not afraid of the dark

fabian prewett. 26. twin & unspeakable. order of the phoenix . there's always another Mystery

[unspeakableprewett]

mcllywecsley‌:

Molly had no comfort to grant her grieving brother. There were many chances of this happening again, maybe not as horridly as Athena’s death, but their world was not getting anymore safe. The darkness was gathering, they would all need to fight against it in their own way. Her contribution was supporting her family and friends, hiding them and keeping them safe. All she could do was listen to Fabian, her heart aching as he said that he might not always be around. It sounded innocent enough, but she knew what else those words meant, the meaning they bore. “You will always be here in spirit no matter where you roam,” she commented softly, but she could not leave it at that. “Nothing is going to happen to you. You better not allow anything to happen to you.” She knew that something could, something probably would, but she was sure not going to let herself believe it. She needed to believe her beloved brothers would come through this darkness unscathed. Molly had to believe that.

She drank a sip of her tea, her eyes still on Fabian as she thought. In many ways, Molly would prefer not to know whatever trouble he had gotten himself into or Order business, but she also knew she needed to support him. “Most likely not - but you still need to tell us,” she replied truthfully.

It had pained him to say that to his sister. Molly had always been there for him, there was no-one he looked up to more. And he knew that he and Gideon had made things hard on her. The loss of Athena only served more to remind them all that they were in danger. As much as he did not want to die, though, there was something comforting in the thought that he would be remembered, that he would always have a place here. He nodded in response to her words, not wanting to say more about it, but deeply grateful for the love in them. “Gid and I will protect each other. Don’t worry about us. You’ve got enough to worry about, with all your little troublemakers,” he finished off, managing a final laugh as he let some of the painful sincerity drop in favour of his favourite subject. 

Possibly, he shouldn’t tell Molly anything, given that she wasn’t part of the Order. No, not possibly - he knew Dumbledore and Moody would disapprove. And more than that, the more Molly knew, the more in danger she’d be. But Fabian had the habit of telling her everything, he didn’t know how to change that. “Then I will. There’s not much good news at the moment, though. And honestly, there’s never much we can do. We can’t kill them. We can’t even arrest them. All we can do is try to stop them. And clearly, we don’t do a very good job at that.” This time, his laugh was bitter, not fond. “Maybe that’s why I went to see Bellatrix,” he admitted, the attempt at being casual failing as his eyes darted to Molly’s face, knowing he’d see disapproval there. 

[polyglotdubois]

Clothes Maketh The Man || Elizabeth & Fabian

[unspeakableprewett]

polyglotdubois‌:

Elizabeth could feel the other was so opposed to the idea of relaxing it was making her stiff. So with a put-upon huff she rose to her feet and pulled out her wand, walking a circle around them and casting every protection and repellant spell that came to mind and since starting her mission in the Order she’d learned plenty.

When she was finished she sat once more and chuckled, “I’m not a complete monster, I left him a coat and a compass.” she told him with a wink, “I’m a lady after all.” She was very much in bulldozer mode at the moment and she was determined that he have at least some fun before the day was through, sometimes a person needed some aggressive cheering up since they were aggressively sad. Sadness didn’t stand a chance against someone like her and she’d make certain it stayed that way.

“Oh utterly terrified, I don’t know if you’ll survive the experience.” she told him lightly, a devilish grin on her lips before she popped a small sandwich into her mouth and let out a happy moan, “Oh God I forgot how good Chef’s homemade ham was.” she sighed and grabbed another one. At his question she looked back at him and smiled, “Our comrades. We’re a team, no one person can fight every battle, endure every hardship, Fabian. We we need to be held other can hold is and be strong, then we’ll do the same for them.”    

He watched Elizabeth perform security spells with a growing smile. It was clearly for his sake, she seemed almost indignant about it. After she had finished casting the last one, Fabian caught her eye, “I’m sorry. I’m being very ungrateful. Please don’t think I don’t appreciate this. It’s more than I deserve, really, but you ... well, you’re a good friend and a kind soul. I appreciate it.”

Even if he wasn’t in the mood for a picnic, not in the mood to enjoy anything at all, really, it still meant something that he had friends that would try.  It wouldn’t alter the grief he felt, but sitting here in companionable cheer, Fabian felt he could at least smile again. It was a hard won smile, considering the lengths Elizabeth had gone to for all this, but it was there. 

He took a bite of his own sandwich, chuckling slightly at her enthusiasm. “Perhaps I shouldn’t be thanking you after all. It seems as if this is as much for you as it is for me,” Fabian teased, looking around his surroundings. Perhaps it was the extra security of the charms helping him be at ease, but it did seem so peaceful here. He liked it, even though typically his idea of comfort was the chaos and noise of the Burrow, and his nephews playing there. She was right, these moments were important. He began nodding slowly, the realisation sitting in reluctantly. “It’s more comforting to rage alone sometimes,” he admitted. “To hate, to be angry. I can’t do that with my friends around me. You remind me too much of the better way.” 

[thehalfbloodprince-always]

An Unfortunate Meeting

[unspeakableprewett]

thehalfbloodprince-always‌:

Reddened eyes, full of rage as Fabian turned to him. Severus Snape expected nothing else. He wasn’t welcome here. Because of what he had been… a part of who had killed the woman he loved. Meeting Fabian’s gaze, Severus’ eyes were just as red, his cheeks stained form the tears he had shed. Black eyes, full of sorrow, desolation, and anguish. A traitor. The word was a pain in his heart - knowing he had been the reason Rodolphus went after her; had killed her. Someone Snape had once called friend. And Fabian represented everything against that - encompassing and radiating light and goodness.

The words stung, but that didn’t make them any less the truth. Any less painful. However, Severus did not lash out. Not here. Not today. Not ever with Athena’s family. Snape was grateful that Fabian had not pulled out his wand, keeping calm as well. His eyes looked over the grave, beginning to become misty once more. The emotions built up in his throat, stuck there. Still, Severus managed to say what he needed to. “Athena and I loved each other. As hard as that is to believe, it’s true,” he gulped, a tear running down his cheek, “I came to say farewell…” his voice faltered and once more looked to Fabian, “and keep my promise to her in saying goodbye to you,” his eyes kept on the other’s for a long moment, until looking back to the grave.

