Ever since it happened, Frank knew how it would all go down. He knew Alice would take her time - a month or two, pretend everything was nonexistent and stay strong. And she did it so beautifully well, that if he wasnât as close with her he would never know the level of grief she was experiencing. In a PARALLEL universe, where his father wasnât an angel, where Frank never felt grief nor dealt with it, no deaths, no misery and fear somewhere deep in his heart, he would never know what Alice was going through.
 But the real world wasnât as simple, and with each day he grew to understand that even better. This whole tragedy reminded him why he wanted to become an Auror - to prevent other people from experiencing what countless of families, including the Fortescues, were going through right now. A good man had left this world, and Alice needed his help. Frank cracked the knuckle on his right thumb, biting his lip as eyes trailed down her frame and she seemed empty and slowly f a l l ing. The winter wind was touching his skin as the Astronomy Tower hailed over the entirety of the Hogwarts fields. Beautiful, yet so sad.
  Frank sat beside her, throwing his bag aside not really caring about the books tumbling down the floor. He wrapped her in a hug, just holding and existing for Alice, not saying anything. The only thing audible was their calm breaths and their heartbeats, accompanied by the high-pitched howling of the air. Be strong, Alice, he thought.
  Alice was someone who never fled, someone who always fought. It wasnât in her nature to run away from the things around her, in stead faced anything that she came across with a raised chin and determination in her eyes. But then, in that moment, her legs were begging her to RUN, to get far away from whatever her mind was doing in that moment. She had always been in control of what she felt, but then her father got m u r d e r e d and her control had been ripped from her hands and she had LOST IT.
  And now she was lost, because she had never learned how to deal with emotions. She was the oldest, you see, and with plenty of other children asking for attention, Alice had stopped crying when she was eight, just to make the house a little quieter. In stead, she focused on fixing the problems she faced, but this was a problem she COULD NOT FIX, because her fatherâs fate was final and she could not end her siblingsâ mourning. And so she could feel herself falling apart, the feeling of grief pressing so heavily on her chest that she wasnât sure how she was even breathing.Â
  When Frank wrapped his arms around her, she cried. In his arms, it felt okay to crumble and fall apart, because she knew he was there to help her glue herself whole again. âI was so stupid, Frank,â she said, voice hoars with tears. âThinking I could outrun this, thinking Iâd be fine ----- I canât DO THIS, I donât want to do this, I donât want this fucking grief and this feeling of powerlessness.â
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