to be so lonely.

///

Michel couldn’t breathe. The felt untethered, unmoored like a ship that had become detached from its anchor. Everything that they knew about themself, everything that they were came back to being Veela, and without at that Veela magic, they felt like their entire body was on fire. The pain was unimaginable, and Michel looked up at Ewan with large, panicked eyes. What the fuck was happening? 

“I—I don’t know—” Michel started speaking in rapid-fire French, barely gasping out the words as their Veela teeth extended once more and then felt like they retracted completely into their skull. “I don’t know what’s happening, everything hurts. Everything hurts.” They reached a hand up to grasp at Ewan, not caring that they didn’t know who it was or why he was helping them. All they knew was that they were in way, way out of their depth. 

-

Ewan didn’t flinch as Michel flashed their teeth for a brief moment. He held onto them just the same and looked around anxiously for anyone that looked like they could help. “I’m afraid we’ve lost our magic for a spell.” Ewan attempted a smile and a joke in order to lighten the mood. Unfortunately, it did little to help Michel forget the obvious peril that they were in. 

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Arjun didn’t know what to do in the days following the rally, so he ended up spending a lot of time with Ewan. Watching the kids was a good way for Arjun to forget that anything had ever happened and that was exactly what he wanted. The image of Dorothy pounding her fists against the door, the cries for help echoing around the arena…they haunted him in a way that he hadn’t felt before. He needed to talk to someone who remembered the last war, who remembered how bad it was and how much Arjun had given up to give himself over to the cause. Ewan knew how much pain Arjun felt over what he had done, how much he had suffered and lost. Ewan knew how much like a battle that rally had been. 

“I’m sorry I’m here again,” Arjun said sheepishly. “I just don’t know where else to go.” He didn’t have a lot of friends. He hated being a burden. 

-

“I don’t mind,” Ewan shrugged his shoulders as he sat across Arjun on the couch, “And they certainly don’t either. Fabian and Gideon have been bragging at the park that a famous Quidditch player visits them from time to time. I believe Molly started referring to as her uncle now.” Ewan didn’t think he and Arjun would get here after the broke up, but obviously the war had changed everything. Now they found comfort in one another as friends.

“I can put them outside if you wanted to talk about-- the other day.” Ewan and Donny didn’t tell the children about the rally, they didn’t want to scare them with a new darkness lurking out in the world. After everything the three kids had been through with the Global War winding down, Ewan didn’t want them to think they’d lose another set of parents. 

.

If he let his mind wander back, he would get stuck on little details - the wandfire, the blood, the screams. He could not let that happen, not here. Hector shook off the memories quickly. “You did, but don’t forget who patched your wounds,” he shot back, with teasing bravado of his own. Underneath that, of course, was his sense of being haunted by those old wounds. Never would he forgot what it had been like to have his friend’s life in his hands. And yet, he had to defer to Ewan’s judgement, he was right. They all had a better chance together. 

“You’re right, as always, my friend. Forgive me. I’ve become cautious in my old age.” Along with the trauma, he could remember the Hector he’d been before, too - a far braver version than the one now who at times felt as if he’d lost all his instincts for a fight. He straightened his shoulders, not in defeat but in acceptance, nodding, as the line began to move forward, ready for all those waiting to take their seats, “Alright then. Stay alert. With luck, this will all come to nothing.” 

-

“Impossible, I’d never forget.” Ewan’s nose wrinkled as he shook his head. Besides his own husband, Hector was really the only other person he trusted with his life in battle. The war allowed the two of them to form a comradery that ran deeper than Ewan could ever have imagined. Hector was no doubt his closest friend after everything they went through, and he’d be insane to think Ewan would ever willingly ditch him if everything went sideways. 

“Don’t worry, I’ve yet to allow the twins to start their broom lessons. You know how careless they can be, and I can’t fathom the thought of them without their feet on the ground.” Ewan scoffed and looked down to his feet. He’d been careless in his own youth, but now Ewan was nervous to even let his children go outside without tempting the option of covering them in bubble wrap. “One can only hope, mate.”

