Alcohol is a dangerous thing
At eight o’clock Saturday evening, Harry opened the portrait hole to find Draco, Blaise, and Daphne waiting outside, as arranged.
“Well, fancy seeing you here,” he said brightly. “Come on in, we’re just getting started.”
The Slytherins followed Harry through the portrait hole, looking around. They’d never seen the inside of Gryffindor Tower before. It was very crowded and noisy tonight - a record player was playing in a corner, manned by Dean Thomas. A table full of drinks was set up along one wall, and clearly, most people had already had at least one or two.
“Where did you get a record player?” Draco asked.
Harry shrugged. “There’s been one up here for ages. If Sirius is to be believed, Remus brought it to school with him and it’s been here since. Mostly used for parties.”
“Of course it is,” Blaise said, rolling his eyes. “What drinks have you got? If I’m going to be in Gryffindor Tower I want to get pissed.”
Harry shrugged. “No clue, that wasn’t my job.”
“Well, come on, Blaise,” Daphne said, grabbing his wrist and pulling him away. “Let’s go find out.”
Harry and Draco watched them leave, then turned to each other.
“You want to go find out too, or are you still determined to not get drunk?” Harry asked, grinning.
“I said I’m not going to get pissed, not that I’m not going to drink anything,” Draco said haughtily. “They’d better be good drinks, though.”
They were very good drinks. Draco still didn’t have a clue what it actually was that he was drinking, but it tasted good and was strong, so it worked for him. He was, in fact, taking it fairly slow. He was still sipping at his first drink, watching the chaos around him with amusement.
Harry was not taking it slow. He’d had at least four drinks already, a fifth in his hand. The music had been steadily growing louder over the past hour, and even Hermione had joined the fray. She was not nearly as drunk as everyone else, but she was on her second drink and seemed to be nearing the bottom of it. Ron was drunker than Harry, and kept trying to get Hermione to join him in a snogging session, but she wasn’t having it. Draco had no clue where Daphne and Blaise had gone.
Harry had been standing with Ron and Hermione, talking loudly and animatedly and decidedly ignoring Ron’s attempts to seduce Hermione. At that moment however, he turned and locked eyes with Draco. Immediately, he abandoned Ron and Hermione and made his way over.
“Hello, lover,” he said, too loudly for how close he and Draco were, and threw an arm around his shoulders. “Having fun?”
“Sure,” Draco said, eyeing him with amusement. “How drunk are you?”
“I’m not…I’m not drunk at all,” Harry said. He was immediately disproven as he stumbled slightly, only staying upright because of his grip on Draco.
“Sure you’re not,” Draco said, fighting a smile now. “Why’d you ditch Ron and Hermione?”
Harry shrugged. “They were boring.”
Draco snorted. “Were they, now.”
“Yep,” Harry said lightly. “Ron just keeps talking about…snogging. They like to snog.”
“I can see that,” Draco said, nodding towards Ron and Hermione who were, indeed, kissing now.
Harry immediately looked mildly panicked. “Should we be snogging? Is that what boyfriends do at parties, stand in the middle and snog? I’ve never had a boyfriend at a party.”
Draco shrugged. “Sometimes they do, clearly. But that’s not what everyone does. We don’t have to. Besides, you’re very drunk and I’m not, so I’d probably rather not right now.”
Harry almost pouted. He stood in silence for a few minutes, looking around the room at what everyone else was doing. Then he turned back to Draco.
“It’s too loud in here,” he declared. “It’s making my head hurt. We should go on a walk.”
“A walk?” Draco asked, brow furrowed.
“A walk!” Harry said enthusiastically. “We can go… go outside. And walk.”
“I don’t know that you’re capable of much walking right now,” Draco said, as Harry lost his balance and he had to catch him again. “Besides, it’s past curfew, we’d get caught.”
“No we wouldn’t,” Harry said, waving him off. “Moony is keeping McGonagall away. We can do whatever we want.”
Draco snorted. “Okay, sure. We can go for a walk. I’m not helping you down any stairs, though, find something interesting on this floor to walk around.”
Harry immediately brightened. “The Room of Requirement is on this floor! We can walk around in there!”
“Alright,” Draco shrugged. “Don’t puke on me, though.”
The pair crossed the common room and climbed out through the portrait hole. Their departure went unnoticed by anyone, considering Draco was the only one that wasn’t completely drunk. Harry leaned heavily on Draco while they walked, his arm still around his shoulder. Fortunately, the Room of Requirement was not very far away. Harry stumbled past it three times, then pushed the door open.
