·P·R·E·W·E·T·T·

INDIE FABIAN & GIDEON PREWETT

[llamentablle]

dragonologistic:

“I am nice! I’m nice to him, promise,” he said with a quick pout. He hated being scolded by his uncle. There was nothing worse than feeling like his favorite adult was upset with him. He wrapped his arms around Fabian, hugging him tightly, nearly dropping the tickets in his frenzy.

“Wha– no! We gotta go! We can’t miss it!”

“We can’t?” Laughing warmly Fabian wasted no time in offering the boy in his arms a firm squeeze. Delighting in his childlike wonder. The war was growing worse and worse with each passing day but the boys made it all worthwhile. 

“What if you’ve got a playdate that day?” 

[llamentablle]

muse--minded:

Molly had learned not to gasp or shout when she saw the various injuries her brothers got into- Merlin knew she’d seen enough of them to last her a lifetime- but her mouth still twisted into a worried frown. She had a sneaking suspicion that he wasn’t telling her the truth, but she wanted to believe him, so she didn’t say anything other than, “Come over here, then, sit down, let me get that salve.”

“Got a bit of leather for me to bite on? A wooden spoon perhaps?” Trying to keep the tone light he obeyed, falling into a chair with a pained wheeze. Oh, how he ached. The jinx had been bad enough, but crashing down on the somewhat frozen dirt below had done most of the damage. “You’re lookin’ well.”

[llamentablle]

thewrongsorts:

“That’s a shame.” Manon smirked back at him for a moment before running a thumb over her cheek, finding the rough cut under the rest. It stung, but not badly. Probably it would only scar if she didn’t take care of it. “Ouais.” She scrubbed some of the blood away, shrugging. “Not so badly, though.”

“Don’t worry love, only on workin’ hours.”

“Would you like some help? Maybe a plaster and a stiff drink?” She seemed to be in perfect health, barring her cut, but it was late and leaving her to face the elements wasn’t his style. “Say, my place?”

[llamentablle]

thewrongsorts:

“I thought we just agreed my cooking wasn’t better, anyhow?”

Alice watched them process, her eyes still crinkled with a poorly-contained smile. She managed not to bounce on her heels, at least. ( They hoped not to ever need godfathers to hand their child over to…. But for the moment that anxiety took a back seat to gratefulness— for the baby, for this moment, for ever meeting people she loved this much… )

She’d meant to tease so much longer, but:

“Probably why he was Frank’s vote.” A second passed, then she grinned up at Gideon, tilting her head far enough to see his face that she was essentially leaning into his arm and squinting jokingly. “You know how I love bad decisions.”

The reality of what she was asking was starting to set in and good humour melted into touched disbelief. Swallowing hard Gideon let out a nervous chuckle. “You’re not serious?”

Fabian, however, knew she was as serious could be despite her jubilation. “You’re both mad.”

“I wouldn’t trust us with a pygmy puff...Augusta is going to freak when she finds out.” That alone was sure to make Alice double down on her choice, but the idea of being trusted with something so precious made their heads spin. 

[llamentablle]

@prodigalpercy

he knows uncle fabian is only being nice. it’s in his nature. percy appreciates it, but he’s not TIRED. it might been 48 – no 58? maybe 60 hours since he last slept, but he’s not tired. he can keep going. there’s deep bags under his eyes, and he’s afraid of stopping. in the quiet of his bedroom, all he can hear is screaming. “i don’t need to.” he murmurs. “i’m fine.”

“Tha’s cute.”

“You assumed I was asking Percy. You haven’t done that since you were a kid. Bed. Now.” Ordering around a grown man was strange, but he was certain he’d have the nerve to order Dumbledore around if he had pulled something so self-destructive. 

Fabian understood not wanting to stop for fear of the mind catching up, but not sleeping was admitting defeat. “Delaying it will only make it worse.”

[llamentablle]

@firstingenerations

“I…” The blank spots in her memories had filled slowly since Harry and Ron had gotten her out. She remembered it all, commanding every attack, her fear mingling with Tom’s satisfaction with each attack, his will quashing her attempts to reach out through letter or conversation. “The last time… He made me kill another rooster before I went in. I remember- I remember writing that message on the wall before going to the chamber.”

Ginny curled in on himself. “He… talked to me. When he waited for me to die. Every- everything I told him he turned against me. And then it all got dark. Next thing I knew, Harry was there, Tom was gone, and the basilisk was dead.”

“I’m sure you’re sick of people tellin’ you they’re sorry, eh?”

Crouching down to sit next to Ginny Gideon let out a low sigh, taking in the rare quiet of their kitchen. There was no way he’d ever understand the horror she endured; the trauma she would have to live with, but he did understand living with the impossible. People never understood. “Tha’s the part I hate. Well wishes. They mean nothing, and they’re only said to make everyone else feel better.”

She was only eleven, but he wouldn’t pay her the indignity of talking down to her. 

[llamentablle]

@xmusiisms

“You need your eyes checking before your next assignment, Prewett. Arrange it tomorrow morning.” Not that Alastor is overly concerned about his appearance, but people usually see him coming and turn to walk the other way. He’s not a pretty sight these days; already a chunk is missing from his nose; one eye is missing, replaced by a magical glass eye that never seems to sit still; his leg is missing and the rest of him his generally scarred, weathered and worn.

“—On the other hand, I’ll have a measure of whatever you’ve been drinking.”

“Come now, self-deprecating does no one any good.” Chuckling Gideon shook his head, relaxing into his chair with the utmost of ease. The Carnival of horrors that was Alastor Moody didn’t seem to have anything left to shock him. “Met a woman in Perth last year. She went wild when she saw the nasty scarring I’ve got on my shoulder. Insisted men with scars is sexy...besides, you’re-” Gideon wasn’t sure what he meant to say, but handed his flask over obediently. “-solid.”

