LONGBOTTOM, francis "frank" ewan

[frank]

Nickname: KD
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What can be found in a name:
Francis "Frank" Ewan Longbottom
When the day I was born:
8/12/1957
The Angels screamed:
Ewan and Augusta Longbottom. Ewan was a famed Auror, now deceased since April of 1975. Augusta is a homemaker. As much as he would have liked to have siblings, he is an only child.
And Hell shut its doors:
An ancient, grouchy barn owl who never passes up a chance to nip at Frank while delivering mail. Frank named it Archimedes, after Merlin’s owl, because the owl was probably old enough to have been a contemporary of Merlin. The two have a somewhat volatile relationship.
While creatures retreated:
Pureblood, not that it matters to him.
To depths unknown:
Gryffindor, 7th year

I hide from them:
The Library, Gryffindor Common Room, Quidditch Pitch, Room of Requirement, and nearly anywhere that is and quiet.
Be who they want to see:Frank has light brown hair, wavy and always out of place, as if he had just rolled out of bed, and grey-blue eyes. Fair skinned, Frank is just a hair under 160 pounds, and a few centimeters below six feet (and yes, that is frustrating). Up until his third year, Frank was short, plump, and frequently teased, but this is not the case now. Frank is happy to say now that puberty has allowed him to grow into his body, and he is now tall and fit, if a little lanky, with narrow shoulders, slim hips, and lean muscles.

Despite his sense of pride at his transformation, if one were to ask Frank's opinions on his appearance, it would no doubt be pessimistic. Frank is a former fat kid, and while the self consciousness and self-esteem issues that stemmed from that have lessened significantly, they have still never quite dissipated. He can't help but still see the awkward little boy in the mirror. He still finds it a little surprising that girls even pay attention to him. Well, all except the girl. The only girl.

When it comes to personal style, well, the thing that Frank likes most about school uniforms is that he doesn’t have to decide what to wear in the morning. Frank abhors shopping of any kind, but reluctantly he shops around for the clothes that he wears because if he didn’t, his mum would shop for him. So, this means that he does have to make some decisions concerning clothes. Normally when he isn't in his school robes, Frank prefers anything comfortable. His style could be described as merely average. He’s fond of jeans or trousers and t-shirts, or sweaters in the colder months. However, now that he is nearing graduation, he is beginning to integrate things like jackets and ties into his regular wardrobe, in preparation for a future Ministry career. Sometimes he can be seen wearing the apparel of his favorite Quidditch team, the Montrose Magpies, particularly on days when they have matches.
But that leaves no one:

To discover that inside:Ultimately, Frank would want to be known as a capable wizard and a kind person, and those are the traits that he tries to exemplify at all times. Say what you will about the silly-sounding surname, Frank is nevertheless proud to be a Longbottom, and he works hard to uphold his family’s name. To him, that means performing at his absolute best in school and exerting much effort to be a gentleman and a good friend. Frank is kind and generous, the type of guy who regularly loans out his quills to other students all the while knowing that they will never be returned, and he makes friends easily. Often, when first meeting him (or alternatively, if you happen to be a beautiful woman), Frank is quiet and shy, letting the larger personalities of his friends take the spotlight, but he relaxes eventually. Intelligent and driven, Frank excels in the more practical fields of magical study, and spends some of his time tutoring students in a few subjects, most notably in Defense Against the Dark Arts. Receiving good marks in school is almost worth it, were they not requirements for Auror training, just because doing well in school almost ensures fewer Howlers from Augusta. And, really, that makes his perfectionism worth it.

While he is an obvious supporter of Gryffindor, he places little importance in a person’s house or blood purity, choosing instead to examine how that person treats others.

On the negative side, Frank is often under-estimated, and to be perfectly honest, he sometimes underestimates himself. Even though he is proud to be in Gryffindor, like his late father, he finds it difficult to see the Gryffindor qualities in himself. Often, if asked, he’ll say that he is probably a better fit for Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff. In his youth, he used to pick a fight with anyone who challenged him, but this habit has mellowed with age and maturity. While his anger can still be provoked, Frank tries his best to avoid conflict. He’s served far too many detentions on account of his quick temper in his youth.

