A/N: This was written for a 2AM challenge on a vBulletin site I RP on. I hardly ever write fic... :) but I love Fralice and this just happened! A little backstory: Frank and Alice are in an on-again, off-again relationship.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything! The characters and the HP universe the property of J.K. Rowling and other parties related.
It's really late, Alice thinks as she walks side by side with a curly-haired boy, her hands hanging limply by her sides, shying away from his each time they connect. I have to do this.
The portrait of the Fat Lady comes in sight, and Alice stops at the landing, looking at her shoes. The dim light from the torches casts a sheen against her required Mary Janes, the scuffs of several years' wear showing in the light. She looks everywhere but at Frank. Frank, who is kind. Frank, who is a brilliant kisser. And Frank, who only just got carried away discussing their future after Hogwarts in the Auror department.
"I don't think I can do this anymore," she says, not looking at the boy in front of her as she nervously tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. He doesn't understand; she isn't one for declarations of love or promises of tomorrow. She lives in the present, afraid of what might come.
The ragged sigh that Frank emits is something she has heard before; once, two months ago, when she had said the same thing after they'd had a row about Holly Bryson. And again, five months before that, when she realized that she had begun to love Frank too quickly, and became scared. After that, she had thrown herself into a relationship with a Ravenclaw called Terrence Corner, though that didn't last. It never did.
She doesn't look up in response to the sigh, all of a sudden feeling ashamed for her cowardice. Alice knows she cannot face him. So she begins to edge past him, the tears building up in her eyes, and she's angry, because why is she crying? She has no right to cry. She's-
"No," he says, catching her arm gently as she moves away.
"What?" she says, daring to look at him for the first time in fifteen minutes.
"I said, no," he repeats, and there is a fire burning in his eyes that has nothing to do with the torchlight. "It's either this or nothing, ever again, Alice Prewett. I'm not doing this anymore."
She doesn't know why this sparks something within her, but it does. A nervousness that has nothing to do with her own words and everything to do with his builds, but she is determined to stand her ground. "Isn't that what I just said?" she replies defiantly, though she is not so sure it's what she wants anymore.
"No, Alice, you don't get it," he says frustratedly, running a hand through his curly locks. "I'm tired of the back and forth, calling it off and calling it on again. Why is this just such a simple thing for you, it's not for m-"
"It's supposed to be simple!" she cries, looking away from him. "You're-you're not supposed to-to make me question myself, that's not how rela-"
"But it is! It is how relationships work, Alice, you're just too stubborn to see it! Relationships are not simple, they're not always pretty, but you can't just walk off every time something happens that scares you. Don't you get it? It scares me, too! I'm only seventeen, talking about the rest of my lifehere. But no matter what I think, whatever comes into my mind-you're in it, Al," says Frank, almost defeatedly, as he lets his hand slide down over his face, looking away from her. "You're in it. And I'll be damned if I'm going to let you go again."
"I don't know why,though," she responds desperately. "I'm no good for you, all I do is-"
But what all she did was not important to Frank, for he chose that moment to close the distance that had been growing between them, and suddenly Alice can feel the cool stone wall behind her, and everything clicks as Frank presses his lips, almost angrily, against hers. She responds with the same fervor, clutching at him, and how had she almost let herself be apart from him again? As she kisses him back, she resolves never again to utter the eight words with which she had begun the conversation.
"This is bollocks," says Alice angrily, as she sits underneath a tree, disguised with a Disillusionment charm that helps her to blend in with the bark almost perfectly. That is, if she did not have a blanket wrapped around her. "It's bloody freezingout here!"
Out hereis an abandoned home, the yard of which is swarming with Aurors and Auror trainees after one round of training finishes. It is the middle of December, and Alice and Frank are with their Auror trainee class, attempting to successfully complete a round of Stealth and Tracking training. So far, only John Dawlish has succeeded, irritating the living daylights out of the rest of the class with his gloating.
"How can they expect us to be completely silent when they deliberately throw things at us last minute?" Alice continues on her rant, and she looks to Frank with a disgruntled scowl upon her face. "And at 2 in the bleeding morning; we've been at this for nearly eighteen hoursnow!"
