Entry tags:

! log, 1998-march, x-character: fabian prewett, x-character: gwenog jones

WHO: Fabian Prewett & Gwenog Jones
WHAT: A date…?
WHEN: Sunday, March 8
WHERE: A field in Ottery St Catchpole
RATING: Super cute.
STATUS: Closed, complete

A date. With Fabian Prewett. Just after she’d had a coffee date thing with Peter Pettigrew. Apparently, Gwenog Jones had a thing for war criminals. Ex cons and the like. Though, to be fair, she wasn’t sure either thing was even a date, seeing as the men did not make anything specifically clear. It left Gwenog’s head spinning. She should just go back to simpler times when she wanted nothing more than to snog Bina in the bathrooms on lunch breaks and that was that. But she did want something more, and suddenly after such a dry spell with men, there were two vying for her attention. What in Merlin’s name was going on?

Gwen dressed nicely enough for the date, of course, but it was cold out and she had to dress warmly. Picnic, flying, all of that meant outside and outside meant chilly so she layered up nicely and got a nice scarf to go along with everything else, and then did her hair and make-up. She wasn’t normally one to do a lot with her face or hair, but she decided to do it nicely today and put on a bit of lipstick even. She thought she looked quite nice, and was just re-touching her lipstick when she heard the knock at her front door.

“Coming!” She called. It was a bit of stairs that you had to use from around back of a shop, but it was a nice enough walkway. “I’m ready to get going, brooms and all, unless you want to come in for a peek and see my new place?” She was quite proud of it, it was a lovely little flat over a storefront, modern enough with old touches to be just nostalgic enough to feel very homey.

Fabian had spent the better part of Saturday in custody and come home to find his flat turned upside down. He was short of sleep, the picnic basket he'd meant to prepare yesterday had been thrown together at the last minute, and he'd had a bit of trouble finding his broom. But he was properly dressed, if casually enough for sport, he did have everything he'd planned to bring, and he'd made it roughly on time. And Merlin, did he need to get out of his head right now. "Yeah, I'd love to take a look round, thanks."

His expression was pleasant and his demeanour as normal as he could make it as he offered Gwen a friendly half-hug. Human contact: that was good. A quick glance showed she'd already unpacked everything. "How long have you been in? I remember it taking me ages to get rid of the boxes every time I moved."

She gave him a hug back, or well, as much as she could from the little half-hug he had given her. He did look tired, but he also looked pretty much as he always did - which was a plus for Gwen. Fabian was an attractive fellow, she’d always known that. It had never once escaped her mind that he was incredible looking, even disheveled and running on no sleep like the night of her party. She shut the door behind him and waved her hand. It was a small flat, so that’s all it sort of needed as a way of showing around.

“Oh, just a couple of days. I never really got a lot of stuff to pack and unpack, I was always travelling or busy training.” She hardly even had a wardrobe to unpack, not until she had started working this last year anyway. “This is the kitchen and sitting room, and then up those stairs is the loft which is just a fancy way of saying its my bedroom, and there’s a window out there that I can fly right out of.” It had access to the roof and everything, it was bloody brilliant.

“Now, before we get going you promised I could have a proper look at your broom to see if it was fit for flying. Hand it over then, Fabian. It’s the moment of truth.” She grinned at him, clearly teasing just a little bit as she held her hand out, waiting for the broom to inspect.

Fabian set down the picnic hamper on the kitchen counter, such as it was, and handed her the broom. "I'm afraid I didn't get a chance to trim it yesterday as I planned. I was--" he found himself falling back into lawyerese "--unavoidably detained." No. That wasn't it. He'd done nothing wrong and there was nothing to be ashamed of. "The Ministry sent an Auror round to my flat to bring me in and interrogate me at the crack of dawn Saturday. They can hold you for up to twenty-four hours without arresting you. I was released late last night. The hits went over my flat and everything in it as well, so I had a bit of a time getting things together this morning. I apologise in advance; I may not be the best company today."

Gwen just about wanted to Owl Rhett and Bina both and shake them for it. When she heard what happened to him, she looked angry and shook her head. “That’s a bunch of bullshit.” She said, frowning. “I can’t believe they just up and took you in and held you like that. Without any proof of anything. And searched your flat!” She couldn’t imagine having her privacy invaded like that, despite how public a life she had already lead, how little privacy she had had for many many years. “Are you sure you want to still go today, I mean, I don’t want to cancel on you but I understand if you’re too tired…” Except the look on her face was pretty clear - she did not want to cancel this date.

