Entry for the QLFC, Finals Round 1 – Wigtown Wanderers vs. Wimbourne Wasps

OTP: Alice/Frank

Player 6: A metaphor AND an example of foreshadowing

Thank you to Emily and Dina, who betaed this for me!

(928 Words)

Suspiciously Quiet

Alice Longbottom still had a smile on her face as she unlocked the door of her house, carrying a gift bag in her left hand while holding her wand with her right. She'd just returned from brunch with some of her school friends – after leaving Hogwarts, most of them had gone in different directions, and it had been nice to get back in touch with them. So, that morning she'd left her husband Frank alone with their son, trusting him to take good care of Neville for a few hours – she'd patted his shoulder with a smile and given him some encouraging words, inwardly snickering about his slightly horrified expression.

When she entered the house, she was surprised about how silent it was.

In fact, too silent for her liking.

Locking the door behind her, she put the gift bag down and slipped out of her shoes as silently as she could, her fingers clutching her wand a little bit tighter as she tried to listen into the silence to catch anything abnormal.

But there was nothing out of the ordinary – though a silent house was suspicious to her, as Neville caused a lot of havoc most of the time, or kept everyone awake by screaming or crying. For a moment, she pondered if she should call for her husband, but then the Auror inside of her told her not to. She really didn't want Alastor Moody to stand over her dead body and still lecture her about constant vigilance and not using that smart head of hers.

Slowly, careful not to step onto the floorboard that always creaked, she moved over to the living room, spotting the quilt they always had on the floor for Neville. It was half flipped over, as if someone had tripped over it, and literally every single one of Neville's toys was lying in close proximity to the quilt. Some of them were broken, looking like they'd been stepped on, and Alice felt a lump forming in her throat.

One of her favourite decorative vases was lying on the ground, shattered, and she felt panic simmering in the pit of her stomach as she stepped deeper into her home, always watching out for possible attackers.

Red liquid staining the dining table caused her to start shivering in anxiety, and she nearly stumbled over her own feet as she slowly moved towards the stairs, having found no trace of her son and husband downstairs. A part of her really didn't want to go upstairs, afraid of what she might find there, but then, she also had to go and see it. She needed to know what had happened in her home, what fate her son and her husband had met, and the only way to find out was to walk up these stairs and see for herself.

As she reached the upper level of their small house, she nearly laughed at the irony of how the birds were chirping peacefully outside while she could feel her knees shaking with fear. Her son's room was empty, untouched, but the door to the bedroom was slightly ajar, and gripping her wand so tight that her knuckles were white, she moved closer.

Ready to cast any defensive spells, she pushed the door open, her heart skipping a beat in her chest...

"Oh, seriously?" she huffed, staring at the picture in front of her while lowering her wand. Frank was lying on their large bed, fast asleep, with Neville snoring on his chest. Both of them were stained with what seemed to be the chocolate cake she'd prepared the previous evening, and they overall looked like they'd had a rough day.

Though feeling endlessly relieved, Alice could also feel a little bit of anger approaching – after all, they'd made a lot of mess, had scared her to death and had gotten chocolate all over her favourite sheets. Careful not to wake Neville, Alice climbed onto the bed and pinched her husband on the cheek, something that always woke him up.

"What in Merlin's uncombed beard did you two do?!" she whispered furiously before Frank could say anything, and a guilty expression flashed over his face. Gently lifting Neville off his chest and settling him on some sort of enchanted pillow fortress that would keep him from falling off the bed, he motioned to her that they should leave the room.

"I tried to keep him under control," Frank replied as they made it downstairs, scratching the back of his head, and Alice glared at him in slight disbelief.

"So, you're trying to tell me that our not even one year old son caused this mess all by himself?" she hissed, indicating the living room with an exaggerated gesture, and Frank nodded, his expression serious.

"He's fucking mobile for a baby! I think I lost several years of my life through stress as I was trying to keep him under control!"

Alice couldn't help but show her confusion with a frown, and Frank sighed.

"He's a good boy when you're around. But the moment you were out the door, he decided to see how easy it would be to escape from me!"

"The Jekyll and Hyde of babies? Come on, Frank, don't think I'll let you off the hook with that kind of explanation! You made a mess of our home and I really don't want to know what happened to my chocolate cake!"

"That, my love, is always going to be a mystery."