"Legend has it that many years ago; a knight and his lady were walking along the side of a river," he began, his voice deep and solemn, "The knight reached to pick a posy of flowers from a nearby bush, but because he was distracted by the beauty of the maiden and also because of the weight of his armour, he fell into the river. Right before he drowned, he tossed the flowers to his beloved, shouting, 'Forget me not!'"
"You actually believe that?" she asked mockingly as she looked up at him. They were lying under the vast cloudless sky with her head resting on his stomach.
"Don't you think it's romantic?" he exclaimed.
"It's complete bollocks if you ask me," she mutters before adding with a laugh, "And besides, since when did Frank Longbottom become a romantic?"
He shrugged then smiled. "Since the moment he found a reason to be."
But the knight did not die that day. He and his lady went on to be among the greatest Aurors of their time, having fought valiantly in the First Wizarding War. History books would later tell of their bravery and the terrible fate that had befallen them, but they always left out the more important part of the story. Because before the darkness and horror, there was light and love. They were Frank and Alice and this is a story of the life they shared together as encapsulated by a tiny blue flower.
The Beginning
There had never been a time when Frank Longbottom fathomed himself calling the vivacious and troublesome Alice Fawley his best mate. They were far too different individuals—from their houses to their interests. She believed in making the most of her stay at Hogwarts, even when it would cost her detention once every two weeks. He managed to veer away from any trouble of sort for all seven years he had been in the school, always thinking of what his mother would say. She liked to think that she lived in every moment. He'd rather plan ahead. She chose to be outside at any chance she got. He preferred to stay indoors, surrounded by leather-bound books.
Yet there it was. As he gazed upon her one lazy Thursday afternoon at their usual spot near the Black Lake, Frank found that he could no longer think of a time when Alice was anything but his best mate. Sure, he still enjoyed his time with his old friends from boyhood, but being in Alice's life—or more appropriately, her always being a constant presence in his—made him open up to her in a way he never did with anyone else. They became so used to each other that the thought of a single day going by that they would not see the other was unthinkable.
But on that lazy Thursday afternoon, something else crept up on Frank's mind. It was a thought that made his heart thump rapidly in his chest, making him feel as if he had just run a mile. It was foreign, yes, but not at all strange. Something stirred inside him as he watched Alice talk about the atrocities of bigotry that persisted in the Wizarding World. She was a very light-hearted person, but when she talked about matters that she was passionate about, it was wise not to challenge her unless learned in the subject. Or so Frank noticed. Her eyebrows were knotted in sheer concentration, her dainty mouth spewing out solid arguments and a few swear words here and there. Her arms move about as if she were conducting an orchestra, making her speech seem more dramatic. Frank noted the angle of the sunlight and how it poured over Alice so perfectly that she seemed like a glowing ethereal being.
That's when he knew. Their friends would later make fun of him for it—"You fell in love with Alice while she's having her daily rants?" "Really, Frank?"—but for all Frank Longbottom was, he couldn't help it.
Just as he couldn't help himself from telling Alice what he felt that day.
"You look beautiful," Frank heard himself say aloud. Oddly enough, he didn't find himself squirming in humiliation when she stopped abruptly and shot him a curious look. This was important, after all, because it was Alice herself who always teased him about how much of a hopeless case he was when it came to the art of flirting. And with girls in general. Frank realized that he didn't want to retract his words either or ignore her stare.
Instead, he felt brave; the way Alice looked at him gave him the courage to continue.
"Your eyes," he said, "I've never noticed how blue they are."
Alice shook her head, thinking how Frank must be getting madder by the second for being out in the sun for too long. It was the most logical explanation she could muster, anyway. Despite this, she could not help the scarlet shade that quickly tainted her usually pale cheeks. Frank found this endearing, however, so when she glanced up at him again, she saw him smiling.
"They really are beautiful, you know. As blue as these"—Frank crouched forward and picked a handful of flowers from the bush behind Alice—"forget-me-nots." He presented it to her with a lopsided grin and she accepted it before collapsing into his arms.
And just like that, Alice Fawley was no longer just Frank Longbottom's best mate. She was also his girlfriend, and would later go on to be his wife and the mother of his child. But most important of all, she had always been his soul mate. And while he initially had qualms about their friendship, Frank never questioned his love for Alice. He never found a reason to. Loving her, being with her, seemed as if it was the most natural thing in the world. And as their friends would later describe their new, more intimate relationship, "it was only a matter of time."