"Well that explains it then," Rus says with a snort. "Lucius is terribly vain." He gives Severus a long look. "You make it sound more like a club than a school," he comments. "No wonder you stuck around."
"But these are sleeping charms," Rus says plaintively. "I'd really rather not spend the rest of my life asleep, thank you very much." Since his own social skills are nearly non-existent, Rus doesn't really care about this. "I like Dickens a lot," Rus tells him. "So maybe I should read someone else."
"Even little fingers are almost impossible," he elaborates. "Fenrir didn't not want to be a werewolf," he says, ungrammatically but correctly. "He wouldn't have taken it even if it worked perfectly." Rus blinks. "Did he really?!"
"That's good," Rus concedes. "And I guess it's a plus that it's honest." If it is, sort of sneaks in from his subconscious. T1 blinks, frowns and shakes his head. He taps at one ear, puzzled.
"I mean not for money," T1 explains, having trouble concentrating for some reason. "Not right away." The two newcomers nod to T1 politely. They aren't thugs, not overtly. But there's an air of watchfulness about them that's unusual and the hands of both men are large, with the heavy thick, knuckles of fighting men.
Sev should definitely not mention steel teeth-caps to Rus. He'll have a set for every day of the week. ;) And if you want to know what I mean about hands, check out Liam Neeson's. He used to be a boxer and his hands are a mess!