Chapter Text
The bigger man would have said no. The bigger man would have informed their little brother that it was pouring outside, a very pitch black—stormy—seven o’clock at night, and he would much rather be in their shared apartment, blasting his records and enjoying a joint whilst lying on the floor of his room. Warm, wrapped up in blankets and not outdoors in the onslaught of rain. Unfortunately, Sirius was not the bigger person, as his brother, Regulus, was much too terrifying to say no to. So it could be said that Regulus was the reason he was in this predicament, sopping wet and shivering his way through a muggle bookshop.
Yes, Sirius thought to himself, Reg is very much to blame for this.
‘Can I help you sir?’ a woman’s voice asks from behind him. Sirius turns slowly, attempting not to spray the shelves from his hair, wincing as he sees the mess he’s already made on the floor. He hasn’t even been inside the building for more than a minute, and already he’s caused a problem.
The woman, in contradiction to him, is in a neatly pressed lilac dress with a white collar and matching belt. With the white gogo boots and chunky earrings, she looked like she took a step right out of the sixties. Her face was set in a polite grimace, attempting a smile, but clearly annoyed about the water around the delicate materials.
You and me both, Sirius internally responded.
Her name tag read Mary.
‘Oh, yes, uh,’ Sirius mumbled. You see, he was usually a much more composed individual—he wouldn’t be able to do the job he had if not so—but the dripping water and ice-cold clothes sticking to his skin was really not helping his brain functions. Especially when a rather large drop managed to roll down the sensitive part of his back right at that very moment, ‘Mushrooms.’
‘Mushrooms?’ the woman, Mary, asked with an eyebrow raised.
‘Anything on mushrooms actually. My brother, he makes… well, he. How do I put this-’ Sirius could not let a muggle know about his brother’s work.
‘I think,’ she said with a hand raised, ‘I understand.’
Mary, clearly more amused at Sirius’ situation than annoyed now understanding he wasn’t coming into the establishment to cover all the books in water and destroy everything…or whatever she thought he was going to do, leads him deeper into the stacks of novels, expertly weaving around stacks that hadn’t been shelved yet and ducking under arches to support where the shelves started to lean inwards the higher up they went. The poor lighting of the establishment did not help matters either. Honestly, if it weren’t for the fact that Sirius was 100% aware he was in the least magical part of London, he probably would have thought he had entered a wizard’s bookshop.
‘Sorry about the mess,’ she spoke out, ‘we just got a couple new selections in from donors’. He didn’t respond, teeth too busy clattering against each other.
Mary, after taking Sirius deep into the maze, gestured over to a section of shelves closer to the ground, causing Sirius to have to gently crouch down, listening to the squelch of his shoes as he read labels and hoped one of these books will have what he needs. Eventually he gives up and takes all three, heading back through the shelves towards the counter he spotted near the entrance, as the puddle beneath him was growing too large to continue to stay still.
‘These three books please,’ Sirius tried for politeness, he really did, but his shirt is really soaking into his skin now and it feels like his bones itself are being leeched of warmth every second he stands shivering in this Merlin-forsaken shop in fuck-all London because Reg said it was ‘the only place’ that had good books for his potions research. Which confused Sirius, as it was very clearly in the muggle-owned and operated part of the city and no wizard would ever set up shop here. But Sirius did not care about this trivial fact about his brother’s research when the mop of brown hair behind the teetering shelves did not even flinch at his words, or tone, or the shivering that had most definitely turned to rattling at this point, his necklaces and earrings clinking in tandem.
‘Fucks sake, I’m standing right here, what could possibly stop you from looking up this badly?’ He snapped.
Sirius did try to be polite, didn’t he? What felt like eternity later, the mop of hair shifted slightly and a long, slender hand stuck out from an opening behind the stacks, doing a slow, rolling motion, to get Sirius to shift over.
‘Would you like to try that again?’ a lilting Welsh voice spoke with some of the driest wit known to man. Making him feel even more stupid for not knowing where the register was.
Sirius, stepping over to the counter space, would like to say that he was fully prepared to stand up to this stranger. That this dry, sarcastic, taunting voice with their little hand-waves and beautiful piano-long fingers could not stop the rage in Sirius, for he, the disgraced heir of the House of Black, was very well known for his sharp comebacks and dazzling charm and no man—or woman!—will get the last word with him around. He was much too skilled to allow this to happen.
Yes, Sirius was very prepared to face this..
This..
