Oct. 1980: Thanks For The Memories: Fabian

[Kyra Thatcher]

▶︎ even though they weren't so great

Prewett apartment

You have to see him. Today.

Another morning had come too fast, another night where "sleep" was too generous a term to use. The last weeks had been a blur of fighting, tearful recollections and new understandings, and the need to take more than her share of days off of work to adjust to the many facets of the earth-shattering news Fabian had given her. She'd confronted those that she needed to in these past weeks, even driving all the way to Ottery St. Catchpole to talk to the Weasleys, in an attempt to get her head on straight. Fabian had deposited memories back into her mind that night, but hadn't given any sort of clue as to what she should try to remember in order to visit an original memory. That frustration, coupled with much other baggage, had gotten her to Phoebe and Edgar's the morning after. After the worst shouting match she'd ever had with her best friend, she'd gotten enough of her anger out to start listening. Listening to the why's, the justifications, the laws, the perks of this hidden world, the pits of it, and things she wasn't ready to hear about her and her dismissal of her first love.

Research, evidence-gathering - it was helpful. But not nearly as helpful as when Phoebe, or another someone who knew what had happened, told her what to try and remember. The kids were especially good at it, truth be told, once she'd calmed down enough to explain with their mum that they didn't have to hide themselves from her anymore. Stories about Grayson levitating either of his sisters were shown in vivid color in her mind, as were tales of owls and self-cleaning kitchens. Memories that weren't so great were reserved for post-bedtime confessions; attacks from "Death Eaters" at a march and a night out, fights she'd walked in on between the Bones' as they argued about the truth of the war Edgar was involved in...and the hard line of Fabian's mouth, the pain behind his eyes, every time he "adjusted" a memory.

It wasn't something he wanted to do. The "task" had been put upon him by Edgar years ago, as she'd found out. And he'd done it. Every time. 

While Kyra still thought it was foolish, senseless, selfish, of the lot of them...was it not just as heart warming that they so badly wanted her in their lives? The parts of their lives that had been safe for her to be involved in?

She was still puzzling this out, and thought she would be for all of her days. There was too much to unpack yet, and some answers she could get from no one but Fabian. And as much as she'd meant what she'd said the last time she'd seen him...in recent days she'd started to empathize with his plight. It was still all kinds of wrong, what he'd done - but his intentions were good. And despite everything, even her proclamation that they were done...the more that Kyra learned, the more she wanted to share this with him. She wanted him to be there when she remembered something new and good for the first time. She wanted them to exchange their feelings for the other, whatever a mess that they were, now that they were on an even playing ground. And until she saw him, forgave him as much as she could stomach, Kyra knew that no matter how much she learned, her nights would still be restless. The weight of what she'd spat at him that night was crushing her, as only guilt could. You understood so little of this then, let your mouth run...

But would he even have her back?

It was better to know than to spend another day wondering.

Kyra called the office, wondering when they were going to just let her off the payroll, and dressed. Stomach too unsettled for breakfast, the young woman put on her old leather jacket and hoped that the walk, the brisk autumn air, would do her some sort of good. But as it was, by the time she'd taken the stairs to the Prewetts' apartment, Kyra still had no idea how to even begin.

What do you want?

    Him back in my life. No more secrets. For him to know I'm starting to understand.

She knocked on the door before she could lose her nerve, fidgeting with her rings as she waited.

[Fabian Prewett]

“Give me a min,” he yelled from his room to the knocking on the door, digging around in the hopefully clean pile of laundry for a shirt. How early was it? A glance to the clock confirmed that it wasn’t nearly as early as he thought it was, just that he’d slept in late again. There was certainly more freedom that came with being a solo operative for the Order, but he hadn’t expected everything that had happened. Almost dying, and then going to see Kyra. Don’t think about her. He’d kept tabs on her of course, he couldn’t completely just walk away like she wanted him to. But he hadn’t gone by her place, had kept his distance like she wanted. It was the least he could do after almost 15 years of lying. Phoebe and Edgar were his only source of information, and there was only so much that he was able to get out of them.

