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Nancy didn’t realize there was anyone else in the corridor with her until she collided with something solid and muscled, exhaling a soft oof as she drew up short, lifting her head to look into the eyes of the person she’d bumped into and cringing when she realized it was Frank Hardy, Head Boy.
He was frowning disapprovingly at her, and sighed when she smiled sheepishly back at him. “Nancy, I told you not to let me catch you out after curfew.”
Nancy resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “Like you’re going to take points from your own house.” She bit down on her tongue as soon as the words were out of her mouth; Frank was exactly the type of person to do just that, all in the interest of being fair.
But this time he only scowled at her, asking, “What are you doing out this late, anyway?”
The sound of footsteps turning down the hall interrupted her just as she opened her mouth to respond. Nancy’s eyes widened, and with a quick whisper of nox, the light in her hand extinguished. She yanked Frank back into an alcove with her, ducking behind a tapestry swiftly.
“Nancy,” he huffed, glaring at her when she forcibly shhh’d him only to ultimately give in and flick his wand at the art they were behind, so a glamour stretched it to cover their shoes, hiding them completely from view.
She peered out from one side of the painting, holding her breath. The footsteps quickened, and, a moment later, Mason Quinto rushed past them, looking around nervously until he made his way to the staircase.
“What’s he doing?” Frank asked suddenly, the soft sound of his voice making her jump. Nancy whipped her head around and found him as close as he could get in the alcove, leaning into her personal space to keep them both concealed behind the tapestry.
For a second she just stared at him dumbly, face flushed. Then she shook her head, tugging at the sleeve of his robe. “Come on.”
They rushed to follow him to the stairs, though, in the time it took them to run the length of the hallway, the flight they needed to take had shifted across the floor to lead up to the third floor instead of down to the first. Nancy swore under her breath, leaning over the edge of the railing. With all the lights off downstairs, she only stared down into a void of darkness, unable to see where he’d gone.
They’d lost him.
“Frank,” Nancy groaned, “Ugh. That was the third time this month!”
It was his turn to shh her, now – he glanced around the corridor before inclining his head at an empty classroom to his left. “Stop it, you’ll get us caught. Let’s go.”
She kicked a discarded textbook childishly while Frank shut and locked the door behind them, glaring into the empty Arithmacy classroom. “I almost had him. I can’t believe this.”
“You’re lucky I’m the one who caught you,” Frank said, insufferable smugness bleeding into his tone. “I saved you a month’s worth of detention.”
Nancy pocketed her wand, planting her hands on her hips. “Mason Quinto is up to something. He was out after curfew, too, you know!”
Frank leveled her with a look she’d seen many times before. “Okay, what? What do you have on him?”
Her lips turned down into a frown. “Well – he’s always sneaking around,” she started hesitantly, “In the seventh floor corridor by the Room of Requirement.”
The fact that Frank didn’t immediately banish her back to bed meant that she’d caught his attention. “Then what was he doing going downstairs?”
“That’s what I’ve been trying to figure out,” Nancy huffed. “Twice a week he goes upstairs, and twice a week he goes downstairs. It’s always the same pattern. He’s planning something.”
“Hang on, you’ve been sneaking out nearly every night each week?” Frank stared at her in disbelief. “I’ve only run into you twice.”
“Which is two times more than you were supposed to,” Nancy muttered to herself, cringing for a moment before tipping her chin up defiantly. “So what? Take points if you want, but I’m going to figure out what he’s doing.”
Frank sighed. He seemed to contemplate that for a few seconds before saying, “Of course you are. Okay, I’m in.”
She blinked at him, surprised into a moment of silence. Out of all the possible outcomes, this was definitely the best one. It was such an exciting development, in fact, that she hadn’t even thought to consider it, figuring it was far from the realm of possibilities. “Really?”
“Sure,” he said. The conspiratorial grin on his face forced her to smile helplessly back. It’d been awhile since the two of them had a project to focus on together, and this was far better than being paired up in Potions. “Let’s do it.”
*
The thing is that she and Frank have always been close.
Their parents were classmates and then friends; she’d known Frank and Joe since before they were even on training brooms.
Often, when Nancy found herself making mischief, the Hardy boys weren’t far behind. Over the years, they’d gotten into their fair share of scrapes together. Causing trouble at school was no different than poking around in either of their neighborhoods, except that their fondly indulgent parents weren’t around, and there were more rules to be careful in bending.
Then Frank had been made a Prefect, and eventually, Head Boy. And things had started to change.
Since the start of term, he seemed to always find ways to excuse himself once things started to stretch beyond the limits of what was technically ‘allowed.’ When Nancy asked for his help getting into the Restricted Section of the library nearly every day last month he’d made excuse after excuse until she finally stopped asking.
Part of her had wondered if maybe he’d outgrown her. It was a minor insecurity that had nagged at her for years; Frank had always been brilliant, strong and steadfast – it seemed like only a matter of time before he stumbled upon greatness and left the rest of them in the dust.
The thought was troubling. She wasn’t too proud to admit that it ate at her, thinking about a life without Frank in it. He’d been one of her best friends for so long, holding a particular place in her heart that Joe or Bess or George or Ned could never quite match.
So – of course it was encouraging when he indulged her. When relented and went back to breaking the rules. Nancy knew it was bound to happen sooner or later; Frank loved a good mystery and poking around where he shouldn’t far too much to ever go straight for long. It didn’t matter what stupid, meaningless badge the Headmaster gave him – Frank was still Frank, and would always be Frank, no matter what.
Evidence whacked her over the head as soundly as a bucket of water one sunny afternoon when she and their friends were studying for midterm exams out by the lake.
Wait – that was an actual deluge of water, raining down over her face from someone’s shoddy aguamenti. Nancy spluttered as water soaked her hair and robes, face going red when she heard snickering off to her left.
“Sorry, Drew,” came the nasally, miserable voice of Deirdre Shannon. Nancy pushed her wet hair out of her eyes and saw her with her wand still aloft, smirking at her. “I thought you were on fire, but it looks like it was just your raggedy hair again – hey!”
A tripping jinx sent Deirdre stumbling over her own feet. Nancy watched with her eyebrows raised as she tumbled down to the grass and rolled into the Black Lake.
There was silence for a moment before she emerged with a screech. “Ewwwww, something just touched my foot!”
Laughter echoed around them as the rest of the students on the grass watched her flail her arms. Nancy looked around for some sign from the person who’d helped her and found Ned frowning on the blanket beside her, looking as though he’d’ve liked to get up and help pull Deirdre out of the lake.
Not him, then.
She twisted around over her shoulder just in time to see Joe elbow Frank in the side with a grin. “Nice,” he laughed, and Nancy was pretty sure she saw Frank smirk back before his arm twitched and his wand disappeared back up his sleeve again.
“Excuse me,” Deirdre demanded suddenly from where she was dripping dry on the shore, “Head Boy? Aren’t you going to do something about this?”
Frank shrugged carelessly. “Didn’t see anything,” he said, “But I should probably take points from Slytherin for the water. Twenty sounds fair.”
“Nice going, Deirdre,” snarked one of the other Slytherins who’d stomped down to the lake with her. Nancy watched her curl her hands into fists at her sides.
