Dunstan and Pansy
Her hand on his shoulder brought him back to himself. More than he'd been in days. It reminded him of another life, outside this place of sharp angles and shadows and fear. Shame and guilt washed over him. Not guilt for any wrongdoing, but for the position he was in now, merely guilt by association. Being born the son of a Death Eater. Guilt for even having Pansy in his room. Some place she need not ever be.
He turned his head, brushing the stubble of his whiskers across her fingers in the barest hint of a caress. "Thank you. I don't know what I would have done if they'd taken her. At least she is with you." Which spoke volumes about his trust in her.
Bastian closed his eyes when her delicate hand squeezed his shoulder. He memorized every nuance of her touch, knowing he would need it in the coming days. "Don't ask about me," he answered harshly, not wanting her pity. "I need to tell you something. If anything should happen to me," Bastian paused, looking around to make sure they had privacy. He lowered his voice to a whisper. "My vault is one thousand fifty-six. The key is in the beak of the stuffed bird Simone carries. If anything happens to me, just make sure she's safe. Send her away if you have to. There is more than enough for you and the girls." It didn't surprise him that he suddenly felt an overwhelming need to protect not only his own child, but hers as well. He was a man of desperation.