frank was often plagued with his inability to shut up and yet all it had taken was an owl from his mum and he was basically running through the castle to find her.
alice crouch. merlin, was that her full name? you would think that he would know his betrothed’s full name and yet here he was grasping at straws, mind reeling from this revelation-- there was another big word betrothed. he had one of those now, apparently. according to the piece of parchment that he was clenching in his fist. as if his own opinion was meaningless -- had he ever said more than ten words to the girl? wait no -- he had. they patrolled once or twice in their lives, apparently their lively conversations about the horrors of potions was enough to ensure that his life was signed to hers.
he turned the next corridor, barreling to the doors of the puffle commons, he stopped the girl in yellow, “hey -- could you hop in there and find alice crouch for me? she’s a few inches taller than you -- blonde, probably fuming or in shock -- you can tell her that frank longbottom is out here. you know, the boy that’s referenced in the letter she’s probably clutching in her hands--” he rambled, out of breath as he watched the girls shocked expression for a second before she had taken off into their commons.
@crovchss