A sudden warm rush of hot air blew past her, and Nancy’s attention diverted to George, who’d lifted her wand to cast the perfect drying charm, suddenly turning Nancy’s robes cozy again.
Her hair was a different story. Nancy lifted a hand to it, cringing. Well – it was dry, if not wildly frizzy and out of control. “Oops,” George said apologetically, “Sorry, Nancy.”
“It’s okay,” Nancy said, “Thanks for helping.”
“Yeah, sweet trip jinx,” Bess complimented, waving her own wand and effortlessly smoothing Nancy’s hair down more perfectly than it had even been set before, “That spell was a thing of beauty.”
“Hey, I didn’t cast it,” George defended, though the look she shot Nancy seemed to imply she knew exactly who had. Nancy bit down on the inside of her cheek, hands curling tightly around the book in her lap.
Only one of their friends was that masterful at casting jinxes.
But the thought seemingly hadn’t occurred to Bess, or Ned, for that matter, who frowned at the three of them and said, “Wasn’t that kind of mean?”
“She started it,” Joe interjected, dropping down onto the grass in the middle of their circle in a heap and flinging his head into Bess’ lap. “You know what they say: in this world, it’s hex or be hexed.”
“No one says that,” Frank said, sitting down a little more delicately between Nancy and George. “But she definitely did start it.”
And – that was Frank. Head Boy or not, he’d always been willing to look the other way for her, something she was only starting to realize she’d come to rely heavily on.
Nancy turned her head and found Frank already staring at her, his eyes on the smooth strands of hair Bess had helped her tame.
It was unusually warm for the fall – the sun was making her flush.
Either that, or George had overheated her robes, causing her face to grow hot long after they both finally looked away.
That had to be it.
*
Nancy continued to sneak out four times a week, heading upstairs on Mondays and Wednesdays and downstairs on Tuesdays and Thursdays, but even with Frank’s help, she hardly made any progress in figuring out what Mason Quinto was doing.
What she did do was stay up all night running through the castle with him, laughing until their sides hurt, sneaking in and out of passageways they’d both almost forgotten were hidden in certain nooks, emerging randomly in the dungeons or kitchens or fourth floor corridor covered in dust and squinting fondly at each other through the dark.
If anyone noticed they’d both been out of their beds more often than not, lately, none of their friends mentioned it. In fact, the only time it even came close to coming up was one random Thursday in November at breakfast, when Nancy almost fell asleep into her cereal two or three times.
Bess nudged her with her foot under the table. “Why are you so tired?”
Nancy rubbed her eyes, shrugging. She and Frank had stayed up nearly all night together, lurking in the corridor outside of the Room of Requirement, waiting for Mason to come out. When he hadn’t, they’d gone up to the Astronomy Tower together to watch the sunrise. She’d been wide awake, talking to him, but was fading fast, now – Nancy was pretty sure she was only going to make it about ten minutes into the Herbology lecture that was waiting for them after breakfast before she crashed hard.
A few seats away, Frank didn’t look to be faring much better. He was glaring at Joe as his brother told some elaborate story, waving his hands excitedly, and taking seemingly endless sips from the coffee in front of him.
“I was up late working on something,” Nancy explained finally, tearing her eyes away. There was an impressive five o’clock shadow decorating Frank’s jaw.
From beside Bess, George pulled a face at her. “The Transfiguration essay? It’s totally screwing me, too. Maybe we can work on them this weekend.”
Bess made an affronted noise, setting her fork down dramatically. “This weekend? No. It’s a Hogsmeade weekend, and we have shopping to do. The Yule Ball’s going to be here before we know it.”
“Right,” Nancy sighed. With exams and coursework and her ongoing mystery project thoughts of the dance had somehow slipped her mind. “I forgot about that.”
“Stop it right now,” Bess demanded, “I already have one George, I don’t need two. Tell me you’ve at least thought about who you’re taking with you.”
Before she could answer, Ned said, “Well, sure. We’re going together, aren’t we?”
Nancy blinked at him. Maybe she was more sleep deprived than she thought – she couldn’t remember Ned ever asking her to the dance.
Just as she opened her mouth to ask, Bess groaned, “Oh, thank Merlin. I just know George was one day away from suggesting we all go as a group again –”
“Do we not always have more fun that way?” George asked patiently, though Bess ignored her, pressing on.
“– and I just can’t do that this year, Nancy. I just can’t.” She bit her bottom lip, then turned her head to the side longingly. “Hey – where did Frank and Joe go?”
Nancy glanced over and saw that the two seats they’d been occupying were, in fact, empty. “Strange,” she murmured; why wouldn’t Frank just walk to the greenhouse with the rest of them? Nancy shook her head. “Ned – did we make plans to go to the dance together?”
Ned shrugged sheepishly from beside her, fiddling with his pumpkin juice. “Well – no,” he admitted, “But I guess I just figured we would, if you wanted to. Do you not want to?” His voice lifted hesitantly at the end, wavering uncertainly.
Nancy shifted uncomfortably on the bench. “It’s not that I don’t want to,” she rushed to say gently, even though it was exactly that, “But maybe George is right. We do always have a better time when we all go together.”
Ned deflated, leaning his elbows on the breakfast table. She could feel Bess’ glare boring a hole into the side of her head. “Yeah, you’re right,” Ned said, with a forced cheerfulness that was not at all believable, “Sorry for assuming. We’ll have a ton of fun either way.”
“Well, I’m bringing a date,” Bess sniffed, casting another longing look at the spot Joe had been sitting in before amending, “Maybe.”
“We’re all bringing dates,” George corrected cheerfully, “The best dates of all.”
Nancy couldn’t resist the urge to join her in teasing Bess, who was looking between the two of them as though they’d just force fed her a ton-tongue toffee. “Friends,” Nancy agreed with a wide grin, ducking low against the table so that the scone Bess flung her way soared clear over her head, whacking the poor, unsuspecting Hufflepuff behind her and exploding into a cloud of crumbs.
*
Frank didn’t sit with her in Herbology.
Rather – he was already at the greenhouse when the rest of them arrived, at a table in the back with his nose buried in his textbook.
Callie Shaw from Ravenclaw was sitting next to him, repotting an Angel’s Trumpet. The blooms swayed in an invisible wind as she murmured gently to the plant, opening and closing under her touch.
Nancy felt an odd sort of flip in her stomach as she sat down hesitantly next to George, ignoring the awkward excuses Ned made before he slipped into the seat at the table behind her with Bess.
Maybe she had too much tea at breakfast. Or she really was sleep deprived.
She shifted her things around on the table, feigning nonchalance as she tilted her head to the side to eavesdrop.
The Angel’s Trumpet let out a soft, melodic sigh as it settled into the new pot. Nancy couldn’t exactly turn around to look, but she heard Callie dust off her hands and then tell Frank, “You look like total shit, by the way.”
Nancy frowned. He looked fine, probably. The same as always. As fine as always. Very… Frank-like. Completely fine. Regular. “I was up late,” Frank answered shortly, “Hall duty.”
“Right,” Callie said slowly, in a tone of voice that Nancy knew well. She might as well have just said I know you’re lying. “Except that the Prefects had patrol last night. Iola didn’t come to bed until three.”