Yes. He’d been with her. Watched it all. Held her in his arms as she breathed her last breath. Closing his eyes tight, Severus tried to keep more tears from falling as he read her name on the headstone. Their future had been so bright… “It was a curse. I don’t know what it was, as he put the cruciatus on me when he used it on Athena…” turning to Fabian, he stated clearly, “You know who it was…” Rodolphus hated Fabian enough that everyone knew.  Looking to the grave once more, his voice was shaken, Severus whispered, “I’m sorry I wasn’t fast enough…” goodbye, my love.

He didn’t know what to think as he looked at the man Athena had loved. Every part of Fabian wanted to revolt against that, hate him, blame him, curse him. Yet he couldn’t help but see, even through his own despair, how much Severus Snape appeared a broken man. A mirror, even, of Fabian’s grief. 

It stayed his hand, although it remained at his side, clenching into a fist as if to keep himself from reaching for his wand. “I believe she loved you. That’s not hard to believe. That was my cousin.” Fabian’s voice struggled to remain even, watching a tear fall from Snape’s dark eyes. What was difficult to believe was that a Death Eater would bother faking emotion. Then again, Bellatrix had often pretended love for him, too. “She wrote me a letter about you. Her last letter, probably.” It remained in his pocket, he didn’t know if he wanted to tell Snape that. For one thing, he didn’t want to give the letter up, Athena’s last words to him. Coldly, he added, “I also made her a promise. One I can never keep now.”  To give Snape a fair chance. To listen to Athena, to trust in her faith in the man she loved. But she was dead. The promise was broken by that alone. 

Snape looked at the grave and Fabian wondered what he was thinking. Then he had to recoil, hating to hear this description of his cousin’s last moments. He felt a chill run down his spine as Snape turned to him, “I know? What are you saying?” It was Bellatrix on the other side, always Bellatrix to him when he thought of them. Who else would make knowledge personal to him? It hit him quickly, the blind spot that he should never have missed. “Lestrange? Rodolphus? That’s what you’re saying?” He barely caught the murmur Snape let out next, stepping forward and grabbing him by the shoulder instead. He felt almost entirely numb, this new knowledge making instant sense of the pain in his heart. His fault. Really and truly his fault. But he was not going to bear it alone. “You were one of them, Snape, I know you were. So if you really loved her, you’re going to help me. After all, if what you’re saying is true, then it’s both of our faults she’s dead.” Snape could help him get to Rodolphus, he wouldn’t ask for more for than that.   

[unspeakableprewett]

chrisxtraves‌:

Christopher was getting very tired of Fabian trying to tell him how to do his job. Maybe he wanted to get him to get a reaction out of him to slip up, or maybe he’s just focused on his mission. He could have smirked at his anger, but this would only antagonize him more and he was getting tired of this conversation. Christopher just stared at him while he ranted waiting for him to finish. The means justify the end, Travers, keep the anger to yourself. “You’d know that it’s not my call to release the information, I am not the head of my department, and said head has expressed the importance of us not making sudden movements-” he was going to continue before he asked one question he had been wanting to be answered. “Why did you ask me?” he asked lightening his voice with honest curiosity “I’m sure you know that the higher officers are not only on the case, but they were also first on the scene. So why come ask me?”

The change in his tone had caught him off guard and got him to stop shouting. I have his attention now he thought smugly but he’d never show it. Christopher wasn’t out of the woods yet, but he was in control that he could certainly work with. Chris nodded at his response he doubted that the boy was lying about the family grieving. He was almost certain that they were struggling to come to terms with what happened, he sent them his condolences of course. “I get no personal joy out of not telling your family, I do not wish this kind of pain on any family.” he whispered “having experienced it myself”.The lack of a personal response told him enough, there was a high chance that whatever person named would most likely be murdered instead of facing trial. It seemed that Fabian, even though clearly beside himself, had some sense of wits about him yet. “The reason we cannot speak about it is that if something happens to them, the rest will either run or do something even worse, that is what we fear.” He may have been improvising but by no means was he lying if even one of his fellow death eaters got caught they could and would make puddlemere look like heaven compared to the hell they would raise.

Chris let out an exhausted sigh “if we go after people like rabid animals we will be treated like rabid animals and put down.” “For your family don’t do anything stupid and lose yourself trying to get justice for your cousin, I can assure you it will hurt worse, losing you too.” Christoper wasn’t one to open up to people, hell at this point he was will to say just about anything to get Fabian off his back. He knew that eventually he would calm down and probably kick himself for being so obvious. Today was not that day and Chris wants to make sure everyone else knew as such. “My father did the same thing after my mother was killed, he was a shell of himself and drowned in his grief until it killed him. He didn’t think I noticed but I did, watched him slowly fade until he was gone.”

It was a difficult question to answer. True enough, he knew Travers wasn’t the highest officer in the department, that he had relatively little control over the case in comparison to some. So perhaps it wasn’t information but the desire for a fight that had brought Fabian to him. Though it couldn’t be proven that Travers was one of the Death Eaters, the Order did have whispers and whispers were enough for Fabian right now, with the desire for revenge so hotly burning. 

That didn’t make it wise. “I’m asking anyone who works for your department.” It was not really a lie. “I care very litte about hierarchies right now.”  He was so weary of all of it, and the not having answers seemed to make it worse for all of them. Athena’s parents were perhaps suffering the most, but Fabian ... well, Fabian had it worse for having been there, at the attack. Had he taken more care of his own family, he might have stopped Athena’s death. He didn’t regret his work for the Order but in this case, it was painful to think about. As much as he wanted to hate Travers, there appeared to be a note of genuineness in his sympathy now that was confusing. Fabian ignored it rather than engage, he was equally weary of expressions of sympathy anyway. “They’re going to do worse whatever you do. I may not know much about their movements, but I think I can guarantee that.” 

He was gaining little from this conversation, beginning to regret the choices that had led him here. He did not want Travers’ advice, to hear his personal stories or be turned from the path that Fabian had already set himself upon. “Save your concern. I don’t need it. All I want from you is answers. If you can’t give them to me, then I”ll get them myself. Thanks for your time,” he finished bluntly, already turning away with a bitter feeling of disappointment. A wasted effort. 

