#scene 2

Standing with the red and gold Head Boy badge in hand, Frank Longbottom was trying to decide whether he was surprised at the appointment—or not. As a Prefect, the chances had always been higher than for a regular student, but both Richard Bones and Ralph Davies had been diligent in their Prefect duties. Even Magnus Bulstrode hadn’t been too awful, for a Slytherin. 

No, he really had to stop that way of thinking. It was bad enough for a Prefect to hold onto house grudges, but as Head Boy, it was downright destructive. 

‘Is that the school list, dear?’ 

Frank startled. Turning around, his mother was already standing by the kettle. He’d not even heard her enter. She could be unnerving that way.

‘Tea?’

There was something expectant in her eyes.

‘Yes, erm…’ 

‘Yes, please,’ his mother corrected, as if he were five.

‘I am Head Boy.’

The words left him almost against his will, breathless and uncertain. 

‘Naturally.’

There wasn’t a trace of surprise to be found in the face of his formidable mother. 

‘Augusta, my darling wife, you could try to act a bit surprised—or if that’s too much to ask, a fraction of pride wouldn’t go amiss?’

His father was standing in the doorway, beaming. He was not much taller than his wife, with large protruding ears, thinning hair, “and a winning smile” as his uncle Algie sometimes said. Always with a rather mocking undertone, but Jack always chose to ignore his brother. 

‘I am plenty proud,’ huffed Augusta as she passed Frank a mug of steaming tea. She placed her hands on his shoulders and guided him to a chair. ‘But I am not surprised. A man like Albus Dumbledore would never have failed to recognise how brilliant our son is.’

Now Frank wanted to disappear. He never knew what was worse: his mother’s praise or the lack of it.

‘Still,’ his father took a seat across from him, ‘plenty of work has gone into earning that badge. I say a large congratulations… and perhaps a small celebration… is in order.’ 

‘We can celebrate when he’s got his N.E.W.Ts and his job at the Auror office.’ Augusta put a second mug of tea in front of her husband, before she took her own porcelain cup and headed for the door. ‘Excuse me, I have some letters to write.’

‘To brag about our most extraordinary son,’ suggested Jack with a wink, but only after Augusta had left them. ‘We’re both so very proud of you.’

Frank decided to focus on his tea and his new list of school supplies for this year. His final year. 

As there wasn’t much to keep his attention in the letter, however, he turned his thoughts back to the note from Dumbledore, which he had skimmed earlier. It seemed Sandra Morgan—a Ravenclaw muggle-born Prefect—was to be his partner as the newly appointed Head Girl. He felt rather good about that. Sandra was kind, clever and diligent. 

‘Tell you what, Frankie.’ His father’s voice cut through his thoughts. ‘Why don’t we buy you an owl? It’s about time you got your own.’

An owl. One that was his alone. So far, his parents… well, his mother, really… had rejected the idea. What was the point, she’d argued, when they had a perfectly healthy family owl, and a whole army of free school ones, should Fay be unavailable? 

‘That would be great,’ he said, his mouth dry. ‘Thank you, dad.’

‘Nonsense,’ Jack waved his hand, ‘this is all you, son. It’s your work that’s earned you that badge. And don’t you forget it.’ 

Then, almost as an afterthought, he added quietly: ‘Fran was Head Girl in her time, she’d be so very proud too.’

Give me my robe, put on my crown; I have Immortal longings in me.

- like or reblog if you save/use ¡!

squishy 🍑