Post by frank on Dec 15, 2010 16:33:46 GMT 1
Ok here he is...though me and Frank are feeling a bit confused about who he is and who he wants to be we both agrred that it would be nice to put this up so people could have a look if they wanted 
What can be found in a name:
Frank Edmond Longbottom
When the day I was born:
21/10/1959 Give me a second to check what year he will be in once I have posted this ;-)
The Angels screamed:
MOTHER: Augusta Longbottom nee Smith
FATHER:: Edmond Longbottom
SIBLINGS: None
And Hell shut its doors:
An eagle Owl.
NAME: Jonny
AND
A weasel.
NAME: Claude
While creatures retreated:
Pure
To depths unknown:
Gryffindor
I hide from them:
From the top of any tower belonging to Hogwarts anyone loking out over the ground would be able to spot the gathered students on the quidditch field showing off new brooms and moves in the air but it was only if one looked toward the lake that they would spot a boy hovering in the middle of the lake, dodging the squids tentacles ever now and then as the harmless creature tried to initiate a game.
Be who they want to see:
- Eye colour: Brown…and sometimes black.
- Body build: Slim/Athletic even though the only sport or exercise Frank does is running to class on the days he oversleeps (which is often and so this mystery is solved!)
- Scars: If you were to lift his bangs from the left of his face you would see a small jagged scar running from Frank’s hair line to the edge of his eye brow. It’s a reminded of the first time he tried to pull off a stunt he had seen his favourite seeker do…Franks attempt ended with him being banned from flying for a full summer by his overly protective mother and this scar.
- Tattoo's: The symbol of the Deathly Hollows on his right hip. Ever since he had heard of the tale as a child he had been interested in it and so when the idea to visit the muggle world last summer was made a reality he convinced his Uncle Algie to let him get the symbol tattooed on his person…Frank loved the idea of hunting down the hollows and being their master even if he had no wish to own them himself.
- The Something Else: Frank has light brown hair that he prefers kept short and out of his face, as well as dark eyes. His eyes are his favourite feature, and he goes to great lengths to show them off... thus the shorter hair. He has a square-set jaw and a mostly symmetric face, though his nose is a bit crooked as a result of his time as a Beater on the Gryffindor Quidditch team while at Hogwarts
- FASHION: For the most part, Frank's ensemble consists of wizards robes in various dark colours; navy, black, gray, forest green, chocolate brown. Though he wears dark colours, they are by no means drab; in fact, they are very rich in hue. He likes to wear any robe other then his school robes. And he does as often as he can get away with it.
When Frank does don Muggle clothing, it is sometimes a bit of a disaster. Try as he may, he can never get the fashions just right, so his default is usually just a plain cotton t-shirt, a pair of jeans, and running shoes.
ALSO IT SHOULD BE NOTED: That it is not often Frank can be seen without the fur ball that is Claude wrapped around his neck or hiding asleep in one of his pockets. And since the little weasel never makes a sound in class the Professors don't both him to much about it.
But that leaves no one:
xXx
To discover that inside:
Personality: If there is anything you need to know about Frank it is here: he is courteous, and often soft-spoken and shy (especially around women). However, he is a true Gryffindor; he stands up for what he believes in, never abandons his friends, and has a bloody good time doing it! Amongst his friends, he’s also competitive to a fault and frequently argumentative, almost always certain that his opinion is the most correct. He isn’t clever in the sense that he’s full of wit, or charms, or graces that some of his male peers seem to have been given at birth – but he’s clever in the sense that he can probably say the exact thing to make a situation better or worse.
He's always up for a night on the town with the boys, but staying in is just as eagerly looked forward to.
In general, Frank is the type of bloke that may strike up a friendly conversation with just about anyone.
He’s a regular boy of his age group, with regular mistakes and regular yearnings with perhaps just a little more interest in the logic of the world.
He’s strong-willed, and determined. He’s brave, and loyal. He’s not perfect, but he tries to be. This is a constant battle for him – the rational and irrational, his compassion and the world’s lack of it, and all that emotional mumbo jumbo he deals with so clumsily.
