Growing Up || Open
Remus shuffles a pint of the cheapest and least offensive beer this muggle pub offers between his hands and squints at the mirror behind the bar, scanning the sparse crowd through it. He chose this place because it was just crowded enough-- not crowded to the point of being overwhelming, but enough that he didn’t have to sit alone while he waited for his friend to arrive. Most of the patrons are quite a bit older, at least into their 30s, so no one seems interested in striking up a conversation with the young, scruffy young man from the bookstore down the road. He can fly under the radar here without being alone.
He takes a long sip from his pint and looks down at his hands, covered in leftover transformation scars from twigs and angry bird claws and Merlin knows what else. He’s getting used to this kind of thing. Being alone in a crowd. It was hard, right after Hogwarts, trying to float along and find a place to feel comfortable without having being grounded by the kind of roots he had taken for granted in school. But gradually, this kind of thing-- going to a pub and getting tipsy enough that everything, his feelings included, gets a little blurry and soft around the edges-- is becoming more natural.
Maybe this is what growing up is.
The bell at the door of the pub tinkles and Remus looks up again, smiling tiredly at the familiar face moving toward him and raising a hand to catch their attention.
At least he doesn’t have to grow up all alone.