April 7 ‘86: I’m a Ship on the Ocean: Weasleys

[Fabian Prewett]

He wasn’t sure where he was headed, feet caring him through the streets of London as he tried to calm his rushing thoughts. Today had started out like any other day, a half a morning at work before he’d gone for a walk through these same streets. Just trying to pass the time, not expecting his entire world was going to change because of the people he came across. But that was exactly what had happened, before it all came crashing down around him. Seeing Kyra and meeting Griffin had been a huge shock, but there was no denying that the boy had magic in him. Fabian was all to aware of his son, and the cold hard fact that his actions in the past had ripped any chance of getting to be a father away from him.

He found himself stopping in the middle of the street, eyes drifting to the watch on his wrist. It was late, but he doubted his family would care if he showed up at this hour. Concerned? Of course they would be. But this was the sort of thing that was cause for concern. He’d kept so much of his life hidden from his sister and her family, wanting to keep the war away from them all. He couldn’t keep this from them though, not now that he knew. And while the conversation would undoubtedly be heated (as he’d neglected to mention to them his years of memory altering magic), but it was a conversation that needed to happen. Ducking down the nearest alley, he waited until he was far enough down before he turned on the spot, finding himself soon facing the Burrow.

He let himself in, his arrival announced by his older nephews that were greeting him. Bill was 15 and Charlie 13, well into their years at Hogwarts - and old enough to tell that someone was off with their Uncle. “Is your dad around?”

[Arthur Weasley]

Narrating adventures of his youngest child’s hand-me-down toys likely wasn’t the best way to get her to fall asleep, but Arthur wouldn’t trade the sound of her sleepy laughter at his antics for anything. It was not too long ago that this life was in jeopardy of being taken from him due to his becoming freed from bewitchment at war’s end; vouches from his respected brothers-in-law and Mad-Eye had helped secure his acquittal as much as his own testimony had, but the breath of relief at not having the threat of Azkaban anymore was short-lived. Witnesses had spoken of actions he’d taken but had no recall of, piecing together an intricate web of what could easily have been spun as an attempt to take down beloved members of the wizarding community. Even the deaths of the Bones’ was tied to him, as another had watched the Ministry - and Amelia Bones - that night through his waxy eyes…

Living with the weight of actions that were his but weren’t, of knowing that he’d fallen under the control of others, that he could’ve been a danger even to the sweet little girl beside him - it was a weight that Arthur didn’t know how to fully shake. Years had passed, but if ever he found himself unable to remember his whereabouts, a detail of his day, slipping into a hardly concealed spiral of panic was hardly unusual.

Because many walked free who shouldn’t.

The Malfoys, the Carrows, the Crabbes - and more, to be sure - were "pardoned" by the same methods that he had been. Only he knew that they were no more innocent than the Death Eaters confined to Azkaban’s cells. They were free. They could strike again. They could use him to finish what You-Know-Who began so many years ago…

He was pulled from storytelling at the sound of the door opening on the floor below them, of a deep voice entering the kitchen. The wards hadn’t been triggered, so the newcomer was someone trusted by his family, at least. Arthur took a look at his daughter’s bedside clock and gasped. "Ginny dear, how’s it gotten so late already? On my honor, we will continue the tale of Bartholomew and Maryweld tomorrow night." He set aside the toys and was tucking her in when quick thumps of footfalls on steps told him of one of the boys coming to grab him or Molly. Bill, long hair tied back, shortly stuck his head into the room. "Better get downstairs, Dad." Ginny began to protest, but Bill smoothly came in to take the spot on her bed his father had just vacated. "Nothing fun down there, Gin - let’s read one of these, eh? Been a while."

After laying a kiss on each of their heads - to the giggling delight of the girl and begrudging smile of his eldest - Arthur left them to it, softly shutting the door before padding downstairs to see Charlie and...Fabian? With a quick appraising eye to his brother-in-law, Arthur knew that Bill had had the right idea. More perceptive every day. The same couldn’t be said of his and Molly’s second, who loathed to miss any action. "Check on your mother, Charlie, would you? That’s a good lad." He fixed his son with a look, nodding upstairs and clapping his back as he passed with a muttering of missing everything. Arthur considered the man before him, hands deep in his pockets, as he waited for Charlie to get out of earshot. "Something’s eating you from the inside out," he appraised quietly, steadily. Neither of the twins had shown up in such a state in an age, or so it seemed, but what this meant was completely unknown to Arthur. He did his best to keep worry from his voice as he continued, but concern in his eye was unavoidable. "What's happened, Fabian? Are you all right?"

