Harry himself didn’t seem particularly burdened by the realization. He had always been aware, really, Sirius’ family weighing so much on him that Harry hadn’t ever really been able to shake the knowledge that Draco was family<br/>“He certainly didn’t,” Harry grinned, taking a step towards Draco, seeing him linger at the doorway with hesitancy. The invitation was genuine, but the house hadn’t ever really felt like Harry’s to begin with; even if it had, Kreacher had refused to leave, happy to remind Harry that this wasn’t his birthright.<br/>Coming to a stop a few feet ahead of Draco, Harry wondered if he really owed Kreacher the courtesy to allow him to serve them tea. Probably not. Now that Draco was within reach, tea was the last thing on Harry’s mind, and though he itched to cross the distance to be with him, really and /again/, he stalled, unable to commit to it. His eyes did dip to Draco’s lips, though, if only for a moment.<br/>“Would you like a tour?” he asked, coming across almost proper, the restrain seeping into his tone of voice. A giddy smile pulled at the corner of his mouth when he met Draco’s eye, inevitably. “I’m sure Kreacher will serve us tea in the palour.”