Draco’s heart was in his throat, having walked past no. 12 Grimmauld Place more times than he cared to count anymore, but not daring to actually stop and knock.
He had confirmed that it was indeed where his mum’s cousin was living, knowing that there couldn’t possible by many people in London with the name of Sirius Black. He had also confirmed that someone was home, having spotted movement in the windows one of the many times that he had passed the block.
It felt ridiculous to not have the courage to walk in, but in all honesty, Draco didn’t even know if his mum’s cousin would even want to see him, considering that he very much looked like the part of the family that had disowned him. Then again, Draco hadn’t even been born at the time, so it wouldn’t really make sense for him to be the recipient of the grudge.
Feeling his hands shaking, Draco slowly bade him way towards the door, feeling sick with nerves as he got closer. His mind was running with a million miles an hour, unsure if he was trying to talk himself into or out of knocking, when his finger was suddenly on the bell, not having enough coherence of mind to stop himself from pressing it.
He hadn’t even registered his own hand moving, but now that he had made his presence known, he felt stuck in place, unsure what he would even say if the door even got opened in the first place.

_________________

Sirius had only just ventured into the kitchen, intent on thawing tonight’s dinner, when the harsh electrical buzz of the bell cut through the music playing on the radio.
“Coming,” he called ahead as he ascended the stairs from the cellar kitchen to the ground floor, a tedious trip at best that had cost him many missed parcel deliveries.
He moved through the house with an ease that had only been afforded him after decades in this house, finally his entirely. That feeling suddenly and violently escaped him as soon as he opened the door.
Nothing could have prepared him for the spitting image of his brother standing on his doorstep, inverted and bright where Regulus had been pitch black. For a brief, irrational moment, Sirius thought he had seen a ghost, translucent in the summer sun.
The unmistakable familiarity of the stranger made him stall, the sudden prang of heartache dulling his immediate friendliness, his hand tentatively moved from the knob to the edge of the door.
The young man, now clearly not his reanimated brother, seemed equally thinly worn by the interaction, prompting Sirius to ask a clumsily considerate, “Alright?”

Nothing could have prepared Draco to finally being face to face with the man that he had considered reaching out to for so long. He had had no idea of what his mum’s estranged cousin looked like, no idea where to even start and yet somehow the appearance of the older man still managed to take him aback.
Everything from the long hair to the visible jewellery to the cheeta print sweater made Draco’s head spin, unsure how to even start talking.
“Uh, yeah,” Draco started, feeling even more nervous than he had before now that he was standing in front of the man. “I’m sorry, you Sirius Black?” Draco felt the need to confirm, even if he felt fairly certain that he had gotten it right.
“I am so sorry to disturb, I don’t know if you even know who I am, but my name is Draco Malfoy,” Draco started, feeling the words leave him without much thought, unsure if the name would mean anything to the man in front of him or if he would even care.

_________________

The recognition suddenly and visibly dawned upon Sirius’ features. While not a ghost, it felt like an apparition from a different life, regardless.
“Oh, ****, yeah,” Sirius all but exclaimed, a context clue to the familiarity he had been unable to pinpoint. He opened the door wider, allowing himself to really look at the young man in front of him. “You’re Narcissa’s kid.”
Though he knew through Andromeda that Narcissa had had a child, Sirius had never personally met the man his cousin married, and, frankly, he gained little information from his son’s features; the man was the spitting image of his maternal side.
“No, you’re alright,” he promised, made equally clumsy by the delay, still trying to wrap his mind around it all.
He let go of the door all together, the act an echo to the growing openness of his tone. Instead, his hands found his cuffs, restlessly pushing up his sleeves, rightfully surprised by the visit.
“What can I do you for?”

