bookish_wolf (bookish_wolf) wrote in 80smarauders_ic, @ 2017-09-02 17:43:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, character: remus lupin, character: sirius black, date: 09-87, type: thread |
RP: Remus & Sirius
Who: Remus Lupin, Sirius Black
What: A drink after a long first day of work. And tensions
Where: Sirius' would-be club
When: Monday, 4 September, sometime after 6pm
Rating: Expect swears!
The first day of school had kicked Lupin's arse hard. He had been nervous whether or not he'd been prepared for his lessons, but what he hadn't been ready for was the bombardment of questions about his friend group and the war. Apparently, there were Gryffindors spreading rumors about some of the Order's activities a few years before and the new generation of Hogwarts had been gossiping about these happenings for quite some time, and what was truth versus fiction based on what the Prophet reported. Remus had already heard most of them, but he hadn't exactly been involved in the"youth culture" that was the 1980s wizarding school.
The Slytherins were another animal, entirely. They acted suspicious, clearly not ready to take his class seriously. The fifth and sixth years even tried to hex him behind his back. Lucky for Remus, he was quick on the draw enough to block them and take a few house points and give one detention to a rather nasty kid.
Needless to say, he didn't get any teaching done with those groups.
The Ravenclaws were interested enough, and Remus appreciated that class the most. Then there were the Hufflepuffs. Particularly, the 4th years who kept giggling in the back of the class and eying them. He recognized Nymphadora right away from his association with her parents, and the way she was watching him was...unsettling.
By the end of the day, he was exhausted and just wanted to lie down. But first, he needed to see an old friend. Dragging himself to the floo, Remus made his way to the half-finished club owned by none other than his best friend. He was still dressed in his "good" clothes when he padded through the door, his hands in his pockets, but his tie loose around his neck and his sleeves rolled up. His hair was messier than usual from his constant running of hands through it, a nervous tick he had when he was lecturing or answering students' questions.
"Hello? Padfoot, you around?"