[llamentablle]

@thekingofweasels

“No! I dunno wot’s goin’ on exactly, but ‘m not runnin’ away!  ‘m not – ‘m not a COWARD.”  Stubborn as always, that Ron Weasley. It’s almost surprising that he doesn’t stop his foot as if he was still a petulant toddler. It’s foolish, of course, but Ron wouldn’t be a Gryffindor (or a Weasley) if not for the reckless streak that colours his behaviour. As evidenced here, as he folds his arms across his chest and refuses to leave his uncle’s side.

     “– Besides. I dunno which way North is anyway.”

“You’re not a coward, but you’re being a bit of a tit.”

“Ronald, listen. There is no shame in retreating. Sometimes you need to pull back to get a strategic advantage. You’ve never moved a piece back on the board when playing chess? Think of that much like this.” Drawing his wand Fabian glanced back at the still silent treeline; something didn’t seem right. “Besides, I’m not asking you to run away and leave me. Find Gideon, tell him where I am and then get your siblings out of these fucking woods.” 

Stilling for a moment he turned to give Ron a warm smile before to his left. “North would be that direction, by the way.”

[pinkfuloyd]

trainspotting.

[llamentablle]

xmusiisms:

“Am I really?” If he had a heart that worked, he’d be touched — but he doesn’t ( it hasn’t worked in years ) and he isn’t ( nothing touches him these days ). He kinda-sorta understands where Prewett is coming from, but he views the Order as just lives to guard from potential harm ( and he’s not doing a very good job so far, is he? ). “Maybe the locals could use a good scare.

… Might spark some brain cells into life.”

“Bit of a grumpy old cock at times but yes, my friend. If I ever have the questionable fortune to marry I’ll see to it that you’re a groomsman.” Despite believing he’d never marry Gideon didn’t doubt that he would hold up that offer, just to see what Alastor would do. 

Shaking his head he relaxed into the chair, finding comfort in the cantankerous Auror's consistency. “Wouldn’t count on it.”

[llamentablle]

tendercuriiosity:

@llamentablle // liked for a starter

She studies the man for a moment, she seems to be doing that a lot recently, staring into the distance or at the people around her as if she’ll find some sort of answer to her questions in these things when she’d probably have more luck with the dregs in her teacup, “Godric would have liked you,” she finds herself saying, it seeming rude to watch without initiating a conversation.

“I’m going to take that as a compliment.”

Sparing the woman across from him a bewildered look Gideon looked back down at the bloody rag resting on the table. His wounds were far from severe, and he’d been cleared to go, but he preferred to do so in a presentable way. The ritual of cleaning up dried blood gave him a chance to ignore the identity of their newest guest. Even if she was who Dumbledore claimed she was he couldn’t fathom why she’d been let in so easily. She wasn’t a member, and while he doubted she’d take the Dark Mark any time soon it still seemed like a risk. “Settlin’ in alright?”

[llamentablle]

@thewrongsorts for Alice

“I don’t know where you hear this tripe, Gid. I never get caught.”

“Bullroar, I’ve caught you loads of times.”

[llamentablle]

@thewrongsorts for Charlie

“See, that doesn’t feel very loving.”

“Consider it tough love.”

[majestic-scotsman]

Ewan McGregor photographed by Henrik Jordan (1997)

[llamentablle]

dragontamingweasley:

Give him a dragon. Give him a dementor. Give him a scary beast he could either defeat or treat like a baby and not this ghost of a memory in front of him. “What happened?!No let me go mum. You better have a good explanation for why you…” he broke in tears and the only way to cope was to resort to acting like a child.

He was usually so calm and laid back yet this touched a nerve. “Do you even know how much we cried for you huh? Bill… Bill went to school thinking he might be waving good bye to all of us for the last time. I…i still thought you were pulling a elaborate joke because…” He wiped his tears and sat on the floor sobbing. This was a bad idea. This was a terrible idea and probably not helpful to his ailing uncle either. He cried into his elbow and extended an arm for his uncle to hold his hand, to prove that he was really there and not an illusion of some kind.

“I...don’t. I don’t have anything to say that will make this okay.”

“I’ve got nothing.” His words rang truer than he’d like, but what was there to say. His nephew believed the war had taken him away and in that regard he’d been right. Each furiously pained sound Charlie made Fabian’s heart drop a fraction more. He’d endured torture and starvation, agony upon injustice as the years crept by, but knowing he had done this to his family seemed worse by comparison. 

They should have just died. 

Gently, with a cool trembling hand, Fabian grasped Charlie’s. Try as he might his grip was still weak, but it was there. He was no phantom. With an unsteady step closer, Fabian debated pulling the young man in for a hug. Unsure if he was still allowed he rested an open palm on the now shaking shoulder of his nephew. 

[llamentablle]

@proditeur

“No one here wants to hurt you.”

For the most part, Fabian spoke honestly, his voice soft as he crouched in front of the young man’s chair. Regulus had been easy to identify once they removed his mask, and even easier to restrain when he had been unconscious and now he sat in the chair they’d charmed to the floor. Thick binding around his ankles and wrists kept him still; heavier still were the ropes around his torso that fixed him in place. As Regulus came too all he could do was move his head. 

“But I’m willing. Don’t make me hurt you. Speak, I’ll listen. This doesn’t have to end poorly for you.”

[majestic-scotsman]

Ewan McGregor photographed by Wayne Maser (1999)