"Yeah, yeah, I'll get right on that," he told Emily, having heard her line about wanting a car before. He waved her off.
Watching Remus shrink, he poked his tongue in his cheek. It was hard not to show his amusement. He took a step forward, intruding on the boy's personal space. "You seem like," a good kid? "a forty-year old librarian, actually." It was a bit odd. He shrugged, seeming a bit casual. As he progressed, though, his tone became more serious, and his eyecontact was intense. "Much as I might prefer tweed to some rockstar wannabe's leather jacket, it doesn't really matter if I like you, see? I'm Emily's dad, and it's my job to make sure you think I am the scariest motherfucker on the planet. Now, I can see you're scared. That's good. You remember that fear, and everything'll be just dandy."