This soulless being:
LIKES:
- He loves his family. His mother is slightly crazy, his father is placating, and if it wasn’t for his ‘laid back’ uncle (who spent more time with this family then his own that he had his own coffee cup in the kitchen cupboard right next to Franks cereal bowl) he’d be running around like a chicken with his head cut off. It’d be messy. No good.
- Alice. xXx
- Cigarettes, unfortunately. He's not proud of it.
- Gardening and generally being outside
- Rainy days. He loves running through puddles, but hates muddy shoes. Paradox.
Is just as lost:
DISLIKES:
- Lines
- Waiting in lines
- Vanilla flavoured things, Spearmint and mushrooms. “Separately, obviously, but they would be equally gross together.”
- Wild Animals and any encounter with such animals he may have.
- 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.
- THE FIRST DAY OF A HAIRCUT! When it looks nice in the shop and the next morning when you wash and dry it, it NEVER looks as good as the hair assistant made it look!!
As everyone else:
STRENGTHS:
- Academics – he is an ambitious student with a knack for focusing and pulling things up at the last minute. He can go through all-nighters like it’s his job and he never looks tired the next day during classes. While not a natural student in all his subjects, what he lacks for in natural abilities he makes up for in practice. He’s the kind of guy that’s intelligent but not overtly, and won’t spout out academic trivia or makes obscure references.
- Patience. Patience like you wouldn't believe.
- 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.”
- 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.
- Dueling. Frank has ALWAYS wanted to be an Auror so it makes sense that he would practice and practice some more until he had no problem disarming his uncle or an other family member willing to let him practice on them.
Frank has quick reflexes and a cool head under pressure when it comes to hexes and defensive spells.
In a world that knows only hate:
WEAKNESSES:
- Frank may, or may not be, indecisive.
- He can’t stand being presented with a situation, individual, or idea that doesn’t make sense. He indulges in theories, but prefers fact. He’ll experiment on occasion but only because he wants to test ideas that will lead to solid answers – he can’t leave things unsettled because that unsettles him.
- Girls - Oh my god, he’s useless. He’s so utterly shit at flirting, at taking hints, at being at all anything other than rubbish with them that it‘s sometimes painful to watch. He likes them, girls, he’s just oblivious. Inept. One time he tried to tell a girl her eyes were pretty and he ended up blurting out, “You know possums play dead to escape their predators! Yeah…”
- Control issues. If there is one trait he gleaned from his mother, it's the need to have a constant sense of control. Frank always wants to be in the lead no matter what the challenge, leading to his placement as Prefect in his fifth year and hopefully Head Boy in his seventh.
(Some may call it OCD or Control Freak Syndrome; Frank likes to call it assertive leadership and well-structured organization.)
- He has picked up a bad habit. He blames his uncle COMPLETELY. During their two night stay in muggle London (the same trip he got his deathly hollows tattoo) the older Longbottom introduced Frank to muggle cigs. In a fit of bordom Frank agreed to try one with a bottle of what his Uncle said the muggles called “volko” which was a clear liquid that tasted like dirty socks and smelled like a potions ingredient. Now when he can the almost 18 year old sneaks off to have a quick cig in a hidden classroom with his head hanging out the window so the smell of the smoke doesn't travel through the school or stick to much to his clothing.
- Frank is absolutely unable to hold his alcohol well.
Did you hear about that guy who was so drunk at the Yule Ball that he threw up on Professor McGonagall’s shoes? Yes, that was Frank.
And causes pain for the soulless like me:
SECRET 1: Frank once had a sexual dream about Professor Flitwick...and it involved a very large wand.
SECRET 2: Frank once walked in on his parents having sex in the kitchen (without their knowledge), he will now never sit at a certain side of the table. He has sometimes stood instead of sitting there.
They left me to die:
MOTHER: Augusta Longbottom nee Smith
- 30 years
- She worked as a journalist for a while after school but now works as a book reviewer/critic.
- Augusta was crazy sometimes. (This is Gran, after all, the woman who’ll one day raise Neville Longbottom)
- She wore large hats that were embarrassing to everyone but her.
- She demanded bargains at shops for items that weren’t sale-priced.
- She was strong-willed, unwavering.