Inside was a clearing, with a small path around the perimeter and a pond in the middle. On the outside of the path were trees, which seemed to stretch for miles.
“How far do those trees actually go?” Draco asked in surprise. He’d never seen the room do anything like this.
“I dunno,” Harry shrugged. “We could find out.”
“No,” Draco said sternly. “We are staying on the path. I’m not getting lost in the woods or fishing you out of that pond.”
“Alright,” Harry said agreeably.
He and Draco started walking. It was quiet at first, but not an awkward quiet. It was peaceful, and comfortable, if you ignored the fact that Harry kept stumbling. At some point, his arm dropped from Draco’s shoulders and found his arm, holding it like a lifeline. Then he almost tripped off the path, and Draco caught his hand, and they’d simply never let go. As they walked, Draco became aware that Harry was staring at him.
“What?” he asked, immediately self-conscious.
Harry shrugged. “You have very pretty eyes.”
Draco stared at him, startled. “Pretty eyes?”
“Yeah,” Harry said, staring right into them. “They’re very… blue. But only sometimes. Sometimes they’re grey. Makes me think of the ocean.”
Draco laughed lightly. “Yours are very green. They make me think of a forest. Yours are very nice, too.”
Harry seemed to consider this, then shook his head. “Yours are nicer. And you have… your hair. It’s so blond. And soft. And straight. And your, um, your jaw. And your nose. Your face is a nice shape. And your arms feel… very strong.”
Draco snorted, but Harry was apparently not done.
“And you’re a bit taller than me,” he said, growing more enthusiastic. “But not as tall as Ron. Ron’s a giant. But you’re just a very… very good height. And you say really mean things to me sometimes, and it’s funny. And you make stupid jokes. And you made those badges to make fun of me in fourth year, not sure why you had to mock me to boost Cedric, I wasn’t even involved, but whatever. And you made badges to make fun of Ron, too. You’re very… you make badges a lot. Very artsy.”
Draco was fully laughing now. He couldn’t help it. “Me being mean to you makes the list of good things?”
“Yeah,” Harry said, nodding. “It’s… you’re not really mean, you just say mean things to make everyone think you’re mean. But you can be really nice, too. But it’s funnier when you’re mean. And it makes Ron and Hermione confused, even more now, since we’re dating and they think it’s weird that you’re mean to me when I’m your boyfriend. But I think it’s fun. We’re always mean to each other, it’s like a game.”
“It has made these past few years more interesting, I’ll give you that,” Draco said, still chuckling. “Don’t know what I would have done with all my free time if I didn’t have you to be mean to.”
Harry actually giggled here, a noise that Draco was sure he would not have allowed escape if he was fully in control of himself, and they lapsed back into comfortable silence.
“I don’t actually know all that much about you,” Harry eventually said. “I mean… I know how to piss you off. But I think that’s about it.”
“I don’t know much about you either,” Draco shrugged. “Besides all the You-Know-Who stuff, I mean.”
“That’s a problem,” Harry said, frowning. “Boyfriends should know everything about each other.”
“Not everything,” Draco said. “Everyone can have some things they keep to themselves.”
“But most things,” Harry insisted. “We need to get to know each other better. What… um, what’s your favourite…number?”
Draco let out a startled laugh. “My favourite number? I don’t think I have one.”
“Everyone has one,” Harry said confidently. “Mine’s 18.”
“Why 18?” Draco asked, amused.
“I dunno,” Harry shrugged. “When I was little it was because that was when I’d get to leave the Dursleys. And then it just stuck. It’s my favourite. What’s yours?”
Draco gave him an odd look at the mention of the Dursleys. He’d known, of course, that they weren’t particularly close, but it seemed odd that young Harry would have been counting down the years until he could leave. “Seven.”
“Why seven?” Harry asked. “Here, let’s sit.”
Without warning, Harry dragged Draco by the hand off the path and plopped them both down in the grass. Draco sat cross-legged, and Harry immediately flopped into his lap, closing his eyes.
“Why seven?” he repeated, when Draco didn’t immediately speak.
“It’s the most powerful magical number,” Draco said. “And I like the way it sounds.”
“Seven,” Harry said, apparently testing to see how the word sounded to him. “Seven, seven, seven, seven. It does sound nice. You ask a question now.”
Draco laughed. “What’s your favourite animal?”