Pulling the shirt on as he fumbled out of his room, his wand was in his hand before he even reached the door. Gideon wasn’t home, and he hadn’t been expecting anyone. With the world the way it was, one of his friends would have given him a heads up. Looking out the peephole, he felt frozen in place as the realization of who it was hit him. As much as he had been wanting to see her, was he ready for whatever this was? Undoing the locks, he pulled the door open and glanced at her only momentarily before he turned to head toward the kitchen. “Make sure you lock the door behind you, would ya?” he called over his shoulder.

He stayed silent as he moved about the kitchen, flicking his wand to get coffee brewing as he stared into their mostly empty fridge. So much for breakfast. Letting the door swing shut, he turned around to look at the blonde woman standing in his flat. Pretty as the day he’d first laid eyes upon her, and yet he could tell she’d had a rough few weeks. Not really surprising, given this was the longest she had ever gone without interference on his part when it came to knowledge of magic. “What can I do for you Thatcher?”

[Kyra Thatcher]

Fabian, fresh-from-sleep disheveled, saw that it was her on the other side of the door and was curtly on his way back inside. Shouldn't've expected anything more, Kyra thought, admittedly slightly peevishly, as her last sentiment to him had been brutal. What had he expected after revealing everything to her, though? Surely he hadn't expected her to be anything less than caustic off the bat, given the depth of betrayal he and the others had devised against her plotted for her safety. But she mutely took care of the locks, wondering why Fabian hadn't just magicked them back into order, and kept her coat on as she followed the...agitated fellow into the twins' familiar kitchen. The bloke was distracting himself from her, and she couldn't blame him. She could've called, but...you showed up on my door right out of hell, Fabs. Surely this isn't that bad.

Kyra perched on the kitchen table, watching with wonder in her eyes as the coffee pot started gurgling at a flick of his wand. Just sorting out what kinds of magic to use around me, then? Or had Fabian really believed that she'd stick to words said in anger - that she was done with him. She'd believed it then, but - but that was the first time, at that point, that she could recall going through such an argument. Seeing things from his perspective now - well, still her perspective, but from the accumulated memories he had had, that were new to her - she could see how he'd believe that that had been the final straw. It all made her mind spin when she thought about it, honestly, so she'd been doing her best to go piece-by-piece instead of dive in fully. But with him, with what she knew now about their history and their feelings...I do want to dive in. But when asked?...

Figured it was time I gave our family and friends a break, buck up and come here," she admitted as she looked over at him, wondering how much of her recent research exploits had made their way back to him and Gid. Her boot tapped a beat on the kitchen floor, fingers gripping the table's edge as she fought against self-protective instinct and spoke. "Look, I'm - I was out of line, calling you out like that without knowing more about - about the whole thing. I was really freaked out, and scared, and still am when I think on it. And it hurts, that you all kept this from me, don't get me wrong. But I've - I've seen you in the lead-ups now, heard our conversations. You never wanted to do it. And I'd rather it was you than one of the - erm - f*ck, what're they called, the Ministry people who do the memory magic? Anyway, I don't - I don't hate you, or anything like that, and I wanted you to know." The blonde threw a quick nervous smile his way, feeling slightly better now that she'd gotten much of what she'd been thinking just out there in the open.

[Fabian Prewett]

There was a part of him - a silly part, buried deep down underneath anger and hurt - that was happy she had come by. He’d left like she asked that night, first time he’d ever left here alone with memories of magic like that. But he’d thought maybe she would be by the next morning, or the day after. But days had stretched into weeks, and he’d grown to accept her decision. After all the years of lies it was understandable that she didn’t want anything to do with him, either friendship or more. But he would still dream of her, and wake up disappointed to an empty bed. Hell, he’d even been fighting with his brother in the last few weeks, on edge about everything. It was risky, having her memories back. If the wrong person found out then he’d have hell to pay. He’d always been a rule breaker, even in school, but these rules were far bigger than being out of bed past curfew.

