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Hiraeth (Welch): A kind of homesickness which is a combination of the homesickness, longing, nostalgia, and yearning, for a home that you cannot return to, no longer exists, or maybe never was.
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Harry hated cleaning Grimmauld. And it always seemed that no matter how much cleaning he did, more junk (half of it cursed) appeared to replace it.
He forced himself to set aside two hours every Saturday morning for cleaning, someday this house would be worth living in and having guests in.
This particular morning, Harry was working in the hideous study, cleaning out the desk and thinking that he really ought to tear out the carpet and take down the wall paper, when he accidentally knocked over a small bust of Merlin only knew which Black. A heartbeat after the bust was knocked over, a panel on the wall scraped open.
That was interesting.
With a bit of caution, which was warranted given how many things had attempted to kill and maim him in this house, Harry made his way over and peeked inside of what appeared to be a cupboard of some sort. Inside was a pensive with a shelf above with memories floating in vials. Many weren’t labeled at all but there were some that were labeled in Sirius’ familiar script.
One sitting right in the front, as though it had been placed there for him, was labeled Harry. There were several memories swirling together in this one and Harry found himself reaching out and pouring it into the pensive without really thinking about it.
A moment later he plunged his head into the pensive.
He looked around when he landed and saw that he was standing in his parents’ home in Godric’s Hollow. His mum was sitting on the couch with her feet propped on the coffee table rubbing at the side of her very pregnant belly.
Sirius was kneeling on the floor next to her, rubbing his hand over the other side, “And I am going to be your favorite uncle,” he promised. “I’m the cool one, I’ll teach you how to ride my motorbike and help you with your boy trouble.”
“His boy trouble?” his mum asked, obviously amused.
“Well, I can’t very well help him with his girl trouble.”
His mum laughed and brushed her fingers through Sirius’ hair. “I suppose you’re right about that.
"He’s kicking,” Sirius crowed, rubbing his thumb over his mum’s belly. “Hi, Harry,” he said. “It’s your uncle Padfoot,” he informed him, leaning closer and putting his mouth almost against her belly, “I love you and I cannot wait to meet you.”
——–
The scene faded and was replaced by the next one.
“He’s perfect, Prongs,” Sirius murmured and Harry saw that he was standing in a hospital room. His mum was sitting up in a bed, looking tired but smiling so wide that Harry’s mouth ached in sympathy. Sirius and his dad were standing close together, a baby held securely in Sirius’ arms and his dad hovering near his head.
“Yeah,” his dad whispered in reply, sounding genuinely choked up as he brushed his fingers over the baby’s downy head.
“Look at his tiny fingers,” Sirius said. “He’s got your eyes, Lily,” he added.
Harry watched as the baby wrapped Sirius forefinger in his little fist.
“Oh Godric,” he murmured. “I’m gone on him,” he said, looking up at James and Lily. “I love him more than life itself.”
“We feel the same,” his mum replied, smiling. “James, you should tell him.”
His dad covered his mouth with his hand and shook his head as though he couldn’t manage any words.
“Tell me what?”
“We want you to be Harry’s Godfather,” his mum said.
“Really?” Sirius whispered looking back and forth at his mum and dad like he could hardly believe they were serious.
“Yeah,” his dad said, patting his shoulder, “Yeah, of course.”
Sirius looked down at the baby in his arms and Harry watched a tear track down his cheek, “You hear that, Harry?” he murmured. “I’m your Godfather. I’ll never let anything bad happen to you,” he promised.
——-
Godric’s Hollow came back into view and Sirius was sitting on the couch, his arm around Remus’ shoulders while Remus fed Harry a bottle.
“You’re just a little angel, aren’t you?” Remus cooed at him. “Just the most perfect, beautiful baby anyone has ever seen.”
The baby kicked his feet.
“We’ll teach you how to get up to mischief,” Sirius promised. “Don’t you worry. You’ll get to inherit everything we’ve learned, you’re going to make the best prankster imaginable.”
Remus huffed, “But you’ll be good to Minerva, won’t you? She had more than enough trouble with your dad and uncles.”
The baby finished the bottle and Remus sat him up, holding him over his shoulder as he lightly patted the baby’s back. “I know things are a little scary right now,” Remus murmured and Harry for the first time wondered where his parents were, if they were on a mission for the order at the moment, “But everything’s going to be okay. You’ll see.”
