Hi all, and welcome back! I hope you're still enjoying the story! In terms of responding to a lovely review left by Fralice, a fellow Alice/Frank shipper (yay! :), they had asked about how long my story is shaping up to be.
Well, I just finished writing chapter 25, and my outline is shaping up to be 30 chapters, as I feel like I have a lot of ground to cover still, and want to give Barty his own HEA, as close to one as I can manage.
19
ALICE shivered as she huddled in front of the lit fireplace in the hearth in the living room of her and Frank's house, watching Frank bustle about the kitchen while he prepared them both a cup of tea. While Alice felt rather useless right now and would have normally insisted that she do it, presently, she still felt too weak and exhausted to even lift a finger.
Her entire body was sore from the scratches on her collarbones, and every step she did take was sore, her shoulder and wrist still throbbed, her chest stung, and she still was feeling quite feverish, if she was being honest with herself.
More to the point, Alice felt like she could barely keep her eyes open, much less help. She watched out of the corner of her eyes as her husband was setting aside some biscuits on a tray to go with their tea. Frank had seemed really upset with her before, which Alice didn't think was rightfully fair.
Frank had been the one to attack Barty first, not the other way around, and Alice knew if their roles had been reversed, if Crouch had fired the first jinx, she would have had the same reaction for Barty as she'd given towards her own husband.
More to the point, Crouch had brought her back and helped her to heal.
Why was it, no matter what she did, it was never good enough?
The way Alice viewed things, Frank should have been happy with how his wife had handled the situation.
She had dealt with Barty the best way she knew how and had successfully, or so she hoped, attempted to squash any hope that the man might have that she harbored romantic feelings still. Though Alice could not deny there was a part of her that would always love Barty, he had chosen his path, and she had chosen hers.
That's just the way it was, and Alice sincerely hoped that Frank would be able to recognize that, that while Barty may have been first, he was not her last. Frank was, and she would always choose Frank.
"This is the way," she whispered quietly, alone, hoping Frank would join her soon.
Alice frowned as she thought over recent events, drawing in a sharp breath that pained her lungs as a stab of pain shot up through her chest, causing her to clutch at a fistful of her blue dress, forcing herself to breathe slowly until it passed.
If it weren't for Barty, she would have been dead. Or she could have told the vampires everything. Maybe they really would have let her go, and then she and Barty could have continued making their way back up to Hogwarts. But she hadn't taken the easy way out. And Frank would always have trouble recognizing that.
His own jealousy towards her past relationship with Crouch had left many things unsaid between them.
Alice pouted as she hugged her arms around herself, realizing with a brief horror-stricken expression on her face, that she was still wearing the blue dress that someone, probably Crouch, had bought for her.
She filed a mental note in the corners of her mind to stop by Barty's house at some point this week and return it. Something inside of her didn't feel right in keeping it, knowing how Crouch felt about her, how he wished that she would have stayed. Alice continued to silently observe Frank's movements. Her husband purposefully stalled in the kitchen.
She shivered, feeling so cold, unable to stop her shivering despite being in front of the warm fire.
Her shivering, she supposed, could have been caused by the fact that she might still be a little feverish after all, despite Snape saying her fever had broken, or that she was experiencing a delayed reaction from having nearly been killed by those six wretched leeches, or perhaps it was due to the chill air around them in their home.
Alice frowned as she thought back to that moment in the hallway of Barty Crouch Jr.'s house, about the way that her husband had looked and spoken to her before. The Auror seemed to think his wife was foolish, and implied that Alice had no idea just how much danger she had been in.
But Alice was well aware of what those vampires could have done to her, and she was more than aware of Crouch's feelings for her. But the plain truth was, she owed Barty her life. If Barty wouldn't have found her when he had, the vampires would still have her in their cruel clutches, and she probably would have suffered at their claws for days before finally granted the sweet relief of death. And that was assuming they didn't turn her.
Alice hadn't realized this before, but of all the number of Dark creatures that existed in this world, vampires were perhaps the most terrifying creature the young witch's overactive imagination could conjure up when asked to describe the worst creature.
Only second to the Dementors of Azkaban, vampires were the cruelest and least merciful creatures Alice had ever encountered in her entire life thus far. Just knowing that there were more vampires out there in the world somewhere, lurking in the shadows of night, made her feel sick with terror and dread right then.
Alice nervously looked up as Frank approached her, carrying a heavily laden tea tray with a couple of biscuits on a small saucer plate, along with their steaming teacups. She really hoped Frank didn't yell at her again.
The way Alice saw it, she had done nothing wrong, no matter what Frank or Remus told her when it came to Barty.
No matter how much Frank agreed or disagreed with Dumbledore on matters regarding the Order's decisions, which these days were more often than not, and the choices of that of its members, this was perhaps the one decision that Alice knew Albus was right to send her in after Barty. And she'd almost made progress too if Frank hadn't insisted on coming.
