Clarity washed over Keira like a wave as she took the extended hand and gave a firm shake of it.

Prewett. Now it made sense. The hair, the similar features. Arthur had introduced Molly to her before, and comparing the young man before her to the mental image of the young witch ended the deja vu’ sensation that prickled in the back of her mind.

“You’re one of Molly’s brothers!” She exclaimed, glad to have figured out just who he was and put another face to the well known surname. Then she gestured to herself, having almost forgotten her manners, “Keira Grey, I’m one of Arthur’s friends.”

Not that this had anything to do with their conversation, but she was all the more happy to have ordered him the butterbeer. Having met Fabian, Keira felt pleasantly more grounded than she had before she’d walked into the Leaky Cauldron. Things had been rather isolating as of late, the work hours hard and long and ill-fitting for a social life. But luck seemed to be on her side for once, she’d been retied with the sense of connection, even if it was a small one. Keira didn’t mind in the least bit.

|| @fabianprcwett​

Something seemed to click with her when he introduced himself, and it soon made sense when she clarified that she knew of him, at the very least, through Molly. “Guilty,” he joked, cracking a smile. When she introduced herself, the name of course was familiar, and he nodded. “Arthur’s definitely mentioned you in conversation, now that I think about it.” 

Of course, this left him wondering whether or not Arthur had plans to introduce her to the Order at some point. He had been the one to introduce both himself and Gideon to the group, and Fabian had never been more grateful. He didn’t know what he would do at this point if there wasn’t at least the smallest comfort that the Order of the Phoenix stood against everything the Death Eaters stood for. After everything that had happened at the Solstice Ball, Fabian would be the last one to complain about more Order members. Too many of their own had ended up at St. Mungo’s after the catastrophic fighting that had led to the thing that he didn’t want to think about right at the moment. 

“He’s a good one. Didn’t even feel the need to give the threatening protective brother speech to him.” Even though Molly was older, the protective brother clause certainly still applied twice over. And if their parents continued to behave as poorly as they had been, well, he and Gideon would be more than ready to walk her down the aisle when the time came. 

Needing no further prompting, Keira took her seat. She didn’t bother to look out the window the wizard gestured to, knowing all too well what the weather pertained. Instead, she smirked and began the studious process of peeling off her outer layers. It was difficult, seeing as the on-pour made her coat tight in the sleeves, restricting movement in her shoulders. But little by little the trench gave way. This was fine with her, it gave her the chance to study the stranger across from her as she did so

The first thing she noticed, admittedly, was that he wasn’t wet. And while she was envious of the fact that his ginger hair wasn’t currently exuding rainwater it also meant that he must have kept his table in the Leaky Cauldron for a good quarter of an hour since that was when the weather had first turned. And that fact had to be commended, frequenters at the cauldron weren’t the patient sort. She then took stock of the square jaw, the gentle quirk of his smile that suggested good humor and the warm eyes. Keira couldn’t shake the feeling that she’d met him before, or at least seen him around. St.Mungo’s, perhaps? 

“Oh yes,” she finally said, determined to puzzle him out. He didn’t seem to recognize her either, which she supposed was fortunate. “Though you seemed to have dodged it quite nicely. Jammy.” Her nose wrinkled good naturedly, and a server appeared with a pint of a butterbeer, settling it down before Keira. 

“Will that be all for you?” Asked the server.

Keira looked to the pint and then the wizard, gaze ping ponging between the two before she decided- why the hell not? “Another butterbeer,” she said, “for my friend.”

||@fabianprcwett

“I was just about to head out when it started,” Fabian admitted. “Turned right around and nabbed my spot back.” Walking out in the rain sounded like the absolute last thing he wanted to do. He supposed he could have apparated right outside his flat, but even being out in that miserable rain for the slightest amount of time sounded wildly unappealing. He’d make it home eventually, but for now, since he was still buying things, no one was kicking him out. 

Fabian’s glass was empty, and he’d been about to order himself another, figuring he’d best put his money where his mouth was regarding being a paying customer instead of just loitering. However, before he got the chance, the woman was offering to buy him the next round. It was too busy to protest that she didn’t have to, so he simply said, “Thanks.” And then after a beat, “I’ll get the next one. If you’re planning on a next one, that is.” Fabian was sure that he wasn’t the best company to be around at the moment, but at the same time, it wouldn’t be difficult to put a last butterbeer on his tab before he headed out of the establishment. 

