Who: Sirius Black, James Potter What: Chillin' out, maxin', relaxin' all cool Where: Hair of the Dog When: August 29th
It wasn't all that impressive. Their shop, that was.
Well. It wasn't really a shop. It was an apothecary with a scarce number of supplies because James had stolen some once and Sirius --had not stolen some once. At least not in large quantity. He tried finding useful things behind the door when he could, and things could be copied as needed sometimes but it was still rather sparse.
Maybe because Sirius was better at planning parties and running off with Remus more than he was managing any sort of business. Even if it wasn't a business because there was no for-profit part in the equation. Still, sometimes it was nice to feel responsible.
And sometimes it was nice to pretend he was being responsible all while not being. Like now, for example, when he was sprawled out on top of the glass countertop that was housing the few potions they had on hand. Probably he should be making more. Maybe checking in with Bill about some collaboration. Something like that.
But for now lounging was nice.
"We need a portable record player for in here," he told James, tapping his foot on the glass.