The world threw nothing but sour rotten lemons at Sirius Black. And of course, he took it as best as he could, but he knew he was always missing something. He escaped a second time, during my third year, more vengeful and twisted than ever. It took more than a year to work him down, till he was what normal people called "sane", but he got there nonetheless.

I always admired him, for escaping on his own, waiting till it was crucial for his own survival before breaking loose.

My fourth, fifth, and sixth year in school were rather difficult. Dealing with the loss of a friend, then being a third wheel to Ron and Hermione when they started dating. Accepting my sexual orientation my sixth year was nothing short of a miracle. The more I found myself checking out guys, the more repulsive I felt, till I got to the point where I didn't want to live anymore. No one would like me or care about me anymore, and it wouldn't matter that at the end of that year would defeat Voldemort once again. I would not be their hero, because I was gay.

But that is so me, Mr. Modesty. Of course everyone still liked me and cared about me. I wasted all my effort trying to hide it, but everyone that I cared about, already knew. It was very eye opening, and very egotistical of me, to think like that, but there it is.

On with the story, please.

***

Chapter seven

"Our one-year anniversary," Draco started, "First we were enemies, and rivals. Now we are Equals and lovers. I like that change."

Harry grinned and kissed the blonde man. "So do I, Draco, so do I." Harry smiled sweetly up at him, "I love you," he said softly.

"I love you too," Draco replied, kissing Harry again.

The sun had just rose, as the two young lovers lay in bed. They stayed up all night, professing their love then showing it to one another.

"Breakfast?" Harry asked, climbing out of bed. "We have a very busy day. Sirius said he had something very important to tell me... us, and I'd like to get it over with so we can shag some more."

Draco threw his head back and laughed heartily. "Shameless wench!" He yelled, jumping out of bed, and tackling the dark-headed man to the floor.

They got tangled in bed covers as they kissed, rubbing against each other, getting lost in their haze of passion.

"Drake, we have to stop, for five minutes," Harry breathed, " and Sirius is going to be here any minute."

Draco, who was on top, sat up, straddling Harry. "Oh, very well." He leaned down, and gave Harry a quick peck, before running off. "I get the shower first! And no, you are NOT getting in here with me!"

Harry just sat up and laughed.

"So, how are you, Sirius?" Harry asked, grinning at his godfather.

"Good, I've been good," he replied, distractedly. "Harry, I'm just gonna get to it. I have something to tell you."

"What?" Harry asked softly.

"Ok... um," Sirius stood up and started pacing. Running one hand through his black hair, he tried again, "Ok. Harry, about 11 years ago, while I was still in Azkaban, There was this new inmate..." Sirius went on to tell the story.

Harry sat there, holding Draco's hand rather tightly, shocked. "Ok, so let me get this straight," Draco said, realizing Harry wasn't in the frame of mind to answer, "You escaped with James Potter to a château in France, and became lovers for a whole year, while Lily sat on the sidelines, completely ok with it, then he makes you go back to Azkaban, and you've forgotten about all of this until now, because, while visiting a little vacation house in France, you stumbled upon a book James said you'd find, relating all the details of your relationship of that year, and know you want to leave to go find him?" Draco asked exasperatedly.

**

He really has a way of putting things, hasn't he?

**

Sirius stopped and looked at Harry. "Harry, read this. It'll explain everything. I have to go find your father. I have to. I love him. I need him, Harry." He rushed towards the door, and looked over his shoulder. "I love him Harry, and I'm not going to let him get away from me. Not again." With that, Sirius left the flat, and disparated to nowhere.

"Harry, are you ok?" Draco asked his lover softly, looking him in the eyes.

"My... father... he's alive. Or was..." Harry stammered. "Draco, I... I can't be here right now." He snatched up the book and ran out of the flat.

Draco sighed and ran his fingers through his platinum blonde hair. "Oh god."

**

I sat in Ron's living room for hours, pouring over the Journal Sirius had left me. I couldn't believe that it was true. I didn't want to believe it was true, and yet, in a handwriting that seemed so familiar and foreign at the same time, it was all pointing to one direction.

My godfather and Dad had an affair when I was seven.

There were even letters addressed to me in there.

At least they still thought about me.

**