so. He was starting to doubt if being 'The Chosen One' actually meant anything at all. Even the prophecy could have referred to Neville instead of him.

Sirius and Lupin stood as the credits on the T.V rolled to a close, as though that was a signal.

"I've spent the whole week reinforcing the basement and buying chew toys," Sirius said. Harry couldn't tell if he was being serious or not. "But I'll be with you to make sure nothing goes wrong."

"Sirius-"

"You're getting old, Moony," Sirius flashed a grin. He was starting to look less like a skull and more like the handsome teenager he had once been. "I can take you."

"There's two of us."

"You think a kid's going to get the best of me," Sirius smirked at Draco.

For a moment, Harry thought Draco wasn't paying attention, then his eyes slid over to Sirius lazily. He paused, then said, with no emotion.

"Uncle Sirius."

It was enough to make Sirius blanch.

"We should get going," he squeaked, opening the door with a creak.

Draco smirked, though he still looked sickly, and stood. He paused in front of Harry, leaning over to press their foreheads together, so that all Harry could see was a blur of grey.

"Don't try and see, okay?" he murmured. "I want to stay perfect in your eyes."

Under normal circumstances, Harry would have responded with something witty, probably 'fuck off, Malfoy,' but Sirius and Lupin were still in the room and he felt awkward swearing in front of them.

He choice the less awkward option. He kissed Draco and tried to give him a reassuring smile.

Then he listened to them head downstairs and fell onto his side on the sofa. The Railway Children came on, the audio crackling. Harry tried to focus on that instead of the howls and barks and growls he heard from the basement. He didn't know the rules on whether the neighbours could hear what was happening inside the house, given they couldn't see it most of the time.

He also hoped Kreacher wouldn't be able to hear it. He had been forbidden to give Bellatrix Lestrange any information, but Harry knew he was desperate to find any loophole in Sirius' instructions.

He sloped upstairs and watched Hedwig instead, though the stairs didn't entirely hide the wolf howls.

There was a small pile of letters already – Hermione checking everything was fine. She was going to stay with Ron for the summer and told him she would visit if she either wasn't needed or she was stepping on their toes. Harry found it hard to imagine the Burrow without Arthur Weasley.

Fred and George had moved back in, apparently. Mrs Weasley was still far from thrilled about their dropping out of Hogwarts, but their joke shop was successful. She was turning slowly around to the idea, even if she yelled at them for trying to sneak money into her purse.

Percy was still working for the Ministry of Magic. He had sent a small card of condolence.

Ron repeated the news, and remarked that Theodore Nott had also sent his condolences – about his father and about scurrying away from them the moment Harry and Draco were outed to the school. Ron felt this meant nothing, that actions spoke louder than words, but that was one of the best things about Ron. He defended Harry so fiercely no matter what, and Harry just couldn't understand why.

The third letter was from Luna Lovegood, containing scraps of poems and notes to Ginny. She asked Harry's opinion of them, and whether she should say them to Ginny in person, in a letter, or deliver them by thestral. Harry reminded her that it would be Ginny's first time actually seeing a thestral, and it was probably not best to remind your crush of their father's death whilst trying to declare your feelings. He knew that Luna felt terrible about hesitating when Ginny kissed her in the Department of Mysteries, but he also knew that Ginny had bigger things on her mind than her love life.

But this was all things that he knew and he didn't put a lot of thought into the replies.

There was still howling coming from downstairs, and then a horrible yelp. Harry cringed over his ink, gritting his teeth. He didn't want to see. He didn't want to hear. But he also couldn't stand to not see, to not know who had yelped.

He shouldn't complain. He had no grounds to complain about this. If anyone should be complaining, or if anyone should be upset, it should be Draco. He was the one who had to live with it – to go through it.

Harry just felt helpless about it all. It was just another thing he couldn't do anything to help with. He couldn't save Cedric or Arthur Weasley. He couldn't choose where he wanted to live. He couldn't help his boyfriend go through lycanthropy.

He couldn't do anything.