[unspeakableprewett]

mcllywecsley‌:

“Fabian, you cannot be there by the side of those you love all the time just in case something should happen to them,” Molly protested softly, knowing too well how true that statement was. Her heart jumped in her throat whenever Bill and Charlie raced outside to play, afraid that whenever they were out of her sight, they would be snatched by the Death Eaters. Yet she had obligations to her other children, to her husband and their home, and she could, and would, not prevent them from playing, no children should be prevented that. While she desperately wished her cousin could have been saved, she could not help but think if he had been there by her side, her brother would have been gone too. She could never have coped with losing them both in one horrible swoop. 

“You were fighting your own battles, no one would understand that more than Athena. No one blames you, so you better stop blaming yourself or I will have to knock some sense into you.” All her words were gentle, a tiny smile spread on her lips at her last words, but soon it died as sorrow forced it way back into her mind and heart. “We still have each other, Fabian,” Molly reminded him while taking his hand. “We need to stay together as a family, which means you are never to avoid me again. It helps none of us.” This time her tone was more serious. “Stay awhile, play with your nephews, talk to me and Arthur. Please?”   

He kept his eyes on his cup of tea, feeling emotion well up at the empathy in Molly’s voice. He knew she, better than anyone, understood what he was feeling. She had loved Athena, too, and their worst fears were exactly the same. Fabian could well imagine how she must feel as a mother in these times. “I know that. But I also know now how it feels when something does happen. The thought of it happening again ...” he broke off, not wanting to continue, to describe the agonising images that Molly must see more than anyone else.

There was usually so much noise and life at the Burrow, even now he could hear the hum of activity. His head rose, meeting his sister’s eyes once more, though he couldn’t entirely match her smile. Molly’s hand gripped his and Fabian felt the relief that came with knowing she was still here. There was so little else to feel relief about, all that had lingered in his heart for days was grief and regret. “I don’t doubt your ability to knock sense into me. I know how good you are with a hex. I’m here to stay, I mean that. Even if I’m not always around ... for whatever reason that might be...” And there could be many. His own grief getting the best of him, but Order missions, too - he coulnt’ forget that he might be the next person to disappear. “I’ll still love you all.” He managed a smile now at the thought of the children. “Can’t turn down that offer. Either of them. But you might not like what I say.” She would certainly not like the way he’d gone after Bellatrix, nor yet his plans to find out the truth about what had happened and get whatever revenge was possible.

[polyglotdubois]

Clothes Maketh The Man || Elizabeth & Fabian

[unspeakableprewett]

polyglotdubois‌:

She’d been described as the world’s prettiest bulldozer by her mother in jest once and honestly the image had stuck with her; Elizabeth rather liked it. She would clear any obstacles to get what she wanted but always with the best intentions, in this case, to help a friend get over something that no one should have to deal with alone.

Elizabeth nodded happily, “Yes, I summered here for four years with my parents, we’ve got a cottage on the edge of the park.” she told him lightly, “Oh be grateful, a muggle stood me up once and I apparated him to the top of Everest and left him there.” The curl of her lips enough to infer her jest despite her blasé tone.

“That’s more like it.” Came her chirpy reply, “And when we’re done here I have another surprise planned so no more thoughts of work; the bad guys will still be there when you head back.” she told him, grabbing a plate of expertly prepared sandwiches, a steaming pot of tea and two mugs from the basket; she pouted them each a cup before grabbing a few more plates and piling them high with sandwiches and then a few cakes, “Perfect.” she told him, taking a sip of her tea. “See, it’s good to take a little time and remind yourself what you’re fighting for.” she gestured at the forest around them, “This. Peace. Balance.” she clinked her cup with his, “Friendship. But, while you’re fighting for it, you gotta remember to still enjoy it, hmm?”   

He couldn’t quite relax, looking around out of the corner of his eyes. Maybe it was Moody getting to him, or maybe his recent hypervigilance was simply wisdom. He was living with a newfound paranoia, even now in a place Fabian was certain no one could or would have followed them to. 

Even so, he tried to match Elizabeth’s lighthearted joking. The feeling of knowing his friends worried for him was an equally unsettling one that Fabian tried not to encourage.  “I hope you at least left him with a Warming Charm,” he said back, relaxing into his seat. Though it was difficult to relax when Elizabeth appeared almost to be threatening him into having a good time. That actually did have the effect of making Fabian smile. It reminded him of his sister. 

“Another surprise? How afraid should I be?” he asked with an amused huff, watching her pile more and more sandwiches onto a plate. Though he couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten, so perhaps that wasn’t a bad thing either. It was peaceful here, he could see that.  He supposed to the people here, England’s war was only headlines in a newspaper, something distant and sad, perhaps, but not something to be altogether bothered about. “And yet, if we spend too much time enjoying it, who fights?” 

[unspeakableprewett]

benjyfvnwick‌:

Benjy frowned at Fabian’s words. He hadn’t considered that - and it had been an advanced time spell too, something that he’d never seen before. “It was a strange spell. It made the air thick and heavy, and everything was slower. The spells took an age to reach me, as if they were travelling through honey. Everything took so much longer, and as soon as the spell was released everything crashed down. Blood started pouring rather than dripping. I’d be morbidly interested to know what spell he used…the motion was turning his wand anticlockwise in a wide circle, if I remember correctly.” It was difficult to talk about, but Fabian was a wizard of great skill - if anyone could help him identify it, it might be him.

“I bet Flourish and Blotts have some copies somewhere…or maybe a second hand bookstore. Although I’d love to see Bill and Charlie…I can ask them all about Miggs for research, and see what they’d like to see from a comic. Maybe when the war is over I can probably pursue this…I’d love to be a comic book author. They bring me such joy, y’know? I’d love to bring light to other people’s lives like it’s brought joy to mine.”

