The Runaway

Severus should have known that he wouldn’t have gotten away with his minimal list of things with Hope in charge of the shopping. She had taken one glance over, nodded, and herded both him and Rems towards the first clothes shop that came into view. It was of more modern tastes rather than the plain clothes he had been given to borrow.

“Anything here? They have a sale going on where you can get three shirts for the price of two. Not a bad deal, really.” She browsed through some shirts as Severus and Remus both looked around.

The two of them, Severus noticed, looked a bit out of place in this store. Both in button downs and corduroy amidst the art printed shirts and fad worker pants. He wanted to tell her that he wasn’t really enthused about the kind of clothes this store had to offer, but wasn’t sure how to avoid sounding entitled or ungrateful.

“Hm, nothing here looks like it would fit right. Do you see anything here you would like, Severus?” Hope was looking disappointed at the rack of shirts she had finished riffling through before looking to him. Her disappointment faded away to curiosity when she made eye contact with him. He found himself shaking his head.

“No, it’s…ah, too loud?” He looked around to try and find the correct words. “The colors are, uhm, too much.” His voice turned quiet, the feeling of being a bother yet again boiling in his stomach.

Remus stepped closer to his side and leaned on his cane too make himself smaller, “Perhaps we can go to the store I get my clothes at? I like that one, they have soft knit and a variety of colors aside form browns.” His voice was crackling as he addressed Severus and his mother, like the turning of old parchment. Severus felt his anxiety settle just a little bit.

“Good idea, honey. I think the more academic look is best for Severus now that I’m seeing what the other options are. How does that sound?” He found himself nodding even before she finished speaking. She smiled softly, “Let’s go then.”

They walked further down the strip, taking their time with Hope pointing out the different shops and sights they passed. As she spotted a small café, Severus caught sight of a book store. It was a drab looking shop, but the door was open to invite the summer air and he could see from where he stood that it was nearly bursting with books, both new and used.

Perhaps he could ask if they could at least look around when they were done.

They reached the clothes store shortly after. The vintage building seemed to compliment the mannequins posed in the large bay window at the front. They were dressed as though they belonged in an old library or even the courtyards of Cambridge. Plaid trousers, button downs, and knit vests promised comfort and beckoned them inside.

The interior was just as vintage as the exterior. The hardwood floors were once a deep brown, but the years of traffic had worn away the stain. The brick walls held aloft the different shirts, vests, sweaters, and blazers while shelves place here and there held the trousers. At the end was a counter with an elderly man standing behind it.

He was stooped, and dressed in the very clothes he sold in varying gradients of what could only be described as autumn yellow. He sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, showing the age spots on his thin arms. A measuring tape lay upon his shoulders like a thin scarf, and , as they got closer to him, Severus noticed he had a very worn notebook in a breast pocket. He looked completely at home and strangely very happy to see them.

“Hope and Remus, how are you two? Are you well?” He moved away from behind the counter and took Hope in a hug she readily returned. “Where is young Lyall?” His grey eyes crinkled in mirth.

“Lyall had to go to work this morning. We’re both well as can be in this weather, Olly. How have you been keeping? Still walking in the evenings?” She held the man’s hands as they parted, and Severus, feeling out of place, tried to shuffle behind Remus.

“Yes, yes. It’s the perfect time for walking, I say. Now then, who have you brought, and how can I help?” His eyes slide over and locked onto Severus with a focus that made him flinch. Remus slid almost effortlessly in between them, blocking Severus with his taller frame. It should have irked him, but he wasn’t used to any form of attention that wasn’t outrightly hostile so having a break from it was almost always welcome.

“We need some new clothes for my friend, Severus.” Remus spoke easily, “He’s looking to find good quality clothes for the future, and so we brought him here.” No mention of his depressing circumstances made Severus relax. Instead Remus’s crackling voice coaxed him to face the old man.

Olly nodded, grey eyes looking Severus up and down, assessing. He tried to tell himself that it was the man’s job. That he didn’t want to pick apart all of his flaws and throw them at his face. It worked for a little while, and he managed to not start shaking. A small victory considering his heart was acting like it was going into cardiac arrest.

“Very well, very well.” Olly murmured, “What are we thinking of getting?” He looked at Severus for the answer, so he pulled out his list for him to look over, not trusting his tongue to form words. Olly looked it over and nodded again. “Good, good. Come over here, young sir. We’ll get you measured and start going through the palettes.”

He began to usher Severus away from the other two towards the fitting corner. Panic must have leaked out on his face because some one spoke up. “May I join you?” Remus was already walking towards them.

“Of course! Take him over there and I’ll grab my pen. Blasted thing left my pocket again.” Olly pointed towards the mirrors as he went back to the counter.

Severus and Remus waited for him, Remus sitting on the guest couch as Severus stood there stiffly. They watched Olly shuffle things around, trying to locate the pen Severus could see resting behind his ear.

“What are you doing?” The question came out before he could think better of it. It made Remus’s gaze turn to him, the amber mimicking the color off caramel.

“What do you mean?”

“You. We are not friends, Remus. I can pretend well enough for the sake of your parents, but why are you acting like we’ve been friends for years in public? Not just here either. You did this at the other store too.” He met his gaze harshly as he tried to keep his voice down. He watched as Remus took in all of Severus’s image. Those eyes moving up and down on his person.

It made his skin burn and itch. He hated it.

“You’re wearing my clothes, Severus.” He murmured shortly.

“What does that have to do with it?” Once again Remus was making no sense and it was starting piss Severus off. “This morning in the kitchen and now this. Talk normally for once and not in little riddles that you find entertaining, Lupin.”

His voice was still quiet, but Olly was coming back now, taking his time as he pulled out the worn notebook and flipped through the pages. Severus didn’t notice Remus stand and step closer until they were almost toe to toe. He had to tilt his head a hair to look Remus in the eyes.

