"Good morning, Re," James Potter is a brilliant spark behind the counter, illuminating the entire shop with that radiant smile of his. At half past seven in the morning, he is as effervescent as a bottle of Sprite.
It's not that early anymore, but the sun seems particularly languid today, only daring to sneak a couple beams of gold into the shop through it's windows. They paint James' tan skin a welcoming amber, and Remus can see the minuscule specks of dust ascending inside the sunbeams, dancing and chasing each other in lazy circles.
It's beautiful.
The shelves lining the walls bear jars of all different sizes, with all kinds of leaves, flowers, insects and powders inside them. There's a large jar full of candied roses on the counter. James places his steaming mug of tea next to it, and smiles impossibly wider at Remus.
"Good morning, James," Remus smiles at him. "Tea?" James asks, but it's no longer an offer. He's already out of his seat, pouring a mug for Remus. Remus puts his bag down on the counter, and takes the mug gratefully. He curls his fingers around it for a minute, letting the warmth seep into his fingers.
"Getting cold outside?" James asks, and Remus nods. The tea is chamomile, Remus' favourite.
"I brought my list today," he says, placing the mug next to James'. He opens his bag and pulls a long piece of parchment out of it, where a list of supplies is written in his precise handwriting.
Last week, Remus forgot his shopping list. But not today.
James raises his eyebrows. "That's a lot," he marvels, taking the list and going through it. "Business is good," Remus shrugs.
Remus doesn't have the time to afford a proper job, so he brews potions at home. His small house in Hogsmeade doubles as his shop, which is actually his living room.
"That's good to hear, Re. This is going to take a while, though." James is already at the shelves. Remus watches him count ten salted slugs into a bag.
"Give me the list," Remus says. "I'll read it out for you, and you can find the supplies."
They go through the items one by one. "And... I need a dozen blind cat's eyes." Remus looks up at James, stuffing the list back in his bag. James frowns. "A dozen? I think we're out of stock. Wait, wait..." he says something else, but he's vanished into the back of the shop so Remus can't hear him.
James emerges from the back in a couple minutes, holding a small jar. "I only have three, mate," he looks at Remus apologetically. "Oh... That's okay..." Remus assures James, who is now pulling a large book from under the counter. That boy, he moves like water. Swift and smooth, never lagging for a second.
He flips through the book, and looks up with a grin. "We're restocking tomorrow, if you like?"
Remus nods, relieved. He really needed those eyes. "I'll come back tomorrow, then." James sits down and starts writing a bill for him. "We were delivered some really good lavender rocks last Thursday. I saved some for you..." he pulls a small brown paper bag out from a drawer. "It's a present." He winks.
Remus rolls his eyes, not bothering with offering to pay, because there really is no point. James has always been quite generous with his presents, and Remus knows by experience that offering to pay would only offend him.
Remus ends up with three massive bags which he has no idea how to carry at once. "I can deliver them for you," James offers. "I think you'll have to," Remus smiles. "So I'll... see you tomorrow, then?" He asks as he turns to leave. James nods, smiling as always. "Have a nice day, Re!"
"Have a nice day, James. See you soon."
Remus sucks on a lavender rock as he walks towards the open fireplace at Diagon Alley.
He goes straight home, and makes himself a mug of tea, because one simply doesn't tire of drinking tea. He sits down with a plate of biscuits and waits for James' owls.
"Oh, Marshbutton," Remus groans when he sees a ball of grey fluff running up to him. The massive cat rubs her nose on his toes, sending a tickle up his leg. "Okay, okay," he laughs and crushes a biscuit for her.
The owls don't take very long to appear. Marshbutton is not happy to see them, but they don't stay for long anyway. Remus quickly unpacks the bags and neatly sorts the supplies into his cupboard.
"Come on, where are your friends?" Remus asks her as he washes the mug. He's tired today, and he just wants to sleep. Even if he really needs to study.
He finds the friends all curled up in his room. Three of them, entitled enough to claim his bed while he's gone. Remus lifts Marshbutton on to the bed as well. Surrounded by his four cats and a dozen textbooks, he falls into a tranquil sleep.