GRANDMOTHER: Lady Dorothy Smith nee Dickens
- Deseased
- Never worked in an official capacity but she did develop a few well known cleaning charms.
GRANDFATHER: Lord Derwent Smith
- Deseased
- Had his own business that brought land at discounted prices and built housing on it to sell to the magical community.
AUNTS: None.
UNCLES: Algie Smith
- 33 years
- Took over the family business but took on an assistant that seems to do most of the wrok while Algie relaxes in his sisters home and keeps Frank company during the summer while his parents work.
COUSINS: None
On a bed of roses:
FATHER: Edmond Longbottom
- 31 years
- Is an international relations officer between the UK and the rest of Europe; he is one of a group of 6.
GRANDMOTHER: Lady Francesca Longbottom nee Black
- 57 years
- Doesn’t work
GRANDFATHER: Lord Hayron Longbottom
- 31 years
- Is a partner in a wizarding law firm located in Diagon Alley
AUNTS: Sophie Longbottom
- 27 years
- Is training to be a healer at St. Mungos
UNCLES: Nicholas Longbottom
- 33 years
- He is a law wizard like his father but has a side job as a book critic that he picked up off Lady Smith before she and her husband were killed by an unknown group of wizards.
COUSINS: Louis Longbottom
- 16 years
- Son of Sophie Longbottom. Sophie isn’t telling anyone who the father is.
- He attends Hogwarts…He is in Slytherin.
Blood seeping through:
FAMILY SECRET……………….
The satin sheets of fame:
Rich
What a bitter story of love:
He was born at four minutes past 10 in the evening of October the 21st, he had a full head of brown curley hair and black eyes that everyone said were off some great great great grandfather on his fathers side; but Frank had never paid it much mind; his eyes often changed between the black he was born with and a light brown, he figured that even tually his eyes would settle on a colour when he hit is maturity if not before. For now he was ok being a bit different. Growing up in a purely magical household Frank was quick to show his first signs of magic. At the age of 18 months he had mastered floating the toys he wanted to play with to him rather than screaming until his parents figured out what he wanted; it was for this that he was considered a quiet child.
By the time Frank turned 5 the whole family had been on the receiving end of the small boys accidental magic; everyone had at one point had their hair turned a different colour. It was the evening after Franks 6th birthday that the whole family had been sitting around the dinner table when Frank had burst into song “Red and yellow and pink and green! Orange and purple and blue!” Watching the small boy in amusement it took the group of adults a while to notice that each of them had hair in a colour of a rainbow. After this day the Longbotom took more care to check their persons over before they left the house each morning in case they had purple skin or green hair.
It was only later that year that the family found out that Frank had an imaginary friend; it wasn’t something uncommon for an only child but it was uncommon for a boy such as Frank who met up with a group of other magical children his own age every other day. The imaginary friend was in fact an animal, a badger to be exact that he had fondly named Penelope. He had this friend until he turned 8 at which point he stopped talking to her or at least he stopped mentioning her to his family…maybe it was because his uncle got him a weasel for his 8th birthday that had taken one look at the short curly hair boy and immediately curled itself around his neck.
At the age of 9 Frank had developed a love for the plants that grew around the family estates and so had taken to following the hired gardener around the grounds and dictating how to correctly take care of the plants in a tone of voice that only a 9 year old who thought he knew better could achieve.
His father was placating, easy-going. He could deflate his mother’s tempers with a single smile. Frank wonders, sometimes, if Angela was so much like her father if that meant he must be so much like his mother. Sometimes, he thought, they were the same person. In her quiet moments, he’d watched how his mother’s eyebrow would wrinkle bent over a crossword puzzle or a particularly large book. She welcomed the challenge. It was what made her such an excellent Cursebreaker. She was fearless, he thought, but he wasn’t. But they analyzed the world in the same ways, and he could sense that, sometimes thoughtlessly hurting the people around them in the crusade to keep them safe. They would share this in common more and more as he grew older.
At Hogwarts he was sorted into Gryffindor, something he didn’t understand, especially not as his sister was carted off to Hufflepuff. The separation was new and unwelcome. But he fit in. To his surprise, the weeks slid by, and he was more and more at home. He wasn’t the funniest, kindest, or cleverest but he was Frank Longbottom -- average at all three of those things, but above excellent at being a friend.
