Though Sirius had closed the door behind Draco, shutting out the buzz of traffic, the music playing from beneath them was almost enough to drown out the young man’s meeker responses.<br/>Being in no rush, Sirius readily allowed him a moment to settle himself. He recognized that particular look of heartbroken desperation in Draco’s eyes as he skimmed over the photographs covering the wall and stairway, making his stomach ache; in spite of that, Sirius found himself able to smile, joyous in its fragility.<br/>“My husband,” Sirius offered, not only as an act of superficial kindness but a reassurance he himself had wanted to receive when he was in Draco’s position. No matter the support Sirius had found in Alphard, his life was one of somber solitude; ever since, Sirius had found it impossible not to proudly and victoriously display the happiness he had found for himself, the wall nowhere large enough to contain it all. “He’s at work, still.”