Everything about their interaction so far was leaving Draco rattled, and being identified as Narcissa’s kid was not making it any easier for him. He could feel his throat close up and tears welled in his eyes, which he quickly tried to push down, not wanting to make the other man uncomfortable, but also feeling that tears would likely be inevitable at some point.
“I’m sorry, I just didn’t know who else to go to,” Draco stated, his voice quieter now in an attempt to stop himself from crying.
He had barely told anyone about the situation he was in, having only managed to tell Pansy because she already knew, so it seemed as good as impossible to tell a virtual stranger about it. However, being able to see himself in Sirius like that was some source of comfort to him, recognising his own and his mum’s features in the strangers face being a strange, but warming, experience.
“I-I don’t know what to do,” Draco added, his throat closing up further the tears fighting him to get to fall.

_________________

The tone of the conversation changed as soon as the man’s voice grew strained, washing an horribly familiar feeling of dread over Sirius’; he glanced down at the messenger bag the man carried, and the sight made his stomach turn.
Sirius wasn’t a stranger to this exact situation. Over the course of the years, several of Remus’ students had appeared on their doorstep with similar scarcely packed bags. This felt different, the hurt too familiar when it was painted across features that looked so similar to Sirius’ own.
“Draco, was it?” Sirius needed to have clarified, gently but without making a fuss. His eyes briefly left his cousin, looking over his shoulders and onto the street he had come from, not sure what he was looking for.
Taking a step backwards into the entryway, he nodded a gesture inwards, before his eyes once again found the young man. “Would you join me for tea?”

The offer for tea sent a wave of relief through Draco, having been so unsure if Sirius had even wanted to have him around for any amount of time. Maybe it was just because Draco was clearly teary eyed and maybe just looked a little sad, but if it meant that Draco at least got to explain his situation, then he was definitely going to take it.
“Yeah,” Draco muttered to both of them questions, following the older man into the house, heart still in his throat as he did. He grasped the strap on his bag tightly, not because he was afraid that he was going to lose it, but because he needed something to hold onto.
“Thanks,” he added, feeling the urge to apologise again, but also knowing that he had started just about every single sentence he had said to Sirius so far with an apology and this refrained.
Instead, he took a moment to take a look around the hallway, finding it nice and homey with pictures of unfamiliar people looking at him from just about everywhere. It seemed very nice and it gave Draco hope.

_________________

Though Sirius had closed the door behind Draco, shutting out the buzz of traffic, the music playing from beneath them was almost enough to drown out the young man’s meeker responses.
Being in no rush, Sirius readily allowed him a moment to settle himself. He recognized that particular look of heartbroken desperation in Draco’s eyes as he skimmed over the photographs covering the wall and stairway, making his stomach ache; in spite of that, Sirius found himself able to smile, joyous in its fragility.
“My husband,” Sirius offered, not only as an act of superficial kindness but a reassurance he himself had wanted to receive when he was in Draco’s position. No matter the support Sirius had found in Alphard, his life was one of somber solitude; ever since, Sirius had found it impossible not to proudly and victoriously display the happiness he had found for himself, the wall nowhere large enough to contain it all. “He’s at work, still.”

The word husband further threatened the tears in Draco’s eyes to fall, finding it to be beautiful when leaving the mouth of someone like Sirius. There was no mistaken the look of pride on Sirius’ face as he made the proclamation, and the pictures told the story of a close couple, several of the pictures having them accompanied by children and teenagers.
Feeling uncertain his voice would hold if he spoke further, Draco nodded softly at the comment, not wanting Sirius to find him rude, but he really didn’t know what to say.
Growing up as a Malfoy, Draco had never even been allowed to know what a gay person was, much less allowed to be one. Even being around Sirius felt forbidden, knowing that he would be in deep trouble if either of his parents found out, but he knew that that trouble would come once that damned Sun article was going to be released anyway.
“Been together long?” Draco managed, glancing briefly over at Sirius, but finding that that made it worse and returning his attention to the pictures.