Frank didn’t answer her right away. The Angel’s Trumpet sang a happy little melody from their table. “What’s your point?” he asked finally, voice snotty.
“My point is that you’re embarrassing,” Callie said, her voice lowered to a volume Nancy almost couldn’t hear anymore. Someone who wasn’t as nosy as she was definitely wouldn’t have been able to, but Nancy’d had plenty of practice listening in on conversations she wasn’t meant to overhear. “Why do you do this to yourself? You know you’re only going to –”
“Ms. Shaw, please quiet that plant,” Professor Sprout said patiently from the front of the room. “Everyone else, grab your trowels. We’re harvesting Snargaluff pods today.”
There was a collective groan from around the room. Nancy startled, flushing as she ducked her head down to her bag, doing her very best to appear as though she hadn’t been doing anything in particular.
George bent down, joining her underneath the table. “What’s Frank’s deal?” she asked Nancy expectantly.
Nancy blinked tiredly at her. “I don’t know.” It was an honest answer, even though it was the first time she could ever remember saying as much. She pretty much always knew what Frank’s deal was.
“Weird.” When they both sat back up, their Snargaluff was already angry, vines violently swinging around.
“I’m too tired to deal with this,” Nancy said, as one of the plant’s vines snared her trowel and flung it across the classroom, far out of either of their reach. With a sigh, she forced herself up to retrieve it, unable to stop her eyes from flicking to the last table in the back of the room as she went.
Callie had already tamed her and Frank’s Snargaluff into submission. The plant was dormant and dead in the pot between them, and she was calmly cracking the seed pods open above a bowl in front of her.
Frank was fast asleep beside her, his cheek propped up on his hand. Nancy stared at him for so long Callie looked up and caught her, lifting one sharp eyebrow when her face turned red and she shuffled quickly back to her desk.
“A little help would be nice,” George said; whatever she’d been doing while Nancy was having her weird moment seemed to have only made things worse. Their plant was the only one in the classroom that seemed so agitated, vines whipping around the room.
“What am I supposed to – ouch!” A vine smacked across her cheek, yanking on her hair. Nancy ducked out of the way to avoid a poke in the eye, and then Professor Sprout was in front of them, sighing, hand yanking the seed pod out of the trunk and frowning at the both of them when the plant went still.
“A bit quicker next time, girls,” was all she said before she walked away. Nancy lifted a hand to her cheek and found her fingers sticky with blood.
“Fuck this thing,” George muttered under her breath, pushing the pot all the way to the edge of the table with her hand.
Nancy stared into the empty bowl on the table. Callie and Frank’s was probably already full. Maybe Callie was even on her second bowl by now. “Yeah.”
*
Frank did sit with her in Defense Against the Dark Arts. But he kind of didn’t have a choice.
The tables were configured into sets of six, and no one wanted to sit with the Slytherins. The rest of them were sort of his only option, even if he did try to do the same thing he’d done in Herbology and stare at his textbook for the entire lesson.
After trying to catch his eye a few dozen times, Nancy finally huffed and pulled out her wand.
She watched Frank’s brows knit together from across the table as her note magically sprawled out across his parchment. Are you mad at me?
Frank tapped his quill on the side of his book for a moment. Then, letters appeared in her own book, scratched in his familiar handwriting. Why would I be mad at you
Well – that was what she wanted to know. Nervous energy made her leg bounce beneath the table. Because I kept you out late.
Frank’s shoulders seemed to sag where he was sitting. Nancy watched the fingers of his free hand drum on the tabletop, then lift to the stubble she’d been (admittedly) ogling at breakfast and rub across his jaw. You know I don’t care about that
And – she did. But then… what was his deal? Why was he being so…
“Ms. Drew?” The professor asked suddenly, as though she’d just known Nancy hadn’t been paying an ounce of attention to the lecture, “Care to guess?”
She racked her brain for the question and came up empty. Nancy glanced at Bess’ notes for a clue and found that she’d only been doodling on her parchment. “Uh, Chameleon Ghouls?”
The snickers from the Slytherin side of the classroom made her instantly aware of the fact that she was way off base. The professor’s mouth flattened into a terse line. “No,” she said, “Anyone else?”
Nancy’s eyes slid across the room to Deirdre Shannon, whose hand was, of course, raised. “A cursed barrier spell could be modified to prevent entry,” she said, smirking smugly back at Nancy.
“Correct. Ten points to Slytherin.” Ugh. If there was a worse sound in the world, Nancy didn’t know about it.
She looked back down at her parchment and saw that it had been scrubbed blank. What is it, then?
But Frank didn’t answer. Even when she stared at him, he kept his eyes pointedly fixed either on his textbook or the blackboard, turning pages with more force than was strictly necessary.
He evaded her after the lesson, too. Nancy did her best to catch up with him, but Frank seemed quick to be anywhere else, swallowed up in the crush of students in the corridor before she could reach him.
She started to think something might seriously be wrong when Frank didn’t come to dinner.
No matter how many times Nancy looked up at the entrance to the Great Hall, Frank didn’t appear in the room, not even for a second while she distractedly pushed her food around on her plate.
What could have possibly happened this morning that set him off so badly? Joe was around, so it couldn’t have been any bad news from home…
Nancy stared unseeingly at the desserts on the table, lost in thought. Maybe he was just tired.
Or maybe he really was mad at her – not about last night, but about something else. She looked up to ask Joe about it but found his usual seat empty.
Nancy blinked, suddenly recalling their empty seats at breakfast. Realization smacked her in the face as she remembered the topic of conversation just before they’d both left. The dance.
Across the table, Bess had taken the last slice of treacle tart. No sooner had she slid it onto her plate did Nancy reach over and snatch it from her, holding it close to her chest with her mind still racing. “Hey! Nancy, give it back.”
“Sorry – I need this,” Nancy rushed to explain, abruptly standing up from the table and jogging out of the Great Hall after Joe, who was walking back to the tower with a few other guys in his year. “Joe! Hey, wait up.”
The rest of his friends walked on without him as he slowed to a stop, easy grin stretched across his face. “Nancy, what’s up?”
She fiddled with the plate in her hands, suddenly unsure. “Can you bring this to Frank? He missed dinner.”
Obviously. Joe had probably noticed that for himself. She felt her face flush as Joe’s eyes dropped to the treacle tart she was carrying, averting her eyes as soon as his eyebrows lifted curiously. “Why don’t you bring it to him?”
Nancy shifted her weight back and forth from foot to foot. “I can’t get into the boys’ dorms,” she lied.
Joe sighed disapprovingly at her. “Nancy.”
She’d been in the boys’ dorms dozens of times before. They both knew she was able to work her way past the charm – that it wasn’t even all that difficult for her. A highlight reel of all the times she’d done so (to surprise Ned on his birthday, to prank Joe, to bring Frank his assignments that time he’d had a shockingly bad case of the flu) flashed quickly through her mind. She pursed her lips and stared imploringly at Joe instead. “Please?”
But Joe only stubbornly shook his head at her. “No, bring it yourself. I’m not playing messenger for you guys, you’re going to have to talk eventually.”
A sudden burst of panic flared within her, and Nancy cringed as she realized what it was for. She wasn’t nervous because she didn’t know why Frank was mad or what Joe was talking about – she was nervous because she did. Frank wasn’t avoiding her as part of any old fight, and if she went up to the boys’ dorms… she knew exactly what he would want to talk about.