Sirius was stunned into silence by the most intriguing man. He looked as if autumn itself had gotten trapped and bottled within him, covering him a soft golden hue. Dressed in shades of brown and soft oranges and muted greens, a knitted jumper with patched elbows and a soft brown mop of hair, thick curls evidently unmanaged, cut roughly into some resemblance of a mullet. A cup of tea was in his right hand, a worn out book in his lap, the fingers of his left hand sat holding an electronic machine with the price already detailed out, and a box of plastic bags sat at this stranger’s loafer-clad feet, the top bag already opened and waiting. His socks did not match, one was a paw-printed blue sock and the other was a green and white checkerboard pattern—it was pulled up higher than the other.
‘Um. Erm. These three please.’ Sirius placed the three textbooks onto the counter, embarrassed and mumbling after his outburst. The man just wordlessly handed over the machine while continuing to read his book. And while Sirius muddled about with the muggle machine—it had been a few weeks, okay? This mysterious man, mug in hand, book in lap, mismatched socks and messy hair, deftly picked up and placed all three books within the opened plastic bag and returned it to the counter for him.
Sirius paid as quickly as could, grabbing the bag and heading towards the door. Forgetting any form of decorum as his thoughts started to spin away from him again. The faster he could make it home, the faster the ice sliding down his back could be replaced with a hot shower and warming spell. And get away from this most embarrassing moment with the enticing stranger.
‘I suggest,’ the Welsh man said dryly, ‘ folding over the plastic bag, the rain is only going to get heavier tonight.’
‘Oh, uh, thanks.’ Sirius mumbled, following his instructions as he pulled the heavy wooden door, listening to the bell chime as he stepped out. Almost immediately leaving the front step of the building did a large crack of thunder strike overhead, making Sirius jump. Merlin, could it rain any harder? He searched along the street underneath the awning of the shop for the closest alley to run to, when he heard a quiet scratching sound on the multicolored stained glass of the bookshop’s door behind him. It was Mary, turning over the sign to say ‘closed’. She raised an eyebrow at Sirius, still standing underneath the awning on the front step.
He smiled sheepishly back at her and gestured meekly towards the rain.
She responded with a shoo-ing motion.
Fine. Message received. Sirius took a deep breath, straightening his spine as he steeled himself, and ran out into the storm, heading towards home.
Remus was quite done with his day when the mysterious boy, soaking wet and looking for all the world like a lost dog stumbled into the store. He swore if he had to make small talk one more time about the torrential downpour outside he was going to curse this boy’s ass off, muggle or not. This was London, rain was the standard. Wear a coat. It wasn’t that he didn’t like his job—Remus wouldn’t have gotten ownership of the building from the small funds his father left behind in Gringotts if he didn’t. It was just that the moon was a few days away and his temper was always shorter then, the lack of sleep and numerous aching bones in his body reminding him of what he will have to endure so painfully soon.
Thankfully, Mary had picked up on Remus’ souring mood and she stepped up to the drenched potential customer, wincing as the water sliding off of him started to soak into the worn hardwood floors.
And as the boy stuttered his way through his words, Remus seemed to be saved from small talk by this boy’s complete idiocy when it came to forming a coherent sentence.
It could’ve been the cold from the rain, The kinder part of Remus supplied for him, Shut it, brain. the other half responded.
As Mary took him into the stacks to go find, and he quotes, ‘mushrooms’, Remus relaxed back into his seat, sipping his chamomile tea and listening to the rain pour heavily onto the practically empty street. The few cars that drove by went slowly, headlights reflecting brightly against the drops on the bay window he sat at.
Unfortunately for him, it seemed this final customer did not know what he wanted so badly that he took all three identification textbooks about the subclasses of fungi from around the world and quickly made his way to the front desk. As he approached, Remus could see all three tombs between the stacks of new arrivals. By Rowena he needed to shelve these all before the moon, as much as he loved Mary and her tireless work ethic, she did still have classes to attend, unlike him, and could not stay all day to shelve books and make small talk.
‘These three books please,’ the boy called into the stacks as he typed the pricing out into the machine. Merlin, he could hear the customer’s jewelry clinking from his shivering. What was he thinking, not grabbing a coat on his way out the door? Could he not see the torrential downpour?
‘Fucks sake, I’m standing right here, what could possibly stop you from looking up this badly?’ The boy ended up muttering from the other side of the stack. Remus rolled his eyes, knowing full well the drenched individual could not see him from his position, at the wrong side of the counter.