Frank, who looks rather worse for the wear himself, grunts in agreement. His Disillusionment charm has begun to wear off, and he looks ridiculous, almost as if he is a tie-dyed mismatch of human and the ground upon which he sits. "Hey, Al-" he starts, but he is cut off by the coarse bark of Alastor Moody, who is calling them back in before another round begins.
"Oh, can'twe get more than a five minute break?" whines Elias Trumbull as they gather, and he seems to know his mistake the second his words slip out of his mouth, for his eyes widen and he begins to shake his head. "I didn-"
"Didn't what? Mean it?" snaps Moody. "D'you think Dark Wizards are going to give you more than a five minute break in the middle of a week-long standoff?" Trumbull makes a sound. "This is what Aurors do, Trumbull. If you're not cut out for it, you can leave now."
Elias, who had been a Slytherin a year ahead of Alice and Frank, shakes his head furiously, standing up straighter.
"What every Auror needs to know," Moody begins, "Is that you don't getbreaks. You can go days without eating, unless you bring your own sustenance. I myself once went five days without anything but pine nuts to eat during Grindelwald's days of terror. You need to learn vigilance. Constant. Vigilance. Otherwise you won't last ten minutes in a fight with a dark wizard."
Silently, Frank reaches over and takes Alice's hand, grasping her chilled fingers in his. She looks away from Moody as her own Disillusionment charm begins to fade away, and he can see the exhaustion radiating from her face, even as she smiles up at him. A silent understanding passes between them, and she cannot agree more. Even with eighteen hours of almost nonstop training, there isn't anyone that either would rather be beside.
The headlights of a car shine through the curtains of Alice's bedroom in the flat that she shares with Mary, and she grins down at Frank. Her heavy breathing begins to subside, and she feels a rush of triumph at the look of pure ecstasy and-frankly-lust on Frank's face as she eases her way back to her spot beside him. She pulls the sheets up to cover her nakedness as gooseflesh erupts down her arms, and she shifts to lay on her side to look at Frank.
He does the same, propping his head on his hand with his elbow resting against the pillow. He can't help but return the grin that Alice wears-her smiles always were contagious-and he reaches over to run his fingers down her arm, feeling the goosebumps beneath his fingertips.
"Surely you can't be cold after that," he teases, and his hand moves up to brush some blonde strands away from her face, which is the slightest bit damp with sweat.
Alice shrugs, an involuntary shiver running through her at the touch of his fingertips. "It is a bit chilly in here," is her only reply, as she reaches up to capture his hand with hers, feeling overcome with emotion at the sight of him next to her all of a sudden. It is strange for her to remember that only a year ago she sought to end things with him, and now she lay next to him in the small full-sized bed she had purchased for the flat her and Mary had gotten together once they finished Hogwarts, wishing silently to herself that this would never change.
"Stay with me," she says after a few moments of looking at their joined hands, and her eyes shift up to look at Frank's face, her face full of vulnerability and an almost heartbreaking sense of love.
The gravity of her statement and her expression is not lost on Frank, and he moves to pull her to him, his arms wrapping tightly around her. "Always, Al," he murmurs against her soft hair, pressing his lips to the top of her head and kissing her softly. He knows she is worried about the days to come-the missions they will face, the dangers lurking in the shadows and the dark threats they will face. Frank is, too-but he will hold it together for the both of them, just now.
"Hand me that bottle of ink, will you?" Alice barks as she stretches out her arm, palm open, waiting for the ink that is sitting next to Mary's glass of water.
The bottle drops into her hand and she quickly wraps her hand around it before setting it down, not wanting to drop it. She had already dropped one bottle of ink that evening, ruining seven invitations and almost ruining her favorite pair of trousers.
"Alice, don't you need to-" Mary starts, looking worried for her best mate.
Alice's head snaps up to look at Mary, her eyes narrowed. "I'll be fine, Mare," she says snippily, looking stressed. She unscrews the top from the bottle of ink and sits her quill in, allowing it to soak in the black ink, and looks around the small living room.
