AN: This one is for you, slash fans. ;)

Harry tensed a little when the bedroom door opened, but relaxed when he saw that it was just Sirius, and not Voldemort.

"Hey Harry," Sirius said, sliding into the room and shutting the door behind him. "Can I talk to you for a minute?"

"Sure thing," Harry agreed. He shut the copy of Quidditch Through the Ages he had been flipping through, and gestured for Sirius to take a seat on the unoccupied twin bed.

"Okay, well first thing," Sirius said with unusually solemn expression, "I wanted to make sure that you knew that, even though I haven't been able to be there for you as much as I would like, you're still very important to me and I care about you. And nothing you can say, or do, or tell me about yourself, will change that, okay?"

Even now, years after he had started going to Hogwarts and had made friends, and had met the Weasleys and Sirius and Lupin, Harry still wasn't entirely used to the notion of people actually liking him. So Sirius's words brought a flood of emotions up in his chest. "Okay," Harry said, voice a bit thick. "I care about you too."

"Good," Sirius said. He smiled and leaned over to ruffle a hand through Harry's already messy hair. "Now that I've said that, I wanted to talk to you about your new friend."

Harry groaned. "You mean Voldemort, who someone invited to come spend Christmas with us at Grimmauld Place" – Harry didn't know who yet, but he would find out, and then he was going to call in favour from Fred and George – "and who is now inexplicably allowed to sit in on Order meetings?"

"No, actually I was talking about Tom," Sirius corrected. "But it's good to hear you and Voldemort are getting on now."

So much for Sirius being able to see through Voldemort's not-disguise. "What about Tom?" Harry asked, resigned.

"I can't help but notice that you treat him… differently than all your other friends."

"Yeah, well he does want to murder me," Harry pointed out.

"Oh, is that what they're calling it nowadays?" Sirius said with a weirdly salacious grin.

"I think that's what they've always called it," Harry said, confused. Sure there were synonyms – kill, assassinate, slaughter – but as far as he knew, the word murder had always been a valid choice.

"No Harry," Sirius said, "I can guarantee you that back in my day we did not use 'murder' as a euphemism for having sex with our… er – significant others."

"What?" Harry yelped. "I'm not -"

Unfortunately Harry's protest was cut off when, in a coincidence of timing that was pretty much a perfect metaphor for Harry's life, Voldemort threw open the door to the room, screamed, "I'll get you this time Potter!" and then tackled Harry onto the bed.

Voldemort squirmed on top of Harry for a few seconds, reaching for the pillow behind Harry's head, most likely so he could use it to smother Harry with, before Sirius stepped in a bodily pulled Voldemort off.

"Curses!" shouted Voldemort.

"Okay," said Sirius, "just to be clear, I'm perfectly okay with this – as long as you guys are being safe, but could you not do it while I'm in the room?"

Voldemort looked over her shoulder at Sirius, who was still holding him back by the arms, and glared at him suspiciously. "You're okay me murdering your godson?"

"Absolutely," Sirius said with a decisive nod. Harry reconsidered the attractiveness of Voldemort's offer to smother him with a pillow.

"Do you want to help me murder him?" Voldemort asked tentatively.

"What? No!" Sirius exclaimed. "First of all, Harry's my godson. Secondly, you're both underage. Third, while I'm supportive of your lifestyle choices, I, personally, am not gay. And finally, I don't do threesomes unless there's at least one woman," he conclude firmly before turning to Harry. "Damn it, your boyfriend is fucking kinky."

"Boyfriend? What the hell is he talking about Potter?"

Harry sighed, because apparently this was his life. "He thinks we're gay for each other."

"Gay? The Dark Lord Voldemort is not gay!" Voldemort declared. "The closest I've ever come to being intimate with another man was when I was inside Quirrell."

"Ew, gross," Harry protested. "Now I'm picturing the two of you having sex."

"No! There was no sex. I'm talking about when I was possessing him. I was literally inside of him. Almost like two bodies joined into one."

"Why do you keep saying it like that?" Harry said, fighting the urge to cover his ears.

"I was an intangible entity," Voldemort further clarified. "And I was not romantically or sexually interested in him. The same could probably be said for Quirrell."

"Probably?" Harry asked.

"Well, it's not like I asked him. And I wouldn't want to presume," Voldemort said with a haughty sniff.

"Hold on," Sirius interrupted. "Back up a second. You…" he narrowed his eyes at Voldemort, "and the last guy you were with were into possession? Just how kinky is your boyfriend, Harry?"

"He is not my boyfriend," Harry said. "And I'm not gay."

Sirius turned his narrowed-eyed suspicion on Harry, "Siriusly?"

"Seriously," Harry said.

"No, you said it wrong," Sirius corrected. "It's siriusly."

"That's what I said, seriously."

"No, no, it's siriusly," said Sirius. "S-I-R-I-U-S-L-Y."

"But they both sound the same. You can't hear spelling," Harry said.

"No, he's right Potter," Voldemort interjected. "You're saying it wrong."

"Oh, murder you," Harry retorted.

"Harry! That's not a very nice thing to say to your boyfriend," Sirius reprimanded.

"He. Is not. My boyfriend," said Harry, being careful to annunciate each word.

"I'm sorry Tom," Sirius said sympathetically, which was rather strange looking, given that Sirius was still holding Voldemort's arms behind his back. "I'm sure some people just have a harder time coming out of the closet than others. He'll come around soon."

Voldemort looked at Sirius, a calculating expression on his face. "I bet it would help Potter feel better if I went over there and gave… my boyfriend a hug," he said, practically spitting the words "boyfriend" and "hug" out.

"You know, it probably would," Sirius said contemplatively.

"No Sirius, don't-"

But it was too late. Voldemort, grabbing a pillow beforehand this time, launched himself across the room and tackled Harry down to the bed again. He put the pillow over Harry's face and actually managed to successfully block off Harry's airflow…

… for about two seconds before Sirius was once again hauling him off.

"Siriusly guys! No having sex or trying to murder each other or whatever while I'm in the room!"

"Curses!"