Remus spends the next few days in an almost miserable stupor. The only exciting thing that happens is the meeting with two Aurors. Although calling it a meeting seems hardly appropriate, considering that they showed up announced at Book Hall, and asked Remus a bunch of questions that made him feel like he was the criminal.

He barely catches sight of Sirius, which makes him feel guiltier because even if Sirius isn't around, he's always cooked before leaving. Some nights, Remus hears him go out. He never manages to stay up long enough to hear him come back.

Right now, Remus is trying to fit a bunch of books on to a shelf that's just too small to accommodate them all. He stares miserably at the sad pile of books on the floor, wondering if hitting his head on the wood would give him a better idea.

"Well, aren't you a ray of sunshine today," Miss Hall pops out of the fireplace, wearing a red dress that verges on painful-to-look-at.

"Thank you, Miss Hall," Remus grins, suspecting he's starting to look a bit feral when he smiles too wide.

"Wasn't a compliment, my dear," she grins right back, throwing her bag under the counter. "Is it the boy? It's the boy, isn't it?" She shakes her head. "Do you mind turning the sign around?" She gestures at the sign that reads Closed. On it's other side, the side that faces the street, it says Open.

Remus does as he's told, wondering what she's got prepared for him to do, praying it doesn't involve anything potentially fatal like climbing on the roof or crawling up the chimney.

She catches him by surprise when she says, "Why don't you sit down and I'll make you a cup of tea?"

And so Remus ends up squished behind the counter with Miss Hall, drinking a cup of tea that's, frankly, too sugary and too milky. But Remus likes it. He likes it a lot.

"Well," Miss Hall puts her empty cup away, and drums on the counter with her fingernails. They're painted gold. The drumming reminds Remus of Sirius, so he clears his throat and looks at the bottom of his almost empty cup. "Are you going to tell me what happened, dear?"

"Uhm," Remus bites his lip. Is he?

"It would be quite rude of you not to, you know," Miss Hall tells him pointedly, "Since I made you tea and all that."

Remus looks at her, trying not to laugh. Bless this woman. "I'm sorry," he shifts on his stool, trying not to knock his elbow into the massive cash register, "Isn't that blackmail?"

"Is it?" Miss Hall pauses, then shrugs. "I don't think so. Blackmail would be me threatening to fire you if you don't tell me. Which, now that I think about it, isn't such a bad idea either."

Remus can't stop himself from laughing this time. Miss Hall gives him a massive grin.

"Come on," she says, "I'm too old for romancing, but what can I say? I do still love me a good romance,"

"And here I thought you wanted to help me..."

"Why on earth would I want to help you?" Miss Hall tsks. "Go on, what do the young ones say... Spill? Do they say that? Spill, Remus."

"If you want to sound like the young ones," Remus tells her, "—you should probably stop saying young ones. And..." He sighs, wondering if this is a good idea, and then shrugs to himself. What could go wrong?

So he takes a deep breath, crosses his legs, and spills.

***

"Men," Miss Hall makes a face of such distaste that Remus can't help but feel offended. "Can't expect much better from them."

"I..." Remus trails off, unsure.

"Ah, don't go making that face. It makes me feel bad. Did you say he was a Black?"

Remus nods.

"He must be Orion and Walburga's son, then. Well, one of their sons."

"He does have a brother..."

"Ah, the poor kid," Miss Hall sighs, standing up and smoothing her skirt down. She walks over to the sign and turns it around, declaring the shop open. Not that they get much customers anyway. But all Remus can think of is poor kid.

"Did you... know him?"

"Well, I've seen him. And his family. My sister used to take books to Orion, and I would go with her sometimes."

Remus watches her start dusting the shelves, and jumps to his feet. "I'll do it," he offers. She gives him a look. "No, dear, that's alright," she smiles at him sweetly. Remus almost feels moved by her kindness, but of course it's too good to be true. "You still have those books to tidy up. And that box," she points at something that looks more like a crate, "That box isn't going to empty itself. Go on, get to work."

Remus gets to work.

"Anyway," Miss Hall says, "Where was I? Yes, the Blacks. Charming family," she laughs dryly.

"What are they like?" Remus asks, genuinely curious. Sirius has never gone into much detail about his parents. But then again, Sirius has never gone into much detail about anything.

"Rich and evil. Villainous. Possibly bloodthirsty, definitely murderous."

Remus almost drops the two books he's holding.

"I think the woman was crazy. Walburga, I mean. All that inbreeding is bound to go wrong at some point... such a shame, because she's one of the prettiest I've ever seen. And that's saying a lot," Miss Hall turns to give Remus a cheeky smile, "Because I have seen my fair share of women."

Remus tries not to think about Miss Hall seeing women as he shoves the books on to the shelf.

"Maybe your manfriend inherited it," she continues, "The crazy, that is. Those things run in the blood, dear."

"Boyfriend," Remus corrects, and then feels his cheeks go hot, "Not that he's my boyfriend... just, you don't say manfriend, you say boyfriend."

"Very well, your boyfriend, then." She sighs deeply, dropping her playfulness. "I know it isn't my place to advise you, and Merlin and Morgana know, my advise is probably the worst," she warns, "But you know, Remus, if you like him so much, maybe you should just talk to him."

"I already have..." Remus sighs, but then starts doubting his words. Has he, really?

"Well, try again, then."

"But... He won't talk to me. He never does, Miss Hall," Remus sighs.

"Do you like him or not?"

"I do," Remus says, pushing a book on to the shelf.

"And do you want him?"

Remus feels his cheeks warm up. "I... yes,"

"Then talk to him. Or try, just once more. No offense, dear," she turns to give him that grin of hers he's begun to find strangely comforting. "But it's not like you've got all that much to lose."