“Chipmunks,” Harry said, with no hesitation. “They’re very small and cute. And they make… they make that funny little sound. And eat peanuts. And I like the little stripes on their backs.” Harry traced his hands through the air as if he were running his finger down a chipmunks back. “What’s yours?”
“I like swans,” Draco said. “They’ve very elegant.”
Harry snorted. “Of course you like swans.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Draco asked, faking offence. His hand was hovering over Harry’s head in his lap. It was right there. He could just… run his hands through his hair, and see if it was as soft as it looked. Harry had done it to his hair.
“That’s a very pretentious animal,” Harry said, opening his eyes to make a face at Draco. “It just seems like one you’d like. I bet your house has a big lake just full of swans.”
Draco let his hand drop into Harry’s hair, threading his fingers through it. It was definitely very soft. Softer than Draco had thought it would be. Harry closed his eyes again, apparently enjoying the sensation.
“For your information,” Draco said. “Malfoy Manor doesn’t have a lake. And we don’t have any swans, we have peacocks.”
Harry immediately burst out laughing. “You have peacocks? Who the hell just has peacocks? That’s so random!”
Draco shrugged, even though Harry couldn’t see him. “Father likes them, I suppose. I don’t think Mother’s very fond of them, though. Now you ask a question.”
“Hmmm…” Harry said. “Why’d your dad try to make you marry Pansy if he knows you don’t like girls?”
Draco hesitated. “He wants heirs, I guess. He didn’t exactly give me the full run-through of his reasons. I think he wants grandchildren, and he forgets there’s ways to get them even if I’m with a bloke. He’d prefer them to be blood, though.”
“Is he nice to you?” Harry asked, opening his eyes and twisting to look up at Draco, though he did not lift his head from Draco’s lap. “Other than trying to make you marry Pansy, I mean.”
“Mostly,” Draco nodded. “I know he and Mother both love me very much, and I don’t think that the betrothal came from an entirely malicious place. He just has his plans for me, and doesn’t like when I deviate from them. He can get a bit harsh sometimes, but I suppose all parents do.”
Harry hummed lightly, settling back in.
“That was two questions,” Draco said, lightly tugging on Harry’s hair. “Now I get to ask you some.”
“Fire away,” Harry said with a soft, contented sigh. “I guess you get two now, too.”
“Do you like living with Professor Lupin?” Draco asked.
“Yeah,” Harry said earnestly. “He and Sirius are great. I love them a lot, and I know they love me, too. It’s a nice feeling, knowing someone loves you.”
“Yeah, it is,” Draco agreed. “Okay, second question.”
He hesitated for a moment before asking. It felt almost like crossing a line - Harry was drunk, and Draco couldn’t be sure that this was information he’d want him to know if he wasn’t. But he couldn’t stop the question from tumbling out.
“Why were you so eager to leave the Dursleys?”
Harry shrugged. “They weren’t very nice. I didn’t like them very much. They didn’t like me at all. They don’t like magic, and my aunt Petunia didn’t like my mum at all. Liked to tell me we were all freaks. I got in trouble if I did any magic, even though I didn’t even know what magic was. They liked to lock me in my cupboard.”
“Cupboard?” Draco asked, before he could stop himself. His mouth had gone dry - this was not at all the answer he was expecting.
“Hm,” Harry nodded. “Under the stairs. Locked me in there for a couple days if I did magic.”
“Did they let you out for… for food, and things?” Draco asked, properly horrified.
“Hmm, no, not usually,” Harry said, apparently without even realising it.
Draco was silent for a moment, and Harry’s eyes abruptly flew open as his drunken mind caught up with the conversation. He sat up, pushing away from Draco and to his feet.
“We should… we should go,” he said, not looking at Draco. “They’ll… Hermione, and… and Ron, they’ll be wondering where we are. I’m going to… I’m going back.”
Before Draco had even gotten to his feet, Harry had stumbled out of the room, not looking back.
-{}-{}-{}-
Harry didn’t come down to breakfast the next morning, something that Draco immediately noticed and was concerned about. Ron and Hermione were there, but they also seemed concerned, looking around the room as though hoping Harry would appear.
“I’ll be right back,” Draco murmured to Blaise and Daphne, before standing up and crossing the hall.
“What?” Ron said, somewhat aggressively, the moment Draco drew near.
“Where’s Harry?” Draco asked.
“He’s still in bed,” Hermione said. “Says he’s got a horrible hangover. Where did you two go last night?”
