AN: Hey, this little drabble is for the Hunger Games Competition, Round 2, using the prompts: relief, Knockturn Alley, Frank Longbottom, "You're freezing" and astray. Please review and ennoy!
Disclaimer: These characters do not belong to me.
O.o.O.o.O.o.O
Frank shivered as he walked along the twisting turns and curves of Knockturn Alley, wishing that he had thought to bring along some gloves. Or a scarf. A hat would be heaven right now. Rubbing his blue hands against each, searching for a warmth that didn't exist, Frank looked around at the totally unfamiliar pathways, looking for a sign that he might be getting closer to wherever that bloody kneazle got to.
Up and down both ends of the twisting alley he was walking in, all he could see in each direction, was tiny, dark, grimy, and in some cases down-right scary little shops. Most of them had some part of some animal in the windows, like claws, eyes (he fervently hoped that none of them were actually human) intestines laid out on faded velvet cushions, and in one particularly dark and grimy shop he could even see some hands and feet, complete with a human head frozen in a terrified scream. Shuddering in revulsion, Frank hurried on, desperate for his own fire-place and a warm cup of tea, brought to him by a smiling Alice, but he knew he couldn't go home. Not yet.
Frank had taken their one-year old kneazle out for a walk earlier in the afternoon, when it wasn't as cold, which explained his hatless, gloveless and scarf-less appearance. While he loved and respected his wife, and knew that she was one the smartest people he had ever met, he wished that she had told him that kneazles didn't like to be walked. He had thought he would surprise her by having the thing (Alice will kill him for calling her that, her name was Nancy) exercised and out of energy tonight, so that she would be tuckered out and wouldn't keep them up all night, only to realise five minutes after he had arrived that Nancy liked being tied up almost as much as a dragon liked having her eggs stolen. Predictably, Nancy had gotten loose, and had run straight into Knockturn Alley, after a black tom cat who Frank was sure had led her astray and may well be keeping her company right this minute. He was hoping he wouldn't have to explain some new developments to his wife in a few months, but that was all if he actually found the damn kneazle, which Frank wasn't sure he was going to.
He had been walking around Knockturn Alley for about two hours now, calling out Nancy's name and cursing himself for his stupidity, and he was fairly certain he was going to have to go back to his wife and admit to losing Nancy. He was just about to give up and go home to face Alice's wrath for letting her baby (she insisted on calling her that, although Frank just rolled his eyes in exasperation) get away, when he heard a faint sound, as if of a cat mauowing. Hurrying around the bend from whence he had heard that pitiful sound originate, he saw Nancy, a little ginger kneazle, very small for a kneazle, huddled up in a corner, looking to be the picture of misery.
Letting a wave of cool, blissful relief wash through him, (yes he was relieved he found the thing, but to be honest, he also really loved Nancy, and would be devastated if she was really lost), he hurried over to her, picking her up in his own cold blue hands, but still being able to feel that she was ice-cold.
"You're freezing!" Frank exclaimed, amazed and a little worried that he could feel it through his own icy cold hands. "Time to get you home! Let's just hope that you haven't gotten me into too much trouble. No need to look at me like that, you were the one who ran off! And you had better not have gotten any little presents for us in a few months. You don't want kids with a father who runs of at the first opportunity, trust me."
Grinning at the cat, who was indeed staring at him balefully, he turned on the spot and dissaparated, looking forward to a nice hot meal and tea, and hoping that Alice won't be too mad at him being late for dinner. He does so love his dinner.