[for Sirius]
The new hut isn't new at all: smaller than the last and dusty from the sudden abandonment of its owner. Yesterday Remus moved most of his life here in his hamper, only to cart it back to the compound with the sheets for a wash. Today, he's been back to the old place with his commandeered wheelbarrow for his books, and a note he feels somewhat pathetic for leaving on the table, with a crude map pointing the reader south along the main path to him.
He'd told Neil though--he couldn't stop caring even if he'd wanted to, and he'd meant it. If he isn't done waiting, fine, but he's not going to spend another day waiting in one place. In that place. He hasn't even slept there in the past week--crashing in the compound or going without. Once he'd been given permission to take over this hut, it had been easy to throw his clothes in the hamper and go. Go south to this hut so nicely removed from the last, from the compound and the Hub and everyone who seems to not only know Sirius, but know the old him, know that they were best mates and figure him some sort of authority on the subject.
The books, those had warranted a second trip, and he's left them outside while he scrubs the dust and dirt from the floorboards and shelves, picks old bird and mice nests from the corners and stops to stare at the single bed like it means something.
This isn't like before. This isn't the house in the country with a sturdy basement door and James' money in the landlord's pocket. This is his place, where he doesn't have to hide unless he wants to and he can walk along the path to visit a neighbor as he pleases. Once he's cleaned up and lived in it a bit, it'll start to feel like home.
He just has to get used to it.
He'd told Neil though--he couldn't stop caring even if he'd wanted to, and he'd meant it. If he isn't done waiting, fine, but he's not going to spend another day waiting in one place. In that place. He hasn't even slept there in the past week--crashing in the compound or going without. Once he'd been given permission to take over this hut, it had been easy to throw his clothes in the hamper and go. Go south to this hut so nicely removed from the last, from the compound and the Hub and everyone who seems to not only know Sirius, but know the old him, know that they were best mates and figure him some sort of authority on the subject.
The books, those had warranted a second trip, and he's left them outside while he scrubs the dust and dirt from the floorboards and shelves, picks old bird and mice nests from the corners and stops to stare at the single bed like it means something.
This isn't like before. This isn't the house in the country with a sturdy basement door and James' money in the landlord's pocket. This is his place, where he doesn't have to hide unless he wants to and he can walk along the path to visit a neighbor as he pleases. Once he's cleaned up and lived in it a bit, it'll start to feel like home.
He just has to get used to it.