attn party people, frank means business (franked) wrote in blurred_owls, @ 2009-08-08 22:42:00 |
|
|||
Entry tags: | ! [1980-08] august, frank longbottom |
3 March, 1980
Dear Alice,
This is one letter I don't want to write. I have nothing to say to you here that I haven't already told you once a day, every day (or, at least until you told me to shut it). Know that getting you to say yes to that first date, let alone saying yes to marrying me, will always be my greatest achievement. Know that, in all things, you're the best partner, friend, and wife a man could hope for, and know that I'll never forget the sacrifices you made to become the person that you are now. Know that I've noticed a steady improvement in your baking. Know that your presence is the only thing I need to keep going with this mess of a war. Know that I'd take a curse for you.
See, like I said, stuff I've already told you. You're already aware of all of this, so I'll move onto the business side of things.
My stuff. It seems rather ridiculous to tell you exactly which of my jumpers are yours and which I want donated to whatever charity, so I'm not going to waste our time with this sort of thing. Our marriage is about more than what goes to whom. My only concern is your livelihood after I'm gone, and I've already arranged things so that my funds go to you (and then the baby) without delay. Everything else... Keep what you want, do away with the rest.
Funeral arrangements: nothing big. I'm sure on some plane of existence, I'll be pleased if the plot itself is well tended with flowers and all, but I'm not too fussy. If you want to visit and leave a sprig of something from home, that's more than all right with me.
My mother: loves you and will be there whenever you need her. As will Enid and Algie. They'll form a triumvir if your folks give you a hard time.
Continued 16 July, 1980: Right, so it's been a while and I still don't know what to say. The war hasn't relented, we're still losing people, and it looks like we're making precious little headway. And yet for all that I sometimes wish we had just up & left when we had the chance, I look at you, and I look at this child of ours that you're carrying, and I'm motived to fight back, to fight back harder for this idyllic world that we want. The important thing here is that I couldn't do it without you, Alice. Merlin knows why I'm coming across all emotional now, but that's the truth of it.
If, when little Olive or Neville finally joins us, I'm not around, please take yourself off the front-lines, yeah? Losing one parent is bad enough; losing two, I'm sure you'll agree, is not an option.
And -- maybe I'd better finish here. I think I can hear the kettle going off, which means you'll be on your way over with the tea, and it's going to be very awkward if you come into the room and I'm sitting here with this petrified sort of expression on my face. Your biscuits lately haven't been that bad, so can't use them as an excuse.
I love you, always, forever,
Frank
01 May, 1980
Dear Hippo,
This is your da. Your mother's probably already explained this whole 'Hippo' business to you, but I feel like I should offer my own explanation/apology for something that is a bit of a running joke between us while she's carrying you. See, we waffled a bit on the whole name thing, and in a moment of total silliness, we settled on Hippolytus/Hippolyta, so that we could have something to actually call you instead of 'baby' or 'the baby.' You're already a person to us, and you don't call a person 'the person,' do you? You don't. And so the name stuck. I admit it's also a bit of a two-fingered salute (get Ted or Moody to explain that one, because I'm not sure Alice will be entirely pleased with either of us if you go to her for the meaning of that) to the purists, who enjoy making the distinction between themselves and the rest of us all the more clear with names that never should have left the old Greek texts.
So. Sorry. Sorry for the silly name (you should have a far more sensible one by now!) and sorry for pinning our own political agenda/grievances/what have you on you before you even had a chance to form an opinion, let alone know what an opinion is. The important thing here is that we love you and can't wait to meet you, although at times I wish you could stay there where it's safe until the war your mum & I are currently caught up in is over. I hope, by the time you read this, that we've won and that you can go outside and play with other kids without anyone giving so much as a thought as to whether your friendship is appropriate because of things as inconsequential as the so-called purity of your blood. We've met purebloods that are rotten to the very core, while my best friend is Muggleborn. Just keep that in mind, yeah?
Other important things I feel that I, as a father, should pass on.
- Your (great) uncle Algie will make it his goal in life to offer you toads. I recommend that you accept one in order to keep him from badgering you. Who knows, perhaps you'll even take a liking to them.
- The Chudley Cannons are the team to follow. Trust me, they will have their comeback, and we'll all laugh at the people who never believed.
- Watch out for your mum's baking. I have total faith that she'll have improved over the years, but still -- beware.
Finally, I just want to say how much I wish I could've been there to meet you. I've been reading you things from Beedle the Bard for months now, and I feel like I already know you from the way you kick and react to certain stories. I already like you. We already love you, kid. And you can rail at me all you want for not being there, okay? -- but take care of your mum. She's the backbone of this family & the love of my life and my reason for doing everything that I did (until you came around, because now you are too). Watch out for her.
Love,
Dad
28 May, 1980
Mum --
If the utter worst comes to happen & Alice and I don't make it, you'll be forwarded details about our vault and the Muggle account Ted set us up with earlier this year. You'll get an owl shortly after this with details about what needs to be sent to Alastor Moody (mostly Order-related things). Obviously you get custody of the baby; I can think of no one better to raise our child.
