Frankie and Tom found themselves stuck in a paralyzed silence and had only barely just managed to move themselves out of the way of the other students stepping out of the platform pillar. Although, their muggle orphanage headmistress had obviously seen them come hurdling through solid stone, she wasn't having a panic attack or calling the nearest guard to save her from the demonic teenagers. Their powers werent as easy to write off this time. She was staring straight at them with a horribly vacant smile. Being the woman who taught Tom how to smile, it was naturally a terrifying sight to behold. However, they were not afraid of Mrs. Cole. No matter how much she terrorized them, they would never be afraid of her. Her sudden appearance was unsettling and odd more than anything. They honestly thought they would never have to see her again and there she was, just standing at the border of the magical. Waiting.
"My—you two got back later than I expected. I hope I'll still be able to make supper in time." she smiled, in a terrifyingly chipper voice. The two unconsciously took two steps backwards, almost stepping right back onto Platform 9 ¾. Tom put a protective arm over Frankie.
"You came here to fetch us?" Tom questioned, even though it was quite obvious that's why she was there.
"Of course, I did, dear! Why else would I be at the station?" Mrs. Cole answered, cheerily.
"I'm afraid you're confused. We never used to come back for the winter holiday." Tom tried arguing. It proved to be very ineffective, considering her expression didn't falter even the slightest. "Also, we don't live at the orphanage anymore. We left a few months ago, after we turned seventeen and went back to school—"
"—Nonsense! You two always come home this time of year. Don't you remember, last year, I let you have a bit of wine. You went a bit tipsy and started singing carols."
"I did no such thing!" Tom shouted. Frankie was holding her hand over her mouth, looking at first like she was about to be sick. However, she couldn't restrain a hysterical fit of laughter at the image of a drunken Tom prancing around, singing Christmas songs.
"Come on, Tom! Don't you remember?" Frankie laughed jokingly, tugging on his sleeve.
"Oi, stop it!—There's obviously something mentally wrong with her." Tom hissed, in hopes changing the subject would forever erase the image from her mind. He looked back at Mrs. Cole, who was still staring at them uneasily cheery. Tom knew that if she were in her right mind, she would've given him hell for calling her mental. They needed to get away from her. "Would you excuse us for a moment, Mrs. Cole? I think I left one of my books on the train..."
"Of course, dear. Just don't take too long now." she chimed. She didn't seem to question why he needed to take Frankie and all their luggage just to retrieve one missing book.
"We'll be right back." Tom mused, charmingly smooth. They pretended to be walking towards a platform they hadn't actually come from and a train they hadn't been riding. He turned to Frankie, once he was completely sure they were out of earshot. "She's either been incredibly confunded or someone is using Polyjuice potion to try and trick us."
"I could tell that much. What do you reckon we should do?—Take her out?" Frankie added. Tom couldn't help but smile at her. He loved despite how sweet she appeared, somehow she could still make threats sound at least half-convincing.
"I don't know. Dumbledore told us to act like we were going back to the orphanage. He never said we'd actually have to go back there." Tom whispered, still looking over at Mrs. Cole with suspicion. She seemed too dazed to have remembered their exit. Perhaps, she'd just leave if they disappeared. He sighed. Although, Tom certainly was not one to shy away from an opportunity of independence, even he needed guidance when the situation required it. Dumbledore explained nothing to anyone and still assumed everything would go exactly to plan.
"So, do you think it's a trap?" Frankie asked, following Tom's gaze over to Mrs. Cole as well.
"I'm not sure." Tom answered. If Grindelwald somehow found out about two "children" being on Dumbledore's side, it would make sense to go after them first. He could easily capture them and weed out his enemy's plans before they were even set into motion. Not to mention, one of them was Frankie Dickson. Someone who he wanted dead. However, that would mean Grindelwald would've had to find out everything about them in the span of twenty-four hours to arrange such a set up. He couldn't be that good. Could he?
"What are you two whispering about over there? It's time to go home!" Mrs. Cole yelled, once she spotted them again.
"We're coming, Mrs. Cole!" Tom yelled back. He noticed Frankie still held an uncertain waver. "We'll be alright. I think we should go with her..."
They followed behind her as Mrs. Cole skipped merrily along towards the station's exit, still holding that smile. The trip back to the orphanage seemed no different than it had been in the past. They took the same route and saw the same sights. Nothing was different besides her fake and cheery attitude. They creaked to a halt at the place that would never change its familiarity no matter how much they wanted it to.