[Fabian Prewett]

If there was anyone that Fabian could truly trust, it was Arthur. The man had quickly become like an older brother when he and Molly had made things official. Fabian had liked Arthur before that though, he older boy always so interested in the world just outside of their front doors. Tinkering with muggle things, sticking up for those who weren’t pureblood. Arthur Weasley was a good man, that took care of his older sister. There were things in this world far more important than money, like love. His sister and brother-in-law had always been the definition of that, the way they treated anyone who had stepped into their lives like family. There was always room at their table, always a space they could squeeze in a school friend. What he had seen in them was something he had wanted for his life, put on the back burner when his desire to change the world for the woman he loved always more important in his mind.

And when the war had ended - it hadn’t been surprising to find some people coming out of trances. The Ministry had been slammed with the sudden workload, trying to round up the Death Eaters and make sense of what their world was. It was the reason he had gone back to the Auror department, competent witches and wizards needed to help with interrogation. When Karkaroff had implemented Rookwood, there had been an uproar that someone so trusted was a Death Eater. And as more ministry workers came forward, the situation got out of control. Aurors being told to use Unforgivable curses in interrogations, some stooping so low that Fabian had to wonder if they were really any better. But Fabian had never expected the familiar face to be sitting in a room one of those days, Arthur Weasley being investigated for his part in the actions of the malicious.

He would never let anyone paint his brother-in-law negatively. And Mad-eye Moody, they truly owed him a debt. There couldn’t have been a better Auror to investigate, and Arthur had walked free. Unfortunately, so had many others that Fabian knew without any doubts were Death Eaters. That was a battle he couldn’t fight anymore, although he was always down for a good raid on any of the families who had got off without being imprisoned. Although, with today’s revelation - he wasn’t sure how much he felt that way anymore. Not with the rumors Malfoy was undoubtedly already spreading.

Bill was quick to go and find his father, Charlie much more interested in the why of his uncle coming to visit at such a late hour. But the name Kyra wouldn’t mean much to the kids, Bill the only child alive for the brief time that anything had been officially between them. Not that his nephews didn’t ask about his dating life, or his motorcycle, or his work. The boy had been talking about his last catch as a Seeker for the Gryffindor Quidditch team - Fabian a bit prouder than he should have been that at least one of his nephews was just as talented at the sport as he was - when Arthur appeared downstairs, Bill not with him. “We’ll play some tomorrow!” he called after the discouraged thirteen year old, chuckling quietly to himself.

But the silence between the two men spoke more than he could really say, and Fabian had to blink back tears that were burning at the corners of his eyes as Arthur addressed him. “It’s,” he paused to clear his throat, doing his best to keep himself from breaking. “I really f*cked up Arthur. And I don’t think I can fix this one.” Was there even a chance that Kyra would recover from what he’d told her tonight? Would he ever see the little boy that looked like him again? There was a really good chance that the life he had discovered today would never be truly his.

And more than that - how was he supposed to admit he had altered Kyra’s memories to the man whose own mind had been tampered with. Perhaps he wasn’t much better than the Death Eaters he had fought those years ago. “You remember Kyra Thatcher, muggle girl? Best friends with Phoebe,” he began as he moved to sit at the long table, and placed carefully on the work surface as he tried to keep himself composed. The Bones had been family to them all, the only reason his sister and her children were alive was because one of them had been sick the day of the party. Although that hadn’t been something Fabian had known when he had arrived to the Dark Mark hovering in the sky. “Ran into her today in London, just by chance. Hadn’t seen her since Edgar and Phoebe…” were murdered “...since their funeral. She has a kid now, four years old today. Four.” Because four years and ten months ago, that had been the last time he had seen the woman who had a permanent place in his heart. “He looks just like me Arthur. And he’s magical, so there’s no denying it.”

