WHO: Francine Goldstein & Rolf Scamander. WHAT: Rolf helps Francine with an emergency. WHEN: Backdated to 13 November, after this. WHERE: Francine's flat, Knockturn Alley. WARNINGS: Boggarts.
The thing about Francine’s emergencies is that they often weren’t emergencies at all. Rolf would receive a flurry of frantic hexts from his cousin, insisting he come over immediately… to help her find her missing magnifying glass, or her lost bracelet. Once, she needed a second opinion on her new hair color. Another emergency had involved taking her rubbish out to the bin. This time, however, he had received hexts from his cousin Daniel as well, which meant this was a proper emergency.
He had agreed to meet Francine at the door to her flat, though he still wasn’t quite sure what the issue was. But his wand was at the ready as he reached for the doorknob, his expression somber as he glanced over at his cousin. “Are you ready?”
Snapping out of her daze, Francine had to take a second to remember why they were standing outside of her flat. Truthfully, she didn’t want to go back inside, but there was the fact that everything she had was inside, and she couldn’t stay away forever. Especially since she couldn’t just stay at home right now. “I’m always ready. Are you scared? It’s okay to be scared.” She didn’t want to admit it herself, but if Rolf was, then she’d feel a lot better about it.
“I’m a little nervous,” Rolf replied, mostly to put Francine at ease. He gave her what he hoped was a reassuring smile. “But I feel a lot better knowing you have my back.”
Francine brightened a little. "I do have your back! I'm great at that!" She held her wand out and pointed at the door. "Okay, you can go in first."
Rolf let out a huff of exasperated laughter before opening the door with a flick of his wand. There was obvious tension coiled in him as he crossed the threshold, head quickly darting about as if he was an Auror entering a crime scene. There was nothing strange in the living room — well, nothing aside from the odd assortment of traps Francine was rigging up. “The living room is clear!” he called out. He was cautious as he approached the bedroom, his mouth pressed into a tight line.
He froze in the doorway, stunned by the sight of Irene Goldstein’s corpse.
A heartbeat later, though, the body began to transform, splitting into two distinct shapes. Theseus and Daphne Scamander lay on the floor, their expressions frozen in fear, victims of the Killing Curse.
Sighing, Rolf waved his wand at the boggart. “Riddikulus!” The incantation was followed by a whip-like crack, and the bodies quickly changed into a puffskein wearing a party hat.
“It’s safe to come in now!”
As soon as she got the clear, Francine dashed inside, stopping short of her room. She hesitated for a minute, but she was a Gryffindor and she wasn't about to be afraid of whatever that was. Peering inside to confirm that the scene was clear of her mum's body, she could feel her nerves disappear when she noticed it had been replaced by a puffskein. "What did you do?"
“It’s a boggart,” Rolf explained, gesturing to the puffskein with his wand. “So I used the boggart-banishing charm, which doesn’t actually banish it, just the whole… ‘your worst fear’ part of it” He glanced around the room before his gaze landed back on Francine. “We need to contain it. Do you have a box or a trunk?”
Well, she could've done that if she'd known what it was. It wasn't quite the time to point that out, though, because she had to find a box. Thankfully, Francine collected boxes. They were always useful for evidence. Rummaging under her bed, her voice came a little muffled, "Do boggarts just show up where they're not wanted? No one ever told me this was part of the lease."
“They do have a tendency to show up where they’re not wanted, but it’s strange that it didn’t reveal itself until now.” Rolf’s eyes flicked about the bedroom again — it wasn’t an especially dark and cramped room, and it certainly wasn’t the type of apartment that would naturally draw boggarts. “Did you receive any weird packages lately?”
Francine pulled herself out from under the bed and held out a box in triumph. It rattled with whatever was left in there — when she dumped out its contents, she remembered that was her broken decoder ring box — but it would do. "No, Rolf," she said, rolling her eyes. "I do a thorough check on all of my mail. You know I have a lot of enemies." She was still convinced Mrs. Thompson was going to send her something nasty for crashing her dinner party that one time.
“Well, look,” Rolf replied, taking the box from Francine, “boggarts do have a nasty habit of popping up in random places. They’re terrible.” He paused for a moment, looking over at Francine with concern. “Are you okay? I know they can be… a lot.”
"If I'd known it was a boggart, I would've been fine," she insisted, but she dropped her bravado a second after. Hesitantly, she continued, "It was awful. What if another one shows up when I'm not expecting it?"
“Do you need a refresher on the banishing charm?” he asked, picking up the puffskein and unceremoniously dropping it in the box. Rolf sealed the box with a wave of his wand. “I know it’s hard to remember your worst fear in the world is probably not in your bedroom, what with everything that’s going on.”
Her fingers curled around her wand as she eyed the box warily. What if it suddenly jumped out of its confines? Couldn't they just flush it down the toilet? "Maybe later. I've been through so many trials today." It wasn't the most accurate statement, but it was the only way Francine could think of to describe how horrible of a day it was without having to recount why it was so horrible.
“Trials?” Rolf echoed, lifting a brow. But his tone was slightly trepidatious, as if he was wary of having Francine unload a litany of histrionic complaints.
“Yes, Rolf, trials. I think people woke up this morning with the goal to TEST MY SOUL,” she said, complete with a big sigh. “It’s the only thing that would explain it.”
Rolf’s expression was one part skeptical, one part sympathetic. “What happened?”
"Marisol was trying to pick a fight with me today because I forgot my ID," Francine rolled her eyes, "as if I don't see her literally every day. And then I had to miss my lesson with Tobias because of this stupid boggart so now I have to learn how to use misdirection as a technique next week and Daniel was being awful to me and I still haven't eaten." She let out a huff of frustration.
“I see,” Rolf said solemnly, although he didn’t really see at all. He didn’t recognize a few of the names, but he had the feeling most of them were regular players in Francine’s stories. Frowning, he reached out and gently patted his cousin’s shoulder. “I’m sorry you had a bad day. I know there probably isn’t much I can do, but we can at least go get something to eat.” His frown bloomed into a reassuring smile. “My treat.”
"From the place that always gives us free dessert?" She asked, although with the way she said it, it sounded more like a demand than a real question.
Rolf laughed. “If that’s what you want.”
"Great!" Francine looped her arm through Rolf's, pulling him behind her as she started walking. "Remind me to tell you about this perfect new idea I came up with!"
“Does it have anything to do with breaking into Azkaban?” Rolf gave Francine a sidelong look, his smile wilting as thoughts of rappelling and GoFundMe’s passed through his mind.
"Of course it does," she scoffed. "How do you feel about growing a mullet?"
“Francine, I must be honest with you,” Rolf admitted as they cut through the living room, “I have very negative feelings about mullets.” He flashed her an apologetic smile as he opened the door.
Rolf's reaction didn't bother her. Genius plans were always met with initial rejection. "Fine," Francine sighed. "I'll find a different hairstyle for you."