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Nicodemus Zabini Abraxas Crabbe Aldous Crouch Ursula Black
My Dearest Sophia,
I hope this letter finds you well, though I fear it carries more questions than reassurances. It has been months since I last heard from you, and I have been beside myself with worry. Imagine my surprise—and bewilderment—when I heard whispers that you have recently married a man called Lissington, a Hogwarts professor. I cannot simply ignore the longing for clarity and understanding. Firstly, let me say that I have missed you terribly. Our time together, brief as it was, left an indelible mark. Your absence has been keenly felt.
The news of your marriage came as a shock. I had no inkling that you were even considering such a step, especially not with someone like Lissington. I am not writing to judge or to question your choices, but rather to understand. What has happened, Sophia? Why did you vanish without a word?
If there were circumstances that forced your hand, know that you can confide in me. I offer no judgment, only a listening ear and a loyal heart. If this marriage is something you entered into willingly and with joy, then I am happy for you—truly. But if there is more to the story, if there is something you need help with, please tell me. You are not alone.
Please, if you can, write back and let me know how you are. Whether you need a friend, a confidante, or merely someone to share your thoughts with, I am here.
With all my love and concern,
Rose
You can learn to do it
Something in you knows it
There's nothing to it
Hermia could not have asked for a better turnout for the first meeting of the French Club. She was thankful for overestimating what she arranged with the house elves for hors d'oeuvre as well. She forgot how hungry students were on a night of near-endless sweets. In hindsight, she might regret that on her prefect shift later tonight. She'd promised to meet Clementine back in their dorm briefly, but Hermia had another objective tonight.She recognized the girl's name at Sorting. Their families were not close, but as the daughter of a French diplomat stationed in Tunisia for the better part of Hermia's life, she knew of the Algerian DeCroix family. Hermia didn't know they relocated to England, which would have horrified mama. Still, Hermia was hearing the younger girl was having difficulty with some of her peers and that classes may prove difficult. Hermia herself had dreamed of Beaxbatons and knew what it was to be the French girl in a British school. "Pardon, Mademoiselle DeCroix, a moment." Hermia smiled at the younger girl, hoping not to overwhelm her more than necessary. "My name is Hermia Bonaccord. I recognized your name at Sorting, and I wanted to check on you. I remember how wild the first few months are."
![[Image: XyOZaP4.png]](https://i.imgur.com/XyOZaP4.png)
29 Year Old Professor | UCPB | Durmstrang Institute | Rep: 8
For Hauke I am seeking:
- Potential hurling! Hauke's situation is a little bit complicated, in that he was born a woman and has been presented and raised as a man mostly to secure his family's inheritance. He does consider himself a man... sort of. In the end he considers himself neither, and is simply content to be seen as a man, but regardless of his outlook there is the terrible complication of the fact that any courtship would run into trouble where consummation is concerned. So, if you're interested in a fairly complicated situation? Let me know!
- I would love to build out Hauke's life as a Professor at Hogwarts, so any students in need of a fairly laid-back teacher figure? Hit me up.
- Fellow magical theory/spellcraft nerds?
Hellooo!
Hauke here is going to be Professor of Magical Theory at Hogwarts-- a class taught only to the first years, which I imagine means he has significantly fewer actual class periods than the Professors teaching across multiple years of students? I wondered how that would work? Is he sort of only a part-time professor? Would he be taking on a second class? Would he be doing... something else during his free time?
Does the end of summer have you wanting to whine? Well join me with some cheese to go with that