Tom glared at the orphanage as all the memories of suffering and loneliness came rushing back to him all at once. He had never wanted to return here, not even for a moment. Tom suddenly felt a strong urge to punch the structure and, although he wasn't remotely strong whatsoever, have it fall at his touch. However, as Frankie clutched tightly on to the arm, he so desperately wanted to punch the orphanage with, he remembered he wasn't the only one who had suffered this place. She had made it a little bit more bearable back then. It was only because of her that he didn't waste away here long ago.
"Come this way! Don't act like such strangers. You've only been away a few months." Mrs. Cole called, gesturing for them to walk a little faster. She was already at the door.
"Stay close to me..."
Cautiously, they began to walk up to the front door. Where were all the orphans? All the employers? It was too quiet. Suddenly, a great flash of red had struck Mrs. Cole as she entered the house. A cloaked figure caught her as she fell to the ground and dragged her off to the side. Tom wasted no time and asked no questions, as he rushed into the house, shooting red sparks from his own wand. The figure blocked every last one with only a simple swish. As Tom's blurred vision became clearer, he saw the person he was shooting at was actually Dumbledore.
"I see you've been practicing your non-verbal spells, Tom." Dumbledore smiled.
"Not really. A lucky shot, I suppose." Tom murmured, stuffing his wand back into his pocket.
"Modest as always, I see." Dumbledore laughed, as if he hadn't seen him in years.
"Do you mind telling me why you confunded our old orphanage headmistress into leading us back to this dump?" Tom asked, with a highly agitated sigh, hoping it would fill in some of the mystery.
"It wasn't me. I planned to meet you both at the station. I reckon she was placed under the Imperius Curse by one of Grindelwald's London associates."
"How does he already know about us, sir?" Frankie inquired. Although, she had wanted to do prior reading on all the wizarding world's dark wizards, unfortunately she still got a phantom pain in her head every time she opened a book detailing them. Despite the fact she'd most definitely heard the name Grindelwald in relation to her parents murder, in reality she had no clue who they were going up against.
"He's got his methods..." Dumbledore replied, vaguely. Tom naturally scowled at his continuing reluctance to tell them anything in spite of the fact they had actually verbally pledged their allegiance to him this time. He obviously still didn't trust them. "I hope you don't mind, but I've had to rearrange a few things. It's a good thing I never managed to take off all the protective spells—"
"Protective spells?—What protective spells?—Last time we were here there was still a bloody hole in the ceiling from when the Nazis threw a bomb through the roof!" Tom argued, pointing bitterly to a spot that had made a miraculous recovery since their departure. Dumbledore had evidently gotten bored waiting for them.
"Yes, I daresay without my enchantments the whole place would've been blown to pieces. You were also fairly lucky to have still been at school during the incident." Dumbledore added. The anger bubbled even more in Tom, regardless of a fair explanation. How could he not have mentioned such a crucial detail about the orphanage during their stay there? Tom couldn't help but feel the sting of betrayal he usually felt with Dumbledore. He put so much work into keeping them in that awful place when in reality he could've let them both out a long time ago.
"Because if I was ever forced to describe my life here in one word, that word would clearly be 'lucky'—"
"Shall we be off then? It's best if we not stay here too long, regardless of any lingering spells or luck. Grindelwald must know we're here." Frankie smiled, quickly realizing Tom was about to go off.
"We're still waiting on a few others. I took the liberty of making this the meeting place, so everyone else could gather safely." Dumbledore explained, checking his needlessly complicated timepiece.
"Everyone else?" Tom questioned.
"You didn't think it'd just be the three of us against all of Grindelwald's army—did you, Tom?"
A sudden crash from down the hallway made Tom and Frankie flinch. They both hastily withdrew their wands from their pockets in preparation for defense. However, Dumbledore remained quite calm.
"Honestly, the only thing that has changed from your school days is your size! I swear you've gotten ten times taller." a stern voice yelled, from down the hallway.
"Now, now, Minerva. He can't help it."
"Sorry. I'll go wait out in the back..."
They could distinctly hear something large stomp its way into the backyard. Tom sighed, recognizing at least one of the voices and knowing he would not be pleased to see him. Meanwhile, Frankie gasped as more than one of their comrades had been revealed to her in a matter of seconds. All of them were her old friends. She ran immediately to the backyard.
