Chapter One
"Longbottom, we're breaking up."
Frank glanced up from his desk and stared at Gawain Robards, his partner since he'd left the Auror training program. He set down his quill and frowned. "What?" he asked, feeling as thick as he likely sounded.
Robards grinned down at him, settling on the corner of the desk, arms crossed over his knee. "Nothing personal, of course," he said, affecting a properly regretful tone of voice. "But I've taught you all I can, and Robertson thinks we should move on and see other people."
"Move on?" Frank repeated, still feeling completely oblivious. "Other people? What are you talking about?" He heard the confused edge to his voice and tried to calm his face, but he was too late: Robards picked up on it and laughed.
"I'll miss you too, Longbottom. Especially on those long, cold nights…" He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively; Frank flushed, glancing around to see if anyone was listening. A few people turned away with a cough or snort, motivating Frank to find his voice and avoid any more embarrassment. He stood, placed his hands on his desk, and leaned closer, pitching his voice the way he would when questioning a suspect.
"Tell me what's going on, Gawain, or I'll tell your wife all kinds of stories about those long, cold nights." He gave his partner his best serious-Auror look and was rewarded when a flash of surprise crossed Robards's face, followed by calculating eyes, and finally a look of exaggerated disappointment.
"How have I not managed to instill a sense of humour in you?" he muttered. He stood up and shrugged. "I'm just taking the piss, Longbottom. We've been assigned new partners, that's all."
Frank sat back down with a satisfied nod at having the rare last word. "That was my sense of humour. And why new partners?" he asked. "I thought we had one of the best records in the department."
"The best record," Robards corrected him. "Which is why we've both been given a novice to work with. Mentoring the next generation and all that."
"I am the next generation, Gawain," Frank pointed out. "I've only been in the field for a year."
"You sure act like an old man, though." Robards sat down in an empty chair and leaned back, passing a hand over his face as if it had been a long day, even though it was first thing in the morning. "But even so, you're good. I'm good, you're good, and apparently this latest batch is not. So we've both been conscripted to wandwhip them into shape."
"That's bollocks," Frank said. He had heard about the latest group of Aurors coming out of training and sure as hell didn't want to be paired up with one of them. Robards was right: he was only 22 with a year of real experience, but he felt like he had far more under his belt, in part because he took it seriously and worked harder than just about anyone in the department. He didn't want some novice ruining his good record.
More importantly, he liked Robards. Gawain was ten years his senior, and he was as good as he thought he was. He had a more instinctive approach to the job, arriving at conclusions it took Frank far longer to come to on his own, and his dueling skills were the best in the department. He had a sense of humor that bordered on irreverent at times, but it was actually a welcome relief from the stuffy, serious environment of the Auror office. Frank knew perfectly well he was stuffy and serious and contributed quite a bit to the overall atmosphere of the department, but that didn't stop him from appreciating being partnered with someone like Robards. He and Robards made a good team, complimenting one another's strengths and weaknesses, and Frank knew he could still learn a lot from the experienced Auror.
"Orders are orders, even when they're bunk." Robards grinned. "Besides, you haven't got it half as bad as I do. I've got the one who repeated his first year of training, but you've got the cheeky blond witch everyone is talking about."
Frank felt his stomach drop and knew it probably showed on his face again. "The cheeky blond witch? Alice Hamilton?"
"That's the one." Robards leaned closer, affecting a thoughtful look as Frank refused to meet his eyes. "You suddenly seem a bit put out. What could possibly be wrong with an attractive young witch as a partner? People might get the wrong idea if you fuss about it, you know."
Frank shook his head and grinned, trying to cover up what he had already revealed: he did not want to be partnered with Alice Hamilton. "I thought people already had the wrong idea about me, Gawain."
"That's true, they do." Gawain shook his head. "I know you just work so hard you could care less about men or women, but what do you have against Hamilton? That face you're pulling is personal."
"It's nothing," Frank said, suppressing a sigh when Gawain gave him the look, the look that said he would have the answer no matter what, and it was better to give in sooner than later. Gawain Robards always got what he wanted, from friend or foe. Frank glanced around to be sure no one was listening in anymore; everyone appeared fervently engaged at their desks, which meant they were all listening attentively. He stood, not wanting to start any more gossip than necessary. "Want some tea?"
"Not really," Robards replied as he followed Frank to the small room where they were allowed to relax for short breaks. "But I see how it is."
"I doubt it," Frank said, opening the door and hustling him through. "We just dated at school. Once."
Robards snorted as they sat down. "You've been out of school for years, Longbottom. What's the problem?"
"I didn't say there was a problem," Frank replied defensively as he set about making them each a cup of tea.
"No, your face did," Robards replied. He shook his head. "You're good in the field, Frank, but you sure can't hide bollocks from me in here. Hamilton's the best of the lot, you know. Why won't you partner with her? Did she break your heart or something?"
"No, she did not break my heart. It's not a big deal," Frank insisted. "In fact, she probably doesn't even remember it. Much."