“Sorry, bye,” she said, shoving the plate into Joe’s hands so quickly there was no time for him to do anything but volley it, turning tail and hurrying out of the corridor as quickly as possible once it was out of her grip.
Nope. Nope. No.
For the first time in as long as she could remember, Nancy drew was insurmountably anxious. Frighteningly, Frank hardy was the only thing she could think of to actually elicit such a reaction from her. A Gryffindor through and through, her dad had always said proudly, Brave as can be, this one.
Except for now, apparently. So – they weren’t doing this. Not tonight.
Maybe not ever.
But certainly not tonight.
*
Despite her burning desire to avoid a confrontation about the Yule Ball, Nancy still snuck out on Thursday night once everyone else in the tower had gone to bed, creeping around the halls and down to the dungeons just as the clock struck midnight.
She felt inconceivably anxious as she loitered in the corridor by the Potions classroom, waiting for Frank. Thoughts of whatever Mason Quinto might be up to were pushed to the side in favor of worrying what her friend might say when he saw her, what Frank would want to talk about when he met her downstairs.
Except that it turned out she needn’t have given it so much thought, because Frank never showed.
She waited in the shadows for an hour for him to turn up, but the dungeons remained empty and silent; around one-thirty, Nancy saw Mason leave with a suspicious shape under his cloak, heading back up to Ravenclaw to return to bed.
Her thoughts whirled as she, too, stomped back to the tower. Obviously there was something wrong with Frank. Maybe something had even happened to him. She detoured through each of the main halls on her path back to the common room, but there was no Frank-on-patrol in any of them, and she came uncomfortably close to bumping into the Head Girl, Sam, more than once.
By the time she’d slipped past the portrait outside the Gryffindor common room, she was exhausted and frowning, shooting an anxious glance at the boys’ dorms before turning away, deciding she’d just catch up with Frank in the morning.
But Frank didn’t go to breakfast. He wasn’t in Ancient Runes, either, the one class that only the both of them were taking the advanced version of out of all their friends.
As they day went on, she started to have the feeling that she’d massively messed something up. Determined to do something about it before Frank could cut the only remaining class they had together that week, Nancy herself skipped lunch and headed outside to the one place she figured she’d be able to find him.
Sure enough, Frank was alone out on the quidditch pitch, aggressively hitting bludgers out of his way with a beater’s bat. Nancy stood silently at the edge of the grass, watching him; Frank had ditched his robe and was flying in just a shirt and pants, weaving between the goal posts and the balls pursuing him, stopping only to whack them hard out of his way, the muscles in his arms flexing whenever he sent one soaring particularly far.
Like the one that was headed straight towards her, now, prompting Nancy to leap out of the way with a yelp while Frank descended on his broom, skidding to a stop just inches away from where she was standing in front of the stands.
The bludger hit the canvas by her legs, rolling into the dirt. A moment later, the second fluttered innocently down to the ground beside it, falling still.
Frank was panting as he hopped off his broom, pushing the hand that wasn’t still holding the beater’s bat through his damp hair and wiping sweat from his forehead with his wrist. He frowned at her and asked, “Are you okay? What are you doing out here?”
“I’m fine,” Nancy said, trying not to flush as her eyes darted from the way his shirt was clinging to his arms and back to his eyes again, “I was looking for you. You weren’t in class this morning.” Her heart was suddenly beating very quickly.
Frank moved to the box of equipment he’d pulled from the quidditch shed, dropping the bat back inside before waving his wand lazily at the two bludgers left behind, levitating them back under the latch. “I had stuff to do.”
“Really?” Nancy pushed, before she could stop herself, “Because it looks to me like you’re practicing quidditch moves for a position you don’t even play.”
Frank stiffened, flipping the box closed and locking it. “It’s a nice day,” he said, “I wanted to get some flying in.”
“You stood me up last night.” When he looked up, she arched her eyebrows at him imploringly, as if to say, well? “I waited for you in the dungeons for an hour.”
“Sam was doing rounds,” Frank answered woodenly, avoiding her gaze, “I couldn’t get away.”
“Yeah, I saw her on my way back to bed. She was alone.” Frank didn’t seem to have anything to say in response to that. He shifted on his feet, still doing his best not to look her in the eye. Nancy sighed. “Look, will you just tell me what I did wrong?”
“You didn’t do anything,” Frank muttered, then promptly made a face like he was annoyed at himself and visibly bit down on his tongue, quieting.
“Ned didn’t ask me to the Yule Ball,” she blurted, then, the words launching themselves from her throat before she could stop them. “I don’t know why he assumed we’d go together.”
It was Frank’s turn to sigh. He rocked back on his heels, running a hand through his hair again before shrugging and folding his arms across his chest. “It’s fine. You can take whoever you want to the dance; you know that.”
“But I don’t want to take anyone to the dance,” Nancy said. She was studying Frank’s face so carefully there was no mistaking the way his mouth twisted in disappointment. “We always all go as friends.”
Frank was quiet for a long moment. It felt like it lasted forever, the heavy silence between them. Nancy started to feel impossibly warm under the sun, still staring hard at Frank, daring him to look back at her. When he did, his eyes were closed off; he was obviously holding something back. “Okay,” he said finally, “That sounds nice.”
Nancy deflated, shoulders slumping. “So… you’ll come to Arithmancy this afternoon?”
It was the only other class that just the two of them shared; the rest of their friends wouldn’t have touched advanced Arithmancy with a ten-foot pole, but she and Frank both wanted to be cursebreakers when they graduated.
Frank shrugged again, dragging the toe of his trainers through the grass. “Sure,” he said quietly, “I know you need me there to copy off of.”
A loud laugh of surprise shattered the tension between them. Frank’s lips twitched as she reached out to shove his shoulder, huffing, “Yeah, right! You copy off me, you dick.”
“Keep telling yourself that,” he quipped, and, side-by-side, they made their way back into the castle, the world having righted itself on its axis again.
*
Saturday saw her dragged through the dress shops in Hogsmeade as Bess led Nancy and George around by the ears in search of the perfect dresses for the dance.
She played along for the first few hours; predictably, Bess turned her nose up at every option Nancy and George tried on and modeled for her until they both grew sick of her critiques and bought the outfits they liked best. Nancy’s eventual choice was a soft satin, deep blue with gentle ruffles.
“It’s not terrible,” was what Bess had said, and that was good enough, for her.
She was exhausted when they finally met up with the rest of their friends at The Three Broomsticks, desperate to squeeze into a booth and rest her feet. Someone from across the room called her name as soon as the door swung shut behind George, and Nancy turned her head to find Ned waving at her from a table in the corner of the room.
Frank and Joe were with him, and Frank looked up and met her eyes at the exact same time her gaze shifted to him; there was foam from his butterbeer spread across his upper lip, and he flushed as he lifted his thumb to drag across his mouth.
Something in her chest squeezed tight – so tight it was uncomfortable. Nancy froze, staring at Frank from across the room, and only jolted when George suddenly crashed into her back, jostling her forward.
“Nancy, what’s wrong?” she asked as they both straightened, sounding very far away.