Do you understand it now? How much of a risk I took for you?
        If there had been any other way, I would have taken it.
Could have told her the truth sooner, settled down.
        Any other safe way.

It still wasn’t safe, her knowing about their world. He wasn’t sure if it would ever be safe. They’d been fighting this damn war for years now, and the end was still so far away. The war was his life, the thing he’d spent so much of his time dedicated to. He wasn’t even sure what he would do if it ever ended. He was a soldier, he didn’t know anything else. Anything expect Kyra. She’d been such a grounding person over the years, another constant in his life. Someone that was truly good, who had a view of the world that he’d found many other muggles seemed to lack.

I just wanted to see you.

He met her eyes, interested to see what else she had to say. Of course, he had missed her, he’d been on edge waiting for every drop of information Phoebe and Edgar was willing to give him. He didn’t know what to say as she finished her piece, unsure of what exactly that meant for them. Because last time they’d talked she’d wanted nothing to do with him - but was she changing her mind? “Obliviators,” he said quietly, answering the question she had posed in her thoughts. “You remember that gal Gideon dated? Emmeline Vance? Her dad is one, don’t know if he was there at the whole carousel incident or not. Arthur was though, he works in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts office.”

The coffee pot was beeping at him, and he gave his wand another wave. There was no point in not using magic around her now, and frankly, it was easier for the coffee to continue to make itself than for him to busy himself with it. “I am sorry this is something I kept from you.”

[Kyra Thatcher]

You've got to actually say you're sorry for cutting him out.

As Kyra rambled to the end of her piece - As if you've only got one, could've taken this on any of the tangents you learned about this month. - she knew there was more to say. There was more to unravel, more to piece together, more to pick Fabian's brain about. "I don't hate you" - great start, she chided herself. That's not enough. Not nearly enough. Where's your gumption gone, woman? She'd thought she could do this, face him fully - Are you sure? - aware of their f*cked past and move forward. But to do that, he needed to be on board. And Fabian hadn't ever been so guarded around her as he was now. You waited too long...

Her brows twitched curiously as he spoke, nodding to his naming the Ministry worker, a smile flitting over her features at the mention of Emmeline Vance. "I know I've forgotten a lot, but I'd never forget her or Marlene," she said as an attempted tease, trying to not show how bothered she was by mention of the one memory that he couldn't restore. Gray had filled her in on that one, the wild chase she'd taken after him when some lunatic bewitched a carousel...And Arthur, when she'd confronted him about it, at least had had the grace to seem honestly remorseful at the predicament... 

A slight silence fell in the wake of the coffee pot's alarm, and Kyra was trying to mentally navigate the various paths they could take from here, figure out which would do the most good. Apologize for snapping at him? Thank him for taking on the burden of memories? For keeping her safe? Acknowledge that she should've visited sooner?...Her eyes snapped to his at the unexpected apology, and she let out a sharp breath, fingers drumming sharply on the table before she pushed off of it and blurted, "Come here, would you?"

Talking like this wasn't her strength. She could argue to the moon and back about Elvis' death or the moon landing conspiracy, but getting vulnerable was no honed skill. But, heart beating wildly as she pulled him into an embrace, this helped. Touch had always helped her communicate when words failed...You still love him. Will he still love you? She leaned into him, arms wrapping around him with her intent - release not forthcoming. "I should've come to see you sooner," Kyra said softly after a few moments, "but I needed to start figuring this out on my own. My world doubled overnight, but it wasn't something I could process as fast as that." Come on, Kiki. "...Thank you for trying to keep me safe. I didn't know you cared so much. Sometimes I don't know what's more world-shaking, that or the magic," she admitted with a shaky laugh.

