A/N: Frank second-guesses the feelings he's been getting from the Riddle House. Kind of difficult to write about a character who died right after he was introduced.
Submission for:
Character Pyramid Challenge: Frank Bryce. Second guessing.
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.
Frank sat in his worn-out armchair, concentrating on minimizing the trembling of his hand as he brought the hot mug of tea to his lips. The call of the umpire on the small telly kotched on the edge of the dining table sounded through his small cottage on the grounds of the abandoned Riddle Manor. He had been the caretaker for a few years now, and though the inhabitants of the Manor had died years before, he stayed on, working in the gardens when his joints weren't acting up.
There was a loud bang outside, breaking his concentration. The mug slipped, burning his hand before shattering on the floor to the right of his chair.
Frank rose to his feet, cradling his hand to his chest as he ambled towards the kitchen sink as quickly as his stiff leg would allow. He cast a worried look outside his window, the Riddle House standing impassively on the slight hill a distance away. Lately, there had been strange banging and clanging going in there. The villagers thought it to be haunted.
Now Frank never believed in ghosts, but he couldn't deny the strange aura he felt radiating from the house in the past month. Something was going on, something he had never experienced in all his years working on the grounds, something evil. He should go and investigate. It could be hoodlums, or ratty children doing god-know-what in there.
But as the cool water ran over his scalded hand, Frank averted his eyes from the dark structure and began second-guessing himself. It was probably nothing to get worked up over, probably part of the floor finally giving away to age and time.
He walked back to his chair with a fresh, though less-filled, cup of tea, cursing himself for thinking such horrid thoughts and getting worked up over nothing.