“You’re wearing a werewolf’s clothes and are living in it’s home.” A strong pause as Severus began to understand. “You smell like home, so it needs to protect it’s home.”

Olly came back and began speaking, but Severus couldn’t hear any words. Just stared dumbfounded at Remus who went to sit back down, looking all the world as though he didn’t just tell him that he was scent marked by a werewolf. Even if it was due to circumstance and not on purpose, Severus couldn’t help but want to scrub his skin raw to get whatever it was Remus was smelling off.

He was measured and moved, but he felt numb, mind whirling through what he knew about werewolves. He hadn’t looked through the chapter ever since the incident, so the knowledge was hazy at best. He couldn’t remember anything about territory or even marking. Just how long werewolf teeth were when they get close to your-

*

A violent flinch shook his whole body, and he pulled himself inward as he tried to block away the memory he almost managed to forget. He took deep breaths to avoid a panic attack he could feel forming.

He could feel Remus getting closer as well as Olly, both probably trying to figure out what happened. Severus was going to snap at the fucking animal pretending to be a teenage boy for getting close to him. For doing this to him.

But Olly got to him first.

He knelt down to Severus’s level on the floor, holding out his hands but never touching him. He might have been saying something, but all Severus could hear was the roaring in his head. He stared at those hands, unblinking.

Amidst the memory of pale moonlight and a boy screaming, he thought to himself that those hands were that of a worker. Hands that have never really known luxury. He traced the life lines with his eyes, trying to remember what they mean. He could never remember much of Divination. I think that line means happiness? Or perhaps fulfillment?

*

That was when he looked up to the old man’s face. Those eyes, now looking at him, were surrounded by laugh lines. Olly had been happy for a very long time.

“Are you going to be alright, young sir?”

“Everyone asks me that but I never know how they mean.” His voice was monotonous, trying to focus away from the incident and just on Olly. “How am I supposed to answer when I never know which right they're talking about?” He let Olly help him stand, though he couldn't remember how he ended up completely on the floor. “I- I'm sorry. We're supposed to be getting clothes. I'm being a bother again.”

Olly brushed him off in silence and started to measure his arms again. He would write down the numbers and hum, leaving Severus to wallow inside himself. Avoiding eye contact with the man, Severus noticed that Remus was no where to be seen. He was guided to a small end table with a binder, Olly’s movements becoming slow and purposeful. He was afraid that he was becoming tired, much like Hope, but the old man merely showed him the binder.

Inside were different cut outs of fabric, all in different colors. He touched them, feeling the tweed and linen beneath his fingers. It was then that Olly spoke.

“When I was a younger man, I would have dreadful memories come to me with no warning.” He voice was soft as he flipped through the pages. Some times taking one out to hold up next to Severus. “A simple act or a mere word would bring them, and all I could do was hope that they would go away fast enough. I didn't want to face them, they were so awful to have.”

He set aside the colors he seemed to approve of next to him, before putting then in a pattern only he knew.

“What happened?” Severus had whispered the question. What happened to this man, covered in memories of laughter, to warrant such an admission?

“My father,” Olly sighed as he finished and led him to the clothes displayed, “had a very firm hand and even firmer ideals. Ones that he, well, insisted that my mother and I follow to the letter. To not meet such ideals was to go against him. Oh, it was a dreadful experience. Sometimes I cannot remember if I was happy in my youth.”

He took down button downs and vests to hand to Severus who held them shaking.

“H-how..?” How did he leave? How did he move on? How did he survive?

“When people find out that you have had a dreadful youth, they want to apologize. To fix it. But, see here my boy, they cannot fix it.” He moved over to the trousers, Severus following blindly. “They cannot change what happened nor can they help you pretend nothing happened. When I left, ran away you see to start working, every one who found out wanted to try and heal a wound they never caused. To try and make up for things that I missed. It was nice, at first very thoughtful, but over time I realized I didn't want missed memories or apologies from them.” He stopped and sighed again. Severus waited for him, holding his breath. Everything was true. Just like him.

“What did you want?”

Olly smiled in a rueful manner. “I wanted someone to listen to me and not offer any solutions. I wanted them to just listen and say that I didn't deserve it. Because even though I would repeat those words in my head everyday, I needed to hear them from someone else so that they could echo in my heart. But more than anything I wanted an apology from the one who hurt me the most.”

Severus clutched the clothes close to his chest, trying not to cry even though his throat burned with the effort. “They won't. He's not even here anymore. He won't ever apologize.”

“Mine never did either. But I always made sure after that, that anyone who hurt me in anyway, apologized to me.”

“It should never have happened! He knew that and yet-” Severus wasn't sure who he was talking about. Tobias, Sirius, James, or even Remus. They all hurt him. They made him afraid to even talk much less look in the wrong direction. They made him pretend for all of the other people around.

They kept hurting him, and no one was telling them to stop.

“Have any of them apologized?” Olly asked quietly.

“No. None of them. And no one tells them to, and they never listen.”

“Has any of them tried and were you willing to listen? Were you ready to listen?”

What? “It's my fault? My fault that they never apologized?” How does that-

“No.” Olly’s voice was strict, much like Hope’s when she snapped in the kitchen. “No it is never your fault when you have been hurt. I only ask because you control when the apology happens.”

Severus swallowed thickly, and Olly led him back to the fitting rooms.

“How do…I control that? They’re the ones who say it, not me.”

“You tell them when you are willing to listen. It is harder to do then it sounds. Sometimes they will want to get it over and done with, but it is always the most inopportune times. Stand your ground and tell them when you are willing to listen. And always remember, my boy,” he looked Severus in the eye, his expression serious, “you do not have to accept an apology. You can acknowledge one, but you never have to accept one.”