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Phoebe had gotten stalled in her little investigation into what had happened at the arena. She knew that she had to ask Ewan—who was one of the few people she trusted to give her a thorough and accurate report on anything—what he had seen there, but upon going to see him, she could see that he was a lot worse for wear than she had anticipated he would be. She felt bad, trying to press him for information during a time when he needed support more than he needed to work, but Phoebe had long since learned that slowing down was death. 

She had seen more than her fair share of breakdowns, however, especially during the last war, so she wasn’t going to try and push Ewan too hard. The last thing she wanted was to push him over the edge of the cliff. “I’m no closer to finding out what happened at the rally,” she said mournfully, looking up from the mug of tea sitting in front of her. “It’s bloody frustrating is what it is,” she added. “Who the hell was he?”

-

Ewan visibly looked fine-- he always did. He knew how to control any nervous tremors in his hand, and to refrain from tapping his foot anxiously. Ewan never wanted anyone to worry over him because he was already worried about everyone else. The fact that he and Donny could’ve been stripped from their magic had shaken him to his core. How were they to help their children if the loss of magic was permanent? The only sign that Ewan was in any sort of distress was that his eyes never wavered from the window near them.

“I’d never seen him in my life. His face was too mundane to be memorable.” Ewan scoffed after taking a sip from his tea. “The perfect criminal mastermind.” Ewan hated not knowing who he was, he hated that the man didn’t have any significant identifying features to run off of. It was like a blip in time that never even happened. 

///

Donny felt a light smirk quirk up at the corner of his lips at the memory of that day. “The only thing I remember is you planting a big, wet kiss on me when you thought we were going to die,” he replied with a cheeky grin. Donny had a habit of covering up his true feelings with humor, especially when he got nervous, and Ewan knew that. Usually, Ewan just let it slide—something that Donny was infinitely grateful for. His anxieties were going to do nothing but make him feel even more nervous about going inside, and he was going to have to steel his nerves. “Hey, by the way, I told Kenzie to find us once she gets in. I don’t want her to be here all on her own.” 

-

“You’re my knight in shining armor, what can I say?” Ewan shrugged with a smug smirk on his face. The memories they had together were irreplaceable, and even though most of them had been horrid in the moment-- Ewan wouldn’t have wanted to forget a single one. Donny was everything to him for as long as he could remember, and they still had so much of life ahead of them. “Should anything go wrong, we split up.” Ewan was always worried about the children, and he was always nervous whenever he and Donny were in the same place where there was an inkling of danger. As long as one of them could escape, the children would be alright.

“Sorry, sorry. I’m just restless,” he said, glancing up and down the line as he looked for any sign that something was going on inside. “That would honestly be the best scenario,” he replied, dropping his voice to nearly a whisper, so as to keep their conversation private. “Anything that happens here today is sure to be a clusterfuck. There’s no way that this is going to remain peaceful.” Donny was worried and had been worried about this rally ever since it was announced. Because his beat was blood equality, he knew that it was bound to get heated quickly, even if the rally turned out to be a bust. 

-

“We’ve got each other, Don. And I say that has worked out pretty well for us in the past.” Their history began in the midst of a global war, and it was enough for Ewan to feel like they could get through anything as long as they were together. Ewan put his hands on Donny’s shoulder to reassure him. “If anything happens in there, we do exactly what we did during the infiltration of the French Ministry. Chase down whoever the hell this turns out to be and hope we can bring ‘em in for confession.” Ewan had been persistent to bring Grindelwald and his acolytes down for the crimes they committed. He participated in the bounty hunts to bring them back so they could pay for all they’d done. This was beginning to look no different. 