It occurred to him belatedly that he hadn’t introduced himself. “Fabian Prewett,” he said, offering a hand. “If you see me out and about doing something foolish, you can go ahead and assume that’s my twin, Gideon.” Twin jokes. Another easy fallback. He could only assume the woman didn’t know Gideon, or he would have been mistaken for him. As the more outgoing of the two, it happened quite often. 

=

Gideon couldn’t imagine his life without Fabian. He never wanted to even consider it as a possibility and yet tonight showed him that it was a very real possibility and he would be on the wrong side of the fight when it came down to it. He would always be on the wrong side when the actual fighting was happening. How could he not be? He had volunteered to go into the enemy camp. He had known what he was signing up for and yet it was just starting to become real. He hadn’t been able to be with his friends after the battle. Instead he  had been surrounded by the death eaters and the things he had said he could never forgive himself for. 

Still he was alive and Fabian was next to him. He needed to hold onto the thought of that. He needed to spend as much time with his twin as he could. The loss of his friend had been a blow that he wasn’t used to experiencing. What would he have said to her if he had known the last time they were together would be the last time? He had been a more absent friend lately. Caught up with his work and proving himself to the death eaters. 

“They don’t care if you’re neutral in the fight. If you aren’t one of them they don’t care. I don’t think they even see us as people.” They saw him of course. What he wanted them to see of him. “This is all becoming so real.” He wanted to seek comfort in his twin but how could he lay all his problems on his twin? He had agreed to play his part and it wasn’t right to put his feelings on anyone else. “I don’t see what I can say to make anything better. I’m here for you though.” 

It fully enraged Fabian what the Death Eaters were capable of, even as he sort of felt like he was drowning in the loss of the best friend that he hadn’t grown up with. Such a huge part of him was now missing that he hardly even knew what to do with himself. They’d been friends for fifteen years at this point, ever since they were first years. From late nights studying in the Hufflepuff Common Room to meeting up for a nightcap after a long day of work at the Ministry, she had been a permanent fixture in his life for so long. To have that ripped away so suddenly was just... How did you move forward from something like that? How did you move past it? He didn’t want to imagine a world without her, but that was the world he was currently stuck in. 

“Why would they?” he responded, and it was hard not to sound bitter. Bitterly exhausted. Maybe sleep would help him momentarily forget, but he would still have to wake up the next morning, the realization crashing over him all over again. Like the first time, maybe better or maybe worse, but always a terrible memory. The one genuinely bad memory surrounding her. Sure, they’d squabbled from time to time, but it had never been anything serious. Never friendship threatening. Just miscommunications or misunderstandings that ultimately turned out fine. 

“People aren’t useful to their godawful cause. It’s just.... It’s just bodies. Just followers.” It was an awful thing that Gideon had to be a part of, and it killed him that it had been his idea in the first place. Gideon had been the one with the connection, the possible in. Just because it was logical didn’t mean it was right. “I’m so sorry, Gideon,” he said, forcing himself to look him in the eye as he said this. “I’m sorry I suggested you be a double agent, and I’m sorry you have to pretend to support this... This-” He was at a loss for words, and it was overwhelming. He couldn’t hardly fathom which way was up at this point. The loss was crushing and terrible, and he couldn’t imagine a time where things weren’t this awful. 

“I got Marianne checkin’ in on me every feckin’ hour- ye know what’s she’s like. Ain’t exactly gunna let her sister mope in a bed by herself if she can help it.” Marianne had always been the best of them. Despite her occasional vanity, the simple love she possessed for people was unmatched; a caring soul that’s she’d no doubt picked up from their mother. “Reckon they’d be up for volunteers if ye asked round- from what I can gather they need all the feckin’ help they can at the minute.” The witch mused, her eyes turning down cast do her lap at the idea that St Mungos was that over run that they needed outsider help. “Bring us a good book will ye? And not any of this romance bullshite- I want some adventure, somethin’ worth merit.”

