Who: Severus Snape & Essery Oakby What: Date night. No, really. Where: Shoreditch, London When: Backdated - Saturday, Nov. 20th. Warnings: TBA
There were too many things about all of this that were new, or odd, or mildly uncomfortable, or that made him stop to second-guess - and it seemed beyond stupid that he should let clothes occupy even the smallest fraction of his attention. But it had been a couple decades since he'd come within ten feet of jeans. A short black woolen coat and one of his non-mutilated scarves helped allay the strange stark feeling of Muggle clothes, at least, and by the time he had Apparated away from the castle he felt more or less comfortable that he wouldn't stick out too terribly. He wasn't very good at blending in no matter where he went, but it was better than robes.
It wasn't that he didn't care where they were going. Of course he did - he hadn't thought about much else since she'd brought it up - he doubted he'd ever forget the details, because how could you when you dwelled on them this way - but more important, far more important, was that she had asked him and he'd been able to agree. Beyond that, he truly didn't know what he was doing. The street corner, at least, looked familiar in a generic way - a bit run down, a little grimy, dark and grey but clearly popular, full of people rather younger than him and wearing things that he was pretty sure had been in fashion when he was seventeen. Either nothing had changed, or everything had come round again.
"It looks something like I remembered it," he said, dry, glancing at the black boots of a passing young man that were almost indistinguishable from his own. "Less smoke." It made one feel a little less old.