Frank was mediocre at everything, he was a fair player at Quidditch, a fair reader, a fair runner, a fair swimmer, a fair dancer. He was so simply just average at everything that one day he decided he would be better than average at everything. So he pushed himself, as he continues to, to improve. He became stronger, faster. It was all just average, but it was better than average too. In his strange way, Frank felt triumphant.
It’s a little bit like he’s waiting still, like he hasn’t hatched. He overanalyzes so much of the world, that it cripples him. He lives in logic, in how the pieces fit. It’s as though that moment in which he spreads his wings for the first time is just on the horizon, smoldering softly beneath the surface. He’ll do something important. Something not average. Soon, at least. Soon.
HEHE! Poor Frank!
Nickname: Ginger
How You Found Us: Google
Contact Via: See Andrew Elliot DeVerde’s Application.
How You Found Us: Google
Contact Via: See Andrew Elliot DeVerde’s Application.
What can be found in a name:
Frank Edmond Longbottom
When the day I was born:
21/10/1959 Give me a second to check what year he will be in once I have posted this ;-)
The Angels screamed:
MOTHER: Augusta Longbottom nee Smith
FATHER:: Edmond Longbottom
SIBLINGS: None
And Hell shut its doors:
An eagle Owl.
NAME: Jonny
AND
A weasel.
NAME: Claude
While creatures retreated:
Pure
To depths unknown:
Gryffindor
I hide from them:
From the top of any tower belonging to Hogwarts anyone loking out over the ground would be able to spot the gathered students on the quidditch field showing off new brooms and moves in the air but it was only if one looked toward the lake that they would spot a boy hovering in the middle of the lake, dodging the squids tentacles ever now and then as the harmless creature tried to initiate a game.
Be who they want to see:
- Eye colour: Brown…and sometimes black.
- Body build: Slim/Athletic even though the only sport or exercise Frank does is running to class on the days he oversleeps (which is often and so this mystery is solved!)
- Scars: If you were to lift his bangs from the left of his face you would see a small jagged scar running from Frank’s hair line to the edge of his eye brow. It’s a reminded of the first time he tried to pull off a stunt he had seen his favourite seeker do…Franks attempt ended with him being banned from flying for a full summer by his overly protective mother and this scar.
- Tattoo's: The symbol of the Deathly Hollows on his right hip. Ever since he had heard of the tale as a child he had been interested in it and so when the idea to visit the muggle world last summer was made a reality he convinced his Uncle Algie to let him get the symbol tattooed on his person…Frank loved the idea of hunting down the hollows and being their master even if he had no wish to own them himself.
- The Something Else: Frank has light brown hair that he prefers kept short and out of his face, as well as dark eyes. His eyes are his favourite feature, and he goes to great lengths to show them off... thus the shorter hair. He has a square-set jaw and a mostly symmetric face, though his nose is a bit crooked as a result of his time as a Beater on the Gryffindor Quidditch team while at Hogwarts
- FASHION: For the most part, Frank's ensemble consists of wizards robes in various dark colours; navy, black, gray, forest green, chocolate brown. Though he wears dark colours, they are by no means drab; in fact, they are very rich in hue. He likes to wear any robe other then his school robes. And he does as often as he can get away with it.
When Frank does don Muggle clothing, it is sometimes a bit of a disaster. Try as he may, he can never get the fashions just right, so his default is usually just a plain cotton t-shirt, a pair of jeans, and running shoes.
ALSO IT SHOULD BE NOTED: That it is not often Frank can be seen without the fur ball that is Claude wrapped around his neck or hiding asleep in one of his pockets. And since the little weasel never makes a sound in class the Professors don't both him to much about it.
But that leaves no one:
xXxTo discover that inside:
Personality: If there is anything you need to know about Frank it is here: he is courteous, and often soft-spoken and shy (especially around women). However, he is a true Gryffindor; he stands up for what he believes in, never abandons his friends, and has a bloody good time doing it! Amongst his friends, he’s also competitive to a fault and frequently argumentative, almost always certain that his opinion is the most correct. He isn’t clever in the sense that he’s full of wit, or charms, or graces that some of his male peers seem to have been given at birth – but he’s clever in the sense that he can probably say the exact thing to make a situation better or worse.