[Fabian Prewett]

His mouth twitched when she mentioned Marlene, threatening a smirk that he was trying hard not to let show. Kyra hadn’t been pleased when he’d brought the girl to the Bones’ Christmas party, with pointed comments from both her and Phoebe escaping during the night. But he also remembered Danick, the foreign wizard who’d stolen the attention of all the woman there that night. Hell, he’d even be in drawn in by the charisma of the bloke as he entertained them all with stories of his home, serenaded them with his guitar, and stole the show for the evening. A night of good memories, versus the numerous bad memories he was sure Kyra had been filled in on over the time since he had last seen her.

His apology was a rough one, the lump in his throat causing his own voice to sound strange to his ears. It sounded hollow, and he wasn’t sure she’d believe the words. He meant them, he’d never wanted to do the things he did. But she’d made it all too clear that she had no interest in pursuing anything with him anymore, and the soul crushing feeling of those words simply wasn’t going away. Not even with her here in his flat, despite the words she had said to him. Understanding what he had done was different than forgiving him for it. His eyes shot back to her as she stood from the table, and he didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around her tightly, holding her close to him as tears threatened to fall.

Her quiet words were enough to cause those tears to spill over, and he hugged her tighter to avoid looking at her. She should have come sooner, if this was how she was feeling. He understood, however, why she didn’t. After he’d left her flat that night, he’d gone to see Edgar and Phoebe. He’d given them a rundown of the night, and a warning for the next day. They had made a plan then to have Edgar and the kids gone, and from what he’d heard later the blowout between Phoebe and Kyra had been an intense one. But if she could forgive her best friend…

“I’ve always cared for you,” he murmured into the top of her head, before leaning back so that he could look down at her. “But I realize - now - that the choice I made to keep this from you wasn’t mine to make. I’m sure you’ve heard enough about the rules for muggles and magic. Hell, I saw what Edgar and Phoebe went through when he finally told her. I just didn’t want to lose you.”

[Kyra Thatcher]

You were gone too long.

You could’ve written or called. Told him you were investigating and needed time.

After screaming him out of the apartment? Telling him in no uncertain terms that you were done with him for good? Then he just wouldn’t’ve been here when you showed up…

As Fabian apologized - and not for the last time, she was sure - seeming so downtrodden and unsure of himself, of how she would take his words, Kyra wondered if she really had successfully pushed him away the last time they’d spoken. It was what she’d wanted at the time, as she’d been too pummelled with information and emotions to find an iota of forgiveness within her. The deception of not only the man before her, but his brother and their mutual friends, their closest friends, family really - it had hurt more than the reality of magic could excite her. That those she loved hadn’t trusted her - No, they were being protective. Well meaning fools.

It was clear to her that they couldn’t have this conversation with distance between them, though, and her heart jolted as he met her eye at her request. Seeing the depth of pain, of regret, of loss… She held him tightly, nestling in better now than when they’d been teenagers, and felt a tremor between them as something in him broke. His voice was teary when he could respond, and Kyra found herself struggling to hold back her own.

She found his tearful eyes when he leaned back to continue, but nearly laughed - inopportunely, in frustration, in relief - at his last. "Good God, Fabs - I thought you knew me. Should’ve known the surest way to lose me is to lie," she said with more than a note of desperation. She’d spent much of her life looking for the truths of the world, exploring branches of divination and mythology and spirituality to see if any held water. Hell, she’d even done a palm reading for him once upon a time! All in the pursuit of finding what was bullsh*t and what was true! "I saw them then too - have conflicting recollections of the time now, very muddling, but you didn’t learn from them? That betraying our trust for so long was the problem, more than magic was?" She sighed and gave his arms a squeeze, coffee forgotten. "I've been away to learn, and to see if I could forgive you and the lot of them for this. Nothing's simple about this, nothing's straightforward, but - but I'm working on it. Because…you, Pheebs, the kids - you're the most important parts of my life. I…need you all. I can't just start over, and I don't want to." She let out a long breath, blinking away the welling tears. Does vulnerability ever get easier? "So I guess - I'm wondering - can you forgive me too?"

