There was only one thing to think about at the time being. Well only one thing that Adrian was going to allow him to think about. it certainly wasn't what Angelina had cornered him to discuss and push and nudge him into thinking about. Abso-fucking-lutely not. So quidditch it was and it was definitely for the better. Afterall, quidditch was the only damn thing keeping him in the country for the time being. One singular purpose and if he devoted himself to it he could do what he'd come here to do and then peace the fuck out of dodge once again.
He was however on a budget. The family money going to scholarships or some such rot. His own pay was... well he wasn't going to discuss what a reserve player made. But he needed new gloves and he was going to be damned if he couldn't afford them. Couldn't afford them and the vast amount of alcohol that the past week had required. He was rifling through the rows of product trying to find one that fit his exacting standards and the galleons he had in the bank.
It was giving him a damned headache.
The shop had been quiet so when the door chimed Adrian jerked his head up. What fresh hell was this... There was no mistaking the other man. Years out of the country and even the inability to follow quidditch as much as he would have liked didn't seem to make Oliver Wood unrecognizable. And look there he was headed toward him. OH JOY.
"Seriously Wood. Shouldn't you be compulsively waxing your broom somewhere." Like he'd just let him go by unnoticed.