While Frank is loyal and trustworthy, he is wary of letting people in, especially since the death of his father. Terrified of failure and letting people in to see 'the real Frank,' he tends to build up walls, hiding behind an image of quiet perfection and confidence. He has become considerably more withdrawn since then, and sometimes uses his overachieving nature as a shield against revealing his inner workings.

This soulless being:
• What’s familiar to him.
• Defense Against the Dark Arts, his best and favorite subject.
• Alice, though this is probably obvious, considering he's been after her for years.
• Reading. He’s an absolute bookworm. His friends have advised that he should consider listing the school library as his permanent address.
• Rainy days. He loves running through puddles, but hates muddy shoes. Paradox.
• An academic challenge. Or any challenge, for that matter.
• Making his family, or rather, his father, proud.
• Firewhiskey. But there's a big downside to this 'like.' See Weaknesses.
• Being away from his mum (Thank you, Hogwarts).
• He’s absolutely mad for good pizza, and in his youth devoted a fair amount of time in his summers tracking down the best slice he could find.
• Cigarettes, unfortunately. He's not proud of it.
Is just as lost:
• Looking at old family photographs. Too many memories.
• Spearmint and mushrooms. “Separately, obviously, but they would be equally gross together.”
• His mum, Augusta Longbottom. "Well, that's not exactly fair, is it?"
• His mum, occasionally. There's a difference between frequent frustration and dislike.
• Arithmancy. His mind just doesn’t work that way.
• Sweatervests. If his mum had her way, that’s all he’d wear, and he doesn’t care much for his mother’s fashion sense. “Have you seen the vulture hat? I swear I saw it move once, all on its own.”
• Laziness. He can’t stand unmotivated people.
• Needless violence. While he is against violence in general, he nevertheless feels that the measures taken by the Auror office are necessary to protect peace.
• You Know Who, Death Eaters, and others who practice the Dark Arts. This is somewhat self-explanatory.
• Trying to kick bad habits. It has always proved grossly unsuccessful.
• However, as much as he loathes trying to quit, above all else, Frank dislikes…cigarettes. So perhaps he may have to deal with quitting.
As everyone else:
• Academically, Frank is very strong. This is not to say that he is naturally gifted; Frank works very hard for his good grades.
• Frank is a talented duelist. His affinity for offensive magic initially stemmed from having to defend himself against bullies in his much younger days. However, while those bullies are no longer a problem, Frank has maintained his quick reflexes and a cool head under pressure when it comes to hexes and defensive spells.
• When he’s in a comfortable situation, Frank radiates an easy charm and confidence. However, comfortable situations seem to be few and far between for Frank.
• Frank has an exceptional memory for historical facts and academic information. However, he’d be damned if he could ever remember a friend’s birthday, try as he might.
• He is a good writer and a gifted artist—not that many people would ever know this to be fact, as he keeps his journal and sketchbook closely guarded by a host of charms and jinxes.
• Generally good natured, with a sharp wit and a wicked sense of humor. “You have to have a sense of humor with the last name Longbottom.”
• This is no doubt incredibly unexpected, but Frank is a great cook, as long as the dishes aren't too complicated. This was a skill that was developed out of necessity--no one would want to savor Augusta Longbottom's cooking.
In a world that knows only hate:
• Frank may, or may not be, indecisive.
• Potions, the N.E.W.T. subject that causes him the most migraines.
• Gah. Girls. Well, one girl in particular, and he tends to make an extraordinary fool out of himself whenever she is around.
• Frequently doubts his own bravery. In fact, he frequently doubts many things about himself.
• Frank is absolutely unable to hold his alcohol well. That guy who was so drunk at the Yule Ball that he threw up on Professor McGonagall’s shoes? Yes, that was Frank.
• After being bullied in his youth, Frank subsequently has very little tolerance for bullies. If there is anything that can make Frank’s temper flare, it would be people who bully others.
• Has some difficulty lowering his defenses around others. He is much more comfortable when postulating as the confident, well adjusted student.
• Not the best public speaker, and occasionally stammers when put in those situations. Don’t expect him to be giving any speeches during graduation.
• Hailing from Newcastle, England, Frank is what's known as a Geordie. This means that the occasionally incomprehensible accent to go along with it. “Aye , Ah knaa tha cos Ah’m frem tha toon Ah’m a Geordie wi an impossible te understand Geordie accent leik… Well, the accent isn’t that bad anymore. I’ve tried to dilute it, a bit. Comes back in stowed force when I have too much firewhiskey, though.” The unique Geordie slang persists, however.
• Knows absolutely nothing about Muggles and their way of life. However, he loves Muggle literature, treating every word that he doesn't understand as something part of a foreign language that he then has to look up.
And causes pain for the soulless like me:
• Frank and his mother are currently estranged. While he and his mother had never been terribly close, they had a major falling out shortly after the death of his father, when Frank made public his desire to take after his late father and become an Auror. His mother was not supportive, calling his decision to become an Auror a “one way ticket to death,” and the two have not spoken much since.
• He bites his nails. However, this is not really that much of a secret if you happen to look at his hands.
• This threatens to shatter his ‘nice guy’ reputation, but he's always kind of wanted a tattoo. Perhaps this is Frank's way of breaking out of the expectations of his family, but he has yet to pick any word, image, or symbol that he likes enough to wear permanently on his body.
• Frank is a smoker, and has been for almost a year. What initially began as a coping mechanism after the death of his father has turned into a habit that he simultaneously needs and loathes. He has tried to quit, always unsuccessfully. Still, he's tried to keep it somewhat under wraps around others, particularly younger students, and tries to only indulge in the habit when alone.