Benjy turned gingerly to face Fabian better, trying not to get too hopeful. He knew what the healers and the specialists had said - it was unlikely he’d ever get those memories back, it wasn’t a usual obliviate - but the research that went on in the Department of Mysteries was something the specialists wouldn’t know yet. “I’d really appreciate that….if you could try, at least. If if fails, then there’s no harm done. They’re already gone…but if you could get them back. It’s little things that hurt the most - maybe Alex could remind me, or photos, but it’s not the same as having the first-hand memory. It’s been so difficult carrying on without them, and now I’ve lost so much of them. I’d really appreciate if you could help me out.”

The more he listened to Benjy’s explanation, the more frustrated he became. He should know - or at least have some idea. That was supposed to be his contribution to the Order, knowledge. “I don’t know,” Fabian admitted at last, reluctance clearly present. “Time is not something I’ve ever even tried to look into. It certainly doesn’t sound like something the average witch or wizard could do.” Which made whoever had tortured Benjy was most likely of exceptional skill, and perhaps inner circle. “I’ll keep an eye out for information.” 

He nodded his head, not quite smiling. Fabian felt too unnerved whenever someone said those words, when the war is over. It felt too much like tempting fate. It was hard to imagine that day, anyway, though he certainly hoped Benjy got the happiness he deserved. “An Order of the Phoenix series, perhaps,” he tried to tease. “Moody’s our fearless leader. And then the rest of us help save the day. Just make sure I look more heroic than Gid, alright?” 

The look in Benjy’s eyes was cautious (as were his words), but trusting. Fabian felt a wrench of worry at the possibility that he’d be able to do nothing, but he had to at least try.  For one thing, he felt he understood now how much more precious memories were when the person was gone. He would never see Athena again, all any of her loved ones had left were memories. The thought of them being gone was a painful one. He clapped a gentle hand on Benjy’s shoulder. “I’ll do whatever I can. Which might be nothing, but those memories are important. The most important thing. I’ll not be taking this lightly.” He couldn’t promise to get them back, but he could promise that. 

[unspeakableprewett]

sofiazabini‌:

She was still holding his hand, Sofia realised, while they spoke of her dead husband. His relative. She squeezed his hand gently as if to say ‘don’t worry about it’, shaking her head slightly. “Nathaniel was a good man, but flawed. I believe that he married me as a front, so he could remain with his muggle lover but have the appearance of being an upstanding pure-blood so as to not alienate some of his more, shall we say, fanatical customers. He may as well have torn my heart out and stood on it,” Sofia said, though her brow quirked up at the way Fabian had stumbled over his words. 

Her eyes fell back down to the parchment that lay between them, funeral preparations were a heavy burden to bear - especially if thinking about his lost loved one made him so careless and reckless. “Perhaps you need a distraction…that does not lie at the bottom of a bottle. Funeral preparations can wait, take time for yourself,” Sofia suggested quietly. “Otherwise you may find yourself in a situation that you don’t know how to get out of.”

He felt uncomfortably guilty whenever Nathaniel was brought up, he didn’t like being reminded of the fact that Sofia was his (very recently) dead cousin’s wife. His sense of family loyalty told him he owed more to Nathaniel than what he currently felt, which was almost entirely dislike. Especially for how he treated Sofia - and the muggle lover too. Nathaniel had been weak, although Fabian supposed the culture he had been raised in had something of the blame.  As it was to blame for so much worse. “You’re probably right. It’s not the greatest crime all this pureblood mania has to answer for, but it’s a symptom of it. You deserved better.” 

“I can’t - I owe her.” That was his first response, his gut reaction to the idea of putting the parchment aside. Then he looked at his near empty glass. That wasn’t doing Athena any good. “Even if I should, it’s hard to think of a distraction. There’s nothing I want anymore. I feel entirely empty.” Though perhaps it wasn’t true to say there was nothing he wanted.  He was conscious of her hand still in his and brushed his thumb across Sofia’s skin, gazing at her with a clear longing. He might barely know her, and he didn’t love her, and yet everything about her - especially now, when he felt so empty - made Fabian crave more.  “Or at least, the thing I want, it’s something I shouldn’t want.” 

[unspeakableprewett]

daisyhooks-um‌:

Daisy nodded, “Hagrid will make sure they’re safe. Put them all in the right environments… I wonder where the Puffskeins are? Perhaps in her bedroom…” She looked around, feeling overwhelmed by everything. They would need to find a place for more than just the animals, her furniture, her books, her plants, her clothes. Everything needed a place to go, would her and Fabian be able to take care of it all on their own? “I’m going to research for my book, so I’m moving in to my parents home for some time. It’s about an hour outside of London, a small Muggle town, so having magical creatures isn’t really ideal…” She was sure Athena had mentioned to Fabian that she was leaving, but perhaps it slipped his mind while he was mourning.

She noticed tears welling up in his eyes. Daisy felt rude for staring, but she didn’t know what else to do. Of course she knew it wasn’t because of the toad, there was so much more going on, things Daisy likely didn’t even know about. The burden of being the bearer of bad news, the guilt from not being able to say goodbye or protect his cousin, she felt just horrible for him. She smiled softly as he stepped towards her, her arms wrapping tightly around his waist and her head rested on his chest, “You’re allowed to cry over whatever you want. I’m not here to judge you.” She nodded at his next words, tears welling up in her own eyes, “Me too. I wish I got a proper goodbye. The last thing I said to her was ‘see you at lunch next week.’ I wish I could have told her how much I love her and how badly I wish it was me instead of her. Less people would be sad if it was me… She had so much…”

He felt better with a plan, using his wand to gather the animals they had so far into one spot. As Daisy spoke, he felt a flicker of recognition, something Athena had said about wards, all of which had flown from his head in the wake of her death. “Right. I was supposed to help you with protections. Nothing’s changed there. If you still need it,” he offered, quietly determined to do all he could for Daisy regardless. There was something sad about her leaving, even though Fabian knew it had been planned before Athena’s death. It seemed another part of his cousin’s life falling away. 