[Arthur Weasley]

Fabian and Gideon truly were godsends of uncles; when they’d needed a safe place to recuperate at war’s end and come to the Burrow, one would’ve thought that two more bodies in their full and topsy-turvy home would have made it tumble over. But with a new baby and six young boys to care for and mentor, all helpful hands were welcome ones, and Arthur had missed the twins’ constant presence in years since. It was almost like being back in Gryffindor Tower with them, running about with his and Molly’s children instead of first years. So he was heartened if not surprised to hear Fabian soften the blow of banishment that Charlie was certainly suffering, even as the man was doing some suffering himself. If memory served, the last time Arthur had seen him so worked up was after finding Edgar and his family…please, let no one else be hurt…

The young man before him wasn’t thoughtless. He wouldn’t have arrived so late and unannounced with anything but big news. And so as Arthur gently prodded him to get it out before letting it consume him, he watched with concern and sympathy. The usually self-assured Auror was full of doubt and regret as he spoke harshly against himself, and Arthur gave a slow nod of recognition to the names given. Kyra Thatcher, that delightful muggle girl, always with some sort of new theory about the government and horoscope information at the ready. She’d let him pelt her with questions about her life so much during their brief meetings that Arthur did wonder if she’d work out his true nature, along with that of her friends. He’d failed to protect her from an Obliviator during the thick of the war…And Phoebe, dear Phoebe, what those demons did to her and her family…the darkest of days, that was…

Arthur had wondered if Fabian would look her up one of these days - there had been a time when he’d been proud to have her at his side, after all - to reminisce about the good old days and take comfort in someone else moving forward from such painful times. So to hear that theirs had been a chance encounter today was one thing - to hear that she’d had a child that more than simply resembled Fabian was entirely otherworldly.

"Well now, that sure is something," Arthur said carefully, not sure why his brother-in-law felt that this run-in was so damning, and still turning the news over in his mind. He could imagine the awkwardness and discomfort of an initial meeting between the former lovers, and upset on both parties for not finding the other previously. But there was a child. They could move past any discomfort or latent upset for the sake of this boy, couldn't they? You're not upset that he exists, that can't be it. "Why do you say you can't fix this? I recall she had a bit of a temper, but surely she'd want you in your child's life now that you've found each other." 

[Fabian Prewett]

Living at the Burrow at war’s end had been an easy choice, the fights he was in taking him far from his family over the years. He wanted to know his niece and nephews, wanted to enjoy time with the family that had survived. Everything he knew about being a parent had been learned in that time, and now all of that knowledge had a place for him use it. At seventeen years old, he’d not been keen on the idea of settling down and having kids. He’d babysit with his friends, but those kids had been older (and surprisingly magical as well, a secret well kept from Phoebe and Kyra). But the war had changed a lot, his view of what family was one of them. Family could get through anything, as long as they stuck together.

Even this. They could get through this.

Fabian was aware that Arthur could tell there was more he wasn’t saying, his brother-in-law one of the only people he ever spoke to about matters of the heart, besides Gideon. And besides Edgar. Of all the words he would use to describe himself, coward wasn’t one of them. From the moment it had clicked that Griffin was his son, he’d known he wanted to be involved in the boy’s life. “His name is Griffin,” he replied, avoiding the question that had been asked. He needed to tell Arthur the truth, but this conversation was just as delicate as the one he had been involved in earlier. “Took him and Kyra to Diagon Alley, spent the whole day with them. Everything I’d ever wanted.”

He ran a hand across his hair, memories of the shock of red he’d changed it from crossing his mind. “Malfoy knows,” he added as a quiet afterthought. The war wasn’t spoken of in the house, not really. But Malfoy was a different story, the wound of the damage caused by them fresh. He was the last person Fabian would have wanted to run into today, and yet the one person he had. And while he doubted Lucius knew exactly what he had seen, Fabian didn’t doubt the idiot had at least pegged Kyra for a muggle. That was concerning enough.

But his brother wasn’t about to let him get away with avoiding it, a look and question soon given his way. “Arthur, I’m not a good person,” he finally spoke. “I’m a soldier, even now. I don’t know how to be anything else anymore. But at the end of the day, I’m no better than Malfoy. Not really, not with what I’ve done.”