“Room of requirement,” Draco said, brushing it aside. “But is he…okay?”
“He was acting kind of weird,” Ron said. “Did something happen? He was really agitated when he showed back up, wouldn’t talk to anyone and just went straight to bed.”
“He…” Draco hesitated. He didn’t know what Ron and Hermione knew of the Dursleys, and didn’t want to tell them anything that Harry hadn’t. “We just talked, he’d said the common room was too loud so we went to go walk around and talk. I’ll… I’ll ask him about it, if I see him later.”
“Yeah, us too,” Hermione said. “We’ll let you know if he tells us anything, so you know he’s okay.”
“Thanks,” Draco said, giving them a tight smile and turning back to his own table.
As he crossed the hall, he saw Lupin leaving it. Draco hesitated for a moment, then followed. He didn’t know exactly how upset Harry would be about what he’d said the night before, and figured if anyone would know, it would probably be Remus and Sirius.
The door to the office opened immediately after Draco knocked on it. Remus smiled at him.
“Draco, come in,” he said kindly. “Would you like some tea? I was just making some for Sirius and I.”
Sirius was sitting in the chair behind the desk. He gave Draco a sort of salute as he entered.
“Uh, sure,” Draco said. He was uncharacteristically nervous. He had to consciously stop himself from fiddling with the sleeves of his robes. Hesitantly, he sat in a chair in front of the desk, across from Sirius. “I just… I wanted to talk to you about Harry, if that’s okay?”
“We know that’s all fake,” Sirius said. “Harry told us already.”
“Oh, no, he told me, too,” Draco said hurriedly. “No, I just… I’m a little worried about him?”
Remus turned away from the kettle, and Sirius sat up straighter, both immediately on high alert.
“Why?” Remus asked sharply.
“Did something happen?” Sirius asked, making to stand. “Where is he?”
“No, no, nothing… nothing like, life-threatening or anything,” Draco hurried to say. “Ron and Hermione say he’s in his dorm still. I just… well, we were talking at the party last night, and he said a couple things that I just… wanted to ask you guys about, I guess.”
The adults both relaxed, though not by much.
“What did he say?” Remus asked.
“Well, we were talking about our families, you know,” Draco said. “I mean… okay, Harry was really drunk, you know, and I wasn’t, but he said we should get to know each other because ‘boyfriends should know everything about each other,’ and he said something about… about his aunt and uncle.”
Remus stiffened. Sirius audibly growled. Draco looked a bit startled.
“So… so you do know about them, then?” Draco asked weakly.
“How much do you know about them?” Remus asked carefully. “We were under the impression he hadn’t told anyone anything about them.”
“Well, that’s sort of the thing,” Draco said. “I don’t think I actually know very much about them, but he told me about being locked in a cupboard with no food, and that they didn’t like magic, and called him names and things. But he didn’t mean to tell me any of that, and that’s what I’m worried about.”
“Why did he, if he didn’t mean to?” Sirius asked. “That seems like something that’s hard to let slip.”
“Like I said, he was really drunk,” Draco said. “And he asked me about my family, so I just returned the question, but he’d already said something about wanting to leave the Dursleys so after he told me about you two I asked him why he was so eager to leave them. I really didn’t mean to pry into his private stuff or anything, it just seemed like a weird thing to say, and we were going back and forth with questions, you know? And he just kind of started talking, I don’t think he really realised what he was saying, but after he said it he kind of panicked and left, and Ron and Hermione say he went straight up to his dorm without talking to anyone and then wouldn’t come to breakfast or anything. I just… I know I wouldn’t want anyone knowing stuff like that, and I feel really bad that I sort of made him talk about it, especially since he was drunk and I wasn’t.”
Sirius sighed. “I’ll go talk to him.”
Remus nodded at him, then sat in a chair next to Draco, handing him a cup of tea. Sirius left the room.
“Thank you for telling us,” Remus said gently. “You’re right that Harry doesn’t want people to know about that, so he’s probably just feeling embarrassed and a bit upset right now. Sirius will help him through it.”
“I just…” Draco couldn’t stop his fingers from twisting the hem of his sleeve around. “I don’t want him to think I was trying to get stuff out of him, or anything. I really didn’t mean to bring all this up, I wasn’t expecting him to say anything like that. But he caught me so off guard with what he did say, I kind of questioned him about it without really thinking. I didn’t mean to take advantage of him being drunk or anything.”