When she had recognized that Frank was deadest on following her into the Forbidden Forest, Alice had realized she had two choices. Not let their two paths, meaning Frank's and Barty's, ever cross, or allow it to happen, knowing full well the two wizards still harbored animosity and hatred towards one another, which would have culminated in a duel with one or likely both of them seriously hurt, or worse.
Alice shivered as a chill went down her spine. She still felt as though she'd made the right choice, though she had hated the tension that had culminated between her and Frank.
Her husband stood in front of her now, looking down at the witch before speaking. Fortunately, his tone was much calmer and a bit more subdued than before, and Alice felt confident Frank wasn't about to launch into another speech, a lecture about how she needed to watch her back and be more careful, especially now.
"Here, Al," Frank murmured, going over to the couch, and pulling the Afghan off the back of the sofa. He came back to where she was sitting in the armchair in front of the fireplace and gingerly draped it over her shoulders, all the while setting down her teacup on its saucer on a small wooden table next to her. "You should get warm. You're pregnant now, you know," he said.
Alice almost rolled her eyes, though she didn't, managing to refrain herself as she reached out a slightly shaking hand and accepted the blanket.
She didn't want it to seem to her husband that she was coming off as ungrateful, but neither did she think she could handle all of the mollycoddling. She supposed the only thing she could do at the moment was waiting and see if and how much his behavior changed over the next eight or so months as her pregnancy progressed.
"Thank you, Frank," Alice spoke up in a small voice, trying to convey as much gratitude as possible in her tone as she wrapped the blanket around herself with fumbling, shaking fingers.
She held her breath as Frank knelt down in front of her and pulled the blanket more securely around his wife's shoulders, looking Alice squarely in the eyes, and then putting his hand gently against the young witch's warm forehead.
"We're going to need to try to do something about that fever, Alice." Frank frowned as he looked at Alice, stepping back slightly to study his wife's pink, flushed face as she shook her head. "Should I go into Diagon Alley, Alice? I could get you a Pepperup Potion, maybe?"
Alice shrugged her shoulders. "I guess I'll just sleep it off," she suggested in a voice that almost shook as she continued to shiver with gritted teeth. She hadn't realized how poorly she'd been feeling until after Frank had escorted her home.
Frank had already planned for a top Healer from St. Mungo's to agree to make a series of house calls once a day to check on Alice over the next month, bribing the man with a fat pouch of Galleons in order for his services.
She had been surprised that the hospital had agreed when her husband had sent over his owl with the letter attached to its leg detailing his request. They didn't have to wait but a couple of hours for a return response to arrive at their window, stating they would send someone along soon, they said.
Alice only hoped it would be sooner rather than later. She couldn't seem to stop the incessant chattering of her teeth, and her cheeks felt clammy and hot, strands of the bangs of her short dark pixie cut sticking to her forehead.
"Alice," Frank spoke up after a moment, glancing up from the fire that he'd been using the prongs to tend to try to stoke the flames.
Alice flinched, slowly swiveling her gaze up to meet his dark eyes with her blue ones. He must have noticed that Alice was still worried. "You're going to be alright," he said in a strained voice. "You're back home now with me. The Healer should be arriving in a couple of hours, I hope. Just try to get some rest. I won't let anything get to you," he promised, shooting his wife a smile.
Though Alice was still reasonably exhausted, and she could already feel her eyelids start to droop, there were still several things left unsaid between Frank and her that she wanted to get off her chest.
"Frank," Alice squeaked in a small voice, clutching the blanket tightly around her.
"What is it?" Frank immediately asked her, concern marking his features as he waved his wand and caused the chair opposite Alice to scoot even closer so he could take a seat too. "Are you feeling sick? Are you warm enough, Alice?"
"I—I'm fine…" Alice shrugged, looking into the dancing tongues of the flames of the fire for a moment to allow herself to collect her thoughts.
Frank frowned as he reached for Alice's hand. "What is it then, love? Is it…?" His voice trailed off as his gaze landed on the flat of Alice's stomach as he swallowed down hard, still not quite believing that in another nine months, he and Alice were going to be parents to a boy or girl.
"No." Alice shook her head, hesitating, as she bit down on her bottom lip. "I just…I know that you and Barty don't have the best history, Frank, but the man did save my life, and as far as I'm concerned, I've repaid the favor in kind, but…" Alice paused as she searched her brain for the right words. "I hope you know that I'm yours, Frank. Always," she whispered. "And if we have to go back into that awful forest for whatever reason, I want you by my side. I—I don't want to face those creatures again. I shouldn't have tried to apprehend Barty alone, Frank," Alice shivered, glancing down at her chest, and catching a glimpse of the bandages on her wounds underneath her dress, and she shuddered sadly.