[Arthur Weasley]

This was delicate territory, and Arthur wanted to be patient. After all that the twins had done for him and his family over the years, he would do anything to help either of them. And with Fabian seeking him out tonight to deliver this news, help was most assuredly required. While Arthur had had no doubts that the man before him would be a great father if given the opportunity, now that the opportunity was there, he was nearly distraught. And why? Because of the mountain to climb to get back into the mother of his child’s good graces? Because being thrown into fatherhood was unexpected and overwhelming? You’ve never been afraid to put in the effort to something you believe in. And so he listened curiously as Fabian spoke up, unable to stop a smile from quirking briefly at hearing the child’s name. Griffin - he’s going to have a marvelous time in Care of Magical Creatures. But as the young man went on, clearly avoiding his question, Arthur’s smile faded. Due to the avoidance, and…Lucius Malfoy knowing enough of the situation to attempt to do damage. That the man that they all knew had gotten into his mind and forced him to play puppet, that that man could have threatened his nephew…

"I want to help you," he assured, more grim-faced than he wanted to be, "but I can’t if I don’t know what the problem is. You found each other, you met your son, you showed them your world. Even Lucius Malfoy can’t have ruined that." Arthur’s look shifted into a stern but compassionate come on, son as he waited. What was soon delivered made him sigh in empathy, and join the younger man at the table. He sat next to his brother-in-law, arm around his shoulders, hand gripping his arm solidly. You don't think you deserve this second chance, is that it? That they won't accept what you did to protect them? "I don’t think you’ll find a man or woman alive who doesn’t regret things they’ve done. We’ve all made mistakes, acted without thinking, done harm to those we love. You…you’ve had it worse than most. What you boys went through for our sakes…Look at me, Fabian. You were a soldier. But you’ve always been a good man. You’ve worked to bring peace, doing what others couldn’t so that our children can live in a better world than we did. Don’t you ever compare yourself to the likes of him again. Understand?"

[Fabian Prewett]

It was hard to let his brother-in-law comfort him, knowing quite well how angry Arthur would soon be. Because Fabian knew the truth, he was very much like the blond idiot who still waltzed around like his family name meant something. Malfoy would never get the chance to take away Kyra and Griffin from him, because he’d already done it with his own actions. It wasn’t just the fact he had changed her memories, that is something Fabian was sure they could have worked through. But he changed her memories of Phoebe and Edgar, gave her hope when there wasn’t any left. Marched off to his own death without any hesitations in what he had done to Kyra Thatcher, and then disappeared for close to five years. Maybe any one thing on it’s could be forgiven - but not all of it. Not all at once. At the very least he had to hope that Kyra would reach out to his brother-in-law and sister, find help with people who knew about raising magical children. Give Griffin the cousins he deserved, and he’d stay out of the picture.

He forced himself off the chair, away from the sympathy Arthur was giving. “The last time I saw Kyra, I left to go and hunt down the Lestranges. I didn’t think I was ever coming back to her,” he said as he stared towards the clock, remembering how the hands with the face of him and his brother had been in mortal peril that night. “I left her with a memory of Phoebe and Edgar, moving away. Until today she had no idea they died all those years ago. I could tell you all the excuses I’ve given myself, but I don’t have any. Not really.” Because what good reason could he come up with for messing with Kyra’s memories? Every time they’d fought in the past he had told her it was for her protection, but her knowing about magic wasn’t ever for her protection. It was for his protection, for the protection of some of the people he hated the most. Muggles knowing about magic was a strict no-no in their world, for the fear the muggles would destroy them.

“It wasn’t just the one memory. It’s years of memories, from the time Edgar told Phoebe he was a wizard to the day that they died.”

[Arthur Weasley]

"What?" Clearly, Arthur’s hearing was impaired. Or his cognitive processing skills were. Because Fabian wasn’t making any sense. He couldn’t have done what he was claiming. Not Fabian. Arthur watched, mouth gaping, as the younger man fled from reassurance and spoke of the past. Of the time right before he’d come to stay at the Burrow, when the family had thought they’d be lucky to even see either of the twins again. Of lies put into the mind of the muggle girl about those poor souls. And...more than that. Arthur did not want to believe his ears. He truly did not want to believe that the man he loved as a brother was capable of such...dishonorable action. He bristled, swallowing with his mouth suddenly dry as dirt, and did his best to remain...calm. Still. When he wanted to rage at the boy before him, just as surely as Fabian was raging at himself inside.

This is what you came here to tell me? Of all the foolhardy - of all the irresponsible - of all the immoral things you could’ve done during that war…

    He’s a good man. He’s sacrificed for you and yours -

Good deeds cannot mitigate bad ones. He knows he shouldn’t have done this.

    He’s a good man. He’s a good man. He’s a good man…

Arthur put the pieces together as well as he could. Fabian, having seen his best friend marry a muggle, had never agreed with the couple’s acceptance of the risk of their relationship. Thus, he had not let himself get tied to the muggle girl he’d long had feelings for. Not getting tied to her, he wasn’t permitted to tell her the truth, as laid out within the Statute. This could explain the years of alterations. And while Arthur, having had others in his mind, could not condone the behavior - he could understand that. Objectively. Objectively. As if you can be objective with this matter. But to change the girl’s memories of their friends’ deaths…What were you thinking, Fabian?