“I know you didn’t,” Remus said gently. “I’m sure Harry knows that, too. Just talk to him about it when you get the chance, he’ll understand. And don’t ask him about it anymore - if he wants to tell you more, he will, but don’t ask.”
“No, I won’t, I promise,” Draco said, shaking his head vigorously. He chewed on his bottom lip, unable to stop himself from worrying. “Just… do you think he’ll be mad at me?”
Remus looked at him for a moment, an odd look in his eyes, like he was trying to figure something out. “No, I don’t think so,” he said finally. “He must trust you to tell you about it, even if he was drunk, because I don’t think that’s the sort of thing someone he didn’t trust and like would be able to get out of him no matter what state he was in. And you must know by now that despite everything he’s been through, he’s a shockingly kind and forgiving person. He’s been in way worse situations and rows with Ron and Hermione before, and he managed to hold a grudge for about a week before they were fine again. I think Snape is the only person he’s ever been capable of really hating. Well, Voldemort too, maybe, but even that one’s more an abstract concept as opposed to real hate.”
Draco nodded slowly, staring down at his hands.
“When you talk to him,” Remus said after a moment. “Don’t give him pity. That will make him mad. It’s the main reason he doesn’t want people knowing - it was terrible, yes, and it’s something that we’ve been working through with him, but he’s not with them anymore and he’s much happier now. If there’s one thing he hates more than anything, it’s feeling like he’s being pitied.”
“I won’t,” Draco said firmly. “I don’t pity him, I’m just… glad that he’s not with them anymore.”
Remus nodded, sitting back in his chair and studying him for a moment. “You should know, too,” he said slowly. It sounded like he was weighing each word carefully before he said it. “Harry feels things very strongly. He doesn’t always realise what it is exactly that he’s feeling, but he gives his entire heart to everything he does. James - his father - was the same way. And it’s one of the things that I loved most about James, and that I do love most about Harry, but it also worries me sometimes. Because it means that when he loves someone, he gives his everything to that person, and to that love, and that’s a beautiful thing to see and experience. But it also means that when something hurts him, he feels it all the more deeply, even if he doesn’t often let people see it. He’s good at hiding the hurt, but he feels it deeply and sharply, and for a long time.”
Draco nodded slowly. “O…kay…”
Remus’s eyes became piercing. “I know that you and Harry are not actually dating each other, that it’s all got something to do with your father trying to arrange a marriage for you. I recognize and acknowledge that. But I’m giving you the same warning I gave him. This game you’re playing can become dangerous very quickly. When pretending to feel such strong feelings for someone, it’s very easy to forget that it’s supposed to be fake. Just… be careful. I don’t want either one of you getting hurt.”
-{}-{}-{}-
Sirius knocked lightly on the dormitory door before pushing it open. The curtains were drawn around Harry’s bed, hiding him from view.
“You awake, sleepyhead?” Sirius asked.
He only got a groan in response.
“Make room, I’m coming in,” Sirius said, pushing through the curtains.
Harry shuffled over, making a space for Sirius to sit cross-legged on his bed.
“How’re you doing?” Sirius asked, studying his godson’s face.
“I’m never drinking again,” Harry said firmly. “Whoever invented alcohol was a sadist.”
Sirius smirked. “You won’t feel this poorly afterwards if you don’t get completely wasted.”
Harry sighed. “I think I’d feel like shit regardless right now.”
Sirius’s smile dropped. He sighed. “Draco’s just been to see Remus and I,” he said gently.
Harry groaned again, flipping over to bury his head in his pillow.
“He’s very concerned,” Sirius began.
“God, I can’t believe I just said all that shit to him,” Harry complained into his pillow. “He’s going to be all weird about it now, all the pitying looks and acting like I’m made of glass or whatever.”
“I don’t think he will be,” Sirius said casually. “Actually, his main concern was that you’d be mad at him.”
Harry sat up immediately, giving Sirius an incredulous look. “Why the fuck would I be mad at him?”
Sirius fought a smile, and failed spectacularly. “He’s worried that he took advantage of your… inebriated state to force information out of you that you normally wouldn’t have given. He’s concerned that you’ll feel taken advantage of, or else like he betrayed your trust.”
“That’s stupid,” Harry declared. “We were asking each other questions, it’s not like he knew that apparently being drunk removes any and all filters I have. I didn’t even know that.”
“How did you not know that?” Sirius asked. “You’ve been drunk before.”