It is wedding chaos. There are invitations scattered everywhere in various states of completion, spare bits of tulle on the floor next to the table, and scraps of parchment with seating arrangements cover the top of the table. It is a mere five weeks until Alice and Frank's hastily planned wedding, and Frank is out on a mission with Moody and Kingsley-he hasbeen out, for about six days, without so much as a Floo call from him to let Alice know he is alright.
"But Alice, you need to get some rest; aren't you and Dawlish going to that crime scene in Hertfordshire in the morning?" asks Mary worriedly, shoving her hair behind her shoulder.
Alice puts her head in her hands on the table, sticking her elbow on the still-drying parchment of the invitation labeled Emmeline Vance. "I can't," she says, her voice beginning to shake. "Every time I fall asleep, I have dreams that he's just-just lying out there somewhere, Mare." Alice chokes on her words, and she begins to sob. "I c-can't believe that Moody won't-won't let him Floo me, even. I just-"
Mary scrambles around the table from her seat, pulling the closest chair over; she wraps her arms around Alice and lets her best friend sob into her shoulder, and her brow furrows. Mary knows that this was the risk Alice and Frank faced, becoming Aurors-but never has she seen Alice so torn up with worry. "I know, sweetheart, I know," she murmurs consolingly to Alice, rubbing her back. All of a sudden, Mary hates everything at fault for her best friend's tears. She hates the Death Eaters for existing, she hates Ambrose Mulciber for attacking her in their sixth year, she hates the Aurors for being gone so long-but most of all, she hates that she feels helpless.
Alice is sobbing so loudly that neither of them hear the latch on the front door, but as soon as Mary spots movement out of the corner of her eye, she is at the door with her wand in her hand the second it swings open.
"Frank!" Alice cries, her voice strangled as she moves quickly towards him.
"Alice, not yet," Mary hisses, holding a hand out. She turns to look at Frank, who looks worse for the wear and drenched from the early spring rain. "What did I say to you in our fifth year after the Gryffindor-Ravenclaw Quidditch match?" Her wand is pointed directly at Frank's chest.
"Come on, Mary," Frank says wearily.
"No."
Frank heaves a sigh and looks thoughtful for a moment. "You told me that I was a damn fool for asking Holly Bryson to Hogsmeade," he says finally, and Mary lowers her wand. She only just steps out of the way before Alice and Frank crush each other in a hug, Alice's hands searching him for injury. Mary can't help but smile, and moves to the table to begin clearing the mess.
It's a pleasant dream.
It is their wedding, all over again, but this time it is in the grove of trees near the rose garden in Hogsmeade. Alice finds herself walking down an aisle, surrounded by bushes of white, pink, and red roses, and the only thing she sees is Frank. Glorious Frank, beautiful Frank, standing beneath a shady willow tree, beaming at Alice. There seems to be no one else around as she walks, her footfalls on the grass muffled. Everything sounds strangely to her, she thinks, but it doesn't matter-Frank is so close, now.Just a bit further,a voice says in her head. She smiles and looks down at her bouquet; it is made of the same roses that surround her.
At long last, she reaches Frank, her hands stretched out to grasp his; the ceremony is over in a flash, and suddenly, they are at the lake, back in their seventh year. Alice remembers this day fondly; it was the end of exams, and both she and Frank were rather hopeful for a positive outcome on all of their N.E.W.T.s, after such an exhausting week. The sun beats down on the banks of the lake where the two lounge, and suddenly, Alice moves to the lake and jumps in, rejoicing in the feel of the warm water around her legs.
Wait. Warm water?
The room is almost pitch-black as Alice sits up with a struggle, her eyes wide in alarm. Her hand automatically moves beneath the covers, and she scrunches her nose up with disgust before using her other hand to shake Frank awake.
"Frank," she says loudly. "Frank!"
He grumbles noncommittally, and rolls over.
"Frank Isaac Longbottom, you wake up right now and take me to St. Mungo's!Neville is coming!" she shouts, and moves out of the bed as best she can-waddles, really.
He bolts up at that, and grins before moving quickly to gather their things.
Maybe some of the better things did happen after 2AM.
A/N: Reviews are like kittens :)