For all she was clearly kind-hearted, Daisy was little more than a stranger. It was difficult to find comfort in her embrace, to relieve the cold misery weighing him down. Especially as she reminded him so much of Athena. He couldn’t help wishing for Athena instead. But at least he wasn’t alone. “I’m sure she knew all that,” Fabian replied hollowly. The guilt he could hear from Daisy was an echo of his own, but she, at least, had no reason for it. It had been Fabian who’d heard the centaur’s prophecy. And it was Fabian who’d known what Severus Snape was. He couldn’t talk about this, it was too painful. He stepped away hastily, wiping his eyes. “Don’t say that. Your life is as important. And you have no cause for regret ... you didn’t do this ...” But he knew who was responsible. Trying to avoid an overflow of anger that she did not deserve to hear, he looked away, watching the animals milling around them instead. “Alright. Let’s get this lot away.” That was the first task to focus on, the rest could wait. 

[unspeakableprewett]

ministry-bones‌:

She momentarily wished that Edgar were here, or Gideon, or even Molly. They would know the right thing to do…the right thing to say. The look on Fabian’s face was something Amelia wasn’t sure she would soon forget. She couldn’t recall an occasion where she had ever seen Fabian cry. Much like her brothers, she had always found him strong, unbreakable. Someone who wouldn’t falter under extreme pressure. Something she herself was envious of.

Fabian’s protests that this Lily didn’t know Athena very well, him grasping for another explanation, Amelia swallowed hard. She could imagine herself making similar justifications if it had been her brothers. Merlin, she desperately wanted to tell them that they must be wrong as well but she held her tongue. That was, until, Fabian told her he had to go.

“I can go with you.” Amelia offered quickly with no second thought. Instead of waiting for an answer, she carefully got to her feet. The healer made a panicked motion, aiming to help Amelia up, but she just waved her hand in dismissal. She could do it, she was fine..or fine enough to deal with standing for awhile. Amelia wouldn’t let Fabian deal with this alone.

The ache in the pit of her stomach felt like it might swallow her up completely. “I’ll go with you.” she repeated, an attempt to convince him she was right. Amelia gently slipped her hand into his, her fingers lacing with his, “I can’t let you go alone.”

He didn’t understand how this had happened. It was too sudden, too unexpected. As he blinked away his sorrow, he saw in reflected in Amelia’s expression. The sameness of grief didn’t help Fabian, it only reminded him of all the people he would need to tell. Gideon and Molly, the children, Athena’s parents ... that would be his duty now, to carry the news, to devastate everyone he loved. 

It didn’t seem right to make a list of his family and not include Athena on it. But no - her, he’d go to see first. Fabian felt a moment of calm, of heartbeat steadfying and eyes drying up, in the face of having made a decision. He would go to see her body. Anything else could wait until then, until he saw her for himself and believed this awful truth.

The pressure of Amelia’s hand jolted him back into the present. He hadn’t noticed her stand up but the Healer was certainly looking on disapprovingly. There was comfort in having someone with him; to let go would be difficult but Fabian didn’t know what would happen when he saw the body, when it was all confirmed in his mind. “Thank you, but I should do this alone.  He pulled his hand out of her grasp. “You need to find Edgar.” 

Part of him still thought Athena couldn’t be dead, but if she was, really, truly, was - then he could not have Amelia with him. She would try to stop him - or at least tell Edgar and Edgar would definitely try to stop him. He nodded, to himself more than anyone, mind made up. “Stay safe, please,” he couldn’t help the hurried farewell as he left, meaning the words with a graveness that he’d rarely felt before, following the Healer away to Athena’s body before Amelia could protest. 

FIN.

[unspeakableprewett]

wormtailpettigrewpeter‌:

He couldn’t feel much, it felt like he was floating in some darkness and it was… terrifying. Peter was just there, just stuck out in the darkness and it was numb and he was alone. He wasn’t even sure if he was thinking properly or at all but it was all darkness, cold and isolated. He tried to move, tried to so something, anything but it made no difference; darkness reigned and he couldn’t save himself.

Meanwhile his body was still motionless on the ground, his eyes were closed and there was a nasty scrape on his cheek from fall hard against the ground, a few dribbles of blood running down his cheek to the cracked pavement below.

The terrifying numbness remained though he felt some sort of shift. Unsure what it was or where it was coming from but next a few undefinable echoes reached whatever was passing for his ears right now and it seemed to take so long before the words made sense… Fabian? Was he not alone? What was he asking him?      

He tried to call out, to scream once more begging for anyone to hear him but his limp body only managed to make a garbled half-noise, barely shifting, a hand half-rising only to fall limp at his side moments later, his eyes still shut. 

The actions of the last half hour were playing over and over in Fabian’s mind. His actions. What had he been thinking? Rushing in like that, practically ignoring Pettigrew’s concerns - arguably, ignoring Pettigrew’s existence.

It hadn’t been the mission and that hadn’t mattered to him. Still wouldn’t matter now, except for the fact that Pettigrew could be dead. As they landed on the floor of the safe house, Fabian barely waited for the dizziness of Apparition to fade, lunging forwards so that he could examine Peter for signs of life. 

The boy looked dead, so still and pale in a way that flashed Fabian back instantly to walking into the room of the dead at St. Mungo’s after the attack. But he could see the miniscule movement of Peter’s hand, an inexhaustible feeling of relief at the sight. 

Of course, if Pettigrew never woke up, that meant nothing. It might not have been the Killing Curse he was hit with, but there were plenty of worse curses the boy might never recover from. He tried some of the most basic healing spells he knew, first sending his Patronus out to Dumbledore, beseeching help. It was never wise for Order members to go to the hospital, unless the need was truly dire.  “Come on. Wake up, Pettigrew.” 

[frankcjlongbottom]

WHO: @unspeakableprcwett WHERE: Fabian Prewett’s Flat. 

Fabian was dodging him. It wasn’t the most difficult of deductions to make, one he’d noticed when regular visits to his office and meetings in hallways and occasional drinks after work had abruptly come to a halt. Condolences had gone unanswered, knocked doors unopened and Frank, in the manner of any Longbottom when faced with a particularly elusive suspect, had come to the conclusion that the only solution to such a problem was just this: a handle of firewhiskey tucked under one arm, overflowing bags of surplus Halloween decorating supplies that even the Longbottoms heavy-handed approach to decorating couldn’t find a place for, a large pumpkin balanced under the other arm and the dogged determination of a bloodhound that had finally caught it’s scent.