Frank simply stared at her as Alice continued. She supposed she ought to be grateful that her husband was letting her talk without interjecting.
"You weren't there, Frank." Alice frowned as she remembered the horrible vampires, along with their threats, the horrible hissing noise the one who had dug his claws into her skin had made. "You didn't hear the things they did to me, Frank. I knew exactly the kind of danger I was in because they told me so. They said they'd make me suffer if I didn't tell them what I wanted…"
She offered a slight chuckle, though Alice honestly found no humor in the situation whatsoever. It was a nervous laugh, the kind she would offer when she was entirely uncomfortable but didn't want to seem like it.
Frank sat down in his chair finally next to Alice in front of the fireplace so that their shoulders were almost touching as they both stared into the flickering flames of the fire, grateful for its light and warmth.
"I didn't mean to…to be so harsh with you earlier, sweetheart," Frank apologized, turning his head to the side to look at Alice and shooting her a pained look, an apologetic look. "When I saw Barty holding you in that cave back in the Forest, I thought that I had lost you, Alice. It was my own fear when I learned that Barty had you at his house, manifesting itself as anger, that made me yell at you like that," Frank explained. "From now on, sweetheart, I'm not letting you out of my sight if I can help it," he said, only half-joking, putting his arm around Alice's shoulders and pulling the Afghan that Alice had draped around her shoulders to keep her warm tighter around her, his hand drifting to her flat stomach. "Either one of you," he whispered. "Is it…is it really true, Alice?" he asked in a hushed voice, the meaning of Lupin's news from back in the Forbidden Forest dawning on him again, now that the worst of his shock had worn off, and he realized it was all making sense. Her sicknesses. "Are we really having a baby, Alice?" he asked.
Alice merely smiled as she beamed, unable to hold back her excited smile, confirming it, though she grew quiet, unsure for a moment.
"You are…happy, aren't you, Frank?" She looked at her husband hopefully, biting down on her bottom lip as she wriggled her brows at Frank.
Frank's dark eyes glistened and shone brightly as the Auror looked into his wife's hopeful and adoring gaze.
"Alice," he sighed. "I couldn't be happier. No man has ever been quite as lucky as me," he promised, bringing his forehead to rest against hers with a joyful sigh. "We're having a baby," he laughed. He could feel the excitement building within him. He wanted to shout for joy.
Without any semblance of hesitation, Frank pulled Alice from her spot in her chair, gathered the young brunette witch in his arms, and spun her around off her feet, hollering at the top of his lungs, knowing that only his wife would hear.
She laughed out loud along with him, happy tears glistening at the edges of her eyelids then. Almost as soon as he'd lifted Alice off her feet, knowing that she was still wounded, Frank frantically realized what he had just done to her.
Quickly and carefully, he set his wife back down on the floor, terrified at the thought of making her injuries even worse or having done harm to the baby growing inside of her.
"Oh, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," Frank repeated urgently. "Did I hurt you, Alice? I—I didn't mean to…"
Alice snickered at his concern, grateful that Frank seemed to have forgiven her for going off alone without him, or if he was still mad, he was choosing to save that conversation for another time. She caressed her husband's jaw, eager to ease his mind.
"No, Frank, you didn't hurt me. You could never," she guaranteed him, passionately. "I am…" Alice stopped herself and ran her hand lovingly over her flat belly. "We're just fine," Alice promised, relieving his worry.
As his hand drifted and settled on her thigh, Alice inhaled sharply.
Her first instinct was to pull away, sensing Frank was still upset with her.
However, she could not force her muscles to move. The breath barely left her burning lungs. She simply glanced down at their interlocked hands, still resting against one another naturally.
Frank straightened, pulling Alice to her feet, letting the Afghan draped over her shoulders fall to the cushion of the chair she had just occupied.
Frank drew closer to his wife, the sheer intensity of the Auror's burning gaze causing a fiery heat to creep to her cheeks that Alice was sure had nothing to do with her slight fever remnants that still lingered from her wounds.
Under her husband's admiration, the young Auror found that she could not move a muscle.
After a long moment, as Alice brought her eyes up to meet Frank's, Frank was caught in the same awe and bewilderment as she found herself in.
Alice let out a helpless, tiny sigh as he moved even closer, closing off the small gap of space between the two of them, he pressed against her, his breath hot as it ghosted along her lips as he brought his lips to hers, apologizing for his harsh words in the only way Frank Longbottom knew how to, and expressed his joy at learning he was becoming a father.
Almost in a moment of possessiveness, Alice slid her hand up Frank's left arm and over his shoulder, drawing him even closer.
He deepened his kiss to her until Alice was more or less rendered powerless to do anything but meet his want with that of her own. There was no kind of protest, no uncertainty, or fear.
