frankalgielongbottom-blog

[frankalgielongbottom-blog]

Frank just can't grab a hold of this, cannot find his footing on this ground. Bellatrix. Bellatrix who they grew up with, who they played with and came to Hogwarts with, who they were going to leave Hogwarts with, or so he had always believed, always taken for granted. Bellatrix who they knew. Or Alice did, apparently. No, no, Frank knew his friend, their friend, she wasn't this. She couldn't possibly be this.

Yet she was. The fact was staring him in the face, Alice just points it out. In her words, she is not only accusing Bella, she is accusing him to, of lying, of denying, of deceiving himself and of these crimes Frank is guilty. Guilty as their corrupted companion. That's the way he appears now, his guilt pervades his very posture - Frank's shoulders slump, his gaze drills into the ground, he hangs his head. He looks defeated, he looks shameful, he looks spineless.

Who is this boy? This man?

Frank Longbottom tries to surpass the stranger. The Frank of unwavering hope, of unstoppable loyalty, of forceful delusion raises his voice. "She's different, sure, she can be a little meaner, cruel, sometimes, but not that, Alice. Not that. You know it. You know her, just as well as I do." His eyes, his tone plead with her but Alice marches on, beats down his insubstantial points with her reason and the evident fact that she says none of this to hurt him, though she knows that it must and therefore, Alice would never say such a thing to Frank were it not necessary. Still, he can't do it. His fingers knot into his curls as Frank sighs shakily. Then the frustration, the emotion, the inability builds and builds up inside him until he's shouting, "What if I am? What if I want to be? What if you're seeing things that aren't there? No. You can't be right, Alice, you can't. I'm not pretending, it just that that can't be."

Forbidden Forest → December 1, 1976

[frankalgielongbottom-blog]

He’s more myself than I am. Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.

Emily Brontë, Wuthering Heights (via said-alice-to-the-queen)

[frankalgielongbottom-blog]

In triumph, Frank does a miniature fist pump at her sigh. Usually, he is rather intuitive around Alice. He knows when to bugger off, knows when she just needs a bit of coaxing, needs a break. It is a sense that developed due to years of practice but seems to be a little off at the moment. Frank honestly wasn't sure whether or not she was coming despite the act he put on that would have informed Alice otherwise.

"Might as well, oh so nonchalant. Don't act like you aren't excited." He bumps his side back against hers, as it is his turn, as this is the back and forth game that they play. What these ventures into the forbidden forest typically entail are cause for excitement - there is exploration of the wood they know like the back of their hands now, until they discover that little something new. With every escapade, they go in a little deeper, pushing the boundaries of their bravery as far as they can. And in doing so, they have a lengthy catch-up. All of this tires the two out, so they sit down, so they fall asleep in the branch of a tree, if only for a little while.

But Frank has a particular incentive for this venture. He has something to tell Alice. The thought of it exhausts his brain, Frank is focused, that is until she utterly stuns him. The only reaction he can muster is to stare.

To stare without understanding, without absorbing. This is not Alice that has playfully shoved his side with hers, this is a battering-ram to the unsuspecting Frank. That what he is in this moment - unsuspecting. "Alice, what are you? Don't say that...don't be so silly." His eyes regard her with sheer horror before he walks briskly on.

Forbidden Forest → December 1, 1976

[frankalgielongbottom-blog]

"What's in it for a lazy sod like me? Today, at least."

Grounds || Dec 2 1976

"Well, are you coming?"

[frankalgielongbottom-blog]

"Agreed. Right. I'm gonna dispose of this safely...somehow."

Amelia take a sniff of the bottle, pulling away almost instantly, her face crinkling in disgust. “No,” she shook her head “I don’t think the smell is meant to almost kill someone.”

[frankalgielongbottom-blog]

"Your! You desperately need your Watson. There isn't a vacancy or anything, at least, I hope not."

Frank joins in her laughter after a brief moment, unable to resist it for long, not even after being beaten. "I wouldn't accept your pity y'know...only you make such an excellent point. Yeah, yeah, your memory's tip-top, Char, we get it."

Courtyard || 2nd December, 1976

[frankalgielongbottom-blog]

I love you. Remember. They cannot take it.

Lauren Oliver, Delirium (via said-alice-to-the-queen)

[frankalgielongbottom-blog]

"Ah yes, of course? Of course. Still wondering about the 'why' of the attack, are you?

"You're not allowed to win the challenge and then rub it in, Charity. No." He shouts at her in agitation, but it is faux and he is laughing within the next second. "Well done, I suppose. Conrgats, you big prat...I reckon I might be a sore loser."

Courtyard || 2nd December, 1976

[frankalgielongbottom-blog]

"You make it impossible not to, rest assured."

"So, what? Isn't that a bit hypocritical? You're allowed to be a boundary pusher in order to think and the rest of us aren't? Abuse of your powers, Alice, never thought I'd see the day. But um, while you're here...you might as well push the boat out and abuse them some more?" He trails off a little further into the forest, to see if she will follow.