She was still staring at Frank, dumbfounded.
He was so handsome. Had he always been so handsome?
“Nancy,” George said again, coming up beside her, “What – oh.” She followed Nancy’s line of sight and then turned and arched her eyebrows at her. “Don’t you guys gawk at each other enough in private?”
“Huh?” Nancy asked, finally snapping out of it enough to turn her surprised expression on George. She could feel her face growing hot in the sudden warmth of the crowded bar. “What do you mean?”
“Forget it,” George said, smiling indulgently, “I’ll get us drinks. Go ahead.”
She walked off towards the table as if in a daze, only vaguely aware of the way Frank and Ned both slid over, closer to Joe in the center of the circular booth, to make room for her at either end. They both shoved into Joe’s shoulders quickly, causing him to grumble between them. Out of habit, she sat down next to Frank.
“Hey,” he said lowly, hands wrapped tightly around his butterbeer, “How was shopping?”
“Bess almost killed us,” Nancy answered to the table at large, “But I guess I got a dress.”
“Oh. Cool.” An awkward silence fell between them. She cast about desperately for something to say, but her brain was still stuck on the thought of the butterbeer foam clinging to Frank’s lips, helpfully interspersed with the way his arms had looked yesterday, knocking bludgers around on the quidditch pitch.
“Yeah.” Even as Nancy looked around the room at the rest of their classmates, she could tell Joe and Ned were both staring at her strangely. She cleared her throat and asked, “What have you guys been up to?”
“Buying out Honeydukes, mostly,” Joe answered slowly. When Nancy turned back around in the booth, she saw he was looking between her and Frank with his eyebrows arched high.
Just as he opened his mouth – doubtlessly to say something tactless – the tabletop shook, and he turned his head towards Frank to mouth ow while George slid into the open seat beside Ned with drinks for the both of them.
“Hey, guys,” she greeted cheerfully, sliding Nancy’s butterbeer over to her, “What’d I miss?”
“Nothing,” Nancy and Frank both hastened to say in unison, glancing at each other in surprise before quickly looking away again.
For her part, George completely ignored them, and then Nancy found herself in a conversation about a pickup quidditch game that was planned for later that evening, the residual tension passing quickly in favor of an argument surrounding which of their classmates had the best shot at the pros after graduation.
Any lingering weirdness was completely gone by the time they all took the path back to the castle, and Nancy fell into step beside Frank without even thinking about it like she had so many times before, the shrunken parcel from the dress shop shifting inside her robe when he slowed down and she moved to match his pace.
“Are you playing in the game later?” she asked, glancing away from their friends walking on ahead of them to look over at Frank.
He shrugged. “Are you?”
Nancy considered the question for a moment, then returned, “Do they even need that many chasers?” She and Frank both played the same position, for Gryffindor. The third chaser often said she felt like a prop with the way the two of them hardly needed anyone else on the team to play together seamlessly.
“You could always play a different position,” Frank suggested, “Or we could play on opposite teams.”
“Play against each other?” she repeated, “We’ve never done that before.” In all their years of friendship they’d simply elected to work together instead of on opposing sides – it was better that way. Things got done faster and more efficiently when both of their brains were engaged.
“First time for everything,” Frank murmured, hands stuffed in his pockets. He cleared his throat, then produced a small jar of candy, passing it over without looking at her. “Picked these up for you, by the way.”
Nancy shrieked excitedly, snatching the candy out of his hands. “Pepper Imps!” she said, “Awesome. Thank you, you’re the best.”
Frank ducked his head, trying and failing to not look too pleased. “I know they’re no Raging Infernos, but I figured they’d get the job done.”
“Nothing could ever be Raging Infernos,” she sighed wistfully, thinking of the muggle candy she absolutely had to buy at every train station, every hotel, every bodega they came across in their travels. “These are a close second, though.”
“Candy is supposed to be sweet, you know,” Frank said, for what was probably the thousandth time in as long as they’d known each other, “You’re a very odd person for liking these as much as you do.”
“Whatever.” She tossed her hair dismissively, already tearing into the jar. Her head tilted back to catch the piece of candy she tossed up into the air, and when the taste of cinnamon exploded on her tongue, her eyes lit up, steam whistling as it poured out of her ears all at once.
It was loud. “People are looking,” Frank noted, though he sounded amused.
He was staring at her.
“Don’t care,” Nancy grinned, then promptly shoved a Pepper Imp into his face, too, forcing the candy between his lips.
Frank’s mouth brushed her palm before she jerked away. He rolled his eyes at her and then his ears started to steam, too, and his lips twisted into a grimace. He shook his head and swallowed while Nancy’s own face was still smoking. “Those things are vile. I don’t know how you eat them.”
She sniffed, turning her nose up into the air. “I don’t have to share with you, you know.”
The way Frank laughed under his breath, low and fond, sent a current of warmth through her – warmth that had nothing to do with the cinnamon candies burning a hole through her tongue. Nancy bit on her bottom lip to stifle a smile.
Silence fell between them as the gap between the rest of their friends and the two of them grew larger on the path. Nancy continued to let her ears boil like a tea kettle until Frank’s voice tentatively interrupted the companionable quiet. “So,” he said stiltedly, staring hard down at his toes, “About the dance.”
Nancy swallowed, resisting the urge to stick out her tongue. Her mouth felt like it was on fire. “Yeah?”
“Well – I know George said we would all go together, but…”
She snuck a glance over at Frank and saw his expression conflicted, his brow furrowed and his face flushed. A muscle in his jaw jumped as he grit his teeth, sighing when Nancy only continued to wait patiently for him to finish his thought instead of interrupting him.
The urge to change the subject was there, but she fought it off. For so long, she had given Frank an out whenever things got too serious; she had never pressed him.
But just this once, she felt like she wanted to hear what he had to say.
He stopped short on the path back to the castle, turning to face her. Nancy slowed her steps, too, and waited.
“What if we went together, just us?” he spit out finally, looking like he might be sick. “Me and you. The two of us.”
Nancy pretended to think it over as she slowly screwed the lid back on her Pepper Imps, biting back a smile. Frank’s visible desperation continued to mount on his face when she clarified, “You want to take me to the dance?”
He shrugged. His face turned to the side as he looked away, his ears going even redder. A feeling of deep, impossible glee filled her as he lifted a hand to tug at his collar. “Yeah. If you want.”
Finally, Frank looked back at her. Their eyes met, and she smiled brightly at him, nodding. “I’d love to go with you,” Nancy said, unbelievably smitten by the way Frank blinked at her in complete, utter surprise, as though he’d expected her to laugh directly into his face or stomp on his foot in disgust.
“Really?” he asked, lifting a hand to push his fingers through his hair, “That’s – um, that’s excellent.”
“It is,” she confirmed, leaning in to loop her arm through his. “But everyone’s going to notice we’re not with them if we don’t catch up soon.”
Frank shrugged. His eyes slid from her to their friends, disappearing up the path back towards the castle, their rowdy voices starting to fade away, and back again. “Let them.”
It was hard to argue with the surety in his voice. Nancy bit her lip, and leaned in close, resting her head on Frank’s broad shoulder.
Slowly, they made their way to the left, and took the long, scenic, meandering curve past the lake back to the castle’s front gates.