“Yeah, sisters are like that,” he said. Not that he wasn’t beyond grateful for Molly. In a way, it almost helped that she wasn’t as close with Amelia. He felt a certain way about things with Gideon because the two of them had been just about as close as he had been with her. Guilty, almost, that like many other things in life, they had to grieve this loss together. Molly, though? She knew exactly how to just be with him, without him having to try to be a certain way or mask anything. A sad, fond smile crossed his lips as he forced himself back into the present. “Yeah? I might just do some asking. Merlin knows I’ve earned enough time off at the Ministry.” It had been too easy for him to fall into the ‘married to his job’ trope when he enjoyed the work so much. Now it was just another thing that reminded him of his loss. Chuckling at her words, he nodded his assurance that he would do just that. “You’ll have to give me some ideas of what you’ve already read, though. And I’ll bring a few options just in case because I can already guarantee you’re more well read than most.” After all, it was her job, wasn’t it? 

where: st. mungo’s

It was getting ridiculous, how many of Fabian’s friends had ended up in St. Mungo’s after the battle. It was also just... Arbitrary. Fabian was also all tangled up in the idea of fairness. It wasn’t fair that there were so many members of the Order here all because of the Death Eaters. They hadn’t started this. What was more, the Death Eaters had been willing to throw out some nasty curses. Some Unforgivable curses. An unforgivable curse that you couldn’t take back.  Still, in St. Mungo’s, he couldn’t afford to be too caught up in his thoughts. He’d have to treat it like work. Throw himself into it and think about those other things when he was off the clock. With so many people out at the Ministry, it was only fair that he came into work. After all, the hospital wasn’t stopping him. He’d been fine. So many other people hadn’t been so lucky. 

James was one of the people he’d wanted to check in on, and he hadn’t even managed to ask where his room was when he spotted the other in the hallway. “James!” he greeted, pleased that he wouldn’t be risking waking him. His automatic smile faded quickly, though, when it occurred to Fabian that he actually had no clue what the other’s condition was. He hoped James was recovering well, but what had hopes ever gotten him? 

.

Alastor lay in his bed, despite the warm summer weather, his room had been kept at a cooler temperature and a blanket covered his legs. He was reading a book about experimental curses whilst he munched on an apple that had been brought during breakfast but had saved for later. Looking up as the door opened, he tried to flash a smile but he knew that his face was so riddled with frustration that it would have barely shown. “Fabian. Don’t worry, you’re not bothering.” To say Alastor had a few visitors would be an understatement, many people came and went but he appreciated the time they had all taken to come and see him. “Well firstly I’d like to say thank you. If it weren’t for you looking out for us whilst Cecelia patched me up, who know’s where we’d be today.” his faint smile still residing on his face. “How are you holding up? I know you two were close –” he trailed off, not really wanting to stir any emotions. “And Gideon? How’s he doing?” || @fabianprcwett​ 

Good. Alastor wasn’t the type to engage in platitudes that weren’t true. If he didn’t want to be seen, it was likely that he would have taken the out. “Don’t mention it,” Fabian replied, trying to keep his demeanor at least relatively upbeat. He only hoped it didn’t show how hard he was trying. “I’m happy I actually managed to help.” It had been a nightmare being trapped. He would have stayed to fight either way, but at least if they hadn’t been trapped, they could have gotten Alastor help sooner. Fortunately, St. Mungo’s seemed to be taking good care of him. He was in good spirits, all things considered. Frankly, Fabian was a bit impressed. Alastor Moody was so determined that even that dramatic of an injury wouldn’t keep him down for long. When Alastor asked how he was holding up, he nodded, swallowing once, not letting himself think too hard about the thing he wasn’t supposed to think about while he was here or at work. Still, it was impossible to avoid for too long. “I’m fine,” he said, with a practiced, even tone. He wasn’t, of course, but who was? Tt was what a person said to keep the conversation moving along. “And Gid, he made it through, too.” A soft exhale. “Just like you said.” Well. He’d been half right. “Just... Let yourself recover, all right? Don’t try going back to work before you’re at least mostly well.” Completely well seemed like a pretty tall order for this one. 

tw: amelia bones death, anxiety

It felt like she had barely slept since that fateful night. Ears wired as a precaution, despite her sister Marianne urging her to take a sleeping potion to ease her anxiety; Sersh refused. The idea of be stuck in a turbulent nightmare and not being able to wake more frightening than the lack of sleep itself. She’d managed to get a little with her eased nerves when Gus had been here, but Saoirse was exhausted from the after effects of the stunning spell and adrenaline of the night as it was; let alone insomnia to top.

Pulling out of her spinning mind by the sound of a voice, the witch drew her eyes from her notebook up to a familiar face. Her shoulders sinking with relief as a soft smile pulled onto her lips. “Company sounded feckin’ grand- take a pew Prewett-” The witch nodded as she pushed herself up in bed with a wince and scrunched nose. “Who ye here seein’? Reckon if ye hang tight ye can catch Marianne- she keeps comin’ in every once in a while- bit it’s a bit manic out there to say the least.” The witch spoke as she leaned back against the head board with a puff of air from her cheeks. “Ye hanin’ in already mate?”

