Prompt: All things on earth point home in old October: sailors to sea,
travellers to walls and fences, hunters to field and hollow and
the long voice of the hounds, the lover to the love he has forsaken.

(Thomas Wolfe)

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The first of October had finally come and Sirius paced impatiently in the entrance hall. He had been pacing for nearly an hour now. Absently, he stopped to examine the banister, his thin fingers playing over the wood for a brief moment before he grew tired of this distraction and returned to his pacing once more. The house was eerily quiet. Arthur was off at work and Molly had gone to Diagon Alley to pick up groceries and Remus - Remus had been gone since Harry had returned to Hogwarts. His shoulder tensed at the sound of locks turning quietly in the door. With practiced grace, he slid into his second form and rushed down to the kitchen. Two minutes and twenty-three seconds later, Remus appeared, looking ready for a long nap. Sirius shoved a cup of steaming hot tea at him and led him to a chair.