Thoughtlessly, Harry nodded, a small acknowledgement of Draco’s words. It made sense that he hadn’t visited in ages, the house having been all but abandoned for years between the death of Walburga and the second war. It hadn’t been a home worth visiting.<br/>Harry wasn’t sure it was now, either, but it was his house, and he couldn’t wait to see how Draco looked in it, an urge to experience him in every room creeping down his spine.<br/>“Come on in, then,” Harry invited, stepping backwards far enough to gesture into the room to his left, the living room dining room facing the street. Harry had done very little to the house, wood trim and wall papers their original dark tones, but contrary to the narrow entryway, the room had windows, the room illuminated by the August sun.<br/>A joke pulled at Harry’s lip, finding it hard not to grin. “Make yourself at home.”