#untamedmeadows

LOCATION: House of Bones; Battle, U.K. DATE: March 6th, 1982 STATUS: closed | @playingdorcas / @untamedmeadowes

After James’ death, it had been inevitable to find a new home for the Order of the Phoenix’s headquarters. It had not simply been a question of security that pushed this decision, even if of course having lost the Estate’s secret keeper had made the location incredibly vulnerable, but it was also all the memories that lived in the house of the young man that had died. Of him, and the person that had killed him. Ainsley Abbott’s ghost was just as haunting as James Potter’s, and it was nothing left to do but find somewhere else.

Years back, at the height of its power, The House of Bones would’ve been the perfect place for an organisation such as the Order of the Phoenix. Nowadays, it was good enough. Caradoc would never judge the place too harshly, after all they were extremely lucky that Edgar was allowing them to make use of it. With time, they could turn this place, too, into the home that the Potter Estate had been—or at least, that’s how Caradoc saw it since he had bottled all his sentimentality about their previous headquarters away.

With the past behind him, he focused on the present. The need to bring all their equipment, all the things they couldn’t leave at the Potter Estate anymore, and all they would need in the days ahead.

Asking Dorcas to help served him in more than a single way: he had someone to help him with the move; she would be busy enough with the moving not to go around enacting more plans of hers; he could finally address what happened a week ago. It already bothered him to have left so long since it happened, but his week had been busy and he figured it was for the best not to act in the heat of the moment. 

He had spent most of their time working in silence but for the few instances where words were needed, things like ‘this goes here’, ‘do you have the healing equipment?’, ‘we need to bring these next’, and so on. The talking-to he meant to give her was brewing underneath the surface of his silent disappointment.