Who: Frank Longbottom & Ted Tonks When: Morning of 10 November, 1979 Where: The Ministry, then some local eatery What: Fred have a difference of opinion :o Rating: TBD Status: WIP!
At an early point in their careers, his wife would sometimes comment that it was a miracle the muscles of his jaw didn't hypertrophy from all the yawning he managed to do. The reflex, as time went on and the meaning of 'regular working hours' was lost to them, dulled -- which was to the benefit of the public image of the DMLE, as no one really wanted to see the people charged with upholding law and order going off in a contagious sea of yawns.
Still -- when you need to go, you need to go, and Frank desperately needed that yawn just then. The lift heading up was empty, and as the gates closed behind him, he succumbed to the illicit pleasure of the yawn that'd been lurking all through this particular shift. By the time the rapidly veering compartment lurched to a stop, the yawn had led to three more, and brought sleepy heaviness to his eyes, which he rubbed with the palm of his hand as he shouldered his way out.
Ted had shown up- early- for work, thinking that maybe today he'd get ahead on his paperwork. Or not, seeing as every morning there seemed to be twice as much stuff as he'd left the night before. He stood before the lifts, waiting for the bell to ding and the doors to open when all of a sudden it was there- he stepped back, just in time for him to brush shoulders with a rather familiar body.
"Hey, Frank," he said, his own hand coming up to cover a yawn. He couldn't quite help it-- he hadn't slept very well the night before. It felt like it was going to be a strange sort of day. "Sorry for that- didn't- I'm moving a bit more slowly than I should, I think."
Frank found himself in the awkward position of trying to smile through a yawn, and so he settled on raising his arm and staring briefly down at his wristwatch instead. "No surprise there," he said, lowering his hand and turning glassy eyes back on to his friend, smile-lines deepening as he squinted at Ted in bemusement. "It's early. Really early. Looking to get in a couple extra hours?"
"Something like that," Ted replied, blushing faintly. "Couldn't sleep, figured I may as well be productive while I was up." A shoulder came up in a half-shrug, and he glanced to his watch- oh Merlin, it was a holy heck of a lot earlier than he thought it was. "You heading home?"
"Eventually." A tilt of his head toward the exit indicated that Frank had a pit-stop in mind. "Think you can spare a few minutes for a bite to eat and a cuppa?"
One more glance to his watch and Ted nodded. "I- yeah, I think I can do that," he replied, adjusting his bag over his shoulder and turning away from the lifts. He had some time, after all. "Are you thinking Ministry caf, or somewhere else?"
"Please, somewhere else," Frank said with a wrinkle of his nose as they began to head toward the exit, "I really don't fancy getting poisoned so close to Christmas. There's a place -- it's not too far, a street or two away, so we'll get you back here before too long. I just think we should cull our habit of having a bite when one or the other of us is in hospital for whatever reason."
"Sounds good to me," Ted replied, laughing a bit at the face Frank pulled. "I don't blame you. And aye-- I'm a bit tired of all the hospital trips we've had." Thankfully, they hadn't had one of those fairly recently, knock on wood. "But yes! I'll follow you there-- I'm not sure I'm familiar with this place you're talking about..."
The morning air was crisp enough to make clouds of their breath as they left the Ministry, and Frank shrugged deeper into his cloak and hunched his shoulders as they walked toward the small cafe. It was a decent place to grab a bite, made more so by virtue of the fact that it was even open at this hour; Frank had spent many a morning hunkered down in one of the seats, looking for some additional burst of energy in the cup of black, black coffee (a rare drink for him, that, seeing as he was a tea man) set before him.
"It's fairly decent," he was saying as they walked in. "Not mean with their servings, so naturally I'm a fan."
Ted shivered, adjusting the scarf around his neck before shoving his hands deeper into his pockets. "Fantastic. I managed to grab a muffin on the way out this morning, but that would last until, what, nine this morning?" He closed his eyes, pausing a moment just inside the warm restaurant, and then looked about for a decent table. He made his way over, sliding into a booth and he reached to unbutton his coat and pull off his scarf.
Frank followed suit, digging his fingers into the loop of his own scarf in order to loosen and tug it off as he took a seat. "As long as that?" came the dry inquiry as he cast an unnecessary glance at the menu (he knew what he wanted: tea, strong and hot) before passing it on to Ted. "I think that amounts to about a twenty-minute burst of energy before my stomach starts demanding a real meal -- but, mate, speaking of nine, why are you here so early?"
"Working. I'm still trying to catch up on everything, but it never ends." Ted pulled a face, reaching for the menu as Frank passed it over. Tea to start. And...some toast and maybe- well, that special looked pretty good. "And it was a large muffin!" He glanced up as a girl came by to take their orders and Ted looked back to Frank a moment later. "How've things been on your end?"
Frank merely twitched a shoulder in a shrug and watched the girl leave before turning his gaze back to Ted. "Just as hairy, unfortunately. The trial -- but you know."
"Yeah, I know. It's- I don't know. It seems like such a good thing, but- something doesn't seem to sit right with me about it all." Ted hadn't really talked to anybody else about it before now, and he gave a slight sigh and a happy smile as their tea arrived. Oh, thank goodness. "Suppose it's keeping most of us busy, though."
The arrival of the tea was a blessing; Frank busied himself with spooning the usual amount of sugar into his cup and pouring in some milk as he waited for the girl to leave them on their own again. Ted's confession of disquiet caused his brows to raise slightly in curiosity, and he glanced across the table at his friend. "Doesn't it?"
"Not quite," Ted admitted, scooping sugar and stirring it into his tea. "I don't- I don't know. Maybe it is good in the long run, but...I can't help but wonder-" He broke off, shaking his head. Maybe he wasn't made for war and..and- and all this kind of stuff.
Metal clinked against china as Frank swept his spoon one last time within the cup, then set it down on the saucer. They had it coming, he wanted to say, but instead, carefully, he replied, "Wonder what?"
"I don't know," Ted replied, biting his lower lip. "I don't know how any of this is supposed to work- but... I mean- you know how they got them in the first place. And how- how do they know that all of them are really involved?"
"The evidence speaks for itself, don't you think?" Frank's tone was sharper than he'd intended, and he lowered his voice, dropping his gaze down so that he was looking directly at his tea. There would always be people with doubts about whether what they did was right or wrong -- and being of the school of thought that considered the imprisonment of Death Eaters and their supporters very right despite the amount of machinations that went into getting them caught, Frank found that it rankled to be confronted with the possibility that it might, in fact, be wrong.
"Greyback, Malfoy, the Lestranges," he said quietly. "Come on, Ted."
"I don't doubt those names. But the women? Not that I'm saying women can't be-" Ted cut off with a frustrated sigh. "I don't know." Maybe he had zero room to talk. "Guess this is why you're the auror and I'm not, yeah?" Ted lifted his shoulder in a shrug and brought his tea up for another long sip.
"Yeah, that's--" Frank interrupted himself with a sharp intake of breath, and a terse moment went by before he spoke up again. He was tired, tired down to his very bones, and he knew that if he didn't consider his words with care, he would say something he'd likely regret.
"They're involved, Ted. Just their acceptance of those shite purist values makes them guilty."
"Yeah," Ted replied, carefully setting his cup down on the table and barely glancing up as his food was set down. The waitress seemed to know better than to say anything and ambled off toward the counter. "Yeah, I guess you're right." Maybe he was too idealistic. Maybe- well, this sort of thing was never easy, never just black and white, right or wrong. "Merlin, when did this all get so complicated?"