The broom was set down on the counter after he had handed it over and she had sort of tiraded all over the place, and she inspected it. It did need a bit of a trim, a polish, it seemed a bit weary. “Why don’t you leave this one here for me to fix up properly later, and if you still want to go today, you use one of my brooms?” Because she wasn’t sure this one was just quite right enough to fly safely. Not the way she flew, anyway.

"No, I'd like to go. I'd like to get out. Forget about yesterday. Fresh air and whatever sunlight we can get. Just--if I seem a bit off, it's not you at all." Fabian's smile was faint, but definite. "And one of your brooms would be brilliant. I really did mean to get after mine. Just--" he shrugged, because what else could he say? "Fortunately there was enough food in the house to make our lunch anyhow. I did the shopping Friday." The subject of how relatively kind the hits had been, following Tonks' lead, was not on the table, Fabian thought. Given the look on Gwen's face, the truth of how the DMLE treated ex-cons was off-limits, at least for the moment.

He definitely still wanted to go, which raised her spirits a bit. Maybe this was a date, then? Gwenog should just ask - but it seemed a bit early to call it much of anything. She’d have to wait and see. “Alright, we’ll go then. I’m sure I can take your mind off it.” She teased a little, and then walked to the closet where she had stored her brooms, taking hers - not the newest, but close to the newest broom that was given out to the Holyhead Harpies just barely a year ago, and the model just prior to that. She handed him the latter, and then pointed to the staircase. “What d’you say, then? Want to fly our way there, or - well, if we go somewhere near Devon, or Ottery St. Catchpole I suppose we can apparate first to be safe and then fly?”

Fabian had to think about it for a moment before he decided, "Apparating's fine. I know the way to Ottery St. Catchpole if you'd rather fly. My sister lives out there with her husband." The broom was impressive, and had a much higher flight speed than Fabian's, but Fabian still reckoned it would take them more than an hour to get out to Devon. Possibly longer depending on how flight-safe he was. "It'll be a long time until lunch if we fly out, though. I'll pop us out and then we'll eat and fly after that. Unless you're like my sister and think we have to wait half an hour after lunch before we fly." The last was said with a sly grin and a clear expectation of an answer in the negative.

“Oh well that’s a load of crap, innit? I fly while eating, if I feel like it.” She grinned, and made sure to grab her coat before she went to the door and locked it up tight. Everything else was locked and warded and all the things to keep people out, if she didn’t want them to come in. She was still a bit nervous about living in what used to be Knockturn Alley, but she was sure it was safe. Peter had reassured her of that. “Alright, well, up the stairs we go onto the roof. Can’t apparate in and out of here, and the roof is nicer than the alleyway.” She went ahead and walked up the stairs, and made her way through the doorway onto the roof area. Once it was closed, they’d be free to apparate, and she slipped her arm through his. “Ready when you are.”

Girl, her broom, basket, broom, self. Deliberation, Destination, Determination.

A moment on the roof, a stomach-turning twist of space, and then they were in Ottery St Catchpole. There was a field not far from the Burrow that Fabian thought would do for picnicking, so he landed them there, on the far side of a hill from the Muggle side of the village. Plenty of flat space for the blanket in the hamper and for takeoffs and landings later. He set their dinner down on the grass and opened it. "Let's have lunch. I'm starved."

Inside the basket were some hearty roast beef sandwiches, cheese, bread and pickle for a ploughman's style lunch. There was also a bottle of white wine with two glasses in a case; they had clearly been charmed to unbreakability in case the hamper were jostled, as had the plates Fabian set out for them on the blanket. "Meant to boil eggs last night as well," he told Gwen. "That was the part I missed."

Apparating was something Gwen was quite used to, but not something she enjoyed all that much. It was necessary, but the brief moment of feeling as if you were being squeezed very tightly and then sucked through space was altogether unpleasant. She would fly everywhere, if she could.

Once they were in Ottery St. Catchpole, she saw the field that lay before them, flowers starting to try and bloom as winter was finally dying out and turning to spring. “Let’s eat, then. I’m certainly hungry myself.” She had had breakfast earlier that morning, but had only had a tiny snack before Fabian came to make sure she was still hungry for their picnic. But you know, not ravenously so. She did want to attempt to look like a proper lady, didn’t she?

