Hestia had been pacing, because that is what Hestia did when she was nervous. She was going through the scenario that led her there over and over again. She left the Order meeting when Moody finally grumbled his way passed the newest plans. She left Grimmauld place precisely 13 minutes after Kingsley, so that they wouldn’t all be seen at the same time, and then apparated to her home. Except she never made it back to her home to see her fifteen year old daughter. No, she found herself standing in the middle of a garden with a book at her feet. She opened it to the words on the page talking to each other, and after a few moments she gave in and added her own.
She was trying to keep her wits about her, her head up and surveying the area. She turned on a heel and spotted Fabian before he came too much closer. Hestia had her wand out, clutching it carefully at her side, and she marched towards him. She knew she should question his existence, she should ask him another question to verify he was who he said he was (as impossible as that seemed because who he was was dead), but she found himself frowning deeply, tears already falling from her eyes at the sight of him.
She couldn’t keep her composure anymore, and her slow march towards the man quickened until she was practically on top of him. His nose was broken, she could see that immediately, but otherwise he was exactly like how she’d last seen him the morning before he died.
“Ian… your nose.” She said softly, her right hand cupping her cheek as she cast episkey with her left, causing his nose to set and numb the pain a bit. Once she inspected the handy work of her healing charm, she sighed a bit and examined him one last time before clinging to him, hugging him with everything she had, tears rolling down her face falling on Fabians shoulder leaving a large wet spot on his shirt.