Forbidden Forest → December 1, 1976

[frankalgielongbottom-blog]

White

White: 3 facts about my personality

It may not be perceptible, he might not seem like the kind to do so, but Frank often thinks before he speaks. In fact, it has gotten to the stage where he does not need much reflection on what he wants to say, his reticence with his true thoughts and feelings has developed so much so that there is a filter, sieving what he cannot say from what he can. Of course, there are exceptions to the rule. There are those who understand as they are in the same situation, there are others he can just trust even if they aren't and then there's someone who just scrambles his brain into saying things sometimes and would hear some of his inner thoughts even if she weren't in the exact same predicament and possession of his absolute trust. Frank hides thoughts even from her though, or tries to, at any rate.

Something that goes hand in hand with Frank's tendency not to speak his mind is what he chooses to say instead - always he is making a joke, endeavoring to keep the atmosphere light despite the weight which incessantly beats down on it. He believes in keeping things light when he possibly can, while he still can.

Above all, above everything that has passed and everything that will come to pass, Frank's hope is unwavering and untouchable.

[frankalgielongbottom-blog]

Black.

Black: 1 fact about the person I like

She can scare me sometimes, but the way I feel about her can scare me even more.

[frankalgielongbottom-blog]

black & yellow

Black:1 fact about the person I like

     1.  Either I’ve grown, or her bedroom window has gotten smaller.

Yellow: 7 facts about my childhood

Frank had two older brothers that loved him dearly but weren’t nearly so fond of spending time with him. This was nothing personal and the young boy understood it – he was too young to comprehend the rules of or enjoy their games and they lacked the patience and childish imagination required for his. Consequently, Frank fashioned an imaginary friend to run his ideas past and to crack jokes to, who went by the name of Olly.

Olly was made redundant by actual friends, however. When he snuck out of that first pureblood soiree, he discovered he was not the only one who longed for fresh air and a kind of fun more suited to them. The day Frank learned to be a friend was also the day he learned to be a leader, so he associated the two with each other and perhaps this lead to his success in the roles. He was more than a little surprised by both prospects, due to the fact that he was so accustomed to their very opposites, but this did nothing to deter Frank, rather it gave the chance to prove himself that his family deprived him of.

Ever since he learnt what an Auror was, (around the age of seven), Frank decided that he was one. That was that and it remained to be simply that in spite of Carson and Augusta’s efforts to snuff the idea out, which commenced when he was seven and are continuing now that he is seventeen.

As Peter Pan, he spent more time in the sky than on the ground. Though he was no Quidditch addict, Frank was rarely without his broom stick and the wind whipping at his face. Other than that, he climbed. To the tops of trees, to the tops of windows, to the tops of his parents’ shoulder to sit. That unwavering hope within, innate and intense, well, it was not deterred when Frank tried to actually fly and ended up breaking his ankle, it just meant that the time spent in the waiting room of St.Mungo’s was used to think of these alternatives.

The best holiday Frank went on occurred in the ninth summer of his life. It was nothing exotic or spectacular, per say, actually, the family visited a beach in Devon and spent the day there. The memory is vivid – it is of holding hand with his brothers, wading into the water and letting the tide pull them back, of his parents lifting him so that he could jump over waves. Simple though it may seem at first, Frank had never experienced anything quite so like it. For the Longbottoms, holidays were really vacations from everyday life, getaways from pretences of elitism and the maintenance of decorum. It was so strange, to see him parents dress so plainly and talk so effortlessly as they did that day, to have laughs like snorts and for a transitory, glorious weekend, to seem so much younger, younger than the burden of survival and charade in an elitist society that was passed down onto them from previous generations. The holidays helped Frank remember who his family truly were, instead of who they, almost constantly, pretended to be.

Being a pureblood boy from a pureblood family in a pureblood world, Frank attended etiquette lessons during his youth. He learned table manners and various forms of dance, eloquence and history and lots of other lessons with purposes that evaded him.

Augusta and Carson realised his weakness when their son was just a small boy. Into taking medicine, or coming down from there, or taking a bath, Frank could be persuaded with just the mention of his beloved Ginger Newts. 

[frankalgielongbottom-blog]

Send me a color?

Purple: 10 facts about my room

Blue: 9 facts about my family

Green: 8 facts about my body

Yellow: 7 facts about my childhood

Orange: 6 facts about my home town

Red: 5 facts about my best friend

Pink: 4 facts about my parents

White: 3 facts about my personality

Grey: 2 facts about my favorite things

Black: 1 fact about the person I like

[frankalgielongbottom-blog]

Ahhhh Robb Stark, you say?? #sepia #YesPodcast (x)

[frankalgielongbottom-blog]

Oh, I'd tell you, certainly, Alice...were it not a secret surprise. You understand, of course?

What are you doing here anyway? Didn't expect to find you here.

Forbidden Forest → December 1, 1976

[frankalgielongbottom-blog]

"Of course! You can't shake me so easily, but um, what mysteries will there be for us to solve in Hogsmeade? The disappearance of Frank's sweet supply, maybe?"

Courtyard || 2nd December, 1976

[frankalgielongbottom-blog]

What if it's a secret? Or a surprise?

Forbidden Forest → December 1, 1976

I am not going to remind you how lucky you are it’s me who caught you wandering off and not a Ministry official - but you are going to tell me what exactly you were planning on achieving with this little stunt.