One day everything will be well, that is our hope. Everything’s fine today, that is our illusion.
Voltaire
“Not sure I like it,” Orion wrinkled his nose, looking up and around himself.
He had his hands stuffed in the pockets of his skinny jeans, resting on the heels of his boots. He turned on the spot, still looking upwards. His long brown curls and beard framed his tanned face, and he sported a faded green t-shirt branded in a foreign script, beneath his favourite leather jacket.
“I mean imagine if yo- imagine if our father saw this.” He gestured to Andromeda’s redecoration of a once very floral drawing room (https://absitomen.com/index.php?topic=18333.0). It had sported cream carpet, blue hydrangea sofa with matching cushions. The floral patterns were gone, and everything was rather plainer, simpler, and very much more practical. The paintings with their heavy guilted frames remained.
He drifted from one room to the next, inspecting each with fresh eyes. Last time he’d been there, it had been a wreck (https://absitomen.com/index.php?topic=18697.0), of course. The ridiculous Ministry had been through everything and not at all left it tidy.
There was the smell of roast dinner wafting through the rooms of the Gamp family home in Godric’s Hollow. Enough to make Ri’s stomach rumble with anticipation of Solly’s excellent cooking. The house elf saw Andromeda as her primary master now, of course.
“Would family be seated now, Solly is ready to serve!” The elf’s voice rang out from down the hallway. Orion skipped a step out of the drawing room and into the adjacent dining room (https://absitomen.com/index.php?topic=18333.0).
“This is what I came back to England for! Not for you lot.” Orion jokingly announced, seizing the back of the chair his mother had once ordinarily taken for dinner, and then rethinking, opting for their father’s old chair instead at the head of the long table.