"Tell me."
Frank ran a hand through his short hair and sighed again. "We had a date in Hogsmeade my seventh year. Let's just say, it didn't go particularly well." It had been a disaster, really, and neither one of them had talked to each other for the rest of the year. It was a shame, too, because he had liked Alice Hamilton; it had taken him weeks to work up to asking her out. He remembered her as a vibrant, energetic girl at Hogwarts, smart and attractive and not afraid to bend the rules a bit. In fact, as a prefect, he had docked her points on more than one occasion, something that grew truly awkward after their unfortunate experience in Hogsmeade. He couldn't help but wonder what she had thought when she found out they were now partners: was she remembering their school days as well, or dreading working with "Old Man Longbottom"?
He didn't tell Gawain all the details--he didn't see the need to relive such a particularly embarrassing memory--but they did share what they knew about their new partners as they sipped their drinks. Frank had gone to school with John Dawlish, Robards's new partner, as well. Dawlish had been a good Hufflepuff who had started off strong in the training program with Frank and two others. It was likely just bad luck that had seen him forced out halfway through the year after a Tranfiguration accident put him in St. Mungo's for three months. Frank had been impressed he'd even returned since most people would probably quit after being turned into a Scottish terrier with six-inch fangs.
"Well, we'll make the best of it," Robards finally said with a falsely dramatic sigh. "At least yours will be nice to look at."
"As long as she doesn't remember--" Frank started, then froze with his cup halfway to his lips as the door opened.
"Remember what?" asked a strong, clear voice. "Not April 27th, 1974, by chance?"
Alice Hamilton stood in the doorway, and Frank felt his stomach twist when he saw the look on her face.
"Merlin's beard, I've been assigned to Longbottom!" Alice exclaimed. "I've actually been assigned to the old man." She grimaced and glanced up at John Dawlish, trying to get a look at her friend's sheet of parchment. "Who'd you get?"
John rolled his eyes. "Robards. Longbottom's partner."
Alice gave him a hopeful smile and even batted her eyelashes a bit. "Want to trade?"
"I doubt that's allowed," John replied with a snort. "Besides, I don't want Longbottom either."
They left the meeting room where they had been given their assignments and walked toward the main Auror offices to meet with their new partners. "That's curious," Alice said. "Why not?"
"He's a dull, boring, arrogant prat, that's why," Dawlish replied. "He was arrogant prat at school and he's still an arrogant prat, he just gets to call himself an Auror now instead of a prefect."
"He's an Auror with a really good record." Alice narrowed her eyes, certain she had heard something else in his voice. "You're not jealous, are you? Because he finished on time?"
John gave her one of those dry looks that told her she was both right and wrong. "Can't say I enjoyed repeating my first year, no, but it wasn't his fault."
"Then why so bitter?" asked Alice. She had been friends with John since their first day of training and had not known him to hold grudges for quite so long.
"You tell me," John tossed back. "What have you got against him?"
"Only one of the worst dates I've ever been on," she shot back. "Not to mention all those points he docked me at school and--"
He waved his hand dismissively. "Water under the bridge, Hamilton. That was years ago."
"It's better than hating him for being dull and boring and good at what he does!" she exclaimed, though she couldn't help but laugh. "That's just petty."
"I don't hate him," John grumbled. She waited patiently for him to continue. "Fine. He beat me at Gobstones. In fact, he's beat me every single time we've played, all the way back to fifth year at Hogwarts. I lost a number of Galleons my first year of Auror training thanks to him."
"That's what I'm talking about," Alice murmured. She bumped him on the shoulder and winked. "Well, seeing as I'm partners with him now, I could set up a rematch if you like."
"Forget it," he said, finally laughing with her as he shook his head. "I have no change to spare. And he's too good."
"No one's that good," she said. "It's just Gobstones: it's half luck."
"He is," Dawlish said. "And he was like that at school too: good at his classes, good with the girls--" Alice coughed, and he grinned. "Okay, not all of them. And he was good at Auror training, damn good. You'll learn a lot, at least."
Alice gave him a skeptical look. "He's only a year older than me, John. How much can he possibly teach me? I'd rather be with Robards. At least he has some real experience."
"He's hard on new recruits, though. I heard he almost got Longbottom to quit, he was such an arse." John shook his head with a sigh. "He certainly won't go easy on me. I've got a reputation to shake."
"You've worked harder than anyone," Alice said, laying a hand on his arm and smiling with encouragement. "No one will remember what happened your first year. And if they do, they can't hold it against you."
"He will," said John, but he sounded like he had accepted it and was simply waiting for his doom. "Just wait for it."
They weaved their way through the Auror department, asking after their respective partners. Apparently they were both in the break room, so Alice headed toward the back, John following behind her. She subconsciously started smoothing her robes and tucking her hair behind her ears until she forced herself to stop. She hated feeling nervous, but she was. John was right, for one: Frank Longbottom was an excellent Auror. He'd gone into the training program with more N.E.W.T.s than anyone in years and come out just as strong. After a rough start, he and Robards now had the best record in the department. Yes, he was known as a bit of a bookish, rule-bound boot-licker, but he was also good at what he did, and apparently quite the Gobstones champion as well.
