(no subject)
Fabian walked down the High Street of Hogsmeade with his nephew alongside him. Bill had recently turned six, and as his gift, he got to spend the morning with his uncle. They'd been to Honeydukes already (he'd get a scolding from Molly for that one later, but it would be worth it) and were now going to Scrivenshaft to pick up a few new quills for Fabian. His current ones were almost worn out from all of the notes and training exercises he'd done lately. He'd just picked out a couple of promising-looking ones when Bill tugged on his arm.
“That man is staring at us,” Bill told him. Fabian looked over where Bill indicated and saw his father's brother, his uncle Ignatius, staring at them. His wife Lucretia, one of the Blacks, was there with him. His father and his uncle didn't get along, and had hardly spoken to each other since his father married his mother. Fabian turned back to Bill.
“He must not have been paying attention when his parents told him not to stare because it's rude,” Fabian said. “Come on, let's pay for these and then we're done here.” He and Bill started in the direction of the counter to pay for his selections. As they passed by his uncle and his uncle's wife, Ignatius spoke.
“I didn't think you were old enough to have children,” Ignatius said to him. Fabian stopped walking and looked over at him.
“I don't,” Fabian said. “This is Molly's oldest.”
“So Molly's married then,” Ignatius said.
“Has been for seven years,” Fabian said. He found it unlikely that Ignatius hadn't actually known this; that sort of news tended to make its way through the pureblood community. “He's a pureblood.” That was the kind of thing Ignatius liked to hear. He liked to think that his brother's children would see the error of their ways.
“A pureblood, you say? One of the better-known families, I suppose?” Like his own marriage with the Blacks had been.
“Arthur Weasley.” His uncle's reaction was exactly as Fabian had expected: a look like he'd just taken a bite of something foul-tasting. Marrying a blood traitor like Arthur Weasley was almost as bad as marrying a Muggle-born. This was precisely the reason his father and Ignatius did not get along. They valued different things. They were on different sides of the war, and it would stay that way. Ignatius still hadn't figured out that his brother's children were siding with their father. Or he hadn't given up the hope that they might not. Perhaps it was time to make him aware of this for sure.
“We do need to be going,” Fabian said. “I do need to get him back to his parents sometime today, and I have a few more things to pick up. Supplies and such. For training. There are so many things an Auror must have to do their job properly. It's easier to catch Dark wizards if they don't know you're coming.”
Leaving him surprised and stuttering for a response, Fabian led Bill to the counter to pay, then out of the shop by the long way, avoiding walking past his uncle again. When he returned Bill to his parents, he made some excuse to Molly about his changed mood. This was not something she needed to hear about.
By the time he made it home, he hadn't been able to shake the mood. So for now, it would be him, and a bottle of firewhiskey, and possibly a nap on the couch.
“That man is staring at us,” Bill told him. Fabian looked over where Bill indicated and saw his father's brother, his uncle Ignatius, staring at them. His wife Lucretia, one of the Blacks, was there with him. His father and his uncle didn't get along, and had hardly spoken to each other since his father married his mother. Fabian turned back to Bill.
“He must not have been paying attention when his parents told him not to stare because it's rude,” Fabian said. “Come on, let's pay for these and then we're done here.” He and Bill started in the direction of the counter to pay for his selections. As they passed by his uncle and his uncle's wife, Ignatius spoke.
“I didn't think you were old enough to have children,” Ignatius said to him. Fabian stopped walking and looked over at him.
“I don't,” Fabian said. “This is Molly's oldest.”
“So Molly's married then,” Ignatius said.
“Has been for seven years,” Fabian said. He found it unlikely that Ignatius hadn't actually known this; that sort of news tended to make its way through the pureblood community. “He's a pureblood.” That was the kind of thing Ignatius liked to hear. He liked to think that his brother's children would see the error of their ways.
“A pureblood, you say? One of the better-known families, I suppose?” Like his own marriage with the Blacks had been.
“Arthur Weasley.” His uncle's reaction was exactly as Fabian had expected: a look like he'd just taken a bite of something foul-tasting. Marrying a blood traitor like Arthur Weasley was almost as bad as marrying a Muggle-born. This was precisely the reason his father and Ignatius did not get along. They valued different things. They were on different sides of the war, and it would stay that way. Ignatius still hadn't figured out that his brother's children were siding with their father. Or he hadn't given up the hope that they might not. Perhaps it was time to make him aware of this for sure.
“We do need to be going,” Fabian said. “I do need to get him back to his parents sometime today, and I have a few more things to pick up. Supplies and such. For training. There are so many things an Auror must have to do their job properly. It's easier to catch Dark wizards if they don't know you're coming.”
Leaving him surprised and stuttering for a response, Fabian led Bill to the counter to pay, then out of the shop by the long way, avoiding walking past his uncle again. When he returned Bill to his parents, he made some excuse to Molly about his changed mood. This was not something she needed to hear about.
By the time he made it home, he hadn't been able to shake the mood. So for now, it would be him, and a bottle of firewhiskey, and possibly a nap on the couch.