The concern in Ewan’s voice only reflected his own. They had both thought they were finished with this, after Grindelwald. They had both come home and started families. Hector would never regret that - and he was certain Ewan wouldn’t either - but it had all felt so much easier all those years ago. There had been so much less to lose. Hector had been ready to die then, if he’d needed to. He’d even been prepared to watch Ewan die, despite how much he cared for his friend. Now if he died, he’d be leaving his family. If he saw Ewan die, he’d know what Ewan was leaving behind. 

That was a heavy burden, one Hector wasn’t sure he could carry. Though he smiled at Ewan’s profession that he would stay - Prewett really always had been far more stubborn than he looked, Hector thought fondly - he said firmly, “It’s not nonsense. I know what your family is to you - Donny, and the kids.” Of course, Hector’s family meant no less to him and so he couldn’t but feel the corrosive stab of guilt attacking his insides, but he told himself, Augusta understands. And Frank - Frank will understand, when he’s older. “I can handle myself.”  

-

Ewan had been quite the little spitfire as he grew up and came into his own being. While his family remained silent on their stance of the blood purity and blood equality debate, Ewan hastily made sure people knew where he stood. Ewan stood for equality, and he stood for change that would lead to a better world. He always wanted a better world for his future children, but now that he had children-- he’d do whatever it took for them to have a better chance.

“And you don’t think I can?” Ewan scoffed playfully. “Who got us out of all the rubble back at the infamous Attack at Gringotts?” They had both saved each other during the Global War. Ewan didn’t think he was going to make it out if it hadn’t been for Hector’s persistence the entire time. “I think it’d be far more effective if we were to handle ourselves together, friend. We might have more of a fighting chance this way.”

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“I have had—” Donny let out a heavy sigh as he took off his robes from the day. “The longest day.” He didn’t work full time as a journalist, but he was a regular contributor to the Daily Prophet, known now for his ultra-progressive views and often targeted for it. What happened today, he was basically required to write about, and if he didn’t, he was sure that people would have labeled him him a coward or said that he didn’t truly believe what he believed. Not that Donny cared much what people thought—he had long since given up on caring about that sort of thing, ever since he was bullied mercilessly at Hogwarts. It had given him a thick skin. 

He walked up to Ewan and wrapped his arms around Ewan’s waist, pulling him close and letting out another sigh, this one lighter. Relieved, even. “The kids in bed?” he asked, cocking his head to the side. He hoped they weren’t asleep yet, if only because he liked to go in and make sure to say goodnight to each of them before they fell asleep. Donny sometimes worked weird hours when he was freelancing for the Prophet, and he never wanted his children to feel like he was prioritizing work over them. They had already lost parents. They didn’t need an absent father as well. 

Ewan was a teacher of the muggle classics at a wizarding university in London. Since any of their three children were yet to be attending Hogwarts, Ewan was still dropping them off at a primary school on his way to work. Their life was always a hectic one, and adding Gideon, Fabian, and Molly to it only made it their life all the more exciting.

“You know they’re not. Gideon and Fabian didn’t even wait until I was out of the room to start their giggling and pull all their toys back out.” Ewan scoffed playfully. The children could never be still for long, and Donny and Ewan often found the boys fast asleep on the floor with their figurines in hand while Molly practically had the family cat in a chokehold snuggled in bed with her. “They get less and less discreet about it as they get older. We best prepare ourselves now for all the letters home from the headmaster.” Ewan shook his head.

☆ ( COLIN MORGAN, CISMALE, HE/HIM ) ☆ that over there would be ( EWAN PREWETT ), the ( 36 ) year old ( PUREBLOOD ) who ( DID ) fight during the global wizarding war. they attended ( HOGWARTS ) and are a ( GRYFFINDOR ) alum. which is fitting considering they are ( SELFLESS ), yet ( QUIET ). they are an ( ORDER OF THE PHOENIX MEMBER ) and also work as a ( CLASSICIST ). every time i see them, it’s like ( TO BE SO LONELY BY HARRY STYLES ) is playing in my head. ( freshly washed linen shirts, ancient classics, & wrinkles from laughter ). ☆