_________________

Sirius’ eyes followed Draco’s to the pictures adorning the wall, proof of a life well lived. Scattered between them were pictures from their youth, both with friends and alone, though it was impossible for Sirius to tell if those even caught Draco’s eye. Sirius had been with Remus longer than he had been without him, and it had already been years since that balance had tipped.
“Yeah.”
Though reserved in its simplicity, Sirius’ answer wasn’t unkind. It was gentle, compassionate to the fact that the span of his relationship was greatly influenced by how early he had allowed himself that happiness, and tentative to say anything that might have Draco believe he had lost out on at that time.
Sirius turned to look at Draco.
There were a million different things his estranged cousin could reasonably have reached out to Sirius for, and yet that exact look of defeat displayed on Draco’s features gave away what had brought the man to Sirius’ doorstep. Intimately familiar with the scene, Sirius offered Draco the same kindness Alphard had offered him three decades prior without reservation.
Reaching out for him, Sirius’ palm brushed across Draco’s shoulder blades, settling on the shoulder the man had turned towards him.
“You’re alright,” Sirius repeated, for the third time within their brief conversation. This time, the meaning had shifted, an invitation for Draco to ease the burden he so visibly carried on his shoulders.
His free hand, too, found Draco, wrapping his arm around him and pulling him into a hug.

The hug was as unexpected and their entire interaction had been and Draco was talking a moment too long to react, awkwardly wrapping his arms around Sirius in an attempt to return the embrace. The hug also seemed to be the catalyst for Draco, no longer able to keep in the years that he had been fighting for most of the day, he cried into Sirius’ shoulder.
Feeling awkward in receiving so much from someone who was still a virtual stranger, Draco started muttering thanks to Sirius, unsure how coherent it was, but wanting to be able to explain to Sirius just how much the entire thing meant to him.
He hadn’t even told Sirius why he had showed up, why he so desperately needed the help of his estranged cousin, but the embrace was enough to tell Draco that Sirius knew and understood. It was the first time Draco had ever really felt like that and it was so jarring to him that it was hard to do anything but cry and just stay in the embrace.

_________________

Sirius expected the tears before he heard them, feeling how Draco allowed his body to slump against his. Though Sirius had only moments ago been virtually unaware of Draco’s existence, he didn’t waver under the weight, happy to help carry that load.
While Sirius didn’t particularly hold his family to a high esteem, he was heartbroken that they had learned so little in the past thirty years.
“You’re good,” he reaffirmed, needing to know that Draco’s hurt wasn’t a burden to Sirius.
Aware of the relief that came with tears, Sirius made no further effort to stop Draco from crying. Instead, he brushed his palm across Draco’s back, wanting only for him to steady his breathing.

Draco had no idea how long he had been standing in the embrace, probably not as long as he felt like he did, finding the embrace to span hours, but he just didn’t want to let go. The sweet reassurance that he was alright helped soothe Draco and make him feel less intrusive, relieved that Sirius didn’t seem to mind his presence, nor his tears.
Eventually though, Draco’s tears dried up, not because he felt that he was done crying, but more because he didn’t feel like he should keep crying to someone who was essentially a stranger. Gingerly, he let go of Sirius again, allowing the embrace to end, no matter how nice and comforting it had been.
“I’m sorry,” Draco stated, having still not even told Sirius what his problem was and yet he was still being treated with such kindness that he could hardly believe it.

_________________

When Draco broke the embrace, Sirius’ hands lingered at Draco’s elbows, maintaining an opportunity for Draco to reengage before eventually dropping them completely.
In lieu of yet another repetition, Sirius smiled his reassurance.
“There’s a restroom behind you, if you need it,” he offered almost routinely, nodding to the door on the back wall of the entryway. Thoughtlessly, his hand found his collar, straightening the shoulder Draco had pulled askew.
“I’ll go put the kettle on, yeah? The kitchen’s downstairs.”