Finally, back with Frank where she belonged, Alice felt like in his arms, she was well and truly home. As the force of Frank's kiss intensified along with Alice's willing form, there came a sharp quick rapping of someone's knuckles that resonated against the closed front door of the Longbottoms' home.
The noise was a startling reminder to the young couple of the world outside around them and shattered the passionate moment they shared for that second.
Unwillingly, the pair of them broke apart, a heavy, silent frustration settling into the gap of space between them at their moment being ruined.
Frank rested his face against Alice's cheek, closing his eyes at the bitter reality of the unexpected intrusion, and let out a grunt of frustration at their moment being ruined.
She made no attempt to pull away from her husband, but instead, lowered her head into his embrace. He planted a reassuring kiss into her hair as Alice caught her breath. The two stared at one another, their eyes communicating an entire story that needed no words. Neither one of them had wanted the moment between them to end.
However, now that their affections had been forced to grind to a temporary halt, nothing was left to do but to answer the door and determine whoever was calling upon them at this hour.
"I should see who that is," Frank grunted, low and hoarse, his voice heavy with desire for her.
Alice exhaled a slightly shaking breath as slowly, she nodded in response, and begrudgingly let go of Frank's forearms, letting her hands fall awkwardly to her sides, not sure what to do with her hands now that she was no longer holding him.
Alice was left to stare longingly in her husband's direction as Frank crossed the floor and headed to the front door in order to open it.
Frank awkwardly cleared his throat, wiping his lips with the backs of his fingers.
"Yes? Who is it?" he called out flustered, maintaining a firm grip on his wand. A quiet male voice from the other side of the door shattered the slightly uncomfortable pause that existed for a few seconds after Frank had asked the intruder the question that he had just posed to the figure.
"Healer Jones from St. Mungo's, Mr. Longbottom. I'm looking for your wife, Alice?"
Frank exhaled a sigh of relief, his shoulders slumping as he curled his hand around the door, though almost the instant he found himself face-to-face with the cloaked stranger, this man, his blood ran cold.
He was tall and lean behind his set of lime green St. Mungo's robes and moved swiftly and deftly into the entryway of Frank and Alice's home as Frank numbly stepped aside to let the man pass. Frank felt a sinking dread forming in the pit of his stomach as he realized this was no ordinary St. Mungo's Healer, who was now even drawing closer towards him.
This stranger who Frank had just let in his home seemed to show no interest in examining Alice.
Instead, he did not bother to lower his hood from his face, turning slowly back on his heels to face Frank. "You are Mr. Frank Longbottom?" the stranger murmured as if in secret, his voice a reedy-sounding rasp that chilled Frank's blood.
White knuckles appeared from Frank's balled-up fists as he clutched his wand tightly in his hand.
"Who are you?" Frank snapped, his tone coming across as harsher and more bitter than intended. The stranger paused a moment, finally pulling down the hood of his cloak, dissipating what strength was left in Frank's knees. Beside him, as Alice nervously nudged to stand alongside him, she turned pale in turmoil and took a step back.
"Frank, sweetheart, that's—" she started to say, though she cut herself off when the man looked at her, his thin, almost translucent lips curling upwards into a soft, sardonic smirk that did not mean the man's crimson, bloodshot red irises.
"You are Mrs. Alice Longbottom, correct?" his piercing stare bore holes straight through Alice's heart.
All Alice could do was nod numbly.
"Good." The revealed man, or should Alice say, the creature had not smiled.
Alice swallowed down hard as she knew without a shadow of doubt in her mind that she was looking into the face of one of the vampires from the Forbidden Forest.
Not any one of the ones Barty had slaughtered, thank Merlin, but very much a vampire, and a furious, seething one, at that, as it bared its fangs at her. The vampire sneered, narrowing its blood-red eyes as it looked at Frank and Alice in distaste, scrunching its nose as though it was in the midst of smelling something unpleasant, which, perhaps for its heightened, non-human senses, it was. When he spoke, his tone was cold.
"I ought to rip your throat out right here and now in favor of the pig that you humans call Crouch, but in exchange for lessening the burden, I'll take this one instead," he growled, keeping its red eyes fixed on Frank. "A man for a man, an eye for an eye, isn't that how the saying goes?" he snarled.
The vampire moved with such an alarmingly fast speed that the Dark creature was almost a blur, knocking Frank's raised wand out of his hand with just one blow, reaching out his other arm and snaking a bone-white claw around Alice's waist.
And time itself stood still as the vampire crushed his forehead between Frank Longbottom's eyes, an insane form of greeting which sent the Auror down onto the hardwood floor of their entryway with a broken nose and a bloodied grunt, his scream drowned out over the loud, resounding crack! of the vampire Disapparating, with his wife in tow, heading no doubt, back once again, to the Forbidden Forest.
Frank screamed.