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Fabian Prewett ([info]fabulously_fab) wrote in [info]valesco,
Fabian really didn’t know how he should feel. He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to be more angry, or more upset by the deaths of the McKinnon’s. At the moment, he was a little bit of both, evenly spread out so that he wasn’t feeling more of one than the other. But then there was a strange feeling of guilt. He didn’t feel guilty because he couldn’t stop Orpheus Travers from tearing a family apart, that he couldn’t stop him from causing such good people so much pain, but guilty because he didn’t know how he was supposed to comfort anyone else who was feeling so heartbroken about the situation. It would have been ridiculous for him to start balling, or to throw some sort of fit, since other members of the Order who were much closer to Marlene were doing neither.

He loved Marlie, he did. She was a great person, and she was a great Quidditch player, and they always got along, and to know that she was gone was just…difficult. It was hard to get used to, knowing that he wasn’t going to see her walk in through the door, full of energy and life, like she always was. It was hard on everyone. Then there was Melinda. He only knew her casually, since she and Sirius had…something going on, he didn’t even know what. But he had spoken to her a few times, and he liked her. He didn’t know the rest of the family, but knowing that they all died so tragically broke him up.

Sitting in the dining room, he stirred at a cup of tea that someone had left there from probably the day before. It was ice cold, and half empty, but it gave him something to do. Something to concentrate on, since he was sure that if he walked into the living room, he would have to walk right back out again. There was nothing he could do for any of his friends, and for the time being, he thought it would be best to just separate himself, and let everyone grieve in their own way. It was all he really could do.

Continuing to stare at the tea cup, he concentrated on the gentle clicks the metal spoon made against the ceramic mug, being too distracted to notice that someone had just walked into the room until he caught sight of them out of the corner of his eye. The clicking stopped immediately.

“…is there any more news?”


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