#frank1

Alice had been lying awake for the last half an hour, unable to fall back sleep she turned to her side, facing Frank, lightly poking his chest until he woke up. "What are your thoughts on stopping by the three broomsticks for a hot chocolate?" It was nearing midnight, but she had gotten the craving for it, her period must be coming soon but she wasn't going to go by herself. Or get something if he didn't also want something.

Alice’s first cat had been a stray when she rescued her and, really, Pepper never quite got over being brought inside. She’d spent her life insisting that Alice let her out to explore, or finding a way outside on her own, and decimating the rodent and bird populations wherever they happened to be living. Alice’s current cat was a very different creature. Cinnamon was more than appreciative of the comforts of being an indoor cat, and rarely looked for more. The only time he ever wanted to be let out was when there was someone particularly special coming up the drive and the only person who was really special enough to merit such a greeting was Frank Longbottom. There was a joke to be made in that about pets taking after their owners, but Alice tried not to think about it. Frank had become one of her dearest friends since she joined the auror program, and Alice was determined to be satisfied with that. 

Still, when Cinnamon perked up and abandoned his spot by the fire to sit at the front door and meow insistently, Alice’s heart did a little flip. She shoved her feet into a pair of boots as Cinnamon began pawing at the door and opened it before he brought out his claws. She pulled on a jacket while he trotted down the walk to flop at Frank’s feet with all the drama of a fainting Hollywood starlet and none of the grace. Alice followed at a more leisurely pace, but she couldn’t keep a wide smile off her face. She hadn’t seen Frank since she left the aurors, and if she thought about it too hard it worried her how much she’d missed him. 

If there was one thing Alice had learned from her childhood at the Lestrange estate, it was that the only person she could depend on was herself. She liked having people in her life, her friends, her coworkers, her fellow order members, but she never wanted to rely on any one person. Alice hadn’t realized until she wasn’t seeing him everyday just how much Frank’s presence in her life steadied her. She didn’t like it, and she didn’t know what to do about it, so she tried not to think about it. For now, she focused on Cinnamon, who’d begun his ‘aren’t I so cute, don’t you want to pet me’ wiggle. “He missed you, you should come around more often.”

Remy spent a lot more time outside now that the weather was actually approaching something tolerable. He still wore his trenchcoat but at least the unrelenting and terrible cold seemed to be fading away. People had told him to expect a hot summer but he wouldn’t believe that until he’d seen it and, if it was coming, hoped it happened sooner rather than later. Still, it was nice enough so he happened to be walking around outside, smoking, when he heard gun shots coming from a different part of the grounds. Blinking, he turned towards the sound and listened again. Not overly close together and only one gun. That probably meant someone was doing target practice and there wasn’t a duel to the death happening. Best to wander over and check it out, anyway.  When he got to the source of the shots, Remy saw that his guess had been right since there was a man doing target practice. He seemed like a damn good shot, too. As he approached, Remy recognized the man, intrigued that he’d ended up here of all places. Honestly, the Punisher hadn’t seemed the type to fight the good fight, at least not in this way, but people surprised you. Deciding to have a little fun, Remy shook a card into his hand and charged it then threw it at one of the practice targets. The card hit exactly where it was supposed to and exploded.  “Bonjour.” He greeted with a grin. “Seems I never see ya wit’out a gun.” Not that they knew each other, really. Just one basically chance encounter but Remy remembered the man. It was hard to forget someone like him and what Remy had at least partially seen him do. The question was, did The Punisher remember him? 

A dagger is of very little use if your hands have no way of reaching it. Lark kicked himself for not having learned this lesson before today. Of course, this wasn’t exactly the most anticipated trip. It wasn’t like he could go around everywhere with a dagger in his hand, looking like a madman, ready for the jungle to take him at a moment’s notice.

These thoughts being neither here nor there, he now roamed the jungle, armed and ready for the next attack from the sentient overgrowth... or anything else really. He chopped his way through the thick foliage, narrowly dodging its malicious traps. The sound of bipedal movement found his ears long before the disheveled mop of dark hair came into view. The person accompanying it looked stressed and on high alert as any sane person would.

It took Lark longer to recognise the man without the mini shadow that usually followed him around everywhere. Oh. No wonder he looked so on edge. “Frank? Is that you?” He asked as he lowered his dagger, drew closer, and tried to get a better look at him. “How you holding up, mate? You’re not hurt are you?”

Diagon Alley was buzzing today, as it did before the holidays most years, with people alike searching for presents for the important people in their lives. Nana had recently adopted a ferret. Amelia couldn’t tell you why, but she accepted whatever her Nana was up to and decided to step into the Menagerie today to buy some ferret treats. She’d learn to make treats herself, eventually, like the many dog treats she prepared, especially during the holiday season when most orders came in.

“Happy Christmas,” Amelia greeted the shopkeeper behind the counter with a nod and friendly smile. “Could you point me to ferret needs?”

It hadn’t been exams Jennifer had methodically been studying. No, her sights had been set on a Scottish witch for weeks now. She worked Monday, Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday. Marnie Davis, from what Jennifer had learned, was an ordinary witch who’d been assigned a case the Burke girl was very interested in. Amelia Bones was cursed on the 14th of October and since then, there had been no information that’d surfaced. At least unbeknownst to the public eye through the Prophet. If she could get her two hands onto a case file, maybe that would change in her favor. She’d told Rosalind I have a plan. She was dedicated to it like a cause of her own, clear and sober mind raging with anxieties outside the Ministry.

Marnie Davis was not a smoker, and for that, Jennifer was quite pissed. But she did pick up a baker’s dozen of bagels -- because that was a morning ritual for the stupid witch. How uncharacteristically cheery Jen was going to have to be to her co-workers as she strolled into the Atrium this morning.