Sitting down near him, she watched as he pulled the whole feast out of the basket, and smiled brightly. “Eggs, well, I never did care for them all that much.” She was kidding, of course, but she wanted him to know that she didn’t care if there were eggs or not. She mostly just wanted to be around Fabian. She still couldn’t believe they were here. “This all looks delicious, Fabian. Thank you.”

"You're quite welcome. I haven't done this--" Fabian gestured at the picnic spread "--in a while. Coming out to fly seemed like a good chance to get back into practice." The bit of wind and the scent of the grass were their own kind of magic. Fabian had been worried that he wouldn't be able to eat after his stint in holding, but he was suddenly starved, as his body remembered he'd had nothing significant to eat since dinner on Friday.

Slicing off several hunks of cheese, he passed some to Gwenog on the pronged end of the cheese knife. "I keep wanting to ask you about quidditch--not the celebrity end of it and all, but the game, what it's like to play at the pro level--but I can't decide whether that's something you'd like to talk about or not. If it is, I'd be quite interested in hearing about it."

Done this. What is this? She would have asked him right then and there, but then he brought up Quidditch. She took the cheese off the end of the knife and took a bite of it, mulling the question over in her mind, along with a way to appropriately ask if this was a date or not. She remained quiet for several short moments before replying. “Well, sometimes its difficult to talk about it, but I would like to share it with you. But, only if you answer a question for me first.”

That seemed like a good enough segue. She held the cheese in her hand, waiting for a moment, eyeing him just slightly. He seemed like he was having a good time already, he was making conversation. They were in a field having a picnic. This screamed date. She couldn’t be wrong, could she?

Fabian looked up from the cheese he was slicing off for himself, his eyebrows arched, to meet Gwen's gaze. "There are some questions I can't answer, and a few others I won't, and a few others I'll defer until after we've eaten if I think the answer merits it. But in general, I'm happy to answer questions." He started to make a crack about how many he'd answered in the last day and a half and discarded it as a bad idea. "So ask away."

“Well, hopefully this one isn’t any of those things.” Gwenog smiled, looking shyly down at the picnic blanket for a moment. She wasn’t normally a shy sort of person, but she had her moments. She needed just a second to formulate her thoughts and then look back up at him. “Is this a date, Fabian?” She asked, waving her hand around in much the same manner he had when he had referred to what they were doing as this just moments ago. “Did you ask me out on a date?”

Fabian's brow furrowed slightly as he pondered the question for a moment. "I'd say this is two people who enjoyed each other's company in a group and were attracted to each other--I mean, I hope you are--exploring what it's like to spend time together without other people. So, yeah, I'd call that a date. A casual one, though, no pressure intended. If we enjoy it, we can do it again. If not, we can be friends with no hard feelings."

He was attracted to her. Fabian Prewett thought Gwenog Jones was attractive. She’d have to tell Bina all about that, and couldn’t hide the grin that formed on her face. She had more than once thought Fabian to be a rather attractive man, but given their lack of overlapping social circles and slight age difference, she’d always been a bit shy on asking him around. Gwen was certainly glad she had said to hell with all that on her birthday and gotten him to come along. “Well then, a proper date it is with no expectations or pressure. I like that.” She replied, popping the last bit of cheese into her mouth with a smile. After another moment she added, “And don’t worry, I find you quite attractive.”

But there were other questions to answer, as she had promised, and after she took a sip of the wine that had been poured for them, she decided to answer. “Playing Quidditch at the professional level is very intense. It’s tiring, and draining, it takes up all your time so you’d better hope you don’t have a life or want one outside of Quidditch, it’s a bit dangerous, you’re always sore, but it’s the most exhilarating thing I could think of to do with my life, seeing as I’ve never been all that fantastic at magic.” Which wasn’t true - she was a very skilled witch, just not in the way you’d need to be an Auror, which was just about the only job she found not boring aside from playing Quidditch.

Well, at least he hadn't completely misread the situation. Fabian grinned back at her, but the expression faded a little as he listened to her talk about her quidditch career. There was a nod or two of recognition at the details. "I felt that way about the Auror Office once," he confessed between between bites of sandwiches. "Then you're out, and even if it's the right choice, you don't know what to do. Or at least I didn't. I can guess how you ended up in the Ministry with the connections you have, and I can imagine Minerva--Headmistress McGonagall--leapt at the chance to recruit you for the school. I've seen you play once, and I've long been a Harpies fan. You've got the gift for it. It's a shame you're not still on the pitch."

