House Elf Catalog
Remus stepped through the kitchen door slowly, looking around tentatively. The past eleven months of being at home had done quite a number on the Lupin house. Lyall, whose housekeeping skills were quite lacking, had been living in a sea of mirth, it seemed, and Remus wasn't sure how to react. He'd had an idea that something like this might be awaiting him when he saw his father standing on Platform 9¾ with an unshaven face and loose-hanging clothes that no longer fit his thinning frame - but this was eons worse than he'd been expecting. Stacks of take-out from muggle restaurants stood about the counters, and there was a light bulb out in the four bulb overhead. It was clear that his father had tried his hand at neatening the place, but not very successfully.
"I, uh, didn't get a chance to clean up much," Lyall muttered.
Remus swallowed back the urge to say something rude like no kidding or I couldn't tell, and just nodded slowly, walking in, unsure if he dared put down his bookbag. The floor felt a bit sticky and there were footprints from days of Lyall going in and out. His mum had kept that floor sparkling, he remembered, looking at the blue tiles. It hadn't been unusual once upon a time to come down the stairs and find Hope Lupin on her hands and knees wiping clean the floor. She would've had a fit to see it now.
Lyall waved his wand at the table to draw out a chair. "Are you hungry?" he asked, his voice hesitant.
Remus looked at the stuff piled up on the counter. "Maybe," he said.
Lyall looked a bit on the lost side. "I, uh, I used your mother's hellyphone to call down the local pub... They bring food to you - right to the door. You have to pay them with muggle money, but I got some of that from Gringott's and --" he paused. "They make a lovely chicken sandwich."
"I can cook something, dad," Remus suggested.
Lyall's eyes were sad. "You just got home," he said. But the way he said it, it was clear he'd been looking forward to Remus coming home for this very reason.
"It's alright," Remus said, "I don't mind."
Lyall said, "I don't have anything at home to cook..."
Remus shook his head, "It's alright, I can go and get something in the village. Do you still have some of that muggle money?"
"Yes," Lyall nodded and reached into his pocket, fumbling with the little purse he kept there, untying the strings and pouring the coins and bills and odds and ends out onto the table. Several of the coins rolled and Remus caught them squarely in his palm. He turned them over. "I have a couple ponds."
"They're pounds, dad," Remus corrected him. "British pounds."
Lyall nodded, "Right, right. Pounds."
Remus looked over the money. There wasn't very much there, but it would do for now. He gathered it up and put it into his pocket. "What do you think you'd like?" he asked.
"Anything but chicken," Lyall answered, a look of relief melting over his face. "Anything but chicken."
Remus nodded and scooped up his book bag quickly, pulling the shoulder strap over his head. "Alright, dad, I'll be back."
Lyall looked quite thankful. "I'm glad you're home, my boy," he said thickly.
Remus nodded, "Me, too, dad," he said. He paused at the door. "Hey, maybe we should look into getting you a house elf for when I go back to school?"
Lyall looked defeated. "Perhaps," he said.
"It's just a suggestion," Remus amended, and he quickly ducked out the door.
Remus spent the next several days working very hard to clean and neaten and scrub up the house and erase the past eleven months of neglect. He hated himself for having left home for so long. He should've come home for the Christmas holiday, he thought, rather than leaving his dad alone in the house. He did all of the cleaning by hand because, being underage, he couldn't use his wand outside of Hogwarts - but he didn't mind. He would've done at least the floor on his hands and knees regardless, just to do it the way his mother had. Every night, Remus cooked dinner. Some nights, Lyall even helped by magicking the skin from the potatoes or something of the like.
Remus was feeling overwhelmed by the end of the week as his wolfish side effects started to come upon him. He was laying in bed one morning, two days before the full moon, and he could smell the lemon scented cleaner he'd used on the kitchen floor the morning before. It made him sick and a bit dizzy, and he wasn't sure he wanted to get out of bed but he knew if he didn't that Lyall wouldn't eat right that day and he squeezed his eyes tight up, trying to will the head ache away.
Getting up, Remus went over to his desk and pulled out a parchment and quill and wrote a letter to Sirius.
Dear Sirius,
How are things at Grimmauld Place? I've been having a right terrible time around here. Seems my Dad is pretty much useless without mum and the mess that I found when I got home... well, Sirius, it was pretty awful. I've spent the last week cleaning up and trying to nourish my dad. He hasn't eaten anything but chicken from a muggle pub since I left, it seems. It's dreadful. I'm worried about leaving him for the full moon tomorrow - not to mention for next term. I tried talking to him about getting a House Elf but I think it might've offended him a bit. I do think he needs one though. Do you know how one goes about getting a House Elf? I've never really thought about it before. I think most of them are sort of... handed down, aren't they? Or is there like a catalog?
BE CAREFUL THIS SUMMER!!!