Closing the door behind him, he headed in and pulled up an empty chair as requested. She was still so spirited, even after what had happened at the battle, and it was honestly refreshing. “Here’s hoping.” He’s been wanting to catch everyone. It’s stupid, but it helps seeing everyone in one piece. It helps to see them for himself in their varying stages of recovery to remind himself that they will recover. Every single one of his friends would recover except one. That was the hardest part to accept. Going to sleep every night, waking up the next morning. The five minutes a day he forgot before it crashed over him once again. 

Not here, Fabian reminded himself. It wasn’t about him. “Well, I stopped to see Moody, ran into James in the hallway, and that’s about it so far. Kind of irritating how many good people ended up here, but I hope they’re taking good care of you lot.” He can’t imagine how much the St. Mungo’s staff’s workload has increased after the ball, but he was willing to bet it hadn’t been pretty. “I’ve just been trying to help where I can. These are the times I wish I’d gone into healing instead of the Ministry.” You could really throw yourself into healing work. “And you? Got any requests from the outside world I can help you with?” 

where: St. Mungo’s

Making his rounds at the hospital, it only made sense to stop by and see Saoirse as well. He hated to think about it all. How much damage the Death Eaters had caused. How his best friend was dead. This- here... It wasn’t the place to think about it. He wasn’t sure if he believed in concepts like energy, but there were so many Muggles out there who would think the very idea of something like magic laughable, so he supposed he should stay open minded. So instead, once he moved from Alastor’s room, he went to find Saoirse next. 

He remembered it all very well. A part of him wished that he had just left after she’d caught him reading his book. For how helpful he’d been, he might as well have left. He would have gotten the news about Amelia eventually, but he would have gotten to exist in a world he believed her to be in for just a bit longer. A few more hours where he wasn’t quite so haunted. 

Stop it, he chastised himself. Taking a deep breath, he knocked on the door and forced a cheerful expression. “Hey, Saoirse. Up for some company?” He didn’t want to linger if she needed her rest, but it was important during times like these to show that a person cared. 

where: St. Mungo’s 

He could still picture it in his head, Alastor’s injury. How... Advanced it was. It was good that Cecelia had found him when she had because it had been bad, and that was putting it lightly. He knew some about healing charms, but he felt a lot more confident looking out for anyone who would try to send curses their way while someone was already down. Knowing what Fabian did of the Death Eaters, that was a very distinct possibility. 

Fabian was quick to find someone to give him directions, getting only momentarily sidetracked when a patient who looked a little lost came up to him. Once everything was sorted, he made his way to Alastor’s room. Knocking on the door, he waited for assent to enter before toeing inside, eyes trained firmly on his face to avoid the temptation to immediately look at his legs. “Hello,” he greeted softly. “I won’t stay long, I don’t want to be in your way,” he promised, very used to fast paced interactions with him. “I just wanted to check in... After everything...” Fabian trailed off. 

-

this was war. death would happen. people would pick their sides and lives would be lost. still it didn’t take the sting out of losing her. she had been one of his closest friends. he had been completely himself around her and that was so rare these days. he felt as if part of him was gone and he didn’t know how to move on from it. of course he had to hide his feelings. his loyalty could never come into question for the death eaters. bella already looked at him far too closely for his liking. he was fighting for the wrong side when it came down to it. every battle he could now find himself behind a mask. what would stop his twin from taking aim at him? nothing he supposed though he hoped fabian never hesitated to blast someone away on the chance that the face that lurked beneath the mask was his own. 

he didn’t want to see anyone. he had been caught up with the rest of the death eaters after the battle and as soon as he had been able to he had made his escape. he didn’t want to go home. how could he face his twin? why did the job given to him make him feel like he was betraying all that they stood for? he wondered if fabian had a hard time looking at him knowing that gideon could just as easily caused the death of one of their friends as of one of their enemies. home was where he found himself though. he wanted his twin even if he didn’t feel he had the right to seek comfort in him anymore. 

“fab.” he spoke softly moving closer into the room. his eyes scanning the scene in front of him. “what are you doing?” he thought he could guess but he asked anyway. he moved to sit on the couch reaching out to tug his twin down next to him. “can we just sit here and never leave the flat again? 