Deciding that he needed to gather himself, Draco nodded softly at the offer and went to the restroom, knowing that he had to have lost all signs of composure. He hadn’t even managed to say the words and yet he had broken down anyway, leaving him feeling slightly humiliated, but tried to talk himself out of it by reassuring himself that Sirius hadn’t seemed to mind.
For a moment, he considered calling Pansy, already feeling the need to debrief, but decided against it and instead just texted her. He had told her about his plan for the day and he knew that she had to be eager to get updates.
Once he felt back in a semi normal state, he ventured out to find the kitchen.

_________________

Upon returning to the kitchen, the first thing Sirius had done was to pick out another portion of homemade cottage pie to thaw, just in case. There were still a few hours to dinnertime, and for now Sirius didn’t want to commit Draco to staying for dinner; still, he thought he’d prepare for it, regardless.
The music still played on the radio, albeit softer, as Draco descended the stairs. It made Sirius look up from where he was standing by the kitchen table, his own tea already steeping in his mug.
He took a moment to look Draco over, trying to gauge his state of mind. Eventually, his eyes dipped, gesturing to the variety of tea boxes he had pulled from the cupboards scattered over the table.
“There’s some tea for you to choose from,” he said, finding that to be the easiest way to break the vulnerability between them. “I can make some coffee, too.”

The kitchen, just like the hall, showed proof of a home that was used and lived in. Draco didn’t feel as nervous about touching things and while he still felt somewhat like walking on eggshells, he also felt certain that that was more due to his state of mind than any expectation Sirius had to him.
“Thank you,” Draco said with a soft smile, going to pick out a tea bag. He hadn’t known what to expect when he decided to go meet his mum’s estranged cousin, but this was far beyond anything that he would have dared to dream about.
“Tea is fine,” he stated as he finally picked a tea. He found the mug that Sirius had put out for him and prepared the tea before sitting down across from him at the table.
Now that he was more calm, Draco felt awkward about just barging in like this and causing a scene like this.
“It really means a loot.”

_________________

Sirius stayed standing for a moment, considering if he had anything else he could offer Draco, before finally abandoning the thought and joining him by the table.
Draco looked a bit better, having regained some colour in his cheeks. If Sirius had interpreted the context clues correctly, the hurt wouldn’t soothe any time soon, Draco would hopefully just learn to survive it.
Sirius sat forward leaned, turning the ring on his thumb. For a moment, they sat in silence, listening to the tail end of a Slade song.
“What brings you here, Draco?” Sirius eventually prompted, the infliction making it sound like he already knew.

The question wasn’t unfair, even if he felt certain that Sirius knew the circumstances that had let Draco to his doorstep. However, it also made sense that Sirius would want Draco to explicitly tell him what this was about and what was going on.
“My father is going to disown me,” Draco said with a shrug, having accepted the fact by now, but it was still painful to say the words. His gaze found his tea, feeling certain that he would start crying again if he were to look directly at Sirius.
“I’m gay and The Sun has found out,” he added, certain that there would be no big surprise in his statement, but it still felt difficult to admit it.
There had never been a lick of doubt in Draco’s mind that he had been gay, but with the realisation had also come the knowledge that he could never live like that. He had dated and had boyfriends, but it had also always been with disclaimer that they couldn’t be together in public.

_________________

Sirius nodded, compassionate to the situation. It had felt probable, even if Draco had kept it together better. There were little other things Sirius felt like warranted Draco reaching out for him, their situation superficially appearing to be identical.
He vividly remembered leaving home, and though he remembered the hurt he had felt leaving, Sirius had even then known he was better off disowned. Then again, he now knew that feeling of relief was greatly accredited to the fact that he had known where to go instead.
Sirius couldn’t even imagine the stress Draco was under for him to unload that burden on a complete stranger, and it worried that Draco seemingly didn’t think he could find that support elsewhere.
“Does your mother know?” Sirius asked, finding that to be a relevant distinction. Draco’s private life being reported by a tabloid was a curious addition to the situation, and yet Sirius chose not to pursue that tangent just yet.