Thicker than Water (Marauders Era) PART II

15 July, 1996 - Leaving (III)

By the following week, Ethan was in the final stages of preparing to leave. He had put in his sabbatical request, which had been approved, to the university he worked at and had started to pack. For Lavinia, who made a point to visit as often as she could in those days as he was preparing to leave, it was like watching little bits of a familiar painting being chipped away.

The blankets disappeared from the couch. His recipe books vanished from their shelves. And several of the photographs from around the rooms, too precious to be left behind, were tucked away into boxes. It was a slow stripping bare until the only bit of the apartment that still really felt like Ethan's was the bedroom, where the hundreds of cut out quotes still lined the walls, a silent, tangible promise that he was going to come back.

If, that was, they could manage to win the war.

It was a chilling prospect, and one Lavinia tried to avoid contemplating, though admittedly not entirely successfully. But then again, it was far from the only thing on Lavinia's mind. And far from the only depressing thought that managed to slink into her consciousness. Because at the prospect of Ethan's leaving, Lavinia's loneliness got worse. Now it wasn't just the house that felt empty, it was the whole town. Even the hills she'd sought out for their solace now seemed to echo with his looming departure.

And true, Lavinia knew it was for the best. She knew she'd done the right thing by telling him to leave. She knew and yet... it didn't make it feel any better.

It was even worse when she went to Kama and Miriam's to suggest the same to them and found their suitcases stacked by the front door and a nervous Kama telling her that they'd thought maybe it was time to spend some time with her family in India and Miriam had taken a year leave from the hospital. Lavinia wasn't sure a year would be enough, but then, it was better than nothing. Especially since Miriam and Kama were bound to both be targets given that Kama was a muggle and Miriam had married her. That plus their value as healers and their proximity to order members... it really was too dangerous.

So Lavinia hadn't argued with the conclusion they'd come to and she spent one last, lovely evening chatting with her friends and drinking a bottle of wine Kama said she'd been saving for a special occasion.

It didn't feel like a special occasion, but Lavinia didn't care. She knew which way the wind was blowing and she wasn't going to let her friends get caught in the storm she knew was only going to get worse.

And as much as it hurt to watch them packing and preparing to go, Lavinia knew it would hurt more if they were attacked. If they died. Because she would know she could have done more. She would know she might have saved them if only she'd convinced them to go. And with Sirius's death still so fresh, Lavinia never went long without a reminder of just how awful the grief and guilt could be.

Her only consolation was that around the time Ethan was preparing to depart for his sister's in New Zealand, Remus started spending more time at home. Lavinia tried not to be too relieved about this because she knew it was selfish of her. She knew Remus had benefited greatly from spending so much time with Tonks. But she also knew that with the empty house and the empty hills and the soon to be empty apartment that she had so often visited late at night for a brownie and some wholesome show or another, she needed company. She needed to know someone was there because she could feel the aching in her heart and replaying her goodbyes was bound to be a bittersweet balm.

On the day Ethan was to leave for the airport to board a plane to New Zealand, Lavinia went to his apartment to help him pack the last of his things. She would have accompanied him to the airport herself, but she didn't have the foggiest clue how airports worked and taking a taxi both ways because she couldn't explain to the driver that she could get back to her place without a car at all felt like an invitation for a more drawn out and sorrowful goodbye than was necessary.