"Picky bugger," Sirius complained. "Can't even just be a regular sort of carpet, I have to do it up in your name. I'm drawing a little stick figure wolf all over." Which Sirius probably would have, if they'd actually bothered about a carpet. Everyone already knew about Remus here, since they all knew every bloody thing about them from the books they'd read.
"You could try," Sirius said. "But there's no point in tidying, things only get messy again." It was like making the bed. Sirius couldn't think of anything more pointless than making a bed unless someone just did it for you. Beds got mussed. You slept in them, and when the bedding was dirty, you gave it a wash (or someone else gave it a wash). Otherwise, leave it. That was how it was meant to be.
Sirius snorted. "I made friends with a girl who showed me a few things. But mainly I wander over to someone else's flat and they feed me." Which wasn't far from his policy back home, actually. "There's a microwave box that heats things up that you buy at the store and you just push buttons." Though not when you left a fork on a plate, he'd learned from experience.