A/N: Hi, all! Thanks for taking the time to read my story :) This was written for the Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition's round 7. I, as beater 2 of the Caerphilly Catapults, had to write about the HMS Aurora Borealis, which is Frank/Alice. For judging purposes, my optional prompts were:
9. (dialogue) "You're crazy!" / "Were you ever under the impression that I was normal?" and
12. (word) mist.
The final word count of this story is 1,460.
Before
Frank and Alice Longbottom trudged through the streets of Diagon Alley as quietly as possible. A thin mist circled around their feet, and a damp chill clung to the scarves at their necks. Frank pulled at his in discomfort.
"Honestly, love, how did you make it through Hogwarts if you can't even manage to wear a scarf? You wore a tie to class every day."
"You know McGonagall was always docking uniform points because of me. I hate the damned things—it's like I'm being choked by a garden snake."
Alice rolled her eyes and shoved her husband's shoulder with her own.
"I'm pretty sure wearing a garden snake around your throat is a tad more upsetting uncomfortable than a tie."
Frank scoffed and pulled at his scarf again.
"Ever the realist, aren't you, dear?"
The distinct crack of Apparition pulled the couple from their banter as their heads swiveled toward its general direction. Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor was as quiet as ever once the echoes had faded away, but Alice couldn't help the gooseflesh that had started to cling to the base of her stomach.
"Dumbledore gave us strict orders to avoid magical transportation," she muttered needlessly. She knew Frank would remember—hell, the conversation had taken place less than an hour ago—but she needed to hear the words herself, to remind herself that nothing friendly was Apparating at this time of night. She stared at the darkened alleyway beside the shop, removing her gaze only when she felt Frank's grasp on her arm and a whispered suggestion to leave in her ear.
The mist at their feet was thickening now, drowning out their trainers as they crossed over the cobblestones. Frank stopped beside Madam Malkin's, and Alice felt his calloused palms push her behind an empty rubbish bin beside the storefront. She cast a Disillusionment Charm under her breath as he crouched behind her. She had always been pants at silent spellcasting, and she prayed that such a shortcoming wouldn't blow their cover now. The entire Order was currently under instructions to avoid engagement whenever possible, especially in public areas. The conflict was too fragile at the moment. Dumbledore needed more time to gauge the opposing forces before they went on the offensive.
Through the haze, Alice could hear muffled footsteps still tucked into the alley. Each of the shop fronts was dark, and from her vantage point across the street, Alice saw nothing but an empty walkway.
Dumbledore, Lily, and James had left the Leaky Cauldron in the opposite direction of her and Frank, toward Muggle London, in order to investigate some nearby Death Eater activity—Sirius' cousin Bellatrix had been torturing Muggles again, apparently, and they wanted to handle it before it escalated. At any rate, they were too far away now to help Alice and Frank, and a Patronus message would be spotted easily in the evening gloom. Presently, the distinct tap of heels against stone broke through the silence.
The sound drew closer, and Alice could feel Frank poised to attack. The steps were taunting, leisurely, and when they changed direction and headed back toward Fortescue's again, Alice squeezed Frank's hand once before rising from her crouch.
"What—?"
Frank's whisper was cut off by Alice's finger over his lips. She kept her gaze on his until his eyes relaxed by just a fraction. Then, she lowered her hand to rest on his shoulder for a moment before grabbing hold of a nearby drainpipe. With a flick of her wand and a muttered spell, she grasped the damp metal and bolstered her feet against the wall.
It took mere seconds for Alice to scale the bricks and pull herself up onto the rooftop. When Frank, who was bigger and heavier than she, tumbled over a moment later, Alice darted a furtive glance across the Alley and waited.
There was no indication that they had been heard. She let out a small sigh of relief and moved toward the front of the roof, but stopped when she felt Frank's grip at her elbow.
"You're crazy!" he muttered, and Alice could hear the tension in his voice. She let out a huff and pulled her arm from his grasp.
"Were you ever under the impression that I was normal? You married me in the Hogwarts Owlery, Frank. That doesn't exactly set the tone for a normal life."
She had hoped that her attempt at levity would be accepted, but his hushed retort came back just as sharp.
"Normal, no, but I always saw you as having some sort of sense!"
Alice reached out to clutch her husband's hand. She squeezed it tightly, silencing him before speaking.
"Frank, there is a Death Eater wandering about in a shopping center—the same shopping center where hundreds of schoolchildren and their families will be visiting in less than eight hours. We don't have time for this."
Alice watched through the fog as Frank's jaw clenched before he nodded stiffly. Together, still hand-in-hand, they swept toward the top of the storefront and ducked down, watching for any sign of movement on the street below.
Mere minutes passed before a tall form entered the street once more. Its shape was distorted somewhat by the pervasive fog, but Alice could clearly make out a head of black curls trailing down slender shoulders. While she couldn't make out the severe set of the Black-family jaw, she knew it was there. The sauntering gait, almost like a drunken swagger, was enough to seal the identity in Alice's mind.
Bellatrix Lestrange. Dumbledore and the Potters would not find her in Muggle London after all.
Then, out of nowhere, a sharp memory cut through Alice's thoughts—the stiff, flaunting walk of Narcissa Black as she approached Alice, nearly eight years ago. Alice remembered how her eleven-year-old self had felt as she clutched at her wand, as Narcissa ran her fingers through Alice's hair in false appreciation before sucking on her teeth, gathering a wad of saliva atop of her tongue, and spitting it onto the crown of Alice's head. She had turned to walk away after that, and Alice had felt both her gag reflex and her tear ducts working overtime as her mind scrambled for some sort of revenge.
Her wand had moved before she even knew it. The nastiest spell that Alice had ever cast had flown from her thoughts that day and landed right on Narcissa Malfoy's skin.
She had watched in mixed horror and satisfaction as boils had sprouted from the older girl's arms and hands, immediately sputtering and popping, speckling her face and torso with purple pus. Narcissa had cried in outrage before the actual pain set in. She had then fallen to the ground, clutching herself in discomfort. Alice had been glad to see her graduate a few months later—from that day forward, the stabbing glare that she had faced each time she passed Narcissa in the hallway had been worse than the three months of detention she had received for attacking a fellow student. Thinking back on it, she figured that McGonagall had probably gone easy on her out of pity. Even she couldn't stand the Black sisters.
Alice now felt her wand rising just as it had on that distant afternoon. Before she could give it a second thought, she swiped it through the air.
A moment later, a stifled cry of anguish filled the silence, and a pocked head turned toward the roof just before Alice and Frank could duck from view. After a few shouted expletives and promises to return, there was another crack of Apparition, and Alice knew that she and her husband were alone once more.
They sat on the quiet roof for a moment as Alice studied the mist. She could feel Frank's eyes on her face, and she slowly turned to meet his stare.
"You really are crazy," he said with a chuckle.
Alice let huffed out a snicker and watched as Frank raked his fingers through his hair. He leaned in after a moment to press a kiss to Alice's temple. He lowered his lips to her cheek as he spoke.
"I love you, dear, but you do scare me sometimes."
Alice let herself indulge in a real laugh at that. Over the previous months, she was sure that had become Frank's favorite phrase.
Finally, after a moment, she let the smile slip from her face as she leaned back against the half-wall that ringed the rooftop.
"I shouldn't have done that," she said, picking at her palms. They were covered a moment later when Frank took them in his hands and kissed each one.
"Don't worry about it, love," he whispered. "What could she ever do to us?"