She also remembered the boy she had known at school: a fellow Gryffindor who had always been willing to help her with her work, even after he had been made prefect and had to dock her points for being out after curfew. A quiet but kind boy who had smiled at her every time he saw her, he finally asked her out toward the end of her sixth year, and she had gladly said yes. Sometimes she wished that date had gone differently; she had liked him.
She had entered Auror training a year behind him, but oddly enough had not had much contact with him aside from occasional meetings and a passing greeting in the office. They both moved on from their awkward experience at school, so there was no real reason to see, think, or talk to him when they were at such different points in their lives. Now that she was going to be permanent partners with him, however, she was strangely, awkwardly nervous.
It was almost as if John were reading her thoughts, though he interpreted them somewhat differently. "You're beautiful. You don't have to look good to impress him, anyway--he doesn't notice that sort of thing."
She glanced sideways at him, eyebrows raised. "Doesn't notice…women?" she asked. That might explain their disaster of a date during her sixth year.
"As far as I've heard, he doesn't notice much of anything outside of work," John said. "They say he's here sunup to sundown. All work, no play--and lots of paperwork." He shook his head and gave her a sympathetic look. "Good luck with that."
Alice laughed as they came to the breakroom. "I'll be fine. Maybe I can get him to loosen up a bit. Maybe--"
She opened the door and stopped in her tracks; John bumped into her from behind and mumbled an apology. "We'll make the best of it," Gawain Robards was saying. "At least yours is nice to look at."
"As long as she doesn't remember--" said another voice she recognized. Frank Longbottom saw her at that moment and froze as well, teacup halfway to his lips.
"Remember what?" she asked, trying to keep her voice steady. "Not April 27th, 1974, by chance?"
She was sure he swore under his breath. Robards half coughed, half laughed into his hand before he stood up and eyed John, all strict business. "I'll leave you two with your sordid past. You must be mine, then?"
John nodded and held out his hand. "John Dawlish, sir. Pleased to meet you."
"We'll see about that. Call me Robards and follow me, dog-boy." He headed out the door with a wave over his shoulder. "Good luck, Longbottom. And you, Hamilton." John followed him with a sigh; he'd been right about Robards giving him a hard time.
Frank stared after them as if he had been abandoned to a horrible fate, before finally standing and motioning her to a chair across from him. "Can I get you something?" he asked.
"No thank you," she replied. "I'm fine. It's not a date, after all."
She saw his shoulders tighten and couldn't help but grin to herself. He sat down slowly with a sigh.
"Look, I'm sorry about that--" he started, but she waved him off.
"I know," she replied, waving it away as casually as she could and hoping it would throw him off. "It wasn't your fault, just like it's not your fault we're partners now."
He gazed silently at her, and she felt as if he were studying her like he would study a prisoner being interrogated. But she did not squirm: she met his eyes directly, challenging him. He didn't intimidate her, no matter what John might think about how good he was. Frank Longbottom was just an old-fashioned know-it-all who probably didn't smile much anymore, let alone relax and have fun. He'd certainly cocked it up well enough in Hogsmeade her sixth year.
"No, it wasn't," he finally replied. "But I didn't handle it well, and I apologize. I hope we can make this work in spite of any unpleasantness between us." He held out his hand, and Alice glanced down at it in surprise. She had hoped to throw him off with her casual acceptance, but instead he had got her.
And he knew it: very slowly he raised a questioning eyebrow, and the corners of his mouth tugged upward in amusement. So he could smile. Deciding to take back the upper hand, she thrust her arm forward and took his offer in as strong a grip as she could, with as broad a smile as she had in her. His confidence faltered slightly.
"It'll be brilliant," she said. "I couldn't have asked for a better partner." His eyes widened slightly as she pulled him toward her over the table. "And neither could you," she murmured, then dropped his hand and sat back. "So now that that's out of the way, where do we start?"
He blew out a long breath before he stood and held the door open for her. "Let's get you set up at a desk, go over some procedures and paperwork…" He trailed off as she walked by him with a deliberately sour look on her face. "What?"
"Paperwork is boring. How about catching some bad guys instead?" she asked brightly, and was rewarded when he rolled his eyes. She decided right then if she couldn't get him to roll his eyes at her at least five times a day she wasn't trying hard enough. It would be more interesting than paperwork, anyway.
"Bad guys. Right." He nodded as he walked toward his desk. "I'll send out an owl and see if I can find some for you to smile to death."
She laughed; he shook his head. Maybe it would be interesting after all. Very interesting.
* * *
Love and Order by Gmariam
Chapter Endnotes: The biggest thank you possible to Kara/KaraleyDargen for beta-reading this story and enduring endless discussion about inane details on AIM. She is fantastic! Any mistakes are thus my own. Hope you enjoyed the setup, though. :)