*
The rest of term crept up on her.
Exams arrived before Nancy felt like she was fully prepared for them, and one cold, December morning, while she was frantically trying to cram for her Potions practical while shoving breakfast into her face, the owl post came and dropped identical blue envelopes in front of her and Frank.
He stilled where he was sitting across from her, pushing his own plate hastily to the side. Beneath the table, his shoe prodded her shin. “Nancy.”
She waved her arm dismissively, trying to shake off the school owl who’d delivered her mail and seemed insistent on stealing what was left of her bacon in return. “Hmm?”
“It’s our –” he drew in a deep breath, sounding uncharacteristically nervous, “I think it’s our training placements.”
That got her attention. She looked up, arm falling back to the table. The snowy owl who’d been hovering over her shoulder snatched the last piece of bacon from her plate and flew off towards the window, but she hardly noticed him go.
She picked up her own envelope, turning it over in her hands. Sure enough, the gold Ministry seal holding it shut stared imposingly back at her.
Cursebreakers often spent their first year after graduation on a training dig with more senior-level officials, doing field work hunting for treasure to remove hexes from. The promise of practical experience was an adventure she’d been looking forward to since she and Frank had first applied to the program.
And now it was time to find out which sites they’d been accepted to.
Her hands trembled as she slid her nail under the seal. “On three?”
Frank’s lips quirked up into a grin. He nodded. “One…”
“Two…”
“Three,” he breathed, envelope open in a flash. She stared at him instead of her own mail, watching his eyes quickly scan the page as she tried to parse out his reaction. His lips moved silently as he read what had been written, then he said, “I got Cairo, Koszalin and Temuco. What’d you get?”
Nancy blinked, finally flicking her eyes back to her own mail. Slowly, she opened her letter.
Dear Ms. Drew, we are delighted to offer you admission to –
“Surabaya,” she read aloud, “Oulu, Cairo, Hakodate… and Koszalin.”
“Fuck yeah!” Nancy looked up, startled by his enthusiasm, and found Frank grinning brightly, his cheeks creased and his eyes crinkled at the corners. “We’re totally going to Poland.”
It was hard not to smile back when he looked at her like that, so she did, a little stunned. “You don’t… want to pick Temuco? The archaeology there…”
Frank shook his head. “Koszalin’s got all kinds of old shit. I’ve been itching to get into those catacombs under the cathedrals there ever since I saw the brochure.”
“What an unbelievably creepy sentence,” she mused, wondering what it said about her that she found the thought endearing, and privately agreed with it, too. Her heart did a funny little flutter in her chest.
Predictably, Frank saw straight through her. His grin widened. “Don’t tell me you don’t feel the same.”
She tilted her head to the side in acknowledgement. “Cairo has its merits, too.”
“Yeah, I guess,” Frank said flippantly, cheeks still flushed with excitement, “Everyone’s going to be in Cairo, though. It’s the most popular dig.”
And it was the site with the highest acceptance rate. Koszalin was certainly the more impressive choice, personal enthusiasm notwithstanding. “That’s true…”
Frank’s thousand-lumos smile faltered momentarily. “I mean – if you want to go to Hakodate, though… you totally should. That’s a huge accomplishment. I didn’t mean to assume…”
Nancy shook her head as he trailed off meaningfully. “You didn’t,” she assured him, biting down on her bottom lip, “You were just excited. So am I.” She glanced at the paper in her hands again. “But I guess I should think about it.”
“Definitely,” Frank agreed quickly, “I’m sorry, you should totally pick whichever one you want. I just –”
He cut off abruptly as George sprinted up to them, out of breath. “There you two are,” she said exasperatedly, and Nancy looked around in surprise to find that most of the Great Hall had cleared out around them, “What are you still doing here? Our Potions exam starts in five minutes.”
“Shit,” Nancy swore, leaping up from the bench, “You’re a life saver, George. We have to hurry.”
Though she had absolutely no idea how she was supposed to focus on her N.E.W.T now.
With one last glance at Frank, the three of them rushed off towards the dungeons.
The exam was taxing; Nancy found herself very nearly irreversibly fucking up her wolfsbane and general cure for magical maladies on more than one occasion. By the time it was over, she was so grateful for it to be done that she forgot all about having to decide between going with Frank to Poland or spending the next year of her life in Japan alone – at least until they caught up with Joe at lunch.
As soon as they saw him at the Gryffindor table, he cheered loudly, jumping over Bess and her plate and ignoring her indignant squawk to wrap his brother up in a big hug, clapping him excitedly on the shoulder. “So?” he demanded, “Spill! What placement did you get?!”
George stared at her shrewdly as Frank glanced quickly at Nancy before turning back to Joe. Nancy studiously avoided her eyes. “Koszalin,” he said finally, “Poland.”
Joe groaned excitedly, then squeezed Frank’s shoulder again. “Oh man,” he gushed, “Like, medieval times, Poland? That is going to be so fucking cool. I’m so jealous! Can I come visit you on winter break?”
Frank rolled his eyes at his brother. “I haven’t even gotten there yet, Joe.”
Joe then realized Nancy was standing there, too, and detached himself from Frank’s arms to turn towards her with a grin. “What’d you get, Nancy? Let me guess – you were accepted into all of them.”
“Not all of them,” she laughed, eyes flashing gratefully. Joe always knew how to break tension, even when he was blissfully unaware of said tension in the first place. “Just… most of them. Cairo, Koszalin, Surabaya, Oulu and Hakodate.”
“No way,” Joe groaned again, sounding physically pained, “That’s only a list of the coolest places in the entire world. How are you ever going to pick?”
Nancy swallowed, pretending like she didn’t see the look that flickered across Frank’s face as he dropped down into the empty seat beside Bess, faux-casually reaching for the pumpkin juice. “I have no idea.”
*
She still hadn’t made her decision by the night of the ball, even though her response was due promptly at the start of the new year. Despite the many, many sleepless nights she’d spent turning the decision over in her mind, Nancy was no closer to making a choice than she had been when she and Frank had first gotten their offers.
So she was looking forward to spending the holidays at home, talking over her decisions with her dad and Hannah and having some time to herself before she was due to meet up with everyone in Hogsmeade for New Year’s Eve and then head back to school for their last term as students.
But first she had to at least try to enjoy herself at the dance, and that included surviving Bess’ determination to curl her hair for her and endure the simultaneous annoyance that Bess held now that she and Frank had decided to go to the ball together.
“Behind my back, Nancy,” she huffed, not for the first time, as she narrowed her eyes and waved her wand over Nancy’s hair again.
Nancy watched in the ornate mirror of the Prefect’s bath as her hair spun into tight curls that wobbled valiantly for one moment before falling out all at once, her hair dropping sleek and straight back to her shoulders. “It kind of just happened,” she explained helplessly, shrugging. It had.
“Yeah, yeah.” Bess sighed heavily when George glared at her from where she was sitting by the sink. “We’re very happy for you, obviously.”
She waved her wand forcefully at Nancy’s hair again. It flickered from gold to black to her natural color, but remained straight. “Okay,” Nancy said firmly, standing up and slipping out of Bess’ station in front of the mirror, “That’s enough, I’ll wear it like this.”