- Remus.
Remus smirked, picturing the laugh that Sirius would get out of the idea of ordering a house elf from a catalog.
A reply came early in the morning the day that Remus would be going into the cellar in the backyard for the full moon. He eagerly untied the letter from the leg of Adolf, the Black family owl, and unraveled it. Sirius's messy script filled the page.
YOU DO NOT WANT A HOUSE ELF!!!!
Trust me, they are obnoxious, rude, and downright dreadful. Actually if you want Kreacher I will gladly send him to you by return owl with a fat red ribbon tied about his big stupid head! But blimey if you really insist upon getting one (I suppose Kreacher can't possibly be your typical house elf, else why would anyone ever want one) (and no I doubt they have a catalog - what would they be called Elves R Us?) I guess you'd probably want to talk to somebody in the ministry in elfish welfare, perhaps they have one. Or don't you have an "IN" with Dumbledore? Perhaps Hogwarts has an extra one kicking around they don't need anymore that could come clean up after your dad. Sorry your dad's not getting on well. I'm sure it's been hard on him. How are you getting on by the way? As for me well I'm just ruddy thankful it's the full moon tonight - I'll be going to James's house just after I finish this letter. Well first I'll be going to Peter's then from Peter's to Diagon Alley and then to James's house because of the whole unplottable thing, but you know. Round about to James's anyway! Number 12 "GRIM OLD PLACE" has been about the same as always. My parents haven't spoken to me even once the whole time I've been here. It's been rather nice being ignored and generally forgotten about. You'd think I was being sarcastic but I'm not, I rather like them staying away from me. It's much more pleasant than their constant antimuggle propaganda and rubbish! Unfortunately, Regulus hasn't been much better though. He talks to ruddy Kreacher like he's a person - it's very disturbing. I think Reg may be going mad. I'm hoping I can talk some sense into him this summer. He got his Hogwarts letter yesterday at the same time I got your letter and he was very excited about it. Mother and Father were oh-so-delighted that their ickle wonderful little son was going to school in September and Mother kept making remarks about how it'll be nice to have a GOOD SON in the school to represent the Black Family Name Properly and what have you, slobbering all over him. Ruddy git. I may not bother coming back from the Potters at this rate and just stick it out with James over there! Anyway I better go, I need to catch the Knight Bus to Peter's.
YOU STAY SAFE TOO.
And don't clean too hard.
And be careful getting a house elf that you don't end up with a NUTTER like Kreacher.
And don't bite yourself when you go wolf.
And try and smile.
And don't eat any of that Muggle Pub chicken it sounds dreadful.
~Sirius Black~
Remus laughed, looking over the letter and the messy was Sirius had clumped everything he had to say together. It felt very much like talking to him did. He wished he could write him back, but he wasn't sure where to send the note to and decided to wait until he'd heard from James and see if Sirius had ended up staying at the Potters or not.
"Are you going to be alright?" Remus asked, checking on Lyall that afternoon.
"I will," Lyall said.
"You'll remember to turn the stove off at dinner?" Remus asked. He had left a pot of stew bubbling on the stove for Lyall to eat while he was in the cellar outback.
Lyall nodded, "Of course, I'm not a total nincompoop."
Remus hesitated.
"I will remember, Rey," Lyall said, recognizing his son's worry wasn't totally unfounded.
"Alright." Remus sighed. "Well, then I s'pose I'll be out - you know - dealing with my furry little problem."
Lyall looked up from the book he was reading. "Your furry little problem?"
"That's what my mate James calls it," Remus replied with a shrug.
Lyall looked concerned. "Your friends know about your -- condition?" he asked.
"Only a couple of them."
Lyall hesitated. "Are you sure that's safe? What if they told --"
Remus held a palm up to stop Lyall, "Don't worry dad. They wouldn't ever tell anyone. I totally trust every one of my friends to the very last breath. We'd never betray each other. They're mybest friends."
Lyall still looked concerned.
"You'll have to meet them one day," Remus suggested.
Lyall nodded, "That sounds good. Invite them over sometime."
"Knowing them, they'll just show up sometime," Remus chuckled. He took a deep breath, "Alright. I'm going." He paused at the door. "What're you doing to do at dinner time again?"
"Shut off the stove," Lyall replied. "And eat some of that delicious stew you've made me."
"Good." Remus waved, "Night dad. I love you."
"Night son."
Outside, Remus hurried across the lawn and opened the hatch to the cellar, his eyes scanning the line of trees that edged the yard. It'd become a nervous habit of his, ever since he'd heard the story of the mysterious murderer having set off the Dark Mark over his house from the trees... as though he were afraid of seeing the killer there, lurking in the shadows. He shook his head and jumped down the little ladder into the cramped space below, closing the doors behind him and sealing them up good to keep himself from escaping.