MollyWobbles

Eckeltricity (xvi)

Make Merry Music.

A/N:

1. "Stand By Me" by Ben E. King (The tune Fabian is plucking out at first.)
2. "I want to hold your hand" by Vitamin String Quartet (**What Fabian plucks out second)

---------------------------------------------------------------

Part III: "Eckeltricity" (xvi)

Fabian

November 18, 1967

The shop bell chimed. "Oi," he called. "Make merry music."

The customer had bought a handful of rubbish albums not worth the vinyl they were printed on. With those ones, Fabian could only scratch his head and smile and nod.

Not everyone fancied a suggestion.

There was a shuffling near the front.

Someone must've come in as the other bloke left. Fabian lifted his head from his cello. "How can I—"

Olive shifted in the entry.

Right.

He returned his focus to the cello, tuning the next string. "Alright, Smith?" he asked.

"Yes," she said.

Silence.

Fabian plucked the string a bit. Again.

She had her hair tucked under a crocheted hat, and snow dusted her eyelashes.

"Reggie with you?" he asked, forcing the observations into the bin in the back of his head.

Another pause.

"No."

Fabian tightened the string. "You should tell him to stop by," he said. "I miss that git."

There was a long breath.

"That whole thing didn't really—" Olive was twisting her hands back and forth. "—it didn't really work out."

Fabian's head snapped up. Then he wrenched it right back down.

"Sorry to hear that," he said.

Salazar. Where was Gid?

He wouldn't make this odd for her, and it would be less odd if Gid was here.

His hands went slick.

Olive snorted. "It was over by the end of June," she said. "I don't know what we were thinking."

When he glanced up again, she was grimacing. "It was like trying to snog my brother."

"Ouch," Fabian said. "Wouldn't wish that on my worst enemy."

Olive made a nervous sounding laugh. "Exactly."

Fabian laid his cello bow on the counter, beside the till and eyed her.

"How were your hols?" Olive asked quietly.

Fabian smiled grimly.

"Besides—that," she said, faltering.

She'd heard, then.

Everyone had heard.

Fabian's one conciliation was that Smith's family had been visiting her grandparents up north when it had all gone to pot.

Merlin knew what kind of danger she'd have been thrown into, had she been in that crowd.

"Fabian?" she prompted.

He blinked. Then shrugged. "Absolute rubbish," he answered.

Olive slumped.

He began to pluck out a tune on the cello, not really thinking about it. Just something familiar to keep his hands busy.

"And you're working here, now," she said.

Fabian nodded, watching the strings.

"And at the castle," she said slowly. "Though I haven't seen you."

Yes, well, he'd made sure of that.

He'd been worried about happening upon her and Dearborn, tucked away in some corner. There were some things a man couldn't burn from his mind after witnessing, and Olive attached to another bloke's face was one of them.

Now, though—

No. Now, nothing.

Fabian shrugged. "It's been a rough couple of months. Busy, too." He took a deep breath. "How've you been?" he asked, sneaking a glance.

Olive leaned against the counter, launching into a detailed description of each new member of Gryffindor's team. The drills they were running. The prospects for the coming season. Her worries about being captain.

Fabian plucked at those soft strings, listening along with rapt attention. He asked loads of questions. Partly because it was fascinating. Partly because her eyes were bright and excited, and his summer had been a long slog of grim, heavy weight.

So, yes. Fabian savored the sight of her, prattling in Dominic Maestro's music shop, waving her hands around as she explained a new Chaser configuration.

He couldn't stop himself.

Like an idiot kiddie, burning his hand on a biscuit tray fresh from the oven, only to reach back for it again.

Olive yelled in laughter at her own joke. Fabian smiled.

Some birds were worth burning for.