“I know you’re in there, Prewett,” he called, loud and uninhibited by the curious looks Fabian’s neighbours had slowed to bestow upon him, “Don’t make me start singing Christmas Carols in October, there’s too many people out here that could fall in love with me and Alice hates it when I make people cry.” 

His knocking persisted, cheerfully uninhibited by what he was sure would be a grim sight on the other side. There was a very real possibility that Fabian blamed him, in some way, for what had happened to his cousin, for misjudging the risk assessment or not being there, not being able to stop it. Rabastan Lestrange’s words crept in the back of his head, unwelcomed. I’m surprised you have the nerve to show up. Frank steeled himself, resolutely.

“I do a haunting rendition of Sleigh Ride, Prewett — don’t make me do it.”

[unspeakableprewett]

The knock was unwelcome, Fabian assuming it was yet another well-meaning attempt by one of his friends to offer condolences and comfort. He appreciated it, he truly did, but the weight of all that sympathy was beginning to drive him mad. He had enough sorrow of his own, he didn’t want any more from anyone else. 

Then, however, he felt infinitely worse when he made out the muffled voice coming from the other side of the door to be Frank’s. He debated not answering it, it seemed unlikely Frank could really know he was here or not. Then again, the man was a brilliant Auror. Therein lay the problem. 

Fabian, by now, was quite certain that he was going to kill someone. He didn’t know who, but that made his path no less decided upon. It could no longer be said to be in the heat of passion, emotion, grief; no, he’d decided rationally and coldly at this point that he was going to do it, as soon as he knew who exactly his target ought to be. 

There was some people he could look in the eyes and deny such a plan. Frank was probably not one of them. Vigilante work was one thing, murder another to ask an Auror to turn a blind eye, too, even if he was a friend. He opened the door slowly, his expression reluctant, almost a wince. “I’m opening the door to spare the neighbours. Please don’t take that as an invitation to sing inside.” He caught sight of the items Frank was carrying, an overflow of holiday cheer that Fabian’s undecorated flat could hardly match. Right. Halloween. “Ah. It’s nearly the 31st, isn’t it? I’d forgotten. Did you just want to drop some things off and go? That’s kind, tell Alice I appreciate her sacrifice.” He had tried not to emphasise and go too strongly,  yet now the possibility of avoiding an extended amount of time in which he’d be required to lie to Frank was here, Fabian clutched onto it. 

[polyglotdubois]

Clothes Maketh The Man || Elizabeth & Fabian

[unspeakableprewett]

polyglotdubois‌:

Elizabeth had no issue with being coy with her purpose when it was all for a good cause. In this case it was to ensure Fabian met with her so she could try and do what little she could to help him through what had to be an awful time. She and Athena hadn’t known one another but she’d seemed like a very sweet young lady, she certainly hadn’t deserved what had happened to her.

Live was an unfair bitch at times but that didn’t mean she couldn’t try to help someone deal with it’s awful fallout. “Oh no, they’ll know that this food will have been wasted cause I will tell them.” she threatened lightly, “Don’t make me go find some poor hungry person and tell them you refused to eat my nice food. Well… My cook’s nice food but anyway.” she gestured slightly, smiling at his acceptance.

“Take my hand and let me lead.” she told him with a smile apparating them to their destination. “This is Vanoise National Park, in France.” she elaborated as they landed in a deserted, beautiful area close to several large trees with a river running close by and only animals for company, “C’mon sit sit.” she told him, conjuring a picnic blanket for them both, “A little nature and fresh air will do us both good.” she told him, pushing her puffy dress under her to get settled, “Now lemme see… oh! Nessie made her afternoon tea spread! Boy you are in for a taste of joy via tiny sandwich my friend.” she told him, looking in the basket.  

He’d long since gotten the sense that there was no point resisting when it came to Elizabeth so Fabian simply shrugged his acceptance and allowed her to apparate them to a new destination. It was something of a relief to leave the long halls of the Ministry behind and forget - or try to forget - the extent to which those halls were crumbling. 

The park was beautiful, quieter than any place he’d been in some time and Fabian sat, still looking around in surprise. “This is really France? I’ve never been. This something you make a habit of? Spiriting people away for picnics in other countries.” 

He wasn’t complaining, it was yet another sign that his friends were trying to be there for him and Fabian knew he was lucky for that. “I suppose I’ll thank you for more than the sandwich, then. Even if I really should be working. I’ve got time off to make up for.” 

[unspeakableprewett]

mcllywecsley‌:

She had been relieved when Fabian showed up at her door, she had immediately given him a big hug and hurriedly chased him into the sitting room before dashing out into the kitchen. Molly came out of the kitchen carrying a tray a few moments later. There were two cups, a pot of steaming tea, plenty of cookies and even a sandwich. “I wanted to bring you the biscuits I baked this morning, but someone has apparently already raided the cupboard,” she replied, suspecting Bill and Charlie were to blame. She was obviously annoyed as she set down the tray on the small table in front of him. “The boys can help me bake some new ones tomorrow.” Her tone of voice made it clear that she would not leave them any choice. She poured him a cup of tea from the pot, setting it down before him. She had attempted to busy herself to avoid thinking too much about how unsafe their world was growing, how it pained her to lose her cousin in such a horrific manner. Fabian’s presence forced her to confront all of that, but she knew that she needed to, just like he needed to confront her.

“You have been avoiding me,” she stated before her brother could say anything. “Your nephews have missed you - as have I.” Bill and Charlie had almost interrogated her earlier that day, demanding to know why their uncle had not come to visit them. It had only been a few days, but the young boys felt like it had been weeks. Their current theory was that they were engaged in a sibling squabble and begged her to apologise. It had taken her quite a long time to reassure them otherwise. She poured a cup for herself, but let it sit to cool down as her dark eyes stared relentlessly, but kindly, at him. “You are not at fault for what happened, Fabian, you know that, right?” Molly asked gently. She knew him too well to know what he may think or feel. “No one is to blame but the Death Eaters.” They were the ones who had cut short Athena’s life, they were the ones who had carried out such a cowardly attack. 