“Not anymore, I take it? Considering that’s not what you do now?” She took a bite of the sandwich, listening to him talk. It still pained her to hear about how great she was once, how she had a gift for it. She really did, she knew that. She had enough raw talent and natural ability that she was capable of fostering to become great. She had the dedication to do that, too. But it was all over now, and there was no going back. “It was pretty simple to find my way once I stopped wallowing, yeah. I wish I was still playing Quidditch, too. I just couldn’t get behind the way things were happening.” No one, aside from Hestia and Bina, really knew what happened. The public story was that she quit, the tabloids said there were hints at Gwenog losing her touch, suing for sexual harassment. But neither of those things were quite true, not wholly.

“And wardsmithing - is that something you find you enjoy a lot, or just something that pays the bills?” She asked, curious. Her job at the Department of Magical Games and Sports was helpful to pay the bills, since her position at Hogwarts did not require much time at all and therefore not quite a lot of pay, either. But she enjoyed teaching kids how to fly and refereeing Quidditch quite a bit more than anything else.

"I like taking things, taking spells, apart and putting them together. The intricacy of wards work appeals to me. I think Minerva hired me on because I was the person most likely to be able to understand the layers of protection on the school--me or Dedalus, who's my business partner--and I already had most of the skills before I went in." Fabian took another sip of wine. "I trained for Auror along with my brother, but I ended up leaving the program at the very end. This was in the early days of the war. I was shadowing in the field and I was involved in an accidental civilian death. I left the programme, took a few months to get my head clear, and apprenticed as a solicitor. I did that for a few years, got myself involved in a little vigilantism on the side, and ended up in Azkaban after my brother killed Greyback. When I was let out, I spent a while figuring out what to do, and decided wardsmithing was the best niche I could come up with given my existing skills and, honestly, how much money I wanted to make." The quirk at the corner of Fabian's mouth suggested he wasn't exactly proud of that practical admission, but it was true. "It also keeps me out and about, so I'm not stuck in an office or a shop all day. I enjoy that about it too."

She knew a bit about Fabian, but the whole story - or well, the abridged version of it anyway, was a lot more intense than she had thought it would be. She knew he’d spent time in Azkaban, but Gwenog had never learned much about what happened to each individual that went in and out. There were stories on it, of course, but she was woefully ignorant about these sorts of things. She had been either too young, or too busy with her own career to really pay attention to all the repercussions people had suffered. “That’s terrible. But I’m glad you found something you enjoy to occupy your time. I must admit, sitting in the office being a bloody secretary is downright painful some days. But at the same time, it was practical as well.” She had always been a sort of practical person, even being a professional Quidditch player had been practical, for her. Because she knew she had the skills, the desire, and the right mindset to be one. Not everyone who tried for it did.

"I was lucky. I had choices, even after Azkaban. I already owned my flat outright--I made good money as a solicitor and that was one of my luxuries--and there was some cash in my vault. I'm not sure the Ministry would have taken me in any capacity, though, and I never considered it." Fabian looked at Gwen, his expression thoughtful. "I'm sure in time you'll find a position that's more fitting and makes better use of your talents. You're too good to push other people's parchments all day." He realised he might be over the line, and added, "if you don't mind my saying so."

Gwenog blushed at what Fabian said, smiling a little as she took another sip of her wine. “I don’t mind you saying so at all.” Gwenog wasn’t the type to mind boundaries so much when it came to conversation. She knew when to back off a topic, but she was never one to question whether or not she should ask something for very long. “I know the higher ups in the Department do far more exciting things, but there just weren’t any other positions. Eventually I’d like to do something else, I just don’t know what. I spent a long time mourning the loss of my career without any direction.” And unlike Fabian, she hadn’t been quite as prepared. Hence why she had moved in the first place, her old flat was too expensive and out of the way to have even the argument of convenience to it. “And, if you don’t mind me asking - the vigilantism. I don’t want to know what you did so much as, why? I suppose that’s not… I guess I’m just interested in what it was like.” Gwen had never been in the position to do anything even remotely useful for anyone in terms of the War, either for being too young or for where she was at the time. But she wondered now, when things were getting more intense, if there was something she should or at least could be doing.

Fabian finished his glass of wine and poured himself another, refreshing Gwen as well, to buy himself time to phrase the answer to the question. "I think we each came to it for different reasons, and by different means. For me--I started out a little purist snot, not unlike some of the little darlings in Slytherin now. But when you get out into the real world, or even the section in the Auror Office, you find that talent and blood don't always align the way you've been told. Then when--when I killed that girl, trying to stop her attacker, I understood here--" Fabian pointed to his chest "--that it didn't matter what her bloodline was. She was human, she'd been alive, now she was dead.

