𝕬 𝕯𝖆𝖗𝖐 𝕷𝖔𝖗𝖉 𝖎𝖘 𝕭𝖔𝖗𝖓 | 𝑇𝑜𝑚 𝑅𝑖𝑑𝑑𝑙𝑒 |

Chapter 51- The Deadline

Christmas was the last hurrah for Dumbledore's army. The group spent what little of the day they had left ignoring Grindelwald's proposition and pretending all was well. It wasn't like the day before though. There was a rather fake air to this warmhearted gathering. Supper ran into more awkward silences. Abe didn't even bother to show up. Despite Tom's best efforts to put her back in bed, Frankie had escaped to the wonders of Mr. Scamander's magical menagerie of a suitcase. She had at least three different creatures hanging off various ligaments and a big bucket full of what looked like salmon eggs when he finally managed to track her down. It took every bit of Tom's persuasive power in order to get her back upstairs. She wasn't too angry with him, despite his overbearing worry. They didn't talk much after she crawled into bed. Ms. Bagshot had her take some Sleeping Draught and, while her back was turned, Frankie let him drink half of it. She dosed off soon enough and he quickly followed, leaning at her bedside. The night was too quiet.

Six days passed. Frankie recovered and Tom's temper slightly calmed when she returned to training. She suggested they spend more of their free time together, away from the group, in order to try and quell his worries. It worked well enough. Frankie also insisted Tom do most of the talking. To just continue speaking no matter what. Something he was not at all practiced in or comfortable with. However, after six years of holding up the conversation on their Sunday walks, he agreed. It wasn't so bad. He found it easier to talk knowing they were in the middle of a forest and no one else was around to hear them. They made sure to protect themselves in the many advanced protective spells they'd learned in their training, however, sometimes they would "forget" and make up the most audacious lies about themselves specifically for Grindelwald's spies. Tom apparently had an extra toe that made him run faster than the wind and Frankie could spit fire like a dragon after being consumed by Grigor's Fiendfyre spell.

It was suddenly the dawn of the big duel. The days seem to move by faster once Christmas was over. Even though Dumbledore was supposed to be fighting alone, everyone was gearing up for the battle. In the back of their minds, they knew there would be fighting no matter who wins or dies. Everyone was continuing the silent streak as they ate breakfast that morning. No one quite knew what to say. Not even Dumbledore. The first one who dared to say a word that silent morning was Frankie after they departed from camp. She and Tom were walking side-by-side, when suddenly he could see a little light bulb turn on in her head. Today was not only the day of some great legendary battle. It was a special day.

"Oh, Tom. I nearly forgot. Hap—"

"Please don't say it!" Tom snapped at her, before she could finish. It was rather unfortunate the day just had to be six days from Christmas. As in, the day he turned eighteen. It was near impossible for this day to take a happy turn for the better.

"Why not?" Frankie protested, looking a bit confused as to why she couldn't wish him a happy birthday. She did it every year, knowing he wouldn't like her giving him anything and she couldn't afford to get him anything anyway. She even sent him a brief note with Twilit last year when they had been fighting, knowing the owl would twitter happily in her place and keep him company. It was all she could do to show him that someone cared about him living for one more year. It was a dreaded holiday at the orphanage and at school everyone was away on vacation. She was the only one who thought about this day as something more.

"I'm not going to celebrate that kind of thing out here." he stated, coldly. They were walking towards their death, naturally the celebration of his continued life had to wait until they made it out of battle alive. She turned away from his gaze and stared down at the ground, somberly regretting mentioning it. Tom sighed and gave up instantly at her muted expression, "You can say it when we return to school. Once the bloodshed is through, I promise we can make it a big spectacle this year."