"Last thing," Harry said, looking up at Draco carefully. "Possibly the biggest thing. Vernon and Petunia hate anything abnormal, which includes homosexuals." Draco grimaced. "And if you don't want to come, I get it, because I know homophobia can trigger your panic attacks, and that's the last thing I would want for you, but I wanted to let you know before we get there."

Draco took a deep breath and shook his head, "No, you're facing your fear, I can face mine. Don't worry about me."

"Don't go because I'm 'facing me fear', that's bullshit. Just because I'm going to get closure doesn't mean you should put yourself in potentiall triggering situation."

"I'm still going, Harry."

Harry sighed.

"Okay, I'll introduce you as my friend, of course. But, y'know, one slip of the tongue, or accidental handhold…"

"We aren't exactly great at hiding, yeah." Draco finished. "It'll be okay, Harry. I'll be fine."

Big, green eyes stared up at him.

"Are you sure?"

"Positive."

"You look absolutely ravishing in that green," Draco said, walking down the stairs. Harry glanced up, double-taking when he saw Draco, who was dressed in a royal blue sweater that turned his grey eyes into a more light blue and made his blond hair even sexier than before.

"And you look absolutely gorgeous in that blue."

"This?" Draco looked down. "I look terrible in muggle clothes, don't lie."

"No, you look fucking hot," Harry argued. "No argument," Draco grumbled, but hugged Harry nevertheless, allowing himself to melt into the warm embrace of his husband.

"Fine."

After apparating to Number 4 Privet Drive, Draco grimaced at the site of the dreary house. "Why is it so plain?"

"Dursley's like normality, remember? They would only settle for the most boring neighborhood in Surrey."

Staring ahead, Harry shuddered at the sight of the Dursley's perfectly shaped hedges and freshly mown grass. They must have hired someone after he left to keep up the yard. Aunt Petunia probably took over the inside chores.

Draco took his hand and squeezed it for one last time. "You good?" Harry nodded. "Let's go."

Harry took the lead his husband to the all too familiar front porch. His heart pounding, he took a deep breath and knocked on the door, 3 perfect knocks. Just as the Dursley's taught him.

Silence followed, before the light patter of steps rushed towards the door. Harry stepped back, letting Petunia peek through the peephole as she always does and open the door.

"P-potter?" She stuttered. "What are you doing here?"

Draco grimaced behind him, but Harry stepped on his foot gently to prevent him from saying anything.

"I just came to catch up with you all. May we come in?" Petunia stares, before jerking her head up and down and moving out of the way. "This is my friend, Draco Malfoy. We were classmates."

"P-plea-pleasure to meet you."

"And you," Draco said shortly. Harry let himself in, looking back to see Draco giving his signature cold glare to Petunia. He stopped walking so he was shoulder to shoulder with Draco again.

Gently bumping his shoulder, Harry muttered. "Hey, it's okay. Chill out, she didn't mean anything of it I'm sure." Draco scoffed in disbelief, but his gaze noticeably softened nevertheless.

"I was-I was just about to make some tea. Would you-you and your friend like so-some?"

"Yes please, Petunia. Would you like any help?" Draco kicked his calf, but he ignored it, barely feeling anything.

"No, thank you. You and your friend may sit in the living room. Your uncle and cousin are out, but they should be returning soon." She fixed her cold gaze on him, "Won't it be nice to have a family reunion after all these years."

Harry's fists clenched, and he focused on relaxing them to keep from alerting Draco of his discomfort. Sitting down on the couch, he couldn't help but think of weird it felt. As a kid he was never allowed to sit on the couch, he only deserved the floor, if he got to be in the living room at all.

Draco sat a friendly distance away from him, though close enough for their shoulders to brush.

"Was it always this clean when you were here?" He muttered. Harry nodded. "I didn't know muggle houses could be this clean without scourgify spells"

Harry snorted, "probably one of the most disappointing things about not using magic outside of Hogwarts was not being able to use those here." Draco grimaced.

"Is that cupboard back there...the one?" He muttered.

"Yeah."

"Its so fucking small"

"I was a small kid."

"Because they starved you,"

"That was a long time ago."

"I sometimes question if it's physically possible to have a heart as big as yours." Harry shook his head, a grin on his face. "'a long time ago' fuck, they abused you. Time doesn't change that."

Harry jumped before he could respond, as the door suddenly opened and all too familiar gruff voices filled the living room.

Draco spun around, curious to catch his first glimpse of the rest of Harry's horrendous relatives.

"That's your uncle and cousin?" He asked, glancing back at Harry, who was focusing harshly on the coffee table. He nodded sharply.

"I forgot how loud his voice was," Harry said under his breath, just loud enough for Draco to hear. "I don't know if I can do this, Draco."

"I'm right here, he isn't going to lay a single finger on you." Harry nodded, took a deep breath, and stood up to face his uncle.

"Hello, Vernon." It took everything in him not to cringe at the sight of his uncle's all too familiar face, red with rage.

"Boy? What are you here for? Come to take us away again?" Boy? Draco couldn't believe he wasn't mature enough to respect Harry, let alone as a person.

"His name is Harry," Draco said sharply. "And it would do you best if you called him by it." A light touch from Harry told him to calm down, but he wouldn't. Not if this man kept disrespecting his husband.

"Who are you? Are you another one of those freaks?" Harry flinched from beside him. Petunia had reached the door by now, taking Vernon and Dudley's coats off for them.

"Vernon, dear, that's Draco. One of Harry's friends from school." Vernon squinted his eyes.