“‘s stupid,” he admitted, knowing full well what it looked like. no matter how many memories he tried to preserve in this pensieve, none of them would bring her back. he knew that. still, he couldn’t help but think about all of the things he would have said to her if he would have known that tonight would be her last night... she’d been beautiful in yellow, a bit melancholy, a bit overwhelmed, even if he was one of the few people she would ever admit that to. he took a shaky breath and wiped at his face where fresh tears threatened to spill over. he couldn’t honestly remember the last time he’d been such a mess. he knew he couldn’t do this without gideon, though. everything would be so much worse without gideon. 

his thoughts moved to edgar, then, and the feeling of guilt crashed into him. he wasn’t the only one who’d lost someone tonight. edgar lost a sister. ted lost a best friend. hell, even she and gideon had been pretty close. he wanted to do something for them, but for once in his life, fabian didn’t even know where to start. what could a person do when something like this happened? 

a regretful chuckle escaped his lips at gideon’s question, and he leaned into him a little more, glancing straight ahead at the silvery-white light in front of him. “i knew it was real before,” he said. “i had a theoretical understanding of how wars begin with the two opposing sides, their polar opposite views, and no way of finding any sort of middle ground. so it’s either one side or the other wins. i knew that.” he swallowed. “but she’s not even-!” he tried to take a steadying breath. “she wasn’t even in the order. she had nothing to do with it.”

who: @gidprewett

the thing about death was that the realization didn’t hit you just once. it hit over and over and over again. knocking the wind out of you each time with no regard for anything. as soon as he’d helped those he could arrive safely to st. mungo’s, fabian went home. he could only assume that was where gideon would end up. as he walked through the front door of their flat, it occurred to him that amelia would never do that again. it was stupid, really. she would never do anything again. he replayed their conversation earlier at the ball in his head, clinging to every word, holding tight to the memory. 

the memory. that’s what he would do. instead of pacing around the flat aimlessly waiting, fabian now had a goal. he didn’t have a real pensieve, so he took a bowl from the kitchen and transfigured it. it took the appearance of a shallow stone basin, which was now sat at their coffee table. he brought his wand to his temple, pulling memory after memory from his head and casting them into the pensieve. tears pooled in his eyes, and he let them flow, ever stubborn as he tried to think of everything. because never again would he hear the words from her “remember that time...?” 

the sound of the door opening pulled him out of his task, and then he was on his feet, wand stuffed into his pocket because he never wanted to be far from it again, after the events of tonight. “gid?” he asked, and his voice broke, needing it to be his twin, needing to see him face to face, not just a whisper of that might have been him in the body language, visage hidden behind a mask. 

.

Edgar felt like a deflated balloon. The night had taken a turn for the worst yet here he was, unsure of what to do with himself. “Yeah, St Mungos is great.” he agreed. He looked up to Fabian, the man being the one who introduced him into the order and who he considered to be a mentor. Not to mention that Fabian’s career sounded difficult yet amazing at the same time. “Yeah, I’ve also been around. I’ve had lots of great conversations tonight.” he smiled. “And technically I came with Rowena but I haven’t seen her for a while, we got separated.” He placed his hands into his pockets, looking at the faces around them as they spoke. “Anyone here you fancy though? I was hoping to go home with someone but at this rate I doubt that is going to happen.” || @fabianprcwett​

Fabian nodded his agreement, still trying to ward off his own general unease about the situation. How often did someone end up at St. Mungo’s in the middle of a party, really? And considering the general mindset of the hosts, it seemed almost too convenient that it was a person like Laurel. Still, there really wasn’t anything he could do about it, and perhaps that was the most frustrating part. “Rowena,” he repeated with a grin. “She’s sweet. Got an air of mystery about her too, eh?” He couldn’t help but crack the joke, considering they worked together at the Ministry, albeit in different departments. At the question about whether there was anyone here he fancied, his gaze automatically moved toward the last place he’d seen Walden, as if he’d still be there like some sort of statue. “Oh. Ah, no one practical,” he admitted. “Really more nostalgic than anything else.” At least that’s what he was telling himself.

Honestly there was only so much purist bullshit that Saoirse could put up with. It was a challenge not to deck half of them whenever she over heard them spewing unsavory comments about status; at this point she’d rolled her eyes so much it was a surprise that they weren’t permanently stuck to the back of her head. “Feckin’ arsholes with a broom stuck up their feckin’ arses-” The witch huffed under her breath as she’d managed to escape from the ball room for a much needed break from the aristocracy of the night. If she had to listen to another person go off about the MacMillan name and how her mother had brought it into the ground; Saoirse knew she’d loose her rag completely. 

