Sirius’ eyes followed Draco’s to the pictures adorning the wall, proof of a life well lived. Scattered between them were pictures from their youth, both with friends and alone, though it was impossible for Sirius to tell if those even caught Draco’s eye. Sirius had been with Remus longer than he had been without him, and it had already been years since that balance had tipped.<br/>“Yeah.”<br/>Though reserved in its simplicity, Sirius’ answer wasn’t unkind. It was gentle, compassionate to the fact that the span of his relationship was greatly influenced by how early he had allowed himself that happiness, and tentative to say anything that might have Draco believe he had lost out on at that time.<br/>Sirius turned to look at Draco.<br/>There were a million different things his estranged cousin could reasonably have reached out to Sirius for, and yet that exact look of defeat displayed on Draco’s features gave away what had brought the man to Sirius’ doorstep. Intimately familiar with the scene, Sirius offered Draco the same kindness Alphard had offered him three decades prior without reservation.<br/>Reaching out for him, Sirius’ palm brushed across Draco’s shoulder blades, settling on the shoulder the man had turned towards him.<br/>“You’re alright,” Sirius repeated, for the third time within their brief conversation. This time, the meaning had shifted, an invitation for Draco to ease the burden he so visibly carried on his shoulders.<br/>His free hand, too, found Draco, wrapping his arm around him and pulling him into a hug.