Who: Harry Potter & Fabian Prewett What: Fabian got to punch a demon, and wants to meet the guy that punched Voldie. Where: The rode between the cave and the village. When: Sunday afternoon, on the way back from Demon-Slaying.
Fabian was on a horse. Let's take a moment to acknowledge that, forsake the understanding of what the hell they just fought or where exactly everyone was. The horse is ridiculous enough. Fabian had ridden many things in his thirty-three years, but a horse was no where near that list. They were large, unruly things that ate hands along with their handler's apples. He did not even trust the one he was riding- a great roan that was picked more for his ability to carry the six-plus tall man without his legs dragging than for it's kindness towards strangers. Every few yards it would bellow, or pretend to buck, and Fabian would curse out loud again - Merlin's lacy panties had never seen so much action until now.
It wasn't just his inability to ride of course, that was making him so sour. The demon... mutant thing had given them all a hell of a run for their money, and with every step the animal below him took his ribs rattled under his shirt, and his tongue tasted the blood from either his lip or nose... he wasn't even very sure any more. Fabian needed a distraction, and figuring out who this 'Harry Potter' leader of theirs was, might just be a good start. Harry-Not-James was younger than Fabian by several years, but he had heard several people mention him already - some of them even in a reverent manner. This was the kid who defeated He-Who-Must_Not-Be-Named, twice, if stories were to be believed. Fabian had been fighting that man for nearly a decade, and this kid did it before graduating seventh year. It was impressive, and enough for him to follow Potter to an unknown battle and back.
But now he wanted a face, he wanted a chance to see if his shit really did not stink, and it was all worth it. Nudging the horse into a trot, he caught up to the head of the procession and leaned over once close enough - extending his hand along with a lopsided grin. "I hear you're the man in to meet in this town, aye?" Charm he had, but deference Fabian had lost far too long back to even pretend otherwise.