"I can’t absolve you of this," Arthur finally said, more disappointed in him than he knew he had the capacity for. "It's not my place. She may be able to forgive you, in time. And for the sake of your son, I truly hope she can." He raised a shaking hand to his head, combing through his red hair as he considered the other. Now better understanding Fabian's declaration that he was like Malfoy and his ilk, Arthur was biting back affirmation of it. Because it was exactly this sort of thing that gave wizards a bad reputation. That made them untrusted in the eyes of the non-magical community. As witches and wizards, the magic that they had, the power that they could wield, it required restraint, decency, sense. They could be the greatest craftsmen or the most devastating destroyers. You were a soldier, and destroying was part of the description. But I never thought you would willingly destroy. Only do what was necessary.

But Arthur couldn't convince himself that all of the alterations were necessary. Hell, he'd tried to save Kyra's memory once, and had been too slow. And he was only acquainted with her, but had still been pained by the failure. This must have tortured him. 

[Fabian Prewett]

He’ll hate you for this, after what he’s been through.
        Good, maybe he should.

Fabian didn’t flinch at Arthur’s reaction, he didn’t have anything in him anymore to react. He could feel Arthur’s anger, his disappointment. The anger he could handle, the disappointment was worse. And he wasn’t here for forgiveness from Arthur, that was something he could accept never getting. This was a truth he should have told him long ago, perhaps back when the truth of what Arthur had experienced had come to light. In the two years that he had lived here after the war, those two years some of his most precious memories as he really got to know his nephews and niece. But he couldn’t change the past, that much he knew.

“If I had known what they were doing to you-” he cut himself short, giving a sigh. He had know that the Death Eater’s were freely using unforgivable curses, the Order had even suspected targets in the Ministry. After Edgar and Phoebe had died, he had even caught himself worried about Arthur being affected by it, but hadn’t truly let himself believe that the brother-in-law he had always looked up to was being affected. “It was supposed to just be a one time thing, back when we first joined the Order. Phoebe would have killed me if I’d taken her to an Obliviator,” he finally said, shifting uncomfortably where he stood. He’d only ever planned for it to be the one time, because it was a secret that he’d never had trouble keeping before. But Phoebe got a little bit to drink, and sometimes it would just slip out. Or they were attacked by Death Eaters while they were out at a pub, at the wrong place at the wrong time. Then the kids had come along, and the three of them weren’t able to control their magical outbursts.

Altering the memories had always seemed better than having them erased. Altering the memories meant he could fix them, at least in theory. He’d never let Edgar or Gideon take over for him, taking it upon himself long ago. Because when she found out, she could be angry at him. He’d always been able to handle Kyra’s anger, and perhaps he even felt that he deserved it. Especially now, given what he had done. “When Gid and I went after the Lestrange’s, I wasn’t planning on coming back alive. Going after that family was a death sentence I was willing to take.”

[Arthur Weasley]

"If you'd known?" Arthur stared at his brother, aghast, bringing his angry voice down as he went on, all too conscious of listening ears from floors above. "Why would that have stayed your hand? Because the act done upon me was a crime, because of what's in my blood? But not on Kyra, because of what's missing in hers? Better, Fabian. I expect better, so much better, from you." As the younger man went on with excuses he didn't even seem to buy himself, Arthur stood and took a two-thirds' dry bottle of firewhisky from above the cabinets, pouring himself a drink and leaving the bottle out for the other to do with as he wished. He took a searing sip of the nasty stuff, the liquid shivering in the short glass. He wasn't a man prone to drinking, to dulling pains with liquor, but what Fabian was handing him was…too much. Where was the man he knew? He's kept this buried for so long. Not telling me, not telling Molly. Why come clean now?

Because he's been confronted with it. Consequences, after all this time.

It was obvious to him now, why Fabian thought this wasn't fixable. Why the muggle woman had thrown him out, as she must have, for him to be at the Burrow. He felt a spark of good on you for her actions, really, at this new knowledge; more respect for her as he lost so much for the man, as she knew better than to stand for being treated like this. But she was in an unfortunate pickle, Arthur knew; her son was magical, and while Kyra could continue raising him on her own, soon enough he'd start showing his capabilities, if he hadn't already. He'd need guidance, lessons in safety, from someone who knew what was what. And if she could forgive, that someone would be Fabian. If not...you and Molly will extend a hand. The boy was their nephew, and once Molly knew of him, it wasn't as of either of their consciences could let the pair continue without offering their help.