Sirius rubbed Remus’ neck soothingly, “Everything’s going to be okay,” he repeated but his face looked as weary and worn as Remus’ did.
——–
“Come on, Harry! You can do it!” Sirius cheered and Harry shaded his eyes to see the back garden better. Sirius was squatted a few feet away from his dad who was steadying the baby as he apparently thought about walking. “Come on,” Sirius said again, holding out his arms.
With a little giggle, the baby started to toddle unsteadily across the distance to Sirius. Sirius caught him and scooped him up in his arms, swinging him as he stood before pulling him in to smother him with kisses.
The baby giggled and grabbed at Sirius sunglasses, pulling them off his face.
“Ah, here, allow me,” Sirius said, as he put them on the baby instead with a big smile. “Already developing better taste than your dad, I see.”
“Oy,” his dad called from where he stood with his arm around his mum’s waist, stealing her glass of iced tea.
“I can’t believe how big you’ve grown,” Sirius murmured.
“Us either,” his mum replied. “It’s all gone so quickly. At this rate we’ll be watching him head off to Hogwarts tomorrow.”
“We’ll all be there,” Sirius promised, pressing a kiss to the baby’s chubby cheek.
——–
The baby was a bit older in the next memory, and Harry knew there wasn’t much longer left before the inevitable.
“I don’t know how to do this,” Sirius said, he was holding the baby in his arms, swaying back and forth, and Harry could hear the unshed tears in his voice.
“Be our secret keeper,” his dad insisted. “Sirius we trust you with our lives, we trust you more than anyone.”
“I can’t,” he said, shaking his head. “Dumbledore said it himself, they’ll know it’s me.”
“Then stay here,” Lily pleaded. “Just stay with us. Help us keep Harry safe.”
“I would,” Sirius said, “You know I would if I could. The Order won’t allow it, they need more people to be able to go out on missions.”
His dad nodded, scuffing the toe of his trainer over the carpet and it struck Harry how young they were. Harry was older now than his parents had lived to be.
“How am I supposed to say goodbye?” Sirius asked, pressing his forehead into the baby’s dark curls.
“It’s not goodbye,” his mum said fiercely. “We can’t think like that. It’s just for a little while. It’s just a see you later.”
Sirius nodded and pressed a long kiss to the baby’s forehead, “See you later, love,” he murmured. “I’ll miss you every second.”
————
Harry was snapped out of the pensive and he stood still for a long moment, in what must have been shock, before he realized that he was crying. It took another second to realize that his entire body was shaking as he was overcome with a sense of grief that he thought he’d long since buried.
He was overwhelmed by the longing to have a home, to have a place where people loved him and cared about him, a home were people wanted to protect him and be sure he was safe. It was a longing that he’d felt from the core of his being for as long as he could remember. And in these memories he’d had that.
He’d had so many people who loved him, so many people desperate to keep him safe, desperate to watch him grow up, and he’d lost it before he’d ever really known it.
The injustice, the hurt, the loneliness, and every moment that he’d ever desperately wished to be loved welled up inside of him at once and he couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t think. It was like he was being pounded by waves in the ocean and he couldn't make it up for air.
Harry couldn’t stay here, he pulled out his wand and apparated.
He’d intended to go to Ron and Hermione’s, or maybe even the Weasley’s but that was not where he ended up. No, Harry ended up in the front yard at his auror partner’s house, sobbing and gasping for air.
“What the-” he heard and looked over to see that Draco was out working in his Garden, “Potter? What-” he started as he got closer. “Are you alright?”
Harry shook his head but couldn’t manage to get any words out.
“Are you hurt?”
He shook his head again, “I didn’t mean-”
“Alright,” Draco said softly, wrapping a protective arm around him before Harry could even finish his sentence, “Come on. Come inside.”
Harry could only nod, trying to make his feet move in spite of their numbness.
“You’re shaking,” Draco murmured as he guided him inside of the cozy cottage, all full of sunlight and fresh air. “You’re sure you’re not hurt?”
“Yes,” Harry whispered, voice still raw.
Draco nodded, “Let’s have some tea, yes?” he asked, guiding Harry into the sunny yellow kitchen. “Here,” he said, pulling out a chair and settling Harry into it before moving to prepare tea.
