franklcngbcttcm:
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He’s always amazed, the way that Alice pulls her charm, her grace, her very aura from thin air; it’s not even magic, as so many have often attributed it to, no spellbinding and no witchcraft here. It’s simply in her very presence, and when his eyes meet hers, it’s a sudden tidal wave of calm that he knows cannot only be attributed to seeing that she and Neville - their son, their son - are alive and well. Frank has never been particularly faithful in anything; Muggles may worship a God on high, others may curse or praise the hands of fate. But the fact that she’s standing, that they all three of them are standing to see another day after all that’s happened… well, it might make an honest man of him yet.
It might. He likes to think it will.
(He knows that it won’t.)
He comes to a stop in front of her, and just being in her presence is a balm and he wants more - wants to feel her heartbeat against his, wants to breathe in the scent of her hair as he’d remembered it so long ago but can still recall as if it were yesterday. He wants to show that he cares, but he doesn’t know how. Frank Longbottom wants, and that in itself is not a surprise - it’s wanting what he cannot have, knowing that it’s his own damn fault, that’s new. He swallows the lump in his throat and nods, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. “I did,” he confirms, uncertain of just how much to reveal, the circumstances of why he’d been there in the first place. Another ill-advised tryst, an itch to scratch with someone who couldn’t give a damn either way. Simplistic and base, something that twisted into a night of horror. He settles for another lie, another sin to an ever-growing list against the one person he’d sworn to himself that he’d stop lying to. “She’d left the gala early, asked me to come see her for business with the Death Eaters. Her message to me might have been the last message she’d sent before she…” It’s hard for him to say the words, and he dances around the harsh reality. “Still, it was better that I found her, and not Andromeda.” And that, he fully believes. No one should have to see that.
At the mention of Greengrass, he stills. Frank listens to her words with rapt attention, his heartbeat rushing like the roar of a waterfall in his ears. “You’re…” He struggles to find the right word, to place how overjoyed he is to hear how she’d fought, how proud he is of her magical prowess, how ashamed he is that he wasn’t there while Greengrass was. “… incredible, Alice.” If his eyes had been glassy before, then they’re positively swimming with unshed tears now. He looks upon them both, at the way that Neville fidgets in her arms and he feels a single hot streak run its way down his face, which he wipes away with haste. Frank nods at her suggestion that they take their conversation inside, following her into her home. “How did it happen?” There’s a tightness to his voice, a note of dismay. It wasn’t supposed to happen here, he thinks. They weren’t supposed to be here. “Were you injured at all in the aftermath? St. Mungo’s has been in disarray, last I’ve heard. More sick and injured than the Mediwizards can handle…”
At the mention of death eaters, Alice covers Neville’s ear quickly. However young he may be, however little he’d remember and actually pick up from the conversation; she didn’t want him hearing it. Nothing. Nothing to do with either side. She was as strict about it with the Order or Rising or whatever it was nowadays. Confused, curious, but not perturbed, Neville cast his gaze to his mother. She looked concerned which meant he was. Alice usually was successful in monitoring her emotions around her son as it seemed he was incredibly empathic. Especially with her. And Neville didn’t need the weight of any world on him. Alice inhaled sharply. “Bunny, I’m-- Frank, I’m sorry,” she told him, earnestly. “I can’t imagine, I--” she’s struck with the fact that she doesn’t actually know what to say. As close or as alienated their dynamic was, finding someone you knew, someone who may have any kind of semblance of importance or impact on your life, was awful. Horrific. Unimaginable. She found herself nodding her head. Yes. Finding a sister might’ve been... fracturing.
A bark of surprised and disbelieved laughter pushed past her lips. She wasn’t sure what she’d been expecting as a reaction from Frank but calling her incredible, hadn’t been it. It took her a moment to let the shock pass; the laugh dying on her lips as quickly as it started. “I’m sorry, I---” she paused, trying to find an explanation. “Hadn’t been expecting that,” she admitted. “Thank you,” she added also, out of politeness. Alice moved past Frank towards her front door, sliding her wand from her coat pocket and tapping it on the key hole. The door swung open and she stepped inside, turning to wait for Frank to follow. Once he was inside, she closed the door behind him. The lights came on as she moved into the sitting room. She put Neville on his play mat, giving him his favourite toy at the moment which was a bunch of useless keys that he loved to rattle and use to ‘unlock’ things. “Would you like a drink?” she asked in response to him. Not answering immediately. Ever the hostest, she got herself a glass of lemonade from the kitchen which was partly open plan to the sitting room and looked to Frank.
Alice frowned ever so slightly. “I don’t know, Frank,” she told him. “I know my address isn’t a secret, but it’s not broadcast to anyone but those I know and trust. I’d understand if they’d come to my work apartment, but... I have no idea why or how they came here” she told him. The annoyance of the situation threatened to seep into her tone. Alice shook her head. “Nothing I couldn’t handle. A few cuts and abrasions from brick splitters hitting me. I didn’t let the were’s come close to us,” she told him. “Greengrass helped pull them out,” she added. “I wasn’t going to burden Mungo’s with things I could handle myself, they’re always over-crowded and understaffed,” she added; practical but most specifically to her, sensitive. She moved back into the sitting room, sitting down on the sofa, crossing her legs. She gestured for him to sit if he wished too. Despite being mad, she was mostly relieved he was okay. Overwhelmed by how relieved she was. She kicked off her shoes, exhaling and feeling she she’d finally taken a breath since Frank had arrived. She was quiet for a minute; thinking. “Frank,” she asked quietly.
“I don’t ask much of you, and I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t think it was necessary, but... please keep us safe,” she asked him. “I mean-- within your...circle,” she elaborated. “I know my reputation warrants protection - I’m not going to be targeted very likely. But, if you’re going to be targeted -- well, it’s us who may be at the centre of that,” she said. “Just as... I assume if someone was trying to hurt or punish me and couldn’t do it physically they’d...” she paused, because admitting this was a lot more than either of them ever said. “perhaps target you,”


















