a damsel who loves distress

Fabian hadn’t seen much of the Carrow twins at all since Gideon’s death. It was easy to blame that on his own isolation, but even at the Lestrange Anniversary Party he had managed not to see nor be seen by either twin. Fate had a funny way of getting back at him, to make sure he couldn’t avoid the people he very much didn’t want to interact with. Half of him would have preferred to be back in the window sill, watching Bellatrix strike down Peter and almost be next than to have to attempt any witty banter with Alecto Carrow, but alas. 

“I did say sorry,” He pointed out, dodging the hex narrowly in the tight quarters they were in. Really, he should take any apology back, if anything she might apologize to him for her brother’s loathsome behavior, “But I’m sure your ears are too full of garbage to really listen, yea?” He pointed a disarm at her but it bounced off the wall of the alley and nearly ricocheted back at him, making him mutter a “fuck” under his breath. 

“Look, just - get out of the way.” 

Alecto’s lips twitched at one of the most pathetic displays of magic she’d ever seen.  It was infantile, really, that when faced with a chance to prove their magical abilities, blood traitors always went for the softest spells that they could manage.  At the rate it was going, she could probably torture him for the better part of the evening and have him thank her.  Doing the least harm to your opponent wasn’t favourable when you were fighting for your life, and she certainly wasn’t going to let him leave that evening, not while there was a chance that he would seek revenge on her brother later.