There's something about being at home that makes Harry afraid. It's not just the fear of his uncle finding a new thing to get mad at him for, but something else he can't pinpoint. He's constantly afraid at home. Sleeping is hard when it feels like someone could come in and hurt him at any given moment.
Harry finds it hard to breathe when he's at home, even if Number Four Privet Drive is spotlessly clean every day. He knows it's clean; he's the one that does most of the cleaning whenever he's not at school. And yet, it feels like the air is thick and dusty, and there are invisible hands wrapped around his throat.
Harry doesn't like being at home, because it doesn't really feel like home. There isn't really a place he can think of that he can call home. And that, despite his best effort to not think about it too much, makes him unbelievably sad.
Harry has been dating Draco for a year now. After a bunch of crazy people broke into their school near the end of year twelve, and Harry and Draco were forced to lock themselves in a cupboard together to stay safe, they ended up letting the heat of the moment convince them into confessing feelings they'd had for a long time.
After the adrenaline and fear disappeared, and the two sat in the cupboard waiting for something, a sign that they were safe to come out, Harry finally felt like he was somewhere close to being home. He was safe in Draco's arms. He realised then, that this is where he wanted to be forever. When Vernon was getting too much, being in Draco's arms was all Harry would need to feel safe.
But he didn't tell Draco that. Because telling someone about the abuse was the thing he was most afraid of. Maybe even more than he was afraid of his 'home'.
Draco knew that Harry had problems. Everyone did. But he knew that Harry was struggling, even if he refused to talk about it. There was something about the way Harry became more closed off when Draco walked him home after a date, something about the way simple touches seemed to startle Harry, even if he'd eventually lean into them like he'd never felt a loving touch before.
Draco gave all his love to Harry. He just didn't know when Harry was ready to do the same.
There are nights when Harry calls Draco around midnight, or later, his voice tear-stained and weak, and asks if he can come over. Even if, sometimes, Draco was fast asleep before the call, he'd always say yes, and always offer to come get Harry if he needed to be picked up. But Harry would say no, because he found the walk comforting.
And then, sometimes, there are nights where Harry calls Draco and almost begs to be picked up. Draco never asks questions when things like this happen. Instead, he just grabs his keys and walks out of the large manor, and drives to get his boyfriend. He hates the way Harry looks in pain every time this happens, but he doesn't ask questions.
Draco knows Harry, and he knows that Harry will talk about it eventually. The last thing he'd ever want is to make Harry feel like he's trapped, like he has to answer questions. The best thing he can do is be a safe space for Harry.
Harry, even though he'd never said it, felt at home with Draco. And he loved Draco more than anything for never prying, despite Harry never even trying to make himself look like he's not in pain.
It's cold and grey, and raining heavily, when Harry appears at Draco's door without warning. He called Draco when he got to the door, but aside from that, there was no real warning beforehand. His hair is wet and he's sniffling from the cold, but he hasn't said a word since he called.
Draco knows not to touch Harry when he gets like this, instead ushering him into the empty-seeming house quietly. It's two in the morning, and the whole world seems to be asleep. But Harry is there, wide awake, and Draco doesn't care at all that he's beyond tired. He wants Harry to be okay.
"Are you okay?" Draco asks, but Harry doesn't reply.
The two walk to Draco's room silently, and when the door closes and the lights are turned on, Draco can see how bad it really is. For once, there's something he really can't ignore, and he has to ask what happened.
Harry's nose is bleeding, his cheekbone forming a bruise, and his lip is split. He's not changed since he'd been hurt, so there's blood stains on his top. There's bruises wrapping around Harry's throat, dark and blotchy, and it looks painful. Draco can't begin to imagine how much pain his boyfriend is in.
"Harry.." He says slowly. "Is there more?"
Harry understands the question, though vague, and for the first time, he's okay with showing Draco the rest of the bruises. He takes his top off, resisting the urge to cower and hide himself in shame, and hates the way Draco's face falls, at the sight of the large bruises covering his chest. He doesn't want to, but he turns around to show Draco the boot-shaped bruises on his back.
"Oh, Harry." Draco says weakly.
"Can you just hold me, please?" Harry asks. He doesn't usually like to be touched when Vernon's hurt him, but his heart aches for tender kisses and warm arms around him more than anything right now. "Please?"
"Of course."
And Draco does, holding Harry as softly and gently as he possible can. The last thing he wants to do is hurt Harry even more. His arms are delicately wrapped around Harry's waist, trying to avoid touching the bruises.
"Can you come with me to the kitchen? I need to get you an ice pack and clean up your face."
"This is where I want to be." Harry refuses. "Where it's so sweet and heavenly."
"I need to take care of you, love."
"Later. Please." Harry pleads. "Just hold me for now, please?"
"Okay." Draco whispers, kissing Harry's forehead.
Harry feels tired, really tired, by the time Draco's eventually coaxed him into going to the kitchen. He sits on the island as Draco gets a few ice packs and wraps them in towels, handing them to Harry to put them on the bruises that hurt the most. Draco cleans up the blood and then makes Harry a cup of tea to soothe his sore throat.
"Will you tell me what happened?"
Harry is quiet as he explains that his uncle got mad at him, strangled him, punched him until he was on the floor and then kicked him until Harry couldn't breathe. His throat hurts, and he keeps drinking the tea in between his explanation, but Draco is patient and listens anyway.
"This happens every time you come here?"
"It's not always this bad." Harry says honestly, because it really isn't always this bad.
"That doesn't make it right."
It's only a minute later that Harry puts the cup of tea down and cries. He's never had someone comfort him the way Draco does, and has never had anyone tell him what Vernon does to him is wrong. He doesn't like letting people in, so no one gets the chance to tell him it's wrong.
It means a lot to him, that he was able to explain to his boyfriend what happens at home. And it means a lot to him when he's able to admit that no, Privet Drive isn't home. Being with Draco, having the blond hold him gently, is where home really is.
"Wait till you're eighteen." Draco promises. "Wait till you're eighteen and I'm taking you out of there. Just a few more weeks, okay?"
And it feels empty at the time, until July Thirty-First comes around and Draco picks Harry up from Privet Drive for the last time. Harry doesn't have much to take with him, but it's okay. He doesn't need much, when he's finally home.
This is where he needed to be.