"You could have let her be. Let her live her life. Even if you didn't intend to return…you could have come to us, and we would have helped her. You know we would have taken her in, if she meant so much to you. But life can't be lived in coulda, shoulda, woulda's." Arthur sighed away the advice he told his children, biting back another drink as he tried to reconcile…all of this with the lanky boy so proud to have him attend his Quidditch matches, once upon another time. "A death sentence...spare your sister that, would you?" He sighed quietly, wonderingly, as he heard her steps on the stairs.

[Fabian Prewett]

Arthur’s voice was raised, and Fabian knew that little ears were doing their best to listen from the rooms above. He wanted to fight back, wanted to tell Arthur that no it wasn’t because Kyra was a muggle, except that it was because she was a muggle. He’d altered her first glimpse of magic because she could know, because there were laws about this sort of thing. And each time she saw magic, he had to do it again. He had dated her after school, they had tried. But magic was always too close to hurting her, and that was what he had been trying to avoid. He had never wanted her to be hurt because of magic. Except he should have done better, because the magic that had hurt her the most had come from his own hand. He wanted to just tell Arthur the truth, all of it, because he hated how much this was hurting his brother.

But her not remembering?

It meant her not looking for him. It meant Alecto Carrow wouldn’t hurt her.

So he gave an excuse that was the truth, but not all of it. Arthur couldn’t know all of it, because none of them could. He looked away as Arthur spoke of the things he could have done, heart aching. He had wanted to go back, but that was taken from him. He had let her live her life, knowing that the thing he had done was the one thing keeping her safe. If she had remembered he had gone, had remembered they had gotten married, she would have come looking. Especially when she had found out about Griffin, he knew she would have tried to find him. And she had - but not in the places where she could have gotten information. If Arthur and Molly had known, they would have been targets too. The footsteps all the stairs drew his attention, and he nodded to Arthur’s request.

“I hate to ask, but can I borrow Errol? There’s someone I need to speak to soon.”

[Arthur Weasley]

Arthur could count the times he'd been shaking mad on one hand. Until tonight, the most recent event was when his twins had tried to force Ron into an Unbreakable Vow. His children treating each other like that was unfathomable, as impossible as everything out of Fabian's mouth. He almost regretted his sharpness, for the man was surely tearing himself apart inside more than Arthur could; but he didn't. If Fabian wanted to come clean about wiping a girl's memories for years, he would get Arthur's honest reaction to it. And he could tell that his brother wanted to fight back; there was still some fight in his eyes, even though he kept quiet as Arthur steadied his hand enough to drink.

Why didn't I see this happening?

For as much as Arthur tried to enjoy the gift that was his life now, he couldn't help but think back. How had he missed all of this? The twins were always nonchalant about relationships, besides when Fabian had brought the girl in question to this very house...Merlin's beard, more than ten years ago now, we only had Bill. When he and Molly had stopped hearing about her, though, the relationship ended, Kyra "safe" from the magical world...Did you ever really stop seeing her? Were we foolish enough to believe you? He didn't want to doubt Fabian, but the revelation was casting shadows on a relationship built over a lifetime. Because this...this wasn't something Fabian Prewett would do. This wasn't something Fabian Prewett could stomach. Not his Fabian.

He looked cautiously to the ceiling as he heard Molly on her way, grateful at least for his brother's agreement to stay quiet on the subject of...going off on a bloodydamn suicide mission after the Bones' tragedy. At his request, Arthur gave a short nod, waving him towards the owl's roost in the next room. "Do what you need to." He finished the whiskey, grimacing as he stared at the empty glass, turning it in his hand. "Molly, pop into Ginny's and rescue Bill, would you dear?" he called up before lowering his voice, considering the lost soul in his kitchen. He took a breath and let it out slowly, trying to soften his approach. He's suffering. He's regretful. He knows this was wrong. He...needs you and Molly, through this. "You are family, Fabian. You will always have a place here. If you need to stay, stay. But we're not done. We'll talk in the morning." With that, Arthur put his glass in the sink and headed upstairs, not knowing what he could tell his wife...