They left me to die:
A whole host of aunts and uncles, but he is not particularly close to them.
On a bed of roses:
Just like his mother, Frank has many aunts and uncles on his father's side, but the only family members that he's close to are Uncle Algie and Aunt Enid, Algie being Ewan's brother. He is also related, through marriage, to most of the pureblood families, notably the Blacks.
Blood seeping through:
Since the death of Ewan Longbottom in 1975, many members of the family have gone into hiding from Death Eaters.
The satin sheets of fame:
The Longbottoms are not particularly wealthy, like the Blacks or the Malfoys, but they manage to get on fairly well, and Frank has never had to want for anything. However, with the death of Ewan, the family has seen a decline in lifestyle, due to losing the main breadwinner of the family.
What a bitter story of love:
Frank was born on December 8th, 1957, and would be the first to tell anyone about the woes of having a December birthday: namely, because a December birthday tends to get only half as many presents for both the birthday and Christmas, or joint presents for both holidays. If something like that seems insignificant, then Frank would argue that it’s because you don’t have a December birthday.

Birthday woes aside, Frank was proud to be a Longbottom, a wizarding family notable for its long line of famed Aurors. Frank could recite with ease from memory the list of Aurors in his family, going back generations, and Frank was always expected to go into the “family business” upon graduating, just like his father. Even though Frank spent most of his childhood being raised by Augusta, as his father was frequently away due to work, he was still every inch his father’s son. Frank hero worshipped his dad and the Longbottom legacy the way that other children idolized celebrities, and despite the looming threat of war, he still held onto the childlike fantasy of the invincible Longbottoms: heroes of the wizarding world. It was a fantasy that was abruptly shattered April of 1975.

Frank’s early childhood was relatively uneventful. He spent his afternoons alternatively catching toads or “playing Auror” with the other wizarding children or, more commonly, trying to escape his overbearing mother, a formidable woman who, while obviously very affectionate and fond of her only son, did not understand the concept of ‘going too far.’ The boy was babied, coddled, and nearly chained to his mother’s apron strings until he received his Hogwarts letter at eleven, and even then it was a wonder that Augusta didn’t insist on accompanying him to his first year of school.

School was difficult for Frank, at least initially. While he made friends easily with the boys in his house, his appearance and limited social skills made him the subject of bullying among older students. Thankfully, this did not last too long, only about until his third year. Once Frank grew out of his awkward preteen years into a somewhat handsome, strong young man with a reputation for doling out nasty hexes to anyone who dared cross him, the bullying stopped and Frank subsequently began to blossom with self confidence, and his popularity grew. The next few years saw the emergence of a well adjusted Frank Longbottom; smart, confident, and well-liked. There was still little he could do in the way of women—he’s been going after the same girl for years, still to no avail—but there still wasn’t much to complain about. He felt like the golden boy of Hogwarts, and in many ways he was, until April 12th, 1975.

