Readjusting (and Soap)
"Back to this place," muttered Sirius grumpily.
After alerting all the old members of the Order, Dumbledore had asked him to stay at Grimmauld Place.
The meeting was over. Remus had just left, closing the door.
It would take him some time to get used to this.
He walked into the kitchen and devoured the dinner he'd bargained Remus into leaving for him. He could have asked Kreacher, but, knowing that house-elf, he'd probably poison the food or something. Better this way.
The hardest part was trying to remember how to use the utensils- a fork and knife, as he remembered. In the end, he tossed them into the sink and ate with his hands.
Now, he thought, I need a wash.
He had gotten used to being dirty, but he assumed that not washing for fourteen years would make a person smell bad.
He found that the bathroom was on the first floor. Hold on, he remembered. I think I need a towel for this. And clean robes.
Thankfully, he found everything he needed in the bathroom. All except….
Wasn't there something called soap?
A block of slippery, terrible-tasting yet pleasant-smelling material?
Yes, he decided. Soap does exist, but not in this bathroom.
"Kreacher!"
The elf materialized. "Kreacher is at Master's service, yes, because even though-"
"Silence!"
Kreacher bit his mouth closed, glaring daggers at Sirius.
"Is there no soap in the house?"
Kreacher shook his head.
For a second, Sirius was tempted to order Kreacher to buy some for him, but he felt that would be a very bad idea.
Sirius, you can wash without soap, said his brain, sounding uncannily like Remus. Such a foolish thing to run a risk for.
But then, how often did he listen to Remus?
Grinning, he put his wand in the pocket of his dirty robe.
Five minutes later, an invisible black dog walked into a general store.
Late-night shoppers started screaming as a bar of soap floated through the air.
Police ran in.
Undercover Aurors on night duty ran in, firing spells every which way.
Sirius didn't stop to think. Animal instincts took over, and didn't stop till he got back.
Only when he was back in his bathroom did he realise what he had just done.
"All for a bar of soap," he muttered, examining his torn cloak.