Harry took the few moments of relative privacy to try to get himself under control, to try to reign in all of the feelings. He was certain that he would feel embarrassed about this later; this wasn’t a great look for someone you were a little bit in love with to see.
By the time Draco turned around and brought the mugs of tea over, his breathing had even out a bit and he wasn’t sobbing anymore. Draco set a cup of tea in front of him, “Here you go,” he murmured before sitting down in the chair next to Harry instead of across from him.
“Thank you,” Harry managed as he took a sip of tea made just the way that he liked it.
“Don’t mention it,” he said, he reached over and rubbed soothing circles on the center of Harry’s back as Harry drank his tea. He didn’t push or ask any questions, he was just quiet, just there with him as Harry’s heart slowly came down to a normal pace and he finally managed to stop crying. “There we are,” he said.
“Sorry,” Harry whispered, feeling embarrassed and foolish and raw. “I didn’t even mean to come here,” he confessed.
“Well, I’m glad you did,” Draco told him and for some reason, Harry believed him. “I’ve got some ginger biscuits in, if you’d like?”
“I shouldn’t impose-”
“It’s no imposition,” Draco said, standing up and reaching for the cookie jar. He set them out, offering it to Harry before taking a couple himself.
Harry nibbled at his biscuit, not really sure what to say.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Draco asked. “You don’t have to, of course, but I can be quite a good listener.”
They’d been partners for three years at this point, so Harry knew it was true that the other man was an excellent listener. After a moment debating where to start, Harry confessed, “I always felt like there was something wrong with me.” He stared down at the biscuit in his hands for a moment, “When I was little,” he swallowed and set down his half eaten biscuit. “My aunt and uncle didn’t want me and they weren’t shy about letting me know.”
Draco frowned, “Then why did you live with them? Surely there were no shortage of wizarding families who-”
“I had to,” Harry said. “In her death, my mother’s magic protected me. It’s why Voldemort couldn’t kill me. Because my aunt Petunia shared my mother’s blood, as long as I lived with them I was protected.”
“Alright,” Draco said, nodding once and apparently accepting that answer without any other questions, which Harry was grateful for.
“They didn’t want me and they didn’t love me,” Harry continued, “and I just really wanted to be loved, you know?”
Draco nodded, “Yeah, of course,” he said as though Harry was being totally reasonable right now.
“I always imagined that I’d had parents who loved me,” he said. “Like I always imagined that Lily and James Potter were completely besotted with me; they literally died trying to protect me. And I’ve had it confirmed by people throughout my life in a casual sort of way.”
Draco nodded again, “But you’ve just had it confirmed in a more tangible way?” he guessed.
Harry nodded and felt a tear slip down his cheek. “I found some of Sirius memories when I was cleaning today,” he said.
“That’s fascinating,” Draco replied.
“Yes,” Harry agreed, “And there was a vial with my name on it, so I poured them into the pensive and took a look.” Draco waited patiently as Harry tried to calm himself enough to get the next words out. “They were all of me as a baby,” he finally managed in a whisper. “Of him with me, of my mum and dad, and Remus. And they all-” he choked on the words. He could hardly get them out, “They all loved me so much,” he managed.
Draco took his hand.
“And I can’t even remember-” he couldn’t manage another word before the waves of grief rolled through his soul once more.
“Oh, love,” Draco murmured as he stood and moved to wrap his arms around Harry, holding him and letting him cry against his stomach.
“It’s not fair,” Harry finally managed.
“No, it’s not,” Draco agreed, one of his hands stroking through Harry’s hair. “It’s not fair at all.”
When Harry finally got himself under control once more, Draco drew back and sat down in the chair beside him.
“Sorry,” Harry said, feeling miserable, and drained, and exhausted.
“You’ve nothing to apologize for,” Draco said as he took another biscuit.
Harry sighed and ran his fingers through his hair, “I just thought that I’d stopped grieving this.”
“Do we ever really stop grieving the people we love?”
“It’s not just the people, though,” Harry said, shaking his head. “It’s that I had a home, I had a place where people loved me and cared about me. If I’d fallen and scraped a knee in that home, I would have had adults clambering over themselves to fix it. I would have been tucked in at night, and someone would have read me stories. I would have always had enough to eat and I would have had clothes that fit me and toys that weren’t broken. There are a million things that could have been that I’ll never know.”
