(Dedicated to POTTERSWH0RE- because why the hell not?)

***

"Hello," a voice snaps Remus out of his thoughts, and he almost drops the dozen or so copies of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them : Volume One he's carrying right now. "Excuse me. Hello?"

"Yes?" Remus blinks, adjusting the books a little to shift their weight. A young woman-or maybe a girl, Remus can never tell for sure-is standing in front of him, her eyebrows furrowed. Her hair is blue like the summer sky, and her eyes are flaming red. And her lips are blacker than the gates of hell. Assuming that the gates of hell are black. Also assuming that there is a hell.

"I have a list of books I need," she holds out to Remus a parchment, which he tries to take while also holding a pile of books that almost reach his nose.

"Uhm," Remus looks at Miss Hall, who's happily ignoring the both of them and painting her nails at the counter. Burgundy, this time.

"One second, please," he smiles, putting the books carefully on the floor. He winces when his spine gives a small cracking sound as he stands up.

"I'll get these for you," he tells the woman-or girl-and bushes himself with collecting the books she needs. It takes what feels like sixteen hours, but Remus doesn't mind. He actually likes it. Because he might have to run around trying to find this book and that, and he might even bang his head on the shelves because Miss Hall always messes with the way he arranges the books and he can never find something where it's supposed to be, but in the end, he always gets it done.

Which Remus can't say about much else in his life.

Remus carries all the books (there's twelve in total, they're all books about stars and tea leaves and dreams) to the counter, panting, and sets them down.

Miss Hall doesn't even look up.

"Wait a while, dear," she tells, and Remus assumes she's addressing the customer. "I'm almost done."

The girl doesn't say anything, probably already acquainted with the strange ways of Eugenie Hall. She pulls her phone out and starts texting someone instead.

Remus watches Miss Hall paint her nails. Once she's done, she closes the cap of her bottle of polish and mumbles something under her breath, leaning over her wet nails. A soft breeze brushes past Remus.

"There," Miss Hall grins, "All dry." She throws a wink at Remus, letting him know that she did indeed just cast some sort of drying Spell or Charm with no incantation and no wand.

Remus starts to pack the books while she writes the bill (Remus tried getting her to use a computer and a printer for that, but she doesn't care much for efficiency, as she kindly reminded him).

"A hundred and thirteen galleons, dear," she says, "And because you're spending over a hundred, you get a free toffee. Here." She fishes inside her purse and pulls out a bag of toffees.

"Uh," the girl narrows her eyes at the bag, and then places some money on the counter. "Thanks?"

"You're most welcome, of course," Miss Hall accepts the money. She takes ages trying to find change, and eventually remembers that it's in an entirely different drawer than the one she's spent all this time searching inside.

"There you go. Thank you and come again," she hands the girl the change and the added toffee. "Or not," she adds, popping a toffee in her mouth.

"Bye, Miss Hall," the girl rolls her eyes, and skips our the door.

"Have a toffee," Miss Hall tells Remus when shes gone. "You look so miserable, it might brighten you up,"

"Thank you, Miss Hall," Remus shakes his head, "You always know just what to say,"

"Of course, dear. Now back to work, off you go."

The toffee is strawberry, and humming a little at its sweetness, Remus goes back to Fantastic Beasts. He remembers, out of nowhere, how he once gave Sirius a chocolate with popping candy. The way Sirius' face bloomed into one of innocent delight.

There was a bruise on his face that day. And Remus never found out how that happened.

And he never will, because Sirius won't tell him. Sirius won't tell him anything, because he won't have to. Because after the hearing next Tuesday, Remus will leave. And maybe he'll see Sirius again, but maybe he won't. Maybe Sirius will make sure that he won't.

Or maybe it will be different. This can't be the end.

Maybe...

"Two options, dear," Miss Hall's voice cuts through, "Either you work or you spill the tea."

Remus almost drops the books. Not even because of her voice that camd out of nowhere, but because he just heard a hundred-year-old woman say spill the tea.

And so Remus finds himself drinking her too sugary and too milky tea again while he tells her what happened in the last week.

"Boy's got issues," Miss Hall says gravely when Remus is done.

Remus nods, feeling miserable as he stares at his empty cup.

"And you're... moving out? Where will you go?"

"I don't know," Remus admits, "I didn't really think about it.

"Wherever you go," Miss Hall frowns, "Don't quit your job. Those books aren't going to carry themselves around,"

Remus gives her a small smile, which is the biggest he can manage. "I wouldn't dare,"

"You can stay in my house, if you have nowhere else to stay. That is, if you can handle me both at and off work. I live alone with nothing to keep me company but my misery, you know,"

"Oh," Remus looks at her, taken aback but genuinely moved by the offer. And shit, he can feel his eyes start to well up. "I-thank you so much, Miss Hall." He tries to wipe at his eyes quickly, but it's no use. The crying has taken root like a baobab from The Little Prince, and now he's left scrambling to look like he's totally not shedding tears over his boyfriend-who's-not-even-his-boyfriend in front of his hundred-year-old employer.

But he can't stop it, he can't stop hurting. He's not ready to leave Sirius.

And he doesn't think he'll ever be.

Miss Hall leans forward to squeeze Remus' shoulder, surprisingly gentle. A sob escapes his mouth at the gesture. Sometimes, kindness hurts a lot more than everything wrong in his life.

"Real men don't cry, Remus," Miss Hall shakes her head, looking very disappointed, and pulls him into a big, warm hug. It's one of those hugs make you feel safe and taken care of, like all your worries can wait outside until you figure it all out.

It's a little awkward, with the both of them sitting on three-legged stools that could very well fall over if they move the slightest in the wrong direction, and also with Remus being more than a foot taller than Miss Hall, but he doesn't really care.

"Fuck real men," he mumbles, crying into her shoulder. She smells of mild perfume, and a little bit like his mother.

"Now that," Miss Hall gives him a soft pat on the back, "is a level of low I would never descend to."

Remus starts laughing, so she lets him go. When he looks up, she's grinning at him.

"You know what always helps with heartbreak?" She asks, her blue eyes sparkling.

Remus shakes his head, wiping the last of his tears away.

"Nail polish, of course," she grins even wider. "Get your coat, we're going shopping."

***

Author's Note

Look this was a badly thought-out filler okay. But I'm like teetering on the edge of writer's block and that is a terrifying prospect because the last time I got it, it lasted a whole fucking month and I can't be arsed with that.

But angst is coming, maybe in a couple chapters. Hopefully soon cause that's the only thing I enjoy writing dksksjsjs

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