Strong as a Lion, Swift as a Snake || Octavius, Augustus, Fabian, and Phoebe

         “I’m bored.”

         It was the thirty-seventh time that night that Phoebe had made that proclamation (not that Fabian was keeping count, of course), and the determined repetition was slowly driving him out of his mind. Which was, of course, Phoebe’s plan. She knew full well that if she annoyed him with her whining for long enough, he would intervene, if only to shut her up.

         Flat on her back with her head dangling off the edge of the sofa, Phoebe opened her mouth wide. “I’m so, so, so bo – ”

         Now that was it. Thirty-seven times, Fabian could tolerate. Thirty-eight times, it turned out, was absolutely unacceptable. Springing to his feet, Fabian reached down to wrap an arm around his sister’s waist.

         “All right, little one,” he grumbled, hauling her into an upright position. “You win. Come on, let’s get you out of here before you burn the common room to the ground.”

         The smile that Phoebe fixed her elder brother with was brighter than the sun.


         Five minutes later, after having surreptitiously slipped out of the portrait hole when the house prefect was busy chastising a first year, the siblings were walking together down an abandoned hall, and Phoebe had resumed her complaints.

         “I thought this was supposed to be fun, big brother. I thought you knew how to have a good time, but this?” She scoffed. Phoebe was very good at making her displeasure known. “I might as well be sitting in History of Magic for as much as I’m enjoying myself right now.”

         “Patience, Phee,” Fabian said, clicking his tongue. “You’ve got to learn to be patient. You’d miss the World Cup because you can’t be arsed to wait in line for tickets.”

         Phoebe’s only response to that was to pull a face and make a loud raspberry, but it did shut her up. For the moment, at least.

         The pair walked in silence for a moment. Well, in as close to silence as the Prewett siblings ever came. Phoebe may have been repeatedly poking her brother in the arm with the tips of her fingers while making little ‘Pew pew!’ noises, but no matter. It was close enough.

         After another few moments, after which point Phoebe had grown bored of her previous activity and was now spinning in small circles as they walked along. How she managed to keep it up without getting incredibly dizzy, Fabian had no idea. 

         Just as he could sense his sister reaching the end of her ability to amuse herself, a noise carried down the hall. Voices. Hostile voices. Too faint to make out the words, but the intention behind them was clear.

         Fabian and Phoebe had seen enough trouble in their time that they instantly recognised the sounds of a good fight.

         Phoebe raised an eyebrow. “Now that,” she said, a grin stretching across her face, “Sounds like fun. Care to investigate, Mr Prewett?”


         Fabian grinned right back at her. “Why, that sounds like a most excellent plan, Miss Prewett. After you, my dear.”