@sofiazabini
He should be at work. He didn’t need to take leave. He never did. Much less for the purpose of drinking Firewhiskey in the Leaky Cauldron. Molly was home, he could to her and she would help with all the paperwork - but it was bad enough to think about, he didn’t want to have to talk as well. Maybe that was why he’d been avoiding his siblings so much. The grief was terrible, a heavy weight no matter which moment he had to bear it in, but at least when it was Fabian alone, he didn’t have to say the words out loud.
And who knew it was so difficult to arrange a funeral? The parchment spread in front of him was seemingly endless. He had never had to consider such details before - he’d been fortunate, he supposed bitterly. But now with all these things to think about, he was anything but fortunate.
Athena’s tombstone, Athena’s flowers, Athena’s eulogy. All of it was wrong, none of the things he was supposed to think about her. No wonder he preferred to drink instead. Drowning your sorrows was a cliche for a reason - it didn’t really work, but it was more satisfying than not trying anything.
The liquid burned his throat as he picked up his quill again, re-scribbling a line about Athena’s love for her animals. It all sounded so meaningless. How could he sum up her life in words? She should still be living it. He tossed the quill away again in frustration, burying his forehead in his hands instead.