[Fabian Prewett]

He felt like a fool, standing in his kitchen crying as he hugged her. There had been long stretches of times in their lives that they had gone without seeing each other, it was part of getting older. But after confessing his feelings and his failings? Every second since he had left her flat was like a knife in his heart, a reminder that everything he wanted was being taken from him because of everything he had done. But at least she was here, and she didn’t hate him, that was a start.

He smiled down as she laughed, nodding at her words. Fabian was well aware that it was never the magic that was the problem, but the lies that they’d so easily adapted to. The smaller lies weren’t the issue - Hogwarts was a boarding school in Scotland, and they had never learned how to do muggle things until after they’d left. But the bigger picture was how long they’d lied, how complex the lies had gotten. And because of him, how muddled her memories must seem.

He watched her intently, taking in her everything she had to say. He moved a hand to her cheek, thumb brushing at escaped tears she was trying to fight. “It was the fifteenth of June, 1974 when you confronted me for the first time. The weather wasn’t great, a storm was rolling in and the National Front was marching. But the two of you weren’t going to let the rain stop you from a counter-protest, and I went with you. Your first glimpse of magic wasn’t even from me, but the Death Eaters who had decided to take advantage of the chaos. Guy died right in front of you,” he said quietly, his own voice choked up as he remembered the fear that day. “It could have been you or Phoebe, and I’d only just agreed to get even more heavily involved in the war. I can’t ever forgive myself, but of course, I forgive you.”

[Kyra Thatcher]

Back in my life. No more secrets. I’m starting to understand.

Her desired outcomes repeated, mantra-esque, as they held each other. As tears fell from the quaking mountain of a man in her arms, she didn’t know what to do with the intensity of feeling except to hold him tighter. Her relationships beyond him had been quick and superficial on the whole, and she wasn’t even fully aware of all of the depths to theirs, given her missing moments. But this - this sort of needing beyond wanting, of assurance granted without demanding something in return, of forgiveness for the unforgivable - was overwhelming. It was beyond logic or comprehension, deeper than instinct…

And she was done fighting it.

Kyra’s grip loosened just enough for Fabian to lean back to speak, and while she felt a new resolve firmly in her heart as they spoke, she knew they still had a long way to go. Their relationship hadn’t ever been as honest as either deserved. He’d done things she shouldn’t forgive. And he’d saved her, again and again, when she couldn’t save herself. It wasn’t with a mind full of debts to be repaid that she’d come back; they’d been denying themselves a real chance at one of the purest things life had to offer, and for far too long she’d pretended it didn’t bother her. We deserve a chance.

And so she let her heart speak, pouring out more of her honest self than she’d ever expected him to want to catch and hold on to. And in return, her tears were seen and gently tended to, a story recounted that she’d heard from Phoebe’s perspective, seen through unmasked memory...But hearing it now from Fabian was like knowing it anew. The anger she’d felt that day at him was something she’d so long just thought to be because he’d lied with Edgar about becoming cops instead of soldiers. But now, restored memories of Phoebe’s reveal of magic colored that anger much more crisply. She’d taken that anger out on him, but he hadn’t let that slow his actions; he’d apparated her and Phoebe out of the deadly march. Fear for their lives had overtaken his duty to fight for the greater good. An echo of that fear shined in his eyes now, his last threatening to shatter her heart. We'll work on that.

With more thought than she'd ever put into a kiss between them before, Kyra pulled him back to her. There was no rewriting of history; mistakes had been made and were now being dealt with. There would be no more forgetting of wrongs. But what had kept them apart was, oddly enough, fear of the stubborn love between them. Because him loving her put her in danger, while she thought loving him would break her. Give you something to fight for, she thought with a wicked smirk to his lips at the end, inner joker rising despite her efforts at being earnest. Yeah - this'll take some getting used to. "I...I believe that your intentions were good. And it’s not like I can just stop...loving you. But," she continued fiercely, "this is the last time I learn about this. Promise me."