“I’m sorry,” Draco said softly, “I can’t imagine what that must feel like.” He put his hand over Harry’s, his thumb rubbing soothingly over Harry’s knuckles.
Harry nodded once, trying very hard not to start crying again because three times felt like it might be a bit ridiculous for one day.
“There are people who love you now, though,” Draco said gently. “And I know it doesn’t change the past, and it doesn’t make this hurt any less, but you have people who love you. And I’m sure that someday, you’ll live with someone who loves you, someone who wants to protect you and comfort you when you’re hurt, someone who wants to share their life with you.”
Harry scoffed, “I have my friends but there’s no one who would want that with me.”
“There are loads of people who would want that with you,” Draco said, rolling his eyes as if Harry was being ridiculous.
“Not people who actually know me,” Harry argued. “Sure, there are people who want me because I’m Harry Potter but no one who wants me because I’m just Harry.”
“That’s not true,” Draco replied.
“Name one person who wants that life with me because I’m just Harry and not the savior,” he challenged. “One, single person and I will go out right now and move in with them. Tell me one name of someone who would want this,” he said, gesturing at himself, “Who wants all of this mess, all of this baggage, and traum-”
“Me,” Draco finally exploded. “I want that with you. I want to protect you and comfort you when you’re hurt. I want to make you tea in the evening before bed and I want you to wake me up with coffee in the morning. I want to spend every moment with you, celebrating your successes and weeping with you about what makes you sad. I want that.”
Harry blinked at him, a bit (alright, a lot) shocked.
“And I know that it’s stupid and you don’t want that with me, because, well,” he shook his head. “There are a million reasons you shouldn’t, but you said one person and I want you to know that it’s more than possible for someone to know you and want that with you.”
“You do?” Harry asked.
“Do you think I would have told you that I did if I didn’t?”
Harry felt a little smile tugging at the corner of his lips, “I would like that with you, too.”
“What?”
Harry shrugged one shoulder, “I’ve been a little in love with you for like a year,” he confessed, feeling brave now that Draco had already told him how he felt.
Draco smiled a shy little smile at him, “Maybe we should go on a few dates before you move in, for appearance’s sake,” he joked.
He laughed, but then actually considered it, “Do you care about appearance’s sake? We already know that we work together, we already know that we’re good at spending time together,” Harry replied. “I know more about you than I’ve ever known about anyone I’ve dated.”
“Do you really want to move in with me? Already?”
Harry shrugged, “I mean, you’ve got a second bedroom, right? We wouldn’t have to rush into anything. Just,” he swallowed and he reached over and took Draco’s hand, “Wouldn’t it be nice to come home at night to someone who cares about you?”
“Yeah,” the other man agreed with a smile, “Yes it would.”
“Yeah?” Harry asked, feeling hopeful.
He nodded, “Yes, of course. Merlin, of course you can move in,” he said with a laugh.
“I’d like very much to kiss you if you’d be amenable to that,” Harry said.
“I’d like that, too,” Draco said, with a breathless little smile.
Harry leaned across the corner of the table, cupped Draco’s cheek in his palm, and pressed a soft kiss to his lips.
When he pulled back Draco’s eyes were still closed and he murmured, “I’m going to need you to do that again.”
Harry grinned and obliged him.
“Again,” Draco breathed.
Harry leaned in and took Draco’s bottom lip between his, sucking lightly before brushing his tongue over it. Draco let out a soft sigh and his fingers clenched in the fabric of Harry’s t-shirt.
“Again,” Draco whispered when Harry pulled back.
He smiled and let his finger’s slide in Draco’s hair, tilting his head slightly as he slotted their lips together. He slowly explored Draco’s mouth and Draco explored his in turn, they kissed slowly, luxuriously. Hands brushed over necks, cheeks, shoulders, and backs as they carefully learned their way around each other.
Draco was the first to pull back this time and Harry’s eyes fluttered open to look at him, his cheeks flushed and lips red. “You are so beautiful,” Harry murmured.
He looked down at the table, smiling shyly, “We should start getting you moved in.”
“I’d like nothing better,” Harry replied with a big smile of his own.
And while moving in with Draco didn’t give him back the home he’d lost, it did give him a place where he belonged. It gave him a place where he could receive the love he’d longed for and give all of the love he’d always wanted to. It wasn’t perfect and it wasn’t always easy, but it was home and Harry wouldn’t have traded it for anything.