Remus stuck out his hand and motioned for him to come forward a few steps so he could be seen, and as he was feeling particularly spiteful from that comment, he spoke rather drily back to him.
The boy stood frozen in place, looking star-strucked at Remus. He watched from the corner of his eye as he placed his books into the bag, seeing him fumble with the machine like he barely used one. To be fair, it was rather presumptuous of Remus to immediately type the price into the machine, but his demographic rarely carried cash on hand anymore anyways.
As he used the machine, Remus categorized the boy’s figure. Besides being sopping wet, he wore an entirely black outfit. The thin shirt and jeans, alongside platform Doc Martens to make this small individual seem just slightly taller and a dark belt. Even his hair was just an inky curtain into the night. What stood out to him was all the jewelry worn was a sharp silver, he could feel it in his stomach, now that the customer had gotten closer. A nauseating smell for any werewolf, no matter the time of month. What really struck Remus was that this boy was in fact a man. Remus just assumed by his frail-looking frame and small stature that he hadn’t finished growing. But underneath the drenched shirt was semi-defined arms from some form of manual labour and even shivering, he held himself like he knew where each of his limbs were and how to best move them, it was intriguing.
But nevertheless, the boy-man paid and was headed towards the door. And Remus, in an act of fear for the books in hand, and definitely nothing else, called out.
‘I suggest,’ Remus said, ‘folding over the plastic bag, the rain is only going to get heavier tonight.’
The man seemed to mumble a thanks as he folded over the bag, stepping out on the front step. Just as he stepped out, a large crack of thunder struck overhead, making the man involuntarily flinch and stay underneath the overhang of the porch. Remus watched through the glass as he stood out on the step, looking around like he wanted to do anything but head out into the storm.
‘What is he doing?’ Mary asked after a few minutes.
‘I don’t know. Do you think he would move if we put out the closed sign?’ Remus asked with a smirk, the small part of him who enjoyed the small sufferings of others climbing out.
Mary matched his grin with her own, an equal lover of chaos and troublemaker, ‘Ooo, I like how you think, Wolfy.’
Remus cringed.
‘Yeah that one was bad coming out. I’ll figure something out eventually!’ She stated merrily as she went over and flipped the sign. The man outside turned slightly to see what she was doing.
Mary raised an eyebrow.
He gave back an impish smile, one hand waving slightly at the water in front of him. Remus smirked.
Mary made a shoo-ing motion at him, finally urging the small man to move.
The man seemed like he was, for all the world knew, going to war. As he took in a deep breath and straightened, before dashing out into the rain, vanishing from sight. A large crack of thunder soon followed.
‘What a strange man.’ Remus stated plainly. Mary snorted.
‘That’s putting it lightly,’ Mary laughed, ‘Uhh.. uhh. Mushrooms!’ She imitated the poor fellow.
Remus chuckled.
‘It seems no one else will be coming in tonight. Would you like to help close up or leave early?’ Remus asked.
Mary waved him off, ‘Oh please, you finished closing sales an hour ago. I know you have nothing left to do Mr. “Would you like to try that again?” Godric you sounded like my mother with that tone.’
Remus outright laughed at that one. Standing up, he took care to favour his right leg, as his left side pulsed with the continuing rain. Mary softened and came around the desk.
‘Oh here, I can take these upstairs for you.’ she said, reaching for his tea, but Remus waved her off. His apartment was only up the stairs in the back, he didn’t need assistance that badly.
‘I’m a strong independent woman, Mary. I can walk up a set of stairs on my own.’ he said, straight faced. She snorted at that.
‘Alright then, let me grab my coat, I’ll only be a moment.’ she said, running to the back. Returning with her rain coat and umbrella, Remus walked her to the door.
‘Message me when you get home, alright? It’s quite slippery and I don’t want you falling in the dark,’ he said. Mary smiled softly and tugged him to lean down so she could kiss his cheek.
‘You’re too kind for this world Remus,’ she said, opening the front door, ‘let Lily know I say “hi”! And don’t let her catch you without your cane, mister. I know you haven’t been using it.’
Remus smiled fondly at one of his long time friends, ‘Yes Mary. Now go home. Shop’s closed.’
She smiled and stepped outside. And only after she had safely made it, underneath her umbrella, to the end of the street, did Remus watch her apparate into nothing and Remus felt the buzz in his pocket, of her letting him know she was home safe, did he lock the door and head in for the night. Letting the memory of the odd final customer wash away, alongside the heavy rain.