She looked up at his words, checking him over to make sure that he was only feigning being upset. Even though she’d become more comfortable with Fabian over the years, she still feared the day she said something wrong and lost his friendship in some manner. He was light and happiness and adventure; everything she wanted to be. How could she risk losing that? “You’ll survive, Fabby. Trust me, I’m a Healer.” Of course, her diagnosis was stupid really. If he ever were hurt, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to keep her mind enough that she’d be able to do anything about it. There was something about him, something positive and safe that made her feel like she could be somewhat normal. Hestia knew she couldn’t lose that. “And what happens when you annoy us all that much that we band together and decide to give you the silent treatment and not let you in our houses? Have you considered what you might do then?” It would never happen. That she was almost certain of. Never mind how much she seemed to cling to him, the nights when he was not there were the worst of her week. He’d become her safe place. His mere presence in the other room was enough to make her feel protected when she got scared at night. In fact, a number of times, she’d considered getting him a real bed to make him stay even longer. “Not moving.” She said, though her voice was muffled as he lifted her up and threw her over his shoulder. Damn her for being so small! Damn him for having no boundaries! And damn her once more for loving that about him. “Fabian Prewett,” She said, sternly. “You put me down this instance or I will go to your sister and tell her that you kidnapped me.”
He could feel her squirming in his arms over his shoulder, feel the weak banging of her fists on his upper back. A smile crossed his face as he weighed his options: to keep her dangling there for just a bit longer or to put her down and face her less than terrifying wrath. He’d heard the bit about his sister and answered sarcastically, “Oi, I’m shaking in my pants here Hes. You really got me there,” despite the fact that in his heart of hearts he knew that releasing Molly on him was just about as bad as it could get for him. He laughed as he put Hestia down (just for good measure, he told himself, Best not to bring Molly into this, to bother her with something so small). He looked at her expectantly, not really sure what she’d do next. It seemed that no one could really relate to his view of Hestia. She was spontaneous, you never knew what was coming. She had a small temper but a big heart and was quick to forgive. She could make you laugh but make you cry just as easily. No one else saw her that way, though. Most just saw her as small and sweet. They didn’t know the unpredictable Hestia he did. He nearly held his breath waiting to see if she’d yell at him or not, sure that regardless of what she did it would make him laugh.
Fabian had worked at The Leaky Cauldron almost as long as he’d been out of school. The job was easy, bartending at a place like that. It was simple, doing small repetitive tasks. It kept him busy, kept his mind running at a high speed. Naturally, of course, having worked there so long made him automatically volunteered for things like working during the middle of this festival. He’d been there since pretty early in the morning, serving various bottles of firewhisky and sketchy meals from the cook, mugs filled to the brim with dragon scale beer, butterbeers and pumpkin juices for the kiddos… so when he finally ended his shift at around 1pm, he headed straight to his place.
To some, it may seem weird that Fabian felt himself so at peace while at the Secondhand Brooms store. It was just filled with old Cleansweeps, Comets, and any other ancient broom company you could think of. There was one Nimbus in the entire store. They were so new there were hardly any secondhand of them yet. Sure, to anyone else, this place would just be an old broom store. To Fabian, though, it was a place where he understood all that was going on around him. Fabian could talk brooms for hours, the one thing he’d ever really been interested in all his life. Models, speeds, heights, weight support, technique… Flying was just something that Fabian got. He loved this place, albeit a bit ironically dusty.
He heard the bell jingle, the one that signified another person had for some reason decided to come into this store. He turned and was slightly shocked to see James Potter. Of course, it wasn’t entirely out of character to see James Potter at a broomstick store. Fabian just couldn’t understand why he’d chosen the secondhand store, the used up and old brooms. He knew who James’s parents were, knew he had enough money to get any broom that he wanted. Regardless, Fabian greeted the fellow Gryffindor alum with great verve. “Potter, mate, I feel like it’s been ages. Where’ve you been hiding?” He smiled at the other boy.
"And every point I make is usually, if not always, right," he said with a playful smirk. "Or it could be a brilliant idea to have Aurors everywhere where there are people so if something does happen it can be resolved. It depends if you look at it in a positive or negative way. "Quidditch was always James specialty, but when I started playing they became mine as well."