Despite the misery seeping through his skin, Fabian felt the warmth of a laugh bubbling over at the sight of his sister, overladen with food and drink as she came back into the room. “They’re growing boys, they need it more than I do,” Fabian said in automatic defense of his nephews, though he retained his smile at Molly’s stern tone. Adored his sister’s children certainly were, but they would never be spoiled. He had been looked after by Molly all his life, no surprise to him that she was a wonderful parent. The picture of Molly and her boys baking together was a sweet one, but it made his heart ache, thinking of how fragile all of it truly was. Life. His family. It could be taken so easily. He wanted to think they were protected, safe here in the Burrow, but he’d thought Athena was safe, too. 

Fabian took the cup of tea to his mouth, both to avoid looking at Molly and to avoid the feeling that he was under interrogtation. He had been avoiding them, it couldn’t be denied. He might not be able to explain himself why, but then he didn’t need to, Molly knew him better than he knew himself. For days now, he’d been unable to shake the feeling it was his fault. “I was there. Fighting.” He saw little point in keeping it secret. “But I didn’t protect her.  Athena was probably out there alone when she died. I should have been there. At least if I had been, I’d have answers.” He cut himself off there, not wanting to reveal how deep his desire for revenge was, even if it might be written in the steel of his eyes. 

[unspeakableprewett]

benjyfvnwick‌:

Benjy had said similar things when people had approached him after the loss of his parents - you don’t need to worry about me, I’m fine, my brother and I are coping well - and every single one of those words had been lies. “Of course I should worry about you….I truly did mean to reach out to you to see how you were doing, I just got….sidelined,” Benjy frowned. “Just know that if you ever need someone that isn’t family then I’m always here to lend an ear…and a bottle of firewhiskey, should the need arise.”

“Martin Miggs the Mad Muggle?” Benjy repeated, almost incredulously. “That sounds like it has a terrible plot. Muggle comics are certainly far superior in that respect…you can take that edition home and read it if you want, there’s a few I’ve finished and a few that are the first in a series so you wouldn’t have to have read anything else yet. I might have to find a copy of Martin Miggs now because I’m curious. Maybe that’s my calling for when I eventually leave the Muggle Liaison office, a wizarding comic writer. It sounds like a dream to be honest.”

It was the first time that Benjy had admitted out loud to a friend that there were holes in his memory relating to his parents and his childhood, and exactly how he’d ended up in that situation and it made Benjy feel sick all over again, which didn’t bode well for his inevitable visit from the auror’s office. Benjy remained silent, lips clasped shut as Fabian spat out his hatred. He was damn right, and yet the only emotion Benjy could muster was tiredness. He was tired of having to justify his very existence, he was tired of going to work and being stamped on by a man who’s soul was surely blacker than night, he was tired of waking up in the middle of the night screaming because of his nightmares. Being in the hospital hadn’t helped his ever increasing feeling of hopelessness which seemed to spiral a little more each day. 

Benjy reached up gingerly to run his fingers through his hair in frustration, shaking his head. “She didn’t understand, which is a blessing. I don’t know what she thought, but she hadn’t processed what she was seeing….thank god.” He closed his eyes as he shook his head. “They said it’s not a normal memory charm. It’s almost as if someone went through and plucked the memories out one by one,” Benjy said quietly. “They’re gone. They suggested that Alex helps me…but the problem is, I don’t know what I don’t remember.”

Sidelined was one way of putting it. Fabian was tired of seeing his friends in hospital beds, although it was certainly better than the alternative. He shook off Beny’s worry, however, preferring to shift attention away from how well he was (or wasn’t) coping. “It’s alright, I more than understand. You’ve been through a lot. And we’ve got more important things to think about. What you were saying, about time slowing down - that worries me. It’s dangerous to play with time. Even the Death Eaters - I wouldn’t have thought they’d risk it.” It was time to stop underestimating them, clearly there was nothing to which they wouldn’t sink. 

He decided to take the comic, more out of a desire to please Benjy than anything else. Fabian was hardly in the mood for reading comics at the moment, but perhaps it would serve as an amusing distraction. “Thanks. Don’t think I kept any of the Miggs comics, gave them all to Bill and Charlie. You’re always welcome to drop by the Burrow, though and I reckon the boys would be glad to lend you one. Especially if you tell them it’s research for a comic of your own.” He let a tired smile stretch across his face, but it was difficult to be cheered when he still felt so desperately angry on Benjy’s behalf and his own.

Being a member of the Order had always given Fabian such a sense of purpose, but it was beginning to feel very hollow in the wake of the Puddletown attack. Had they ever had any victories, or only these terrible losses? Lives taken, pain inflicted, parts of themselves taken away. How sick and cruel it was to steal the memories of loved ones, even Dementors didn’t do that.   He could understand Benjy’s distress, it was as if now he was less the man he’d been before without knowing what the difference was. “I might be able to help as well, if you ever want to come round my office. I’ve done some related work,” he said, keeping it vague so as not to unnecessarily set off the Tongue-Tying curses. “Not to mention, Unspeakables know quite a bit about Memory spells. It’s how they keep us in line.” 

[unspeakableprewett]

chrisxtraves‌:

The boy was on a mission it seemed a fool’s errand that would no doubt put him in a lot of danger. If this were anyone else Christopher would have simply ignored them, but it was obvious the other would not let that happen. Hell, considering his mood Chris would have considered the idea of killing the person. But this is Fabian Prewitt, to his credit a capable wizard, not to mention it would be an admittance of guilt in his eyes.

Christopher could threaten him politically but it didn’t take a sharp mind to see that he didn’t care about that. It may have been there for a moment but Chris saw it, the anger in his eyes while he spoke. He really is acting like a child, leaving himself too open too easy to read. At this point, it was safe to assume that Christopher wasn’t the first person he approached.

