McKay (scribbulus_ink) wrote in time_of_storms, @ 2006-02-07 09:05:00 |
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Entry tags: | chronological, lupin |
Remus: September 25, 1997
Original poster: werwolfoflondon
Music: The Other Side of This Life, Jefferson Airplane
Remus stood in front of the steam-covered mirror and scrutinized his reflection. When he came to Bulgaria, he thought he would find the werewolves here lived in the same conditions as they did at home, thus his appearance wouldn't make him stand out.
How wrong I was, he thought with a wry little smile as he ran his hand over his bearded chin. His clothes were clean, but they were patched and mended, and the colors were faded, and it was obvious even to a casual observer that he looked more like a poor relation than an envoy. How was he to convince anyone to help the Order when one look would illustrate the conditions werewolves lived in - conditions the Ministry enforced - all too clearly? His appearance undermined his argument, but there wasn't much he could do since he couldn't afford to buy new clothes. They would only end up in the same state once he returned to the camp anyway.
There was one thing he could do to make himself look a little more civilized and respectable, however.
Father Manette, who insisted on being called Henri, had offered to let Remus stay in the guest room of his small cottage. It was right next to the church, and Remus had noticed that the front door was unlocked, and he didn't sense the presence of any wards or other magical protections. Henri had given him a little nudge once they were inside, sending him off to the bathroom to clean off the dust of the journey from Durmstrang.
Remus had availed himself the luxury of a hot bath, and he had changed clothes, donning the set of robes that was the least obviously repaired. His hair was clean, dry, and well-brushed, and he thought about trimming it a bit, but he rather liked it long. The beard, he thought, could stand a trim. Or perhaps he ought to shave it off completely. He had grown accustomed to it, and it was certainly easier than trying to remain clean-shaven while living in the woods, but he preferred himself clean-shaven, his one experiment-gone-wrong with a mustache notwithstanding.
Henri had invited him to make himself at home, and so Remus took the liberty of rummaging through the cabinet for a straight razor and shaving soap, pleased when he found both. Humming quietly, he lathered his face and began to shave, wondering what Severus would think of the change. Severus hadn't expressed an opinion of the beard one way or another. Would Severus even care? Or was he indifferent to Remus' appearance, interested only in sex?