He's always up for a night on the town with the boys, but staying in is just as eagerly looked forward to.
In general, Frank is the type of bloke that may strike up a friendly conversation with just about anyone.
He’s a regular boy of his age group, with regular mistakes and regular yearnings with perhaps just a little more interest in the logic of the world.
He’s strong-willed, and determined. He’s brave, and loyal. He’s not perfect, but he tries to be. This is a constant battle for him – the rational and irrational, his compassion and the world’s lack of it, and all that emotional mumbo jumbo he deals with so clumsily.
This soulless being:
LIKES:
- He loves his family. His mother is slightly crazy, his father is placating, and if it wasn’t for his ‘laid back’ uncle (who spent more time with this family then his own that he had his own coffee cup in the kitchen cupboard right next to Franks cereal bowl) he’d be running around like a chicken with his head cut off. It’d be messy. No good.
- Alice. xXx
- Cigarettes, unfortunately. He's not proud of it.
- Gardening and generally being outside
- Rainy days. He loves running through puddles, but hates muddy shoes. Paradox.
Is just as lost:
DISLIKES:
- Lines
- Waiting in lines
- Vanilla flavoured things, Spearmint and mushrooms. “Separately, obviously, but they would be equally gross together.”
- Wild Animals and any encounter with such animals he may have.
- 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.
- THE FIRST DAY OF A HAIRCUT! When it looks nice in the shop and the next morning when you wash and dry it, it NEVER looks as good as the hair assistant made it look!!
As everyone else:
STRENGTHS:
- Academics – he is an ambitious student with a knack for focusing and pulling things up at the last minute. He can go through all-nighters like it’s his job and he never looks tired the next day during classes. While not a natural student in all his subjects, what he lacks for in natural abilities he makes up for in practice. He’s the kind of guy that’s intelligent but not overtly, and won’t spout out academic trivia or makes obscure references.
- Patience. Patience like you wouldn't believe.
- 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.”
- 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.
- Dueling. Frank has ALWAYS wanted to be an Auror so it makes sense that he would practice and practice some more until he had no problem disarming his uncle or an other family member willing to let him practice on them.
Frank has quick reflexes and a cool head under pressure when it comes to hexes and defensive spells.
In a world that knows only hate:
WEAKNESSES:
- Frank may, or may not be, indecisive.
- He can’t stand being presented with a situation, individual, or idea that doesn’t make sense. He indulges in theories, but prefers fact. He’ll experiment on occasion but only because he wants to test ideas that will lead to solid answers – he can’t leave things unsettled because that unsettles him.
- Girls - Oh my god, he’s useless. He’s so utterly shit at flirting, at taking hints, at being at all anything other than rubbish with them that it‘s sometimes painful to watch. He likes them, girls, he’s just oblivious. Inept. One time he tried to tell a girl her eyes were pretty and he ended up blurting out, “You know possums play dead to escape their predators! Yeah…”
- Control issues. If there is one trait he gleaned from his mother, it's the need to have a constant sense of control. Frank always wants to be in the lead no matter what the challenge, leading to his placement as Prefect in his fifth year and hopefully Head Boy in his seventh.
(Some may call it OCD or Control Freak Syndrome; Frank likes to call it assertive leadership and well-structured organization.)
- He has picked up a bad habit. He blames his uncle COMPLETELY. During their two night stay in muggle London (the same trip he got his deathly hollows tattoo) the older Longbottom introduced Frank to muggle cigs. In a fit of bordom Frank agreed to try one with a bottle of what his Uncle said the muggles called “volko” which was a clear liquid that tasted like dirty socks and smelled like a potions ingredient. Now when he can the almost 18 year old sneaks off to have a quick cig in a hidden classroom with his head hanging out the window so the smell of the smoke doesn't travel through the school or stick to much to his clothing.
- Frank is absolutely unable to hold his alcohol well.
Did you hear about that guy who was so drunk at the Yule Ball that he threw up on Professor McGonagall’s shoes? Yes, that was Frank.
