Contrary to popular belief, Sirius actually didn’t mind returning home for one reason and one reason only.

There was always a feeling of dread that settled deep in his stomach whenever a letter landed on his plate before breakfast, his family wax seal glaring back at him like some sort of sick joke. He knew what it was every single time because his mother only wrote to him when she needed him back home for whatever reason. 

He hated it. He hated every second he had to spend in that house. He hated the way he would be goaded and mocked and provoked. He hated the remarks his family would make about the people he cared about. He hated that he had to spend any extended amount of time with the people who were only connected to him through blood. 

But the one saving grace was that he would always come back to you. 

You always hated that you could never join Sirius back home, to be there for him and comfort him and be the rock he needed to remember that he was more than his twisted, fucked up family. You hated the nights he was away because there was no way of contacting each other, no way of knowing if he was okay or if he would even return. 

And, even if it made him seem a little fucked in the head, Sirius adored going home for the simple reason that you were all over him the second he was back. You wouldn’t let him out of your sight, you would be glued to his side and he loved it more than words could explain. 

He loved that he had someone who wanted him that much, even if he was gone just for a few days.

“Sweetheart,” Sirius let out an amused chuckle as your hands dipped under the fabric of his shirt, winding your arms around his waist. “We gotta go for dinner."