There is very little that Frank could say about the death of Ewan Longbottom, famed Auror, that wasn’t detailed in the Daily Prophet, and even now, Frank shies away from discussing his father’s murder. It marked the first time that he was personally affected by the growing violence surrounding the war, and it also served as a brutal awakening as to the reality of what it meant to be an Auror. To his own surprise, Frank realized that day that, despite the dangers, there was nothing in the world that he’d rather do than become an Auror and help win the war, for the sake of his father. It was a decision that left him estranged from much of his family—they were unwilling to entertain the idea of losing yet another Longbottom to You-Know-Who’s reign of terror—but Frank stood firm in his decision, and plunged into his studies in anticipation for his eventual Auror training. Yes, the Frank Longbottom today is a little paler and a little more withdrawn than he had been last year, but he is infinitely more driven.

Frank Longbottom took his studies seriously, particularly when he had his future as an Auror on the line, but that didn’t mean that he avoided parties. Provided his work was done, he always looked forward to blowing off some steam. So, it was with great relief that he heard through the incredibly fast (if occasionally inaccurate) Hogwarts grapevine that someone was having a birthday party in Hogsmeade today. It wasn’t until he began hearing more information about the birthday person that he began to feel the onset of panic. Hold on, it was a girl in his house? In his year? Well, there were only five, and that probably meant…Brie. His stomach dropped like a ton of bricks lobbed over a balcony. Bollocks. Not again.

Frank had forgotten a friend’s birthday. For what seemed like the eightieth time. Fu…runculus. It was a wonder he was still even invited to birthday parties. How was it that he could remember the date of every single goblin rebellion, but he had an absolute inability to remember anyone’s birthday? Not that this was really much of a surprise—he had always been notoriously terrible about friends’ birthdays. This forgetfulness was seemingly magnified sevenfold recently—something about the stress of seventh year combined with his habitual one-track mind since the death of his father had made him almost unaware of anything that didn’t directly pertain to becoming an Auror and living up to his father. Brie’s birthday, very important to him, unfortunately fell into said category, and it was with a degree of shame that he set off towards Hogsmeade, sans birthday present. “Gifts are NOT necessary, my arse,” he mumbled to himself. “Let’s just wait and see when I’m the only one without a gift.”

It was with a further degree of shame that, whilst walking, he reached into his pocket for the all too familiar carton of cigarettes. “Smoking kills,” he said aloud, as if that was supposed to deter him, before lighting up anyway. Perhaps one day he’d heed said mantra and quit, but not now. Plenty of students had worse vices, he reasoned, more than aware that he was making excuses for himself, as there was a large part of himself that was frustrated that something that had initially begun as a coping mechanism for grief had turned into an activity that occupied a fair amount of his thoughts daily. However, the 7th year barely had time to properly chastise himself for his habit before he glimpsed the tent and, not willing to admit that he smoked, he quickly put out the light.

As he approached the tent, Frank instantly made eye contact with the table of presents and cursed so vehemently in his head that if his mother had heard (and if she were a legilimens, thank Merlin she’s not), she would have smacked him with her red handbag. Still, it was with a smile—albeit an embarrassed one—that Frank approached Brieanne. “Happy Birthday!” He said, ruffling his hair absentmindedly as he spoke. “A well deserved party and a chance to relax while in the throes of seventh year, yeah? Oh! Almost forgot!” He proceeded to dig through his pockets, but he quickly processed his last statement and qualified it. “Well, er, rather, I did forget, and— ” He pulled the wrinkled piece of parchment out of his pocket, smoothed it, and handed it to her. “—ah, found it. Here.” Written, in Frank’s neat, cramped handwriting:

Brie,

I owe you one very wonderful birthday present. Don’t let me forget.

-Frank

“Forgive me. I just, er, well—” Not that he really needed to explain what happened. This wasn’t the first time he had blanked on her birthday. “—well, you know. Sorry, Brie.”

[iDorcy]

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