And causes pain for the soulless like me:
SECRET 1: Frank once had a sexual dream about Professor Flitwick...and it involved a very large wand.
SECRET 2: Frank once walked in on his parents having sex in the kitchen (without their knowledge), he will now never sit at a certain side of the table. He has sometimes stood instead of sitting there.
They left me to die:
MOTHER: Augusta Longbottom nee Smith
- 30 years
- She worked as a journalist for a while after school but now works as a book reviewer/critic.
- Augusta was crazy sometimes. (This is Gran, after all, the woman who’ll one day raise Neville Longbottom)
- She wore large hats that were embarrassing to everyone but her.
- She demanded bargains at shops for items that weren’t sale-priced.
- She was strong-willed, unwavering.
GRANDMOTHER: Lady Dorothy Smith nee Dickens
- Deseased
- Never worked in an official capacity but she did develop a few well known cleaning charms.
GRANDFATHER: Lord Derwent Smith
- Deseased
- Had his own business that brought land at discounted prices and built housing on it to sell to the magical community.
AUNTS: None.
UNCLES: Algie Smith
- 33 years
- Took over the family business but took on an assistant that seems to do most of the wrok while Algie relaxes in his sisters home and keeps Frank company during the summer while his parents work.
COUSINS: None
On a bed of roses:
FATHER: Edmond Longbottom
- 31 years
- Is an international relations officer between the UK and the rest of Europe; he is one of a group of 6.
GRANDMOTHER: Lady Francesca Longbottom nee Black
- 57 years
- Doesn’t work
GRANDFATHER: Lord Hayron Longbottom
- 31 years
- Is a partner in a wizarding law firm located in Diagon Alley
AUNTS: Sophie Longbottom
- 27 years
- Is training to be a healer at St. Mungos
UNCLES: Nicholas Longbottom
- 33 years
- He is a law wizard like his father but has a side job as a book critic that he picked up off Lady Smith before she and her husband were killed by an unknown group of wizards.
COUSINS: Louis Longbottom
- 16 years
- Son of Sophie Longbottom. Sophie isn’t telling anyone who the father is.
- He attends Hogwarts…He is in Slytherin.
Blood seeping through:
FAMILY SECRET……………….
The satin sheets of fame:
Rich
What a bitter story of love:
He was born at four minutes past 10 in the evening of October the 21st, he had a full head of brown curley hair and black eyes that everyone said were off some great great great grandfather on his fathers side; but Frank had never paid it much mind; his eyes often changed between the black he was born with and a light brown, he figured that even tually his eyes would settle on a colour when he hit is maturity if not before. For now he was ok being a bit different. Growing up in a purely magical household Frank was quick to show his first signs of magic. At the age of 18 months he had mastered floating the toys he wanted to play with to him rather than screaming until his parents figured out what he wanted; it was for this that he was considered a quiet child.
By the time Frank turned 5 the whole family had been on the receiving end of the small boys accidental magic; everyone had at one point had their hair turned a different colour. It was the evening after Franks 6th birthday that the whole family had been sitting around the dinner table when Frank had burst into song “Red and yellow and pink and green! Orange and purple and blue!” Watching the small boy in amusement it took the group of adults a while to notice that each of them had hair in a colour of a rainbow. After this day the Longbotom took more care to check their persons over before they left the house each morning in case they had purple skin or green hair.
It was only later that year that the family found out that Frank had an imaginary friend; it wasn’t something uncommon for an only child but it was uncommon for a boy such as Frank who met up with a group of other magical children his own age every other day. The imaginary friend was in fact an animal, a badger to be exact that he had fondly named Penelope. He had this friend until he turned 8 at which point he stopped talking to her or at least he stopped mentioning her to his family…maybe it was because his uncle got him a weasel for his 8th birthday that had taken one look at the short curly hair boy and immediately curled itself around his neck.
At the age of 9 Frank had developed a love for the plants that grew around the family estates and so had taken to following the hired gardener around the grounds and dictating how to correctly take care of the plants in a tone of voice that only a 9 year old who thought he knew better could achieve.
