Where: Muggle charity bookshop When: 20th October 1986 Who: Remus && @sevsnpe
Something Remus wasn’t sure if he could quite define as friendship had formed between him and Severus Snape in the past few years, despite the years of tension and anger that still tainted that relationship, but it was an alliance only to be found in secondhand bookstores and libraries in Muggle London. Not one for in front of the former Order members who had already lost trust in Remus once or Severus’ old housemates who might look down on the two impecunious half-bloods bonding. How they had fallen into this little routine of ‘bumping’ into each other, Remus wasn’t sure, but as his feet automatically took him to a secondhand bookstore off the main streets, he thought of what he was going to ask Severus about the Nott family, assuming they would meet.
It was hardly a surprise to see Severus there already and Remus headed over to the same cart of books. He picked a book at random from a cart and flipped it over to read the blurb, though he knew he wasn’t going to be buying anything today. “Were you at the gala the other night? I didn’t see you,” he commented, not looking up from his book. Then again, he had spent the evening sat in a corner hoping nobody would bother him.
he scuffs his sneakers against the tiled floor of the bookstore distractedly, flipping through the yellowed pages of a second-hand cookbook with the same intent focus he’d set upon a magic tome.
if asked, he would not say that he was waiting. there's no reason for him to expect company, these trips to muggle london were little more than aimless and meandering. their purpose is to be without purpose, for his thoughts to wander without pressure or expectation. he did not know his feet would take him to this store until he found himself here.
and yet, he must have been. muted anticipation uncoils in his stomach as the werewolf makes his way towards his cart.
‘ not with your head tucked between your knees, you wouldn't have, ’ he snorts, tucking the cookbook into the wicker basket hanging off his arm. he glances briefly up at his odd companion, his not-enemy but not-friend, before his gaze drops back to the cart. few people have as much history with him as lupin does without landing themselves firmly in one category or the other. it's odd, but not the oddest relationship he'd cultivated in the last few years. and like any other relationship in his life, there is a careful balance to observe.
he picks up an old and used copy of Les Miserables, worn and well cared for, his lips pulling slightly into a loop-sided smile as he flips through and reads the notes in the margins. ‘ you wouldn't have, even if you'd gone mingling. i was very keen on staying out of sight myself. ’ a huff, a quiet mutter, ‘ for all the good that did. ’