"You cocky bastard," Fabian said accompanied by a trademark chuckle. Fabian hadn’t noticed it until recently but he was a bit of a pessimistic bloke. "S’pose I’d just rather expect t’be disappointed and end up having a good time than the other way around, yea?" He just didn’t want to expect a good night and end up supremely let down. He hated the feeling of being let down, so why not just lower his expectations altogether? "Black, I played Quidditch with you at Hogwarts and you know just as well as I do that it was fully Potter’s thing,” Fab laughed, never growing tired of Sirius’s endless amounts of overconfidence.
”I’m not old,” He defended,
playfully, a smile on his face.
In truth, he was old. Of course, not old in the case he had to worry about his life dwindling away, but old in the sense that he was an adult. He faced adult situations every day, and was tasked with making adult decisions. It was something that, as a child, every knew was coming, but when it began, it was unlike anything one could imagine. Nothing had changed, but everything was different. Ted nodded, chuckling.
“Sometimes it feels that way, though.”
He admitted, lightheartedly, though
there was an obvious deeper meaning
in his words. “Are you callin’ Dora tame?
Because she’s anything but. Still trying
to get the hang of her Metamorphagus
abilities, it’s pretty adorable. She’s real
roudy, though, and loud. But she’s a
"Whatever you’ve got to tell yourself to sleep at night, Teddy," he answered, a small chuckle escaping his mouth as he did so. The idea of growing up, though, had never been something lighthearted for Fabian. He never wanted to grow up, he’d always felt that way. Once, Arthur had given him an old muggle book, Peter Pan, in an effort to make him feel better about growing older. It was sort of a cautionary tale: we all grow up, we all have to, but it’s better that way. In reality, it had done the opposite. Fabian longed to be Peter. He wanted no responsibilities and nothing tying him down anywhere. He’d never admit it, of course, because that’d just make all of his closest friends absolutely right about him and he couldn’t have that. Fabian laughed, “Right, I’d forgotten about the Metamorphmagus bit. I bet that’s fun, different color eyes every other day, yea? ‘Course she’s a good kid, Ted, she’s yours.” Ted had always been the sort of person who was a role model by accident. Never intentionally becoming someone that people would look up to, just being it because of the way he is. Kindhearted and caring, knowledgeable and understanding.
Gideon rolls his eyes at his old nickname. Fabian first called him that in third year, and everything you do in third year ends up being embarrassing. It still embarrasses him, but over the years, Gideon has grown oddly fond of it. “There’s no one I’d rather meet ‘em with. It wouldn’t make sense. ‘Specially after all’a those late nights we spent as lil’ tykes huddlin’ over the radio.”
Fabian thought back to nights around the radio, just Gid and Molly and him staying up a bit too late for their mother’s liking. He smiled at the thought of it, a warm and familiar feeling rushing over him. “Right, then, we’d better start heading there. The line’s bound to be a mile long, I hear people’ve finally come to their senses when it comes to the Cannons.” As the two walked alongside each other, they got the occasional wide-eyed glance. It was, of course, something Fabian had become accustomed to what with having a twin his entire life. After walking for a bit, he opened his big mouth to speak again. Fabian could hardly stand silence. “So, what’s new in the fascinating life of one Gideon Prewett?” Fabian didn’t think he’d ever get used to not being with his brother 24/7. The two had been nearly inseparable since birth and it was still hard for Fab to accept that they likely weren’t going to be that way again.
Sirius chuckled softly, bringing the butterbeer he had in his hand to his lips for a sip. “Why not throw a party in the middle of the war? We don’t want people running around worried and making our life harder,” he said with a simple shrug. “And I’m all for coming with you, I think it will be interesting.”
"Right, Sirius. You’ve got a point as usual, it just seems sort of stupid to put all these people out in the open. What if someone attacks?" He laughed for a moment, simply because laughing is what Fabian does when he’s got nothing else to do. He smiled at the other boy excitedly as he tended to do anytime the Chudley Cannons were a topic of conversation. "You’re a fan of the Cannons? They’ve been my favourite team since before I could ride a broom."