His father was placating, easy-going. He could deflate his mother’s tempers with a single smile. Frank wonders, sometimes, if Angela was so much like her father if that meant he must be so much like his mother. Sometimes, he thought, they were the same person. In her quiet moments, he’d watched how his mother’s eyebrow would wrinkle bent over a crossword puzzle or a particularly large book. She welcomed the challenge. It was what made her such an excellent Cursebreaker. She was fearless, he thought, but he wasn’t. But they analyzed the world in the same ways, and he could sense that, sometimes thoughtlessly hurting the people around them in the crusade to keep them safe. They would share this in common more and more as he grew older.
At Hogwarts he was sorted into Gryffindor, something he didn’t understand, especially not as his sister was carted off to Hufflepuff. The separation was new and unwelcome. But he fit in. To his surprise, the weeks slid by, and he was more and more at home. He wasn’t the funniest, kindest, or cleverest but he was Frank Longbottom -- average at all three of those things, but above excellent at being a friend.
Frank was mediocre at everything, he was a fair player at Quidditch, a fair reader, a fair runner, a fair swimmer, a fair dancer. He was so simply just average at everything that one day he decided he would be better than average at everything. So he pushed himself, as he continues to, to improve. He became stronger, faster. It was all just average, but it was better than average too. In his strange way, Frank felt triumphant.
It’s a little bit like he’s waiting still, like he hasn’t hatched. He overanalyzes so much of the world, that it cripples him. He lives in logic, in how the pieces fit. It’s as though that moment in which he spreads his wings for the first time is just on the horizon, smoldering softly beneath the surface. He’ll do something important. Something not average. Soon, at least. Soon.
Frank loved being a prefect, but not necessarily for the reasons that one might think. Sure, he (or rather, his Grandfather on his fathers side) liked the prestige and recognition that came with the badge, but the thing that Frank liked most was, oddly enough, patrols. Most of the time, unless those Gryffindors a year below him were acting up, prefect patrols were quiet, uneventful, and allowed him the unique opportunity to explore the castle in the evenings. Yes, it was the perfect way to relax and unwind after busy days filled with studying, classes, and the beloved, though exhausting, antics of his friends. However, the quiet and solitude associated with patrols also meant that Frank spent most of his time with a cigarette, not wand, in his hand.
Bad habit, Frank. Quit, he thought to himself, slowly exhaling as he rounded the next corridor, finding to be just as empty as the one he had just left.
As the watch on his hand approached midnight, Frank was about to write off the evening as yet another uneventful prefect patrol before he heard what sounded like a girl shouting. His eyebrows narrowing, trying to focus on the location of the sound, Frank began walking towards the girl’s voice, his pace increasing. Surely the girl wasn’t hurt? What if she was calling for help? What if—no, he reasoned as he began closing the distance between himself and the voice, she was repeating something. It was probably just a student practicing magic after hours, technically against the rules, but Frank wasn’t really one to take away points. No, he’d just remind the girl of the curfew and get back to his own business. No harm done, no points taken away, just—“Alice!”—he breathed wordlessly as he approached the door to the empty classroom, finally recognizing the voice. Suddenly, he couldn’t even remember what he had been thinking about previously, and he remained frozen in front of the door, debating on whether or not to enter. She was here! Alone! He could talk to her!—maybe. Maybe he could, with no one around. But what if he startled her? Oh, she’d think him a right idiot then, wouldn’t she? Plagued with anxiety, Frank leaned his forehead against the solid wood of the door and took a deep breath with his eyes closed, his hands trembling so that his cigarette had long since been discarded on the floor. “Frank, you nutter,” he whispered to himself. “Get a hold of yourself. Just relax. It’s nothi—“ a particularly loud shout then emanated from behind the door, startling him so that he, out of sheer shock and surprise, leaned too much on the barely ajar door. The infernal thing proceeded to swing open with about as much subtlety as a brick, and subsequently a nervous, palefaced Frank Longbottom found himself face to face with the love of his life. Wonderful, Frank. No, really, this is genius.
