It was killing Dedalus to see Pippa hurting so much. He wanted nothing more than to be able to take the pain away, to find the magical answer that would help her understand - but he knew he could not do that, nor would there ever really be a solid answer that he could give her that would explain it all, especially not when he didn't even understand it himself. The fact that he had no answer, for pretty much the first time in his life, frustrated him beyond belief. All his years in the Department of Mysteries, seeking the answers to life's greatest mysteries and he had nothing for her.
Pippa was such a sweet, caring person. She always had been - he could see that the first time he'd met her when she'd wandered into his parents' shop going on four years ago. He had grown to think of her as being exactly like the daughter he'd hoped to have some day - though he would never overstep boundaries and try to take the place of her father or stepfather.
His eyebrows knitted together further in concern when she claimed she shouldn't be so attached. She was right - he hadn't been able to tell her why. Dedalus had been just about to ask her what the rest of her sentence was when she changed gears and started talking about Charity. "She was a wonderful woman - I remember her from school," he offered. He placed his hand back on her shoulder, squeezing his eyes closed for a moment as he wished he had the answer for her on this matter, too. He'd spoken freely with Septima about the past and how things had been, how it looked like they were turning that way again. But he couldn't tell Pippa this, not now. "They'll let us know when they have more information, Pippa. Death doesn't always visit the ill or the elderly. It unfortunately doesn't discriminate, nor make any bit of logical sense at times."
His heart broke again when she looked up at him. He had spoken to Hestia of fairness yesterday and while he knew life wasn't fair, this particular instance made him angry about how cruel it could be, as he somewhat helplessly watched her fall apart. Not when I have you echoed in his head, the words confirming what he'd known in his heart - that she saw him as somewhat of a father figure in her life. Fathers were supposed to be able to take the pain away - yet he was failing miserably, he felt. He swallowed hard, clenching and unclenching his jaw as he fought off his own desire to cry. She needed him - he had to be strong for her - and he had no right to cry at the moment.
Wordlessly, he scooted a bit closer and wrapped his arms tightly around her. He would hold her and let her cry as long as she needed to. "I'm here for you, Pippa...always - for however long you need me to be. And I cannot tell you how badly I wish I could take all of it away." With a sigh, his voice dropped to a whisper. "I wish I could tell you why...but even I don't understand it. And I am so sorry."