seeing Peter's death in the papers
Cyprien knew immediately that something was wrong, knew it the night before, before word that anything had happened had gotten out. He knew it even before rising from the couch, nudging Septima from his lap to do so, and checking the plant, before the papers, before the neighbors, before anyone, that something was wrong with Peter. He watched as the plant he had been glad enough to tend at Peter's earlier request withered away, turning the ugly of red of danger, before returning to moderate health, changing to the pink colour it would remain for much of Cyprien's adult life. He walked away from it, and resumed his evening with the air of something definitively wrong, his wife unable to help noticing.
He did not sleep that night, but held his wife as he always did, lost in thought and worry. At dawn he made his way from her to the kitchen, for coffee and to await the paper.
It was not until page three that news of Peter surfaced. The first pages were lost in meaningless news of celebrations Cyprien could not attend, would never be able to celebrate, and then there it was. Such a terrible story... Would have been front page on any other day.
His wife walked in at her usual time, within minutes of the discovery, and glanced at the paper. She, like the Prophet's intended audience, was delighted, eager, smiling. Her husband was not. Wordlessly, he rose, kissed her, and Apparated to his remaining sister, his Beatrix.
She knew immediately that it was Peter again. He did not explain a word to her, despite knowing her copy of the Prophet had not yet been delivered. She led him to the back, from her husband and young child, knowing him so intimately that words were not shared. They sat on her bed, and Cyprien, for the first and last time, truly broke down.
