Liquorice Wand Wisdom [OPEN]

It was strange to see Hogsmeade when it was anything other than covered in snow. Yet, even though it was a pleasant temperature and snow was a long way away from beginning its fall, there was a chill about the Scottish village that was indicative of the oncoming winter. It made Frank Longbottom burrow himself that little bit deeper into the leather jacket he was wearing over the Quidditch jersey that was loose on his frame. With his dark boots underneath a pair of equally murky jeans the bright yellow and black declaring him to be a player – or if not that then at least a fan – of the Wimborne Wasps was his only splash of colour. He wasn’t feeling at all tempted by it, however, lately.

After training that morning, Frank had decided to go up to Hogsmeade for a bit of a pace change. He was weary and it was beginning to show in the hollows under his eyes and the fact that he’d neglected to shave, letting his beard get out of control even more than it usually was. He also needed a haircut but the media was thoroughly lapping up the bad boy image he was inadvertently exuding and he wasn’t going to begrudge them their fodder so he let them get on with it. Unfortunately for him, however, they had also had a mind to follow him to Hogsmeade and it took over an hour before Frank finally lost them in one of the back alleys and they decided to go on home.

In the end, once the coast was clear, Frank went back out into the village and began to wander back up and down, not quite realising he was pacing until he noticed he’d passed the same man sat quietly on a bench with his dog by his side for the fourth or fifth time. So, resolving himself, he found a shop to go into – picking Honeydukes of all places. He had a sweet tooth once upon a time. Years of living on a strange myriad of foots to keep himself fit and healthy had somewhat negated the need for him to have sweets however being around them again made him think fondly of his time at Hogwarts and so he was content to walk through the aisles, unsure whether or not he was really going to buy anything at all.

Coming to a stop in front of a stand of drooballs, Frank bit his lip and finally committed to buying something by picking up a packet. After that he began a little bit less thrifty and chose things he’d never even heard of before stepping into the shop. Soon enough he found himself setting them down and going in search of a basket and after that he gathered a swell of sweets into the basket, unsure whether he was going to even eat them. It was an impulse buy, he figured – something to nurse his slightly dejected disposition.

It was working, too.