![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
TITLE: Heavy Heart
FANDOM: Harry Potter
AUTHOR:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
lar_laughs
CHARACTER: Fabian Prewett
PROMPT: the bitterest tears for the As Summer Ends Challenge at![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
first_order - Week 5
RATING: PG-13
WORD COUNT: 150
WARNINGS: Mention of death
DISCLAIMER: I do not own any part of, nor do I make any money from the Harry Potter franchise. I merely dabble in the shadows of the world of JK Rowling created.
Fabian was tired of tears. He had yet to shed any but they clogged up his throat at the most inopportune moments. It wasn’t that he was being manly. Gideon was the manliest of men and he’d seen him cry any number of times over the last year while he had sat in stony silence.
Now Marlene was dead. She’d been laughing with him yesterday, mocking him for the purple robes he’d bought. Such a frivilous purchase in times of war. But life must go on, she’d gently reminded him before she walked off. He wanted to cry for her now. It seemed right and proper to see his friend off with a wave of misery and loss. Try as he might, none would fall. Nothing made him feel more like a failure than not being able to mourn openly. The bitterest tears were the ones that couldn’t be shed.
FANDOM: Harry Potter
AUTHOR:
lar_laughsCHARACTER: Fabian Prewett
PROMPT: the bitterest tears for the As Summer Ends Challenge at
first_order - Week 5RATING: PG-13
WORD COUNT: 150
WARNINGS: Mention of death
DISCLAIMER: I do not own any part of, nor do I make any money from the Harry Potter franchise. I merely dabble in the shadows of the world of JK Rowling created.
Fabian was tired of tears. He had yet to shed any but they clogged up his throat at the most inopportune moments. It wasn’t that he was being manly. Gideon was the manliest of men and he’d seen him cry any number of times over the last year while he had sat in stony silence.
Now Marlene was dead. She’d been laughing with him yesterday, mocking him for the purple robes he’d bought. Such a frivilous purchase in times of war. But life must go on, she’d gently reminded him before she walked off. He wanted to cry for her now. It seemed right and proper to see his friend off with a wave of misery and loss. Try as he might, none would fall. Nothing made him feel more like a failure than not being able to mourn openly. The bitterest tears were the ones that couldn’t be shed.