[Fabian Prewett]

I stand by what I've said before - she'll understand.

Understanding what he had told her was one thing, and that wasn’t something he had ever doubted. Kyra would, inevitably, understand why he had done the things he had done. She would understand why Phoebe kept the secret, she would understand why things over the years hadn’t always seemed to make sense. There was no need to drive to Edgar and Phoebe’s for birthday parties because they could just apparate, which really meant there was no need to drive at all. But understanding was different than accepting, different than forgiving. Edgar and Phoebe had done their best to reassure him that she was coming around, that things weren’t as bleak as he felt. But none of that had felt real until she was here in his flat, in his arms.

And while they had shared numerous kisses before, those were nothing compared to the one she was giving him now. It was the first time they had ever existed like this, free of the lies he had been keeping. It was one he didn’t want to end, but he found himself smiling at her at she pulled away. A smile that grew bigger as Kyra spoke, and he rested his forehead against hers. “The last time, I promise,” he whispered to her. The moment was soon ruined at the pecking at his window, and he gave a laugh before he pulled away. “Sorry, that’s the Prophet, one-second love.” He had to hunt the kitchen counter for the proper money to give the owl, and he tossed the paper to the side without a glance at it. “I’m sure you’ve learnt about our purpose for owls by now.” Phoebe had only been trying to keep the Bones’ owl out of sight for ages now, a feat that had been much easier after Edgar and Phoebe had moved out of their flat.

“Do you want breakfast?”

[Kyra Thatcher]

Deciding to trust him today could be the most foolish thing she’d ever done.

He or any of the others could change her memory again. They could wipe out this last month and plop her into her day-to-day life as if it hadn't happened. Hell, they could go farther and remove all record of them from her life, and she'd have no means of knowing.

But they wouldn't.

Kyra had to trust that. A terrifying realization, really, but - in order to stay sane, in order to be happy, in order to move forward with her life instead of continuing in stasis, it was time to trust her favorite liars. Doing so would open up a fuller life; the Bones', Prewetts, Weasleys, they could finally grow authentically together. No more tiptoeing around subjects, no more hiding the kids' magical accidents. Just...the truth. And speaking of a fuller life, she couldn't stop her smile at Fabian's promise. There was still a mess of a war for them to deal with, and while he'd never been alone in it - not with Gideon and Edgar at his side - now he could have a different sort of support. She'd learn from Phoebe, how to survive this wizard-secret-service-partner ordeal. And we'll get Liz into the fold, she promised herself, seeing it only fair that her sister knew as well. She was Cami's godmother, for - what did they say? - Merlin's sake.

Nerds, she thought affectionately, watching with her heart uncomfortably warm as Fabian went to address...the owl at the window. The owl carrying the day's Prophet. She'd pored through many of them at the Bones', the remarkable way that magic changed something like a daily newspaper something she wasn't close to getting over - not to mention all of the news. Learning about the wizarding political sphere, gardening tips, advice columnists, and war updates through the paper was a new favorite hobby. And a good thing, too - her lonely research about the magical world was coming to an end, seeing as she now had reliable sources of information. (Including a pile of Edgar's old and scribbled in "boarding school" textbooks.)

"Yeah, you lot really are all about that old-world-wizard aesthetic," Kyra teased, immediately fetching the discarded paper. A feature of the Minister for Magic, Millicent Bagnold, consumed the front page once unfolded. She felt a satisfaction at knowing that both of Britain's leaders were strong women, both fighting back from constant attacks, and was settling in to read when Fabian pulled her from her distraction. "Oh! Breakfast, yes, thanks," she said with a warm smile, shrugging out of her jacket. "Your domestic skills anything like your sister's?"

