A House and a Home

I don't own 'Harry Potter'

He walked through the no-longer dilapidated hallway of Grimmauld Place, committing to memory the new reality of the building.

No longer did the house seem like a cold space of hatred, it was now a warm and cared-for home. It was a home where people who cared for each other lived, and even if he would never have what he truly wanted, he had enough to be happy.

As long as he was happy, Harry would accept anything.

He made his way down the stairs to the kitchen, no longer grubby and dingy, the long wooden table gleaming in the soft light radiating from the ceiling. The back door was open, the sound of rain permeating the room with the smell of smoke, the latter of which was emanating from the man in the doorway.

Sirius turned and smiled at him, and Harry swore he could feel his heart clench and warm at the same time.

Terrified didn't begin to describe what he'd felt at fifteen, seeing Sirius hit with an unknown spell and nearly falling into the Veil, then ending up in a coma that ended up lasting for years. Throughout that time he'd realised that he didn't just love Sirius, he was in love with him.

That almost terrified him more.

Surprisingly, Remus was very supportive of his feelings, most likely because of his marriage to Tonks, but Harry was nonetheless glad to have someone who didn't think him fundamentally wrong for feeling how he did.

Having Sirius wake up after the war – the spell Bellatrix used had been linked to her life – had been amazing, but it also highlighted just how scared he was. Sirius had had a shit life so far, and he promised himself that he'd do all he could to make the man happy.

Cleaning up Grimmauld Place had been a bonding experience he'd never forget, but Harry despaired at the idea that one day Sirius would want to share his home with his future spouse.

"What are you thinking about?"

Harry answered before even thinking. "The day you get married to someone and live here with them."

Silver eyes darkened and the older man frowned before sighing. He put out his cigarette before moving closer to Harry.

"You're bloody smart, you know, but sometimes I wonder how you miss things."

Sirius' fingers – he'd always liked his fingers – came up and grasped his chin, thumb reaching out to softly play with his lower lip. Harry felt himself blush, and he watched in bewildered happiness as the older man leaned down slowly and sealed their lips together.

The younger of the two lost himself in the bliss, though eventually Sirius pulled back and looked into green eyes intently.

"Of course I want to share this house with the person I love, but I was under the impression I already was."

Harry didn't give a shit what anyone would think about his actions and what they said about him, and he leaned forward to bury his head in Sirius' chest, quietly hiding his silent tears.

He had a home with the man he loved.