Never in his life had Severus been so eager to get home. He was itching to sequester himself away in the manor’s library, book and quill in hand, determined not to leave until every free space in the book was littered with his spidery handwriting. Annotating his books had been a habit he had picked it years ago - he found it far easier to have his notes in the book instead of a separate notebook; it made it far easier for him to cross reference that way. Not to mention the ease it provided when he was brewing. The fewer books he had out the more room he had to brew.
He hummed in disbelief at Bennett’s pronouncement. “Ah yes, I had forgotten just how easy it is to pull the wool over my eyes.” Severus quipped drolly, his eyes rolling. “Outstanding, eh? Well, let me guess? Slughorn framed it and put it on the wall in his office along with the collection?” How ridiculous. “That wouldn’t be the word I would personally use were I asked to describe you, but I digress.” He knew that the other man was joking, but even still.
Severus came to a stop once he reached the counter, offering the clerk a few curt words of greeting and a terse apology for what Severus deemed to be Bennett’s far too loud conduct. Fishing around in his coat pocket, he pulled out a handful of coins, meticulously counting them before handing the over to the man behind the counter. He fixed Bennett with a tired look as the clerk wrapped the book in brown paper, Severus’ patience severely tested by the werewolf’s exuberance. “I wouldn’t go that far.” He sneered. “Adoption isn’t on the cards anytime soon. And even if it was, you’re too old to be adopted.” Severus’ sneer turned into a grimace at the mention of Christmas - he hated to think what chaos Bennett would bring with him then. Christmas in the Prince household had always been a sober affair, the family preferring quiet to raucous celebration. “I’m sure you’re right - I will regret it.”
He thanked the clerk and took the paper wrapped book, heading out the door with barely a look back at his companion. “Keep up.” The place Bennett described sounded far from pleasant and Severus could only assume that it was one of the few establishments that didn’t shy away from werewolf clientele. “You can’t remember the name? How helpful.” And totally typical of Bennett, in Severus’ opinion. He began to make his way down Diagon Alley, tugging his coat closer to his body in an attempt to keep out the winter chill.
“Can you at least remember how far down Knockturn Alley it is? That might prove to be useful if that is where we’re going.”
As the quiet would settle again, the mention of Christmas now something Bennett would be able to recall, though he wouldn’t wish for the pain in them. The last time he spent Christmas truly was over a year ago in his seventh year and the last time he saw his family was during such holidays. In the way Bennett saw it, Severus had an easier life in that way, his family right there, his mother right there with him - if Bennett pondered for long he would enter the question in his parents searched for him, if someone found them, if he wasn’t going to see them again. Bennett had to believe that the pack was the only family he needed now, and they were a family, however, so was his own, and there wasn’t a way to comprehend yet that perhaps Bennett was unhappy where he was, his actions that went against that something he wasn’t willing to admit to himself. Severus was far too lucky. “It’s only out of the cards, if you believe. You’re grandmother doesn’t know how old I am, that’s a loophole somewhere.” He laughed here and quite greatly so, needing to find the world brighter than it was in that moment as he moved on.
There isn’t a response given to the question of how far they had to travel, except for a slight side glance with raised eyebrows and a tight-lipped smile, a smug look in the eyes, one that he guessed would annoy Severus in one shape or form and done so on purpose. There was also the fact that Bennett was still figuring out where to go, and it was also a subconscious effort to stall time with Severus, even if he was annoyed with Bennett, this was an incredibly calm moment for him compared to the rest of his usual time these days.
The street of Knockturn Alley they would find themselves upon wasn’t a place the respectable world would venture towards, however, it was also one of the few places that wouldn’t always turn away Bennett if he wished to eat in one of their establishments, expect his presence due to another matter, even if he did just want to eat. (Respect was a different matter, but one not expected.) There were some glances on the street. The changes in Bennett’s behavior were subtle, yet visible, withheld in his gait alone. He would walk taller, head held high, as if others would have to look up to him no matter their height. His steps were hard, a purposeful walk; a brick fence of an expression. This behavior alone would cause those who glanced his way to turn their backs quickly, the werewolves no longer men when there wasn’t a full moon in the eyes of the wizarding world, and for Bennett, this was a created image.
It was with a noise that was beyond the hum of the street that would bring about a pause in Bennett’s walk. And in the distance it could be seen, outside of a storefront stood a small group, ripped wanted posters at their feet and the pamphlets that were passed out earlier in their hands, on the ground. What was great about them was their sound, a chanting about the executions, on remembering Hagrid. While they were only a small group, seemingly as if they only just began their protest and people were only beginning to turn towards them - including the people behind the glass storefront, a woman was standing some feet away beyond the glass, a coffee mug in her hands - eyes moving from the werewolf to the protest.
The change in Bennett’s behavior is incredibly drastic, especially considering how he was acting around Severus minutes ago. He shifts into the guard dog he is meant to be, not the friend, not Bennett Moreno, but Greyback, meant to be the feared Greyback in a different stature and that’s seen in his actions, though they are almost scripted, practiced in the way he turns and the narrowing of his eyes, the closing of his fists and stomp of his gait, creating himself to be bigger than he was before as he moves past Severus without a glance to stand in front of the protesters. This movement alone causes an end to the shouting as he doesn’t speak just yet, though takes away the pamphlet stack the one in front of them held and ripped it in half. The street, by now, even by the shock that the protesters were now silent, turned their gaze upon them, and it was there that Bennett would hold back the plans he created of what to do - what to do to run the protesters off the street, make them afraid enough to not try this stunt again. The issue wasn’t that they weren’t violent, yet, as this never stopped Bennett before from his overreaction, from seeing that the best mode of action was to stop any further rebellion. Severus was there and part of Bennett’s mind still wasn’t able to connect him to the work he did.
A plan formed of how to solve the situation, imaginations of a battle, them fighting and him fighting back. In the moment, he only began to open his mouth to prepare a question, and from his expression, it wasn’t going to be kind. And with stories of the werewolves preceding him, part of his work in frightening them was already done.