[Fabian Prewett]

He wasn’t really sure where they went from here. Things were okay between them again, and she knew that he loved her. He knew she loved him, and that the chance she was giving him was far more than he deserved. But he wasn’t Edgar, he didn’t do romance and proper dating. It felt like he needed to do some grand romantic gesture for her, because that was the sort of thing that was proper in this situation. It did mean that he would need to talk to Edgar, however, because he couldn’t not do something for Kyra. Just perhaps, not today. Today they could work on figuring out the details, figuring out what memories she needed help putting back together. He knew she had heard plenty of stories over the past month, but filling in the bits and pieces she still needed was something he was more than willing to do.

He grinned as she was quick to pick up the paper he tossed the side, the tease tossed his way enough to make him laugh. Picking his wand up from the counter as she made herself comfortable, he gave it a flick to get the coffee warmed back up. “If Molly saw some of the things I’ve eaten over the years, she’d probably never let me feed myself again,” he answered, returning to the fridge to dig out the few remaining groceries that he had. “But if you like...eggs and beer, I’ve got that covered.” After they had left school, it had been in their best interest to learn a few cooking basics to fit in. That didn’t mean he’d attempted to learn since then, him and Gideon almost solely surviving on scrambled eggs or already cooked food they brought home.

“You know it’s not all about aesthetic,” he spoke up as he set to work in the kitchen, pleased to be using magic for cooking in front of Kyra for once. “In places with lots of magic, electronics don’t work. So in school, our only real communication to our families were letters delivered by owl. No phones to call home, they wouldn’t work.” While he had since grown accustomed to bits of muggle things in his everyday life, Hogwarts was a special place he’d always treasure. That being said, “But the quills and parchment? A bit much, I would agree.”

[Kyra Thatcher]

We don’t know how to do "normal." Any sort of codependency in a romantic relationship, for that matter. But we can learn together. We will.

Eyes following him from over the top of the wizarding paper, watching as he moved around the kitchen in search of something to make for them, it was...really nice, actually. Sure, they'd shared moments similar to this over the years, given the many times she'd slept only a few footsteps away from this spot; but getting a peek into what their domestic times together could be like, now that all was out on the table, it felt different. Scary, in a way, to realize that they could be in a kitchen that was theirs down the road, and the head full of hair she saw coming out of the fridge could one day be covered in grays, or gone bald, or be somewhere in between. To realize that moving forward with Fabian meant a big shift in the life she'd been living. To have a bloke she knew she could rely on, and to have to consciously let go of some of her stubborn self-resiliency in order to actually let him have a place in her life. Because coming to him like this, telling him how she felt - this wasn't like starting a relationship with some guy. This was going in with Fabian. Thinking long-term was wild and entirely out of her usual realm of possibility - But it’s about time, chided an inner voice that sounded suspiciously like Pheebs.

"If you don't know that I'm an eggs-and-beer girl, then maybe we should rethink this whole endeavor," she teased, unable to sell the seriousness at all by failing to keep a straight face. Kyra was surprised to hear that he didn't have more culinary tricks up his sleeve, seeing as his sister had them in spades. How much of your life have you kept even from Molly, then? she had to wonder. She set the paper down upon realizing that he was getting breakfast going using magic, bright eyes following the eggs as they cracked and scrambled and… Electronics don’t work at Hogwarts? Tearing her focus from the display back to him, she had to grin.

"All right, all right - not all for the aesthetic....You know, I've been learning a helluva lot about your world." She leaned back in her chair, the understatement bringing a chuckle from her. "Magic, creatures, history, laws...it's been fascinating. Liberating, really, to have that validation, to know I wasn't mad for believing there was more out there than I could prove. But you - having your feet in both worlds but raised in one, what's it that engages you most in mine? I mean, I know you're Arthur's brother by marriage, not by blood," Kyra said with a bit of a chuckle, "but you've got to have your own appreciation of us if you're willing to...do what you’re doing." For while there was an altruism that went into his being a soldier, fighting for the good of her world and his own, Kyra couldn't imagine someone being willing to sacrifice themselves - Not that it's going to come to that, dammit. - for a bunch of strangers if they didn't have a vested interest somehow. Well - beyond wanting to protect...me.