"Hagrid!" Frankie shouted, excitedly. He was slightly hunched, examining the small garden table, but still taller than ever. She ran as fast as she could and collided into the arms of a friend, she was so certain she'd never see again. He had regained is cheery disposition and size from being in Azkaban. He was no longer the gaunt, weary figure sitting helplessly chained to a chair. Thankfully, he was also not surrounded by Dementors. Tom and Dumbledore appeared a few moments later, having chosen to walk instead of run. Tom scowled at the sight of him. Her voice turned groggy and weak. "When did you get out of prison? I've missed you so much!"
"Frankie! I can't tell ya' how much I've missed you too..." he smiled, lifting her of the ground as he hugged her back.
"When did you get out?" she asked again, slightly swishing her legs back and forth in the air.
"Not too long ago actually," Hagrid answered. "But, it's thanks to you they let me out. I can't thank you enough. I wasn't all there at my trial, but I could hear what you said..."
"What? But my attitude—the way I acted during the trial. I should've been the reason they locked you up for good." she protested.
"Don't say that! You spoke the truth and they couldn't find a flaw in that even if they tried." he explained. "Besides, they still didn't let me get away completely scot-free. I'm not allowed to do magic anymore. They've expelled me from school and destroyed my wand."
"That's not fair! You've proven your innocence. What more could they want?" Frankie gasped. He played it off so nonchalant, but she could not think of a greater punishment for a wizard then not being able to do magic.
"I wasn't completely innocent. Aragog might not have killed that girl, but I was still raising him illegally." He sounded regretful. Perhaps, like Frankie, he'd come to blame himself even though neither were the culprit of that unfortunate accident. It was easier then seeking justice and truth. They'd tried to tell the wider wizarding world, but their efforts were mostly in vain. Many people who'd seen the facts still chose to label them the wicked people in charge. It was better to close the door and keep moving forward.
"It isn't all bad. Dumbledore has actually found a way for me—" he started, his eyes shifting over to a pink umbrella lying against the wall next to the back door. However, finally noticing Tom lurking in Dumbledore's shadow made him go silent. "I think I'll tell ya' about that later, though..."
"Anything you can say to her, you can say to me, Rubeus. I probably won't tell on you—again." Tom smirked, sitting down in his usual spot at their table. If Hagrid wasn't looking at Tom, you would think he was trying to crush Frankie to death. She looked at him almost just as fearsome, but he'd already jammed his foot in the door and was too spiteful to go back. "I thought a little jail time might do you good. But, even after all this time, you still can't admit you raised a murderous monster."
"You know what, Riddle—"
"What're you still doing out here, Hagrid?—Frankie should be arriving any minute..." The person who held the first voice came drifting out from the house, quickly followed by the other. Her black hair was tied up in a neat bun and she held a rather harsh expression. Despite her professional appearance, her face instantly softened, and she screamed when she saw who was basically being picked up in Hagrid's arms. "You're here!"
"Minerva! I thought that was you. Aren't you working at the Ministry now?" Frankie questioned, as Hagrid set her back to the ground to go see her.
"Well, Dumbledore made me the offer, and I couldn't just turn it down. The Ministry is boring anyway. I'm sure they will do just fine without me." Minerva sighed, sounding bored just talking about it. Did she not enjoy her Ministry job? It had always been her dream to work there.
Before Frankie could inquire about her tone, she noticed the person standing next to her. Minerva was surprisingly accompanied by famous Magizoologist, Newt Scamander. Frankie only got the chance to meet him once during the summer she and Tom were staying at the Leaky Cauldron, but his legacy was infamous. His book was a bestseller and Professor Kettleburn had immediately integrated it as required reading into all his classes. She immediately took to him as another person who'd be more than happy to talk about magical creatures with her. Tom could see her mind fill instantly with a thousand different questions for him.
"Well met, Frankie. How are your creature studies going with Kettleburn?" he smiled.
"I'd like to say they're going well. Sometimes I have to save him from losing another appendage...but other than that—the N.E.W.T levels have been going great. He's managed to stay off probation at least." she replied.
"Glad to hear you're both doing well."
"Can I say hello to Prim? Did you bring her with you this time?" She suddenly peered behind him for someone else. Tom sighed. Despite not bothering to remember its name, he knew exactly who she was looking for. Out of all the outstanding critters owned by Mr. Scamander, she'd taken a liking to the one who'd caused the most trouble.
"Yes, I've got her in here. She's got a litter of her own now and could probably use a little help, if you think you're up for it." Newt answered, gently patting his old suitcase. She nodded vigorously with acceptance. "More of that later though. I think the professor is going to speak with us once Bathilda comes back with the last member."