Re. the house: I've willed it to the Order until the baby hits 17.
Re. burial arrangements: Alice & I want to be laid to rest with the rest of our family. Alice's folks have never stopped being priggish and stubborn, but if they make a fuss, you'll set them straight.
Re. Shaggydog: please take him in.
Lots of love,
Frank
15 July 1980
To the Order of the Phoenix,
I've always dreaded receiving these things, so please accept my apologies for inflicting you all with yet another one of these letters. They're a shoddy way of letting people know things that should've been said when we had the chance to say them; unfortunately they're often our only choice. I'll keep it brief.
I know Alice has left you with a sort of to-do list, so I won't waste much ink on that. We all know what we have to do: get our people out from the Rehabilitation Centres, set them straight, and keep fighting. Do not stop now. We've lost so much, but there is so much more to gain if we stay the course and win this war. I have faith in you. Do not lose faith in each other. Watch your partner's back, carry a portkey with you, keep the air clear of the bullshit they'd have the people believe. Work on your Patronuses. I know it's difficult, now more than ever, to find the right sort of happiness that the spell requires -- but it's there. You've all experienced it, and for all the losses we've suffered, don't wish it away. Your fallen comrades wouldn't have it (and would probably smack you for thinking it).
Our house, should Alice & I cease to inhabit it for whatever reason, goes to you for whatever Order-related use you see fit until our child reaches his/her majority. There's a box in the cellar full of stuff, mostly the sort of goodies Aurors like to use on their beat, that you're welcome to. All I ask is that you treat the garden well.
To end this on an emotional note: I'm so proud of each & every one of you. It's been an honour.
Sincerely,
Frank Longbottom
25 May, 1980
Dear Moody,
I know, I know, you growl whenever someone approaches you with the idea of leadership, but if, for whatever reason, both Alice & I are put out of commission, matters regarding the Order fall into your hands. There are documents (a whole damn mountain of them, as Albus seemed to have done his best thinking with a quill in his hand) and funds meant specifically for our gaggle of vigilantes, and so long as you are still around to bark at our little fighters, then Alice & I have no doubt that you will steer them well.
Look out for an owl from my mum. She'll be forwarding you the above items, along with the deeds to our house, which is to be used for Order purposes until our child reaches his/her majority. Then it's up him/her as to what's to be done with it. Addendum, 2 August: Also, since you're now Neville's godfather, I feel it's only fair to warn you that her bark is about ten times worse than her bite & that she will want detailed itineraries about the camping trips you'll be taking our son on.
Good luck and thank you for everything.
Frank
1 July, 1980
Dear Andromeda,
Writing this is especially hard. I don't want to do it, but there are things that need saying, so I'll try to keep it as simple and un-awkward as I possibly can.
First of all, thank you for being such a wonderful wife to Ted. Blokes tend to get very possessive about their best friends, but it was so damn obvious to anyone who had the eyes to see it just how happy you made him. You and Dora both. Not a day goes by where I don't berate myself for not convincing you three to leave -- but then, you and Ted always had so much to offer, and I guess in some selfish way, I wanted my friends around. Which is partly why I was angry with you when you left us for your sisters. Then again, you'd already lost so much. It took me a while to come to grips with it: Ted's death, and your absence. How could I look out for you and my god-daughter without knowing just where you were?
For my anger and failure to understand, I'm sorry. Please know that you can rely on us, on the Order, if you decide to return. And please, if you actually are receiving this letter due to the correct circumstances, look out for Alice. You're a fantastic mum, and I know she'll appreciate whatever support you can give her. You two'll be the A Team, and our kids will be the better for it.
Chin up, Mrs Tonks!
Love,
Frank
To the Army of Albion,
Alice, I believe, has already written you a lengthy letter, and if, Merlin willing, you don't receive it, she'll certainly be informing you of its contents at some point. My aim with this is a two-fold request:
1. Please help the Order. Our respective numbers have been depleted, but combined, I truly do believe this war can be won. I know we've all had issues regarding trust and intent, but at this point, we should be focusing on the one thing that unites us: our goal to get our Ministry and country back.
2. Get that tosser Carrow and deal with him. Personally I'd love it if he were trampled under a stampede of lambs, but more traditional ways of teaching treacherous gits a lesson are just as adequate.
Right, I lied, a few more things. At the risk of coming across as an alcoholic, I've left my humble collection of whisky to you; Kingsley, distribute as you see fit. Enclosed in this letter are details about the dead-drops and contacts Alice and I collected during our time in the DMLE; they might come in useful.
Finally, I'd just like to say that you lot are among the best men & women in the country, and that serving with you has been an honour. Unlike a lot of sods who hate their jobs, I would be proud to have our child grow up and work with people like you.
Sincerely,
Frank Longbottom
Dear Elle,
I know we haven't always seen eye to eye about things, which, I think, is a good thing when you get down to it, considering that the basis of this war has to do with our right to think and be whatever the hell we want. I just wanted to let you know that training you, then working with you, and having you as a friend, has been an honour. Keep your wand steady and your fists hard, and when the war is won, get yourself and the others on a higher payroll, because all of you deserve it.
All my best,
Frank