*Sirius had crowed when Moody had told him to come along for the raid. He's less inclined to do so now, though. It's with no small amount of trepidation that Sirius stands, wand out, at the doorstep. Getting through the wards was simple enough and he's trying to stay sharp, but it's hard not to be distracted by how horribly familiar everything is. He's never even been to this particular manor but he's seen others like it, and there are certain similarities between it and Grimmauld Place that he can't ignore. Some men are dragged back to childhood memories by the taste of a dessert or a father's aftershave; Sirius is taken back to his childhood by the sight of gothic doorknockers and the distinct dry, papery smell of an immaculately clean and ancient house full of too many silent and still rooms, as if the whole place were kindling and ready to go up in smoke. It's not pleasant, to say the least.*