Notes: Written for the 12 Days of Christmas Style challenge. Marauders Era. AU. [This is entirely written to make myself feel better about my own klutziness. :p]
It's with a sinking heart and pinwheeling arms that you realise you can't quite maintain your balance. Not this time. So you tumble down the stairs, the blasted, damnable stairs that only just began to move three seconds after you lifted your foot to step on them, and you realise, when you finally reach the bottom in a crumpled, throbbing heap, that your ankle is twisted in a way that it's probably not meant to be.
"Sod it all," you whisper weakly to yourself, pushing yourself into a sitting position and wincing as more pain radiates out from your ankle and the side of your neck. It's twenty minutes to curfew, and the chances of anyone hearing you but the ghosts are slim, but you call out anyway. "Hello? Anyone?"
Utter silence meets you, and you curse again. Of course. You only wanted a book from the library to finish your essay on Shrinking Charms (and in fact, you can see said book, along with the rest of the contents of your book-bag spilled along the steps), and instead of a calm evening spent revising, you are now stuck at the bottom of the stairs on the third floor, discovering how blasted cold it gets at night, and that you have a better chance of a unicorn cantering out of the shadows and healing your wounds than you do of being able to stand up.
"Prewett?" a voice carries down the nearest hallway and you nearly fall back over in relief, before realising it's him. Of course it's him. Frank Longbottom appears out of the shadows, his wand lit.
"Oh, it's you," you say before you think, an automatic snipe at him, and you can see his face tense up, and a little uncomfortable prickle runs down your spine.
"Yeah, it's me," he says coolly. "What happened to you?"
"Tripped," you admit awkwardly, leaning clumsily against the bottom step.
"Can you get up?" he asks, and you shake your head, tears coming to your eyes from the pain that throbs in your neck.
"All right then," Frank sighs. He goes past you, up the stairs, and you realise he's gathering your things. The tears that sparkle in your eyes aren't from the pain anymore, and you bite your lip in embarrassment as he comes back down to you, neatly placing your book-bag in your lap.
"Thank you," you whisper, and you can see a slight smile twitch his lips as he stands back up.
"Let's get you to the hospital wing, shall we, Alice?" he asks as he flicks his wand and levitates you onto a magical stretcher, careful not to jar you, and you're too caught up in keeping hold of your things to realise that for once, he called you by your first name.