“Ah, um, sorry. ah divvnae mean to--I mean, Ah heard summat, and...nothing. Ah’m sorry. Ah’m just goin’ to...idiot. No, me! Not you! Merlin, I...” Breaking eye contact, Frank ran a nervous hand through his hair, took a deep breath, and mumbled to the floor, “Sorry, I’ll just go, yeah?” With that, Frank turned rather clumsily on his heels and began heading back to the door. However, something—bravery? Foolishness?—made him pause briefly in the doorway. She was doing a hex that he knew something about, and if she was having trouble, then…maybe he could help. If he could actually talk to her without getting sick on his shoes. Somehow, it was easier to talk to her if he wasn’t staring into those beautiful eyes…
“Er...The spell would turn out a little better if you, if you, um, put more emphasis on the first syllable, but don't drag out the end bit. It's a stunning spell, you know? You want the incantation itself to be sharp, cos tha' will give you more velocity an distance to yer spell. Like firin’ an arrow, if you want to think of it like tha'. Quick an sharp. Not gonna stun properly if you drag out the saying of the spell.” Briefly considering the notion that perhaps Alice didn’t exactly want a lecture at some god-awful hour in the morning, Frank bit his lip—where were his cigarettes when he needed them?—and continued for the door. “Sorry. Goin’.”
Bad habit, Frank. Quit, he thought to himself, slowly exhaling as he rounded the next corridor, finding to be just as empty as the one he had just left.
As the watch on his hand approached midnight, Frank was about to write off the evening as yet another uneventful prefect patrol before he heard what sounded like a girl shouting. His eyebrows narrowing, trying to focus on the location of the sound, Frank began walking towards the girl’s voice, his pace increasing. Surely the girl wasn’t hurt? What if she was calling for help? What if—no, he reasoned as he began closing the distance between himself and the voice, she was repeating something. It was probably just a student practicing magic after hours, technically against the rules, but Frank wasn’t really one to take away points. No, he’d just remind the girl of the curfew and get back to his own business. No harm done, no points taken away, just—“Alice!”—he breathed wordlessly as he approached the door to the empty classroom, finally recognizing the voice. Suddenly, he couldn’t even remember what he had been thinking about previously, and he remained frozen in front of the door, debating on whether or not to enter. She was here! Alone! He could talk to her!—maybe. Maybe he could, with no one around. But what if he startled her? Oh, she’d think him a right idiot then, wouldn’t she? Plagued with anxiety, Frank leaned his forehead against the solid wood of the door and took a deep breath with his eyes closed, his hands trembling so that his cigarette had long since been discarded on the floor. “Frank, you nutter,” he whispered to himself. “Get a hold of yourself. Just relax. It’s nothi—“ a particularly loud shout then emanated from behind the door, startling him so that he, out of sheer shock and surprise, leaned too much on the barely ajar door. The infernal thing proceeded to swing open with about as much subtlety as a brick, and subsequently a nervous, palefaced Frank Longbottom found himself face to face with the love of his life. Wonderful, Frank. No, really, this is genius.
“Ah, um, sorry. ah divvnae mean to--I mean, Ah heard summat, and...nothing. Ah’m sorry. Ah’m just goin’ to...idiot. No, me! Not you! Merlin, I...” Breaking eye contact, Frank ran a nervous hand through his hair, took a deep breath, and mumbled to the floor, “Sorry, I’ll just go, yeah?” With that, Frank turned rather clumsily on his heels and began heading back to the door. However, something—bravery? Foolishness?—made him pause briefly in the doorway. She was doing a hex that he knew something about, and if she was having trouble, then…maybe he could help. If he could actually talk to her without getting sick on his shoes. Somehow, it was easier to talk to her if he wasn’t staring into those beautiful eyes…
“Er...The spell would turn out a little better if you, if you, um, put more emphasis on the first syllable, but don't drag out the end bit. It's a stunning spell, you know? You want the incantation itself to be sharp, cos tha' will give you more velocity an distance to yer spell. Like firin’ an arrow, if you want to think of it like tha'. Quick an sharp. Not gonna stun properly if you drag out the saying of the spell.” Briefly considering the notion that perhaps Alice didn’t exactly want a lecture at some god-awful hour in the morning, Frank bit his lip—where were his cigarettes when he needed them?—and continued for the door. “Sorry. Goin’.”
HEHE! Poor Frank!