Frankie sat down in her usual spot with Tom. He smiled unconsciously as she took up her seat. No one else dared to sit there since Tom had claimed it many years ago. No one except a crazy girl who'd come out of the bushes. He felt a little better than he had when they'd first arrived back. There was no longer that horrid weight of being chained to the table with nowhere else to run. He was still free. Just waiting.
It took a while before they actually heard the next arrival. Tom was somewhat curious who might be arriving late with Bathilda Bagshot. Perhaps to add more onto what seemed more Frankie's army, rather than Dumbledore's, he would call back the notorious Rodger Day. Last time he'd bothered to write, he was in the midst of his Auror training and Frankie had not replied back because she was worried about bothering him. She must've been wondering about him as well. Just as soon as the idea of Rodger Day's return had popped into Tom's head, Frankie inquired after him with Minerva. He'd apparently been transferred to America and made no inclination of a return.
Crack!
"You filthy lying old bat! You said we were going to Grindelwald. This is a muggle hovel in the middle of London!"
"Aberforth! Don't be such a child. You're not fighting Grindelwald. Not again..."
"Then, what's the point—"
There were a couple loud bangs, a series of undecipherable yells, and the crash of what was probably Mrs. Cole's last glass vase. A few minutes later, a disheveled Bathilda Bagshot appeared in the backyard with someone following grudgingly behind her. At first glance, Frankie thought he looked like Dumbledore's twin. He had long, greying auburn hair and the same blue eyes. However, upon closer examination, there were some glaring differences between them. His nose was straight, he had no half-moon spectacles, and had to be at least a good foot shorter than Dumbledore.
"Ah, Albus there you are! We got a bit lost on the way here. I've never been too well with Disapparition." she explained, almost sounding like she had kidnapped him. "Anyway, I've brought him. I don't know why you wanted him though."
"He's my brother. The only family I have left..." Dumbledore smiled simply. Tom's intrigue was raised ever so slightly. He'd never mentioned a brother before. "It's time to put all of this unpleasantness between us to rest."
"It won't be over unless you're dead too." Aberforth grumbled, quite frankly, looking around at everyone with displeasure. "Who are all these people?"
"Ah, well that's Minerva McGonagall and Newt Scamander, over there. That big one is Rubeus Hagrid. I'm not so sure about that one sitting down—I think it's something like Tim—and that's Frankie Dickson. She was Francis and Elizabeth's second daughter." Bathilda explained. He searched around as if someone was hiding in the bushes, as if it were some kind of joke.
"They're a bunch of kids. I was promised an army." Abe stated, bluntly, making Tom and Minerva give him vicious glares.
"I am not a kid! I happen to work at the Ministry of Magic for your information." Minerva stated, proudly. The man gave a mad cackle.
"Ha! That fact just makes you a downright toddler. Do you know how many dumb kids fall right into the Ministry right after school? It's a fool's job over there." he laughed. "A breeding ground for pompous morons."
"Who are you to talk? I've seen you before. You run the Hog's Head inn! It's a sty for disreputable individuals."
"Why you—"
"Come now, everyone. I think it's about time we get going before this starts taking the classic turn for the worst." Dumbledore smiled, clapping his hands to grab everyone's attention. "We'll be Apparating into a forest along the border where Grindelwald has rumored to be camping for the next few nights. Aberforth, Bathilda, and Minerva, you will all be taking Hagrid with you. Unfortunately, he was unable to take his tests. So, we must do all we can to make sure he isn't hurt."
Frankie reluctantly got up from her seat and took one last look around, kind of wishing she got to stay and explore a little more. She secretly wondered who was living in their rooms now. She caught Tom gazing up in the general directions of their rooms. Surely he was thinking the exact same things. What was life like now that the cursed freaks were gone? Had things gotten any better, or had they ruined this place forever? Salted this wretched earth, so that no happiness could ever possibly sprout. Was George alright? Dumbledore held out his arms as if he was sitting in an armchair, while Aberforth, Bathilda and Minerva grabbed on to portions of Hagrid. Newt was the first one to crack as he was pulled through an invisible tube and vanished into thin air. Hagrid grabbed the old pink umbrella that had been lying against the back wall of the orphanage and went next, along with all his guides. Tom grabbed one of Dumbledore's arms, while Frankie grabbed the other, and with another crack, the familiar scene vanished. Everything went blurred.