"I don't want any funny business going on here, do you understand? He knows better than that, but I won't have any stranger coming in and disrupting my family with that freakishness." Draco hated this man more with every word he spoke. This wasn't even a fraction of what Harry had dealt with for years, and he was already going insane.

"He won't, sir." Harry interrupted from beside him, casting a glance at Drace that clearly said 'shut up'. "I just wanted to talk and catch up, and he wished to come along."

"He better not, or else we might just have to have a few words." Draco opened his mouth to retort, but Harry elbowed his side. Gasping, Draco glared at him.

"Just shut up," Harry muttered.

"He just threatened you, and you want me to do nothing?"

"Yes," was Harry's infuriating response. How could he handle it? Being threatened and belittled with every sentence.

Probably because he's used to it

Draco didn't want to think about that possibility.

"Why don't we have some tea?" Petunia offered, looking between Draco and Vernon, who were having a battle of cold glares.

"Lovely idea, Petunia." Vernon said, sitting himself down at the table. Harry and Draco followed, Draco being sure to place himself between Vernon and Harry.

"So, Harry, what do you do for a living now?"

"Until this morning I was Head Auror at the Ministry of- er, I was basically head of my folk's police department."

"And now?" Harry grimaced.

"I, erm, I quit so I'm unemployed right now," Vernon grunted, buttering another crumpet.

"Always knew you would end up that way. Bet you're about to ask if you can stay with us to get back on your feet. Always knew you would end up like your good for nothing freakish-"

Draco, watching as Harry curled into himself more and more with every word, couldn't hold it back any longer. "Don't you dare finish that statement. Harry's parents were both highly successful individuals and anyone who says otherwise is lying to themselves."

"How dare you-"

"So Vernon, how is work for you?" Harry interrupted, sending a glance Draco didn't even bother to interpret.

"Quite fine, thank you. Just received a promotion, actually. I'm the official head of the drill department now." Harry nodded, taking a sip of tea.

"Congratulations. And Petunia? How are you getting along?"

"Very well. Very busy with keeping up the house and garden, but everything is going along quite well."

Draco gaped at Harry as he held a civilized conversation with his two abusers as if they were two normal people at a meeting. Dudley sat quietly in a chair, until all the sudden his teacup harshly landed on the ceramic tiled floor, shattering into tiny pieces.

"Oh dear," exclaimed Petunia. "Harry, will you go get a broom from the cupboard?"

Draco started to pull out his wand, before swiftly putting it away after seeing Harry's glare. "I'll get it." He said, walking away before Harry could protest. He needed to see what that cupboard looked like. He needed to where Harry had grown up, where he had suppered countless nights because of those idiotic muggles. Harry wouldn't show him, understandably so. This was his opportunity.

The door creaked as he opened it, as any cupboard typically would, but Merlin was that cupboard small.

One would think that if you put a child in a cupboard of all places, you would be decent enough to make sure it was decent sized.

But no, of course not. The cupboard was horrendously small, smaller than even Dobby's living quarters. The previous blankets or whatever Harry had slept on were long gone, but the fading remains of crayon drawings clung to the walls.

A deep sadness clogged itself into Draco's chest as he brushed his fingers along the faded drawings. A bunch of green crayon scribbled over what looked like two parents and a child. His parent's death? How could he have remembered that at such a young age? Red dotted the bottom pieces of wood, and Draco quickly glanced away and pushed the images of what must've happened for it to end up there. It wasn't blood. Couldn't be.

Sudden anger bubbled in Draco's chest as he grabbed the broom and walked back to the kitchen, slamming the cupboard door behind him. How dare they force Harry, his Harry, the actual fucking sun on earth with his infinite forgiveness and love and Gryffindor comradery, to live in that?

When he returns, Harry doesn't look at him. Instead, his eyes are focused straight onto his half-empty teacup. Just like he had hyper-focused on the table earlier. One glance at the smug grin on the walrus's face told Draco everything he needed to know.

Suppressing his anger briefly, he nonchalantly began to sweep up the broken china, "so, Mr. Dursley, Harry's told me a lot about you and your wife."

Vernon's face pales. "He-he has?"

"Oh yes. How you so lovingly and selflessly took him in and raised him." Draco glanced at Harry's taught figure before throwing away the china and sitting down next to him. "It appears you two have had your words with each other. I believe its only fair I may have my turn next."

"Draco…" Harry muttered. "Stop, we should just go." Water filled his bright green eyes, and Draco knew they needed to leave, soon. But he couldn't help but say something first.

"What you did to Harry was unacceptable, plain and simple. It's unacceptable to treat anyone like that, let alone Harry, of all people. Had you actually taken the time to get to know him you would have realized you had the chance to raise the most generous, kind, and courageous person you'll ever get the chance to meet in your miserable lives. But no. You made his life a living hell, and yet he still wanted to come and try to make amends to see if you changed. Personally, I would have let you rot to dust for what you did. All he's ever wanted is a family, someone to love him, but all you gave him was hate and pain." Irrationally, Draco took Harry's hand and squeezed it reassuringly. Harry gasped from beside him but didn't say anything. "Because of you, he thinks he's worthless. He thinks no one means it when they say they love him, he can't believe me when I tell him I love him." Draco took a deep breath. "Because of you, and your fucking selfishness and greed I can't even tell my own fucking husband I love him without him doubting me and worrying I'm going to abandon or hurt him. So-so fuck you Dursleys."

The words felt good to say. Or rather, yell. Harry gripped his hand as if his life depended on it. Draco glanced between Vernon, whose face was growing to be a dark shade of purple and his lips were pulled back in a snarl, and Petunia, whose face was white with shock and dress stained from the teacup she dropped.

Fuck.