“Before it all falls out,” George grinned, unintimidated by the frown Bess sent her way. “You guys need to hurry up. We’re going to be late.”
Of course George had been ready for hours, content to watch Bess torture her with eyeliner and hair potion and several shades of berry-colored lipstick. Nancy rolled her eyes at her as she disappeared into one of the shower stalls, dress levitating behind her.
“I would’ve been ready faster if Bess would’ve stopped fussing with my hair,” she called out as she slipped into her gown, straining to pull the zipper up behind her back.
“I was not fussing,” Bess insisted from the other side of the bathroom, “And you owe me one for ditching us, anyway.”
“We’re all still going to the dance together, Bess,” Nancy reminded her indulgently, finally yanking the zipper up the last inch and emerging from the stall with the long skirt of her dress held in her hand, stumbling slightly in the shoes she’d slipped on to match. “I forgot what a pain this thing was to get on.”
Bess and George stared at her from the bathroom counter. She fidgeted, standing up straighter, dropping the fabric to fall gracefully to the floor. “What?”
“Nothing,” Bess said quickly, “You just – you look so pretty. That dress is gorgeous on you.”
Nancy felt herself flush, her hand touching the skirt of her dress carefully. “Thanks. Does my hair look okay?”
“Well, it’s not green,” George grinned, and the spell was broken, Bess’ protests reverberating in the empty bathroom while Nancy took the opportunity to stare at herself in the mirror, touching up her lipstick.
The dress was a far departure from anything she’d wear normally, and she couldn’t help but feel a little self-conscious as she examined herself. Part of her thought the garment seemed out of place on her narrow shoulders and freckled skin; she didn’t look anything like the models in Witch Weekly.
But part of her could also sort of see what Bess had been talking about, as she admired her smooth hair and rosy cheeks and the way the blue dress made her eyes seem brighter. Hopefully Frank would agree with that part.
“Okay!” Bess said finally, when they were dangerously close to being late to their last dance as Hogwarts students. She clapped her hands excitedly, glossed lips spreading into a grin. “Time to make some jaws drop. Let’s go.”
They descended the stairs like something out of a film, and Nancy was surprised to find that her stomach started doing backflips as soon as she saw Frank waiting with Joe and Ned at the entrance to the Great Hall, his hands buried in the pockets of his dress robes. He looked impossibly handsome, bickering with his brother, and Nancy’s mouth went dry as she stared at him, doing her best not to trip over her own feet while she, Bess and George climbed down the stairs.
Frank looked up as she hesitated on the bottom step, holding out his hand to help her forward. “Hi,” he said, eyes wide as though she’d just pointed her wand between them, “Um. You look – that dress – uhhh, it’s beautiful. You’re beautiful.”
Nancy slid her palm against his, squeezing his fingers for balance. “Thanks,” she murmured, her face feeling impossibly hot just from one simple compliment, “I’m glad you like it. You look nice, too.”
“Yeah?” he asked quietly, eyes searching her face, “I was kind of nervous.”
“Me, too,” she confessed, grateful to hear that, once again, they were on the same page. There was something so comforting in knowing she could always count on Frank to understand her.
For a moment, they stood there smiling stupidly at each other in silence. Then Frank startled, shaking his head, and reached inside his robes. “Sorry, I almost forgot.” He muttered a spell, and his hand opened to reveal a delicate bracelet with blooming white flowers winking at her. Tiny bluebell flames burned between the petals.
Nancy held out her wrist, dumbfounded. “Did you charm that yourself?”
“Yeah,” Frank answered shyly, sliding it on past her hand. It was a perfect fit; once it was secured, the flames settled, the flowers blossoming. “Took me a couple tries to stop it from burning, but George said your dress was blue so I really wanted to get it right.”
“He almost burned my eyebrows off,” Joe interjected from beside him, while Nancy’s mouth opened and closed as she tried to think of something to say to convey how touched she was.
Frank shrugged, knocking his shoulder into Joe’s good-naturedly. “You lived.”
“This is really thoughtful,” was what she settled on finally, feeling her face flush with pleasure.
Frank averted his eyes, but he was fighting a smile, too. She watched with delight as the tips of his ears turned red. “It was nothing.”
“It took him eleven days,” Joe cut in again, earning himself a sharp elbow to the side. “What? It did. You had to get a book out of the Restricted Section to figure it out.”
“Joe.” The red on Frank’s ears was slowly spreading down his neck.
“It’s okay,” Nancy said, before anything violent could happen on her behalf, “I really do love it. It’s wonderful.”
Frank softened, and there was another moment of silence as they stared at each other again, until Joe made a disgusted noise in the back of his throat and flounced off, the rest of their friends chattering excitedly around them and starting to meander into the Great Hall. Nancy stepped forward and looped her arm through Frank’s to follow them.
“You’ll have to show me how you did this,” she said, admiring her corsage against the contrast of his robes, “Bluebell that doesn’t need to be kept in a jar would be terribly convenient.”
“It was complicated, but I know you’d pick it up in no time,” Frank answered, shooting her a grin. “I’m tempted not to teach you just so I can keep impressing you, though.”
“Like you won’t just find some other way to impress me once I’ve mastered this,” Nancy shot back playfully in return, completely ignoring the rest of their friends crowded around the punch table to let Frank lead her onto the dance floor instead, where a dozen or so couples were already twirling to the music from the band.
Frank pulled her naturally into position, shrugging. Seamlessly, he picked up the steps, leading her effortlessly through the dance, though that was no surprise. Frank’s parents had always ensured their sons knew which fork to use for which course and how to waltz and all the polite pleasantries to say since he and Joe first learned to walk and talk. “Someone has to keep you on your toes.”
“And that person is you?”
Nancy watched in fascination as the expression on Frank’s face turned sweet and almost shy again. “I’d like it to be,” he admitted quietly, hand warm where it was fanned out over the small of her back, “For as long as you want.”
Her heart was pounding. She couldn’t recall ever being so simultaneously nervous, excited and happy. “I think that could be arranged.”
Frank’s lips spread into a slow smile. “Yeah? That sounds…” he trailed off as something over her shoulder caught his attention. His hand on her arm tightened in warning when she went to turn around and look, too. “It’s Mason,” he murmured, bending low towards her ear, “He’s sneaking out.”
“We should follow him,” Nancy said immediately, dropping her hand to lace her fingers through Frank’s, “Come on.”
They rushed from the great hall as quickly as they dared while still doing their best to look casual, and slipped into the corridor just in time to see Mason dash back up the stairs. “This way,” Frank directed, and pulled her onto an opposing staircase that swung around at just the right time to bring them up to the next floor, too, out of sight of the other path.
“You’re getting worryingly good at this,” Nancy laughed, warmed by the way Frank squeezed her hand as he tugged her into the shadow at the side of the hall.
“I learned from the best.” He paused just long enough to cast a silencing charm on their shoes, then urged her forward again.
Their steps quickened as they raced after Mason. Eventually, he stopped in front of the Room of Requirement, looking around before ducking inside.
“I think we should try to get in,” Nancy said, once they were alone in front of the blank stretch of wall. “We haven’t gotten anywhere just following him, and it’s already the end of term.”
“And just confront him head on?” Frank asked, frowning. “What if he’s doing something dangerous?”