If he was in a better state of mind he would have remained calm but at the moment his state of mind was a bit knackered. “Well since you seem to understand how group attacks work, why haven’t you or yours found anything” he countered. “Last I checked this attack wasn’t just in the hands of law enforcement, from curse breakers to Aurors everyone is working on it. Of course, no one knows what your job even is, for all we know you could all be sat on your arses eating sandwiches and egg salad while the rest of us are out doing the real work.” He sneered “as for the other victims you have no right to any information that doesn’t concern your cousin’s murder.” Pausing for a moment Chris came up with a solution to his new problem. He took the anger out of his voice and held up his hands. Chris walked closer to the other and leaned into his ear “what if I told you we did find someone, what would you do Mr. Prewett?” he whispered keeping his voice flat.

He was far from making smart choices. Even in his anger, Fabian could recognise this wasn’t the best way to get answers. The glare in Travers’ eyes told him he wasn’t inspiring the wizard to work any harder on the case, but nor did his uncaring response, almost malicious, convince Fabian that the man was trying in the first place. He clenched his fists, trying not to lose control of the red haze spurring him on to a nastier confrontation. “You’re quite right, you don’t know what my job is. And you never will. But I know what yours is. Bringing murderers to justice. If you aren’t doing it, I don’t think I’m the only who’d have to ask, what’s stopping you?” He stared the other wizard down icily, barely concealed contempt in his eyes. 

When the shift came, Fabian was wrongfooted. Travers had been almost spiteful up til this point, he wasn’t sure what to do when the wizard suddenly became cool and turned the pointed questioning back on him. The truthful answer was one he couldn’t say, not to Law Enforcement officer, not to anyone, really. “I have a grieving family desperate for answers. I want to bring them the comfort that remains to us, which isn’t much,” he said, voice stiff in the lie - half-truth, rather.  

[unspeakableprewett]

amxcuscarrow‌:

And there it was. 

Amycus waited, head tilting in anticipation of a question, eyes shifting to regard Prewett, narrowed and dark, with the faintest scrunch of his forehead. Prewett’s dead cousin hadn’t crossed his thoughts often, if at all, in the weeks since he’d first sat with Amelia in the breakroom of level two — not in the way that her name seemed to trip off everyone’s tongue around the Ministry of late. A martyr for the people. Pretty Pureblood girls were rarely the target of such attacks. A cynical, snide voice in the back of his head wondered if Prewett with all of his righteous beliefs was nearly so incensed on the behalf of the mudblood blood spilled that night or if he’d simply thought his family safe.

No question was forthcoming, pointed statements doing all the work in their place, and Amycus’s eyebrows inched upward as he was confronted with the space in which he supposed condolences were expected, hollow words offered at cemeteries and wakes. His nose wrinkled, lips thinned. Amycus had never had much of a talent for social niceties. “A lot of people are dead,” he offered finally as he settled in at his desk. “It rarely discriminates.”

The door snapped shut, Amycus’s eyes fixed to the delicate work that lay before him and thoroughly aware that likely none of it would get done. “Lucy,” he agreed without further explanation, rolling his fingers as if to shake the stiffness for them and leaning forward over the brain, his forehead furrowing deeper as he gently, carefully, moved his wand towards the tissue and then—

A shadow fell across his desk. 

“Deterioration,” he replied bluntly, irritably, licking the back of his teeth and wondering if he should just set his wand aside. He’d hate to ruin a promising specimen through distraction but allowing Prewett the satisfaction of knowing he was keeping him from his work was also an unpleasant option. “Patterns. The magical signature unique to the curse that caused the damage. Whether the trauma was contained or whether it was ongoing.”

His forehead furrowed further, hair drifting out from behind his hair to hang in his eyes. Irritably he sat back, setting his wand aside and setting about retying it away from his face. The last thing he needed was the contaminate his specimens. “I’ve never looked for it,” he replied, clipped and irritable as he allowed his brain to wander away from his own task and follow the posited theory, as ludicrous as Prewett’s mystery of choice might be. “Perhaps an anomaly in the Parietal Lobe, heightened sensitivity in the occipital lobe—”

Eyes flicked upward, dark and hard and knowing. In spite of himself, his jaw ticked. “Prophecy is an imprecise science. Better left to hacks and muggle frauds. Magical blood is probably a detriment to it.”

The constant declarations of sympathy were beginning to irritate him, especially from his Ministry co-workers. Athena’s death had come right to the forefront of public discussion around the attack; Fabian wasn’t blind to the ways in which it was politically useful. The sweet pureblood girl, dead at the hands of Death Eaters. We’re all in danger, we all have to act. But Athena wasn’t supposed to be a cause, she was supposed to live. He hated all of the people who’d come to him with downcast eyes, expressing their manufactured sorrow. 

Carrow’s distinct lack of sympathy, however, was equally infuriating. Worse even, for the suspicions he’d harboured. He found himself getting angrier at the sight of those uncaring eyes. “Death doesn’t have a choice in the manner, at least not in this case. All those people are dead now because Death Eaters chose to kill them.”

Ignoring all the careful plans he and Dumbledore had shared, all of the reminders to keep his head down, to stay under the invisibility cloak both figuratively and literally, he decided not to press that anger down. “You’re not stupid, Carrow. At least, I don’t think so. I also don’t think you were there that night for a party. I might not have a shred of evidence, I admit it, but if you think you’re getting away with all this-” he broke off, jaw clenching. “You won’t. I know exactly what you are.” 

For the moment, it felt satisfying to say it. He didn’t even think about how stupid it might have been, what a mistake, at least not for longer than the space of a breath. It was a relief even to stop pretending that he cared about their work as Unspeakables, that all his interest in talking to Amycus Carrow came from some sort of working camaraderie. Mysteries had had a hold over him almost all his life, but now he only cared about one and that was unconvering the truth of Athena’s murder. 

It was easy to cast aside the faint remnants of interest he had while watching Amycus pour over the brains. His eye seemed to look for magical glimmers almost instinctively, but he blinked, ignoring it, to put his hands down on Amycus’s desk and warn him lowly.

“Don’t underestimate the power of prophecy. The centaurs knew my cousin was going to die, and soon. I should have listened. I’m not going to make that mistake again. You threatened her and she’s dead now. Well, I’m listening, Carrow. Every thing you do, I’m listening.” He felt angry and brash as he said it, a sensation not unlike seeing a curse flying through the air and running directly at it.