WHEN: 20 April, 1980 WHERE: the Twins’ flat, Puddlemere WHO: Gideon & Fabian Prewett
Now, as Fabian stood in the middle of his bedroom, sorting through drawers and expanding his suitcase inch by inch, he could scarcely remember anything about the past two weeks. Nights of neon lights and clanging cymbals bled together into one big blur, one that Fabian was eager to dive back into as soon as he finished packing. And yet---
Fabian balled up an old Gryffindor Quidditch shirt in his left hand as his eyes wandered around the room. How long the past two weeks had felt whilst he had suffered through them. How stale, and boring, and stretched thin they had become without his best friend by his side. Sure, the security gig Mary had landed him was fun, and the bandmates he worked for were nothing short of a good time. It was a welcome break from the Academy---both for Fabian, and his professors, who had jumped at the opportunity on his behalf with nothing but encouraging words. Maybe this was the breakthrough he needed, they had said. And maybe it was. But Fabian had little interest in his place at the Academy, when his place in his every day life seemed to wobble on crumbling foundation.
As though the universe had heard his thoughts, it unlocked the front door with a loud click. Fabian’s hair stood on edge at the back of his neck as he listened to Gideon shuffle inside. He tossed the old t-shirt into the corner of his room and swallowed.
“It’s just me.”