"After that I questioned everything I'd been told about blood and power. And when--the opportunity arose, let us say? I was ready to act. Just because I couldn't be an Auror didn't mean I didn't want to fight against Death Eaters. As for what it was like: it was much the same as your description of quidditch. Intense, draining, keeps you busy so you don't have a life. Oh, and if anyone figures out what you're doing, they'll throw you in Azkaban. We didn't know that at the time, but now we do. That's part of why they did what they did yesterday. They took the lot of us, I think. To remind us they can if we get out of line."

She’d had no idea he had killed a civilian. That’s not precisely how he had phrased it when he first mentioned it. Of course, it wasn’t on purpose - at least she hoped not, and seeing as Gwenog had the tendency to see the good in people first, she assumed it wasn’t - but it had truly affected him. That was important, she thought, that he knew what he had done and it had changed his ideals. Gwen’s parents hadn’t been one way or another about purism, it wasn’t something they had ever talked about and so Gwenog’s opinions remained the same. It didn’t matter to her one way or the other. “I don’t think it’s fair that they do that, but I can see why they do.” She had plenty of Auror friends, she understood why flexing their power was necessary sometimes. It might also feel like there was nothing they could do at the moment. She knew Cambina was having trouble with everything going on, how depressed it was making her feel. “Just - as an aside, I suppose - I hope you know I would never betray your confidences to anyone, even if half my friends are Aurors.” She also wouldn’t complain to them about harassing Fabian, either, because that wasn’t her position, she had no right.

"I know." Not that anything Fabian had said to Gwen wasn't part of the public record, except maybe the bit about exactly what had driven home his change of heart. "And I appreciate it. I'll try not to vent about when the Auror Office does something generally annoying instead of specifically annoying to me. I still have friends there myself. You don't go into the job without all the good intentions in the world. The job makes you hard, though, or at least it does to some." His mind wandered to Gideon momentarily, and Gideon's words about Fabian not wanting Gideon to be that man again. It was a depressing thought, so Fabian turned his attention back to Gwen, deliberately. "There were people who didn't understand why I didn't come back after I was cleared. I guess I wasn't hard enough for that." Which was equally depressing, so Fabian turned the focus back to Gwen. "It doesn't bother you, being out on a date with a convicted criminal, then? A lot of women in your shoes would turn their noses up at a fellow like me."

“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with not being as hard as all that.” She responded, a little more quietly. She knew that Bina, for instance, wasn’t as hard and seasoned as some of the Aurors. Things still got to be too much for her. Gwenog knew she’d never be the kind of person who could just see the things Bina did, Fabian had, and just get over it, just move on. It would stay with her. She was far more sensitive than most people would allow themselves to be. “You can complain all you want, Merlin knows I have my irritations with them as well.” She didn’t always agree with everything they did. She certainly didn’t like the idea of them grabbing Fabian for no reason and holding him for twenty four hours. “You being a convicted criminal has nothing to do with me nor my thoughts about you. Pasts are pasts, and I don’t hold much stock in them.” She shrugged. “I know you’re different, I know you’re sweet and I can’t deny that I’ve fancied you for a while. What you did in your past is just what it is, not what you are.”

The corner of Fabian's mouth quirked up. "That's the kindest thing anyone's said about me in--a while, anyroad." There were grapes in the hamper still. He ought to get them out, along with the grape scissors. He ought to--bugger all that for a lark. Fabian leaned over and brushed his lips across Gwen's instead.

“I’m just being honest, is all.” She said, smiling back at him. She had dropped her eyes down, trying to calm herself from the blush that was still rising to her cheeks, when Fabian leaned forward and brushed his lips against hers. She was extremely surprised, but didn’t hesitate to kiss back. Despite not having expected it, she was certainly glad it had happened. After a moment, the kiss ended and she didn’t even bother hiding the smile and blush on her face.

Now Fabian sat back up, still smiling himself, and pulled the grapes out of the hamper, dividing them up with the scissors and setting a stem on Gwen's plate. This was where, under other circumstances, he might have said something about not being too forward, but Gwen's reaction made it clear Fabian's attentions had been welcome. "We can finish these off and I'll put things away. And then, if you like, you can put me through my paces." He tilted his head toward the brooms to make which set of paces he meant clear.