“It’s two against one,” Nancy reminded him, “I like those odds. Especially when we’re the two.”
Frank sighed. She could tell by the look on his face that he knew she was right. “Okay,” he said, pulling out his wand, “Come on then.”
Together, they paced back and forth in front of the wall three times. The same door that had appeared for Mason materialized in front of them when they stopped, wooden and unassuming. Nancy reached out and turned the knob before Frank could change his mind.
The room had transformed itself into a sprawling potions lab with rows of cauldrons bubbling away on either side. Nancy gaped at the sheer volume of supplies it must’ve taken to set something like this up, and suddenly understood what Mason had been doing lurking in the dungeons each week. “What –”
“Look out,” Frank said suddenly, shoving them both to the ground. A cauldron flew over their heads and hit the wall behind them, the potion inside smoking on contact with the brick.
Nancy looked up to see Mason glaring at the both of them, wand at the ready. “What are you doing up here?” he demanded.
“You’ve been stealing potions ingredients,” she accused boldly in lieu of an answer, ignoring the disapproval radiating off of Frank and his obvious desperation to get them out of the room as soon as possible. “What are you making?”
“Nosy Nancy Drew even has to ask? I guess you aren’t as smart as everyone thinks you are,” he sneered.
“It’s veritaserum,” Frank said, before she could hex Mason into oblivion, “But it’s illegal to have this much of it. You’re not supposed to brew it at all, outside of class –”
“Oh, spare me the self-righteousness.” Mason rolled his eyes, then lifted his wand and pointed it at Frank.
Nancy panicked, looking around for a way to stop him. Frank could cast a shield charm in seconds, but what could she do?
Her eyes fell on the bracelet she was still wearing and the flames dotting the band. With a grin, she slipped it off, tossing it onto Mason’s robes.
It landed inconspicuously with little more than a small clink against the stone floor. The sound broke his focus, and they all turned to look at the bracelet at the same time.
“Finite incantatum,” Nancy cast calmly, and the charm Frank had cast on the flames to keep them at bay ended, the fire suddenly raging out of control to consume his clothes.
Mason dropped his wand in his distraction, and Nancy picked it up as it rolled towards her. In the chaos, Frank cast a body-bind that restrained him, and finally put out the flames.
“Nice one,” he said breathlessly, grinning brightly at Nancy.
She bent down and picked up what was left of her corsage. The metal band was burnt, the flowers dead and sad. “I ruined your gift. And you worked so hard on it.”
“I’ll make you another one,” Frank promised. Without warning, he reached out and pulled Nancy close, dipping her so he could kiss her, his lips warm and soft against hers.
Her eyes went wide and then slammed shut, and she wound her arms around his neck to kiss him back eagerly, a soft sound of happiness exhaling into Frank’s mouth as he clutched at her arms.
Frank’s face was flushed when they broke apart, the look in his eyes so cautiously optimistic that it made her whole body thrum with fondness. She grinned at him, and then surged up to kiss him again, completely ignoring their stunned classmate on the floor.
*
Frank kept his arm around her as they recounted the details of what they’d found to the Headmaster, who’d already sent their Potions professor up to the Room of Requirement to assess the damage and deal with Mason.
When they emerged from his office, the rest of their friends were waiting for them in the hallway. Joe was the first to laugh at them. “Only Nancy would leave a dance early to go bust an illegal potions lab, I swear.”
Bess shook her head in disappointment. “Nothing about Nancy surprises me anymore.”
Slowly, they all made their way back to the dance. Bess and George, who’d been walking beside her and teasing her for her absurd luck, rushed on ahead as soon as Frank pulled himself away from his brother and caught up with Nancy again, and then the two of them were more or less alone.
“Are you okay?” Frank asked her, reaching for her hand. “You’re sure you don’t want to go to the Hospital Wing?”
“I’m fine,” Nancy answered, stifling a laugh. “The worst thing that hit me was you when you shoved us both to the floor.”
Frank’s face went red. “I know, I’m sorry. Did I really hurt you?”
“No!” she exclaimed, giving in and letting the laugh escape. “You were great.” She paused, then continued, “And we make a pretty great team.”
The flush on Frank’s face seemed to deepen. He ducked his head shyly. “We do.”
A beat of silence passed between them; Nancy continued to stare at Frank with a dopey, awestruck grin on her face.
Then it hit her. She wanted to go to Koszalin.
Frank snuck a glance up at her, curiosity unfurling across his face. “What?”
Nancy blinked. “Huh?”
“Why are you looking at me like that?” he clarified, eyebrows arching. “What did I do?”
“Nothing,” she assured him, shaking her head, “I just – think we should dance. It’s the last song of the night.”
Frank was still looking at her strangely, but he nodded, leading her back out onto the dance floor. “Alright.”
They slipped in amongst their classmates and she let Frank pull her in close between his arms, resting her cheek against his shoulder with a sigh. Nancy’s mind raced as she considered the implications of her realization.
Her dad was going to lose it. Hannah was probably going to lose it, too. She’d never been so far from home for anything other than school before.
…but Koszalin was only a firecall away. And it wasn’t like she’d be alone, anyway.
She’d be with Frank.
Frank, who was currently staring down at her with a look halfway between adoration and worry as he slowly spun them both around the room. “Should I be concerned?” he asked finally, sounding only mildly amused.
Nancy drew in a deep breath. “I think I want to go to Koszalin,” she blurted, before she had time to stop herself.
Frank stilled. Nancy, who was halfway through a dance step, tripped over him and stumbled past his shoulder. His hand shot out to catch her before she could fall over, and he gently pulled her back into his arms as the rest of their classmates looked around curiously. “Sorry,” he said, “Sorry, sorry, just – what? Are you sure?”
Nancy laughed breathlessly, lifting a hand to smooth her hair back into place. “Pretty sure,” she answered, “I think – yeah. Yeah, I’m sure. What we did tonight… I want to do that all the time.”
Frank’s eyebrows lifted. He looked like he could hardly believe what he was hearing, and Nancy realized all at once that they’d stopped dancing and were standing still off towards the side of the room, the rest of their year simply moving around them. “It was pretty great,” he said finally, the grin on his face sheepish.
She nodded enthusiastically. “It was. We just – I know we could do something so amazing together.”
“Definitely,” Frank agreed, “I just… didn’t want to pressure you. I mean, I don’t. I hope you don’t feel that way.”
“I don’t,” Nancy rushed to assure him, “I’ve given this a lot of thought already, but… tonight just sealed it for me. And I’m really excited to see what our future’s going to hold.”
The conflicted expression on Frank’s face cleared, then, and he smiled at her brilliantly, his eyes crinkling at the corners as his cheeks rounded until his dimple popped out.
Her eyes widened as she stared back at him, completely caught by how handsome he looked under the enchanted ceiling in the great hall. It seemed surreal to think that they only had one semester left at school together, and then they’d be out in the world, in Koszalin exploring together, and then probably traveling, too, hunting down new mysteries and finding ways to crack them side-by-side.
“Me, too,” Frank said, and this time, she was the one to dip and kiss him, only distantly aware of Joe’s wolf-whistles in the background and the loud laughter and claps she could hear from Bess and George.
Life after graduation was probably going to be pretty fun.