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Summary
“This is where you’ve been living?” Potter asked quietly.
And as if it were a paid actor, a rat appeared from one side of Draco’s living room, paused in the middle of the floor to look up at them, then disappeared through a hole in the opposite wall.
“Why?” Potter turned to him with wide eyes.
Draco shrugged, “Told you my family didn’t want me to join the Aurors. And it’s not that bad, I promise,”
On cue, the rat reappeared from the hole in the wall, and sprinted in the direction of Draco’s tiny bathroom.
“Right!” Weasley said loudly, “Well! That’s that decided then. I think you’re coming to live with us, mate,”
And that was how Draco ended up living at number twelve Grimmuald Place.
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Draco and Harry were friends. That's all they were, and Draco needed to learn to be grateful for that fact, no matter how much he wanted to reach out and touch Harry at every opportunity.
Friends. It would have to be enough.