The entrance is dusty and dirty, but everything is just as it was when Remus left all those years ago; Sirius’ second-favourite leather jacket hanging beside the raincoat he lent to Remus more than he wore himself, a few pairs of shoes lying neatly underneath them—Remus remembers the playful row they’d had when they first moved in and Sirius insisted on all shoes being taken off and placed neatly by the door, a holdover from his upbringing that he had decided he didn’t hate (your shoes are  dirty  , Moony! We shared a dorm, Pads, and we never took our shoes off there! ). Sirius had always been exceptionally tidy, Remus recalls, spelling away the dirt and dust at the entryway and toeing off his shoes with a small smile.