It was certainly not too forward. Maybe, if on her birthday he had tried something it would have been, but not here. Not now. She popped a grape into her mouth when it had been set on her plate, which was nearly clear of all the food that had been given her to begin with, and smirked at him when he mentioned putting him through his paces. And of course, the indication of which paces he meant. “I’ll try and go easy on you.” She said with a little laugh. “Given the state of your actual broom, I take it you don’t fly nearly as often as you should?”

Fabian bit his tongue on the joke about being the broom and not the rider that came to mind. "No. I don't think I've had it out this year, yet, honestly. It's mostly Apparition or the Floo to get out to jobs and there's not much flying time in the winter. Not unless you want to do it at night, which is safer in terms of secrecy but not so much in terms of flying." He made a face at the idea of flying in London in the dark, which seemed a good way to smash into the side of a low building.

“I suppose you’re right. I’ve definitely been out a few times this year, more than that, given the lessons and everything but I fly whenever I can.” She would be desperately depressed if she couldn’t fly at any given moment, it was her main mode of transportation. “I think we’ll be safe to fly today, though. I’ll catch you if you fall or something.” She grinned at him, popping the last grape into her mouth afterwards.

Fabian finished the last of his handful of grapes as well and sent all of the picnic accoutrements marching back into the hamper with his wand. "I'm ready to be schooled. And caught, if necessary." He stood up and offered Gwen a hand to help her to her feet as a courtesy.

She took his hand for the help up, and gathered up their brooms. It didn’t matter that hers was a bit faster, once they were in the sky it was clear she would outfly him even if she were on his old broom and he on hers. They mostly zoomed around, Gwenog flying circles around him until they were both just about tired out. He did well enough for someone who hadn’t flown in ages and she did her best not to be too much of a showoff. It was difficult though, because Gwenog had a tendency to just let go completely when she was flying. After what she hoped wasn’t too long of a time in the air, she signed at Fabian and then landed gently on the ground below them, just slightly out of breath. She held the broom at her side now, laughing a bit. “You kept up well.”

Fabian, on the other hand, was hard out of breath. Keeping up with Gwen had been quite the challenge to his rusty broom skills, which hadn't been that fantastic in the first place. There had been times he'd simply flown in a lazy circle while enjoying watching her manoeuvre over and around him. "You're too kind," he told Gwen, leaning a bit on the broom, not bothering to disguise how short-winded she'd left him. "I kept up miserably and you weren't trying. But it was about what I expected. I hope I was at least more fun to fly with than your ickle firsties."

She grinned, laughing a little at how out of breath he was. Not because he was out of breath, but because he was man enough to show it. It was nice. He didn’t care that she had totally wrecked him at flying - in fact, she could outfly nearly everyone, even now a years’ out of practice. And he was just okay with that. “You were definitely more fun to fly with than any first years I teach. First, because you can actually really fly, and second, because I only had to mildly worry about you falling off the broom and hurting yourself.” The latter portion was a joke, and she nudged him gently on the arm with hers before biting her lip a little and looking to the ground for a moment.

“This has really been an amazing date.”

Fabian had cracked a grin at the nudge and joke, because he'd earned that. Then Gwen was giving that shy look, and Fabian had been around the block enough to know that that was his cue. "That's no surprise, because you're an amazing woman, Gwen." He finished doffing his flying glove, reached to tilt her chin up, and kissed her again.

It was nice to date someone who knew what they were doing. She had been torn between dating older men and younger men, there didn’t seem to be any available around her age, and with all that in-between, it was nice that Fabian was confident and went for what he wanted. She was much the same way and didn’t usually need someone to make the first move for her, but it was nice when it happened. She kissed him back and then smiled at him, taking his hand. “We’ll have to see about doing this again sometime. Maybe without the flying, though? I mean, unless you want to end up breathless every time we go out.” Double entendre, and yes she knew she’d made it.

He hadn't thought about Azkaban or holding or anything of the sort since they'd set foot in Devon, Fabian realized. He was still smiling, too, a lazy grin that heard that double-entendre and raised it. "I think I'd like that."

“Well then, I’ll see what I can do.” She grinned at him, brow raised a bit playfully before she walked back towards the picnic blanket, still holding his hand and bringing him along with her. “A bit more wine before we go?”

More than willing to be brought along, Fabian nodded. "I think I'd like that too."