“Yeah, but I’m not normally having private, one on one get to know you conversations while I’m drunk,” Harry said, rolling his eyes. “It tends to be more of ‘shout along to the song and ramble nonsense to Ron and Hermione’ type conversations.”
“Fair enough,” Sirius shrugged. He paused for a moment, before ploughing on. “You know, I was in a very similar situation when I was your age. A bit younger, actually, I think.”
“You were?” Harry asked, surprised.
“Yeah,” Sirius said, smiling reminiscently. “For your dad’s seventeenth birthday. We threw a massive party, everyone got pissed, and then Remus and I wandered away on our own and started talking. He knew a lot about my family at that point, but there were certain things that I’d very carefully kept to myself, and one completely innocent question from him and I was spilling it all. Alcohol is a dangerous substance.”
Harry smiled weakly. “Yeah, it is. What happened?”
“Well, I reacted a lot like you are,” Sirius said. “And Remus reacted a lot like Draco is, I think. He was very worried that I was going to be mad at him about it, and I was worried that he might tell your dad and our friends about it, and everyone would start acting all weird about it.”
“Did they?” Harry asked.
Sirius smiled a bit sadly. “No. Remus never told another person any of what I had said to him, and he treated me exactly the same as he always had. We had one conversation about it, after we’d both stopped moping, and I actually told him a bit more about it. He asked me if I was okay, told me that he wouldn’t tell anyone else and that he was glad I could trust him, and that was that. He never pitied me, and he never treated me any differently.”
Harry looked down at his lap. “It’s not that I think Draco’s going to tell anyone else, I don’t think he would,” he said carefully. “It’s just… that’s all behind me, you know? I don’t live with them anymore, so it shouldn’t matter anymore, so what’s the point of telling people about it?”
“Harry,” Sirius said, his voice very serious. “You may not be living it anymore, but it very much does still matter. That kind of thing affects you for the rest of your life. It’s not fair, and it’s not pretty, but it does. And people knowing these things about you can help them help you when you’re having a bad day.”
“But it shouldn’t still be affecting me,” Harry argued. “Like I said, it’s all over with, so I should be able to just put it all behind me and move on.”
Sirius studied him for a moment. “Did you know that I can’t stand libraries?”
Harry looked up, startled. “What?”
“Yeah,” Sirius nodded. “I hate being in libraries. The smell of them, the tall bookshelves all around, just the general feeling of them. Do you know why?”
Harry shook his head.
“Because the night I ran away, in my fifth year, my mother tortured me in our family library,” Sirius said. “She wanted me to join Voldemort, and when I refused, she brought in the entire family and they all took turns, using some pretty nasty curses. That was over twenty years ago, and to this day, I get anxious being in a library.”
“But that makes sense,” Harry said. “They were torturing you. The Dursleys never-”
“Harry, the Dursleys did a lot of terrible things to you,” Sirius said firmly. “And it’s okay, it’s normal, for that to still have some effects. And people knowing those kinds of things can help you deal with those effects. Like how you’ve got food stashed away everywhere, and you get anxious in small spaces, and you don’t like being around people that are a lot bigger than you, and you panic if people start shouting at each other. Those are the effects of the trauma that they put you through.”
Harry looked down again, not meeting Sirius’s eyes. “I, uh… I didn’t know you’d noticed all that.”
“Yes, we did,” Sirius said, his voice gentle. “And I’ll tell you now, your friends have probably noticed it, too. Mine noticed all the things I did. And it’s normal, Harry. No, we don’t pity you for it. You were incredibly brave and strong, and you got through it then and you’re working through it now, but you’re going to have bad days. And when you do, having the people you care about and who care about you know about these things can help you get through them. You had a very traumatic past, Harry, and it’s nothing to be ashamed of. I’m not saying you have to go telling everything to everyone, I’d never tell you that, because there are things that I still haven’t even told Remus. But you don’t need to be embarrassed that Draco knows some of it. I don’t know everything about the dynamics between you two, but I can tell you that he cares about you a lot. He wouldn’t have been so worried if he didn’t.”
Harry sighed. “I know, logically, that you’re right. But it’s still just… hard.”
“That’s okay,” Sirius said. “You don’t have to talk to anyone right now. But when you’re ready to, have a talk with Draco. You don’t have to tell him anything you don’t want to, but I think it’ll help you both feel a lot better if you don’t just leave it to fester.”
“Yeah, okay,” Harry said. “I’ll talk to him later.”
“Good,” Sirius smiled at him, and pulled him into a hug. “I love you, pup.”
“Love you, too.”