She’d been searching for something, well anything really, that could offer a moment of peace. Well that was until she caught sight of a familiar red head who seemingly had the same idea as she. Sersh recognized him instantly as one of Marianne’s best friends, one of the Prewett brothers. And from the book in his hand, Sersh could only guess it was Fabian. “Ye alright fella, ye don’t have to go hidin’ it from me. I’d be outraged if you did.” The witch mused with a soft smile as she plopped herself down on the floor opposite him. “So- come on, share with the group, it any good? Should have brought me own feckin’ one and all, though me sister said I’d end up wackin’ someone over the head with it instead. Reckon she ain’t wrong about that.”

Fabian chuckled a little at her response, before pulling the book back out so she could take a look if she so chose. “I’ll admit, it’s not the most interesting material. Sort of brought my work with me,” he said with a sheepish expression. He did sometimes read for pleasure, but this didn’t happen to be one of those instances. “But if you’ve any interest in experimental charms, have at it.” When she mentioned using it to whack someone with, he was laughing again. Although professionally, he shouldn’t condone something that, most people wouldn’t assume that the book didn’t belong to her. Besides, if someone was getting whacked with it, they probably wouldn’t be paying too close of attention to what the title of the volume was. 

“And if you need to borrow it toward the end of the night for other purposes and want to plan a quick getaway afterward, well, my brother is Gideon.” That pretty much explained it all, even though a lot of times he ended up being the brain behind the finer details of their more elaborate schemes. Truth be told, it had been a minute since he’d done any true scheming, and he wasn’t against it when he overheard some of what his peers were saying. Especially since he couldn’t publicly react to it, for fear of unintentionally giving away Gideon. 

.

Edgar wasn’t really sure what to do with himself now. He was contemplating going home but he feared that tonight’s events weren’t over just yet. Laurel had been taken to St. Mungos but the ball continued like nothing had taken place. Something was afoot, Edgar just wasn’t sure what. “Fabian.” He greeted with a smile. “I’m alright. At least I’m still standing you know.” Edgar was proud to call Fabian his friend. At school the Prewett would always try and stand up for those around him and Edgar took a page out of his book. Whilst it was true that the twin was closer to Amelia, the two of them got on extremely well. 

“How are you doing? I’d ask if you were enjoying yourself but I assume nobody is after Laurel’s incident. Who are you here with?” || @fabianprcwett​

It didn’t sit right with Fabian, how many people were keen to just continue on with the ball after what had happened to Laurel. It really went to show how much the people running this event cared about flash over substance. It didn’t sit right with Fabian. Still, he rather doubted any updates about Laurel’s condition would be made public here at the event. He knew some people who might know, but he also didn’t want to pester anyone. 

“Right,” he agreed with a nod. “I’m sure they’ll take good care of her at St. Mungo’s.” It was the most he could do at the moment, simple well wishes. Ultimately frustrating. “Ah, I’ve been bouncing around. I didn’t officially ask anyone,” he admitted before easily bouncing the question back to him. “What about you?” 

—

“Oh Merlin…..” Alecto murmured, her face flushing a little as with his words she realised she had mixed the twins up. Of course she knew the Prewett brothers were twins. But she hadn’t realised just now. “You’d think as a twin myself I’d be able to tell you too apart” She mued with a little laugh. Of course, it helped that she was only a fraternal twin. There was no way she could be confused with Amycus. And she really would kill anyone who said they looked anyway near similar. She smiled at Fabian though. At least he didn’t seem too annoyed that she’d thought he was Gideon.

“Sorry about that….” She mused, with a little grin. She figured it must be something that he was used too, considering they were identical after all. “I luckily don’t have that problem.” Which, she was pretty grateful for. “How are you Fabian?”

"Don’t worry,” Fabian assured her with a light shrug of his shoulder. “Wouldn’t be the first time; won’t be the last.” It did make him wonder, though, if perhaps the frequent mix ups would potentially be useful in the grand scheme of Gideon’s role as a double agent. No one knew them better than they knew each other, after all, and adapting Gideon’s mannerisms wouldn’t be too difficult if the situation called for it. Perhaps something for the future... 

“I’m all right. Certainly better than poor Laurel. At this point, I’m sticking around more to see if we get any sort of update.” His brow furrowed in concern. They’d been talking at her establishment not long before the ball, and now this had happened. “And you?” he asked, quietly wondering what she would have to say on the topic.