Two days wasn't that long at all in the scheme of things, but to Dominic it felt like two years. Though the house was fuller than it normally was with the addition of the Stebbins boy, it felt so empty and cold that part of him wondered if it was the same home he had left just before his birthday gala. And that was the irony of the entire thing, that it had been on the tail end of his birthday festivities that his daughter was taken, as though Rodolphus Lestrange was giving him his own sort of twisted present.

He scowled at the wall, taking another swig of the amber colored liquid. He was careful to not drink in excess to the point of being drunk, because he knew that that wouldn't help Hannah, but he drank just enough to dull things, so that it didn't feel quite so unbearable.

He didn't hear Hestia come in, or even notice her until she kissed the top of his head, so perhaps, he decided, it was time to stop. He sat his glass down and turned the chair to hug her tightly. At least he still had her, but when one half of your very soul was ripped away and someone tried to console you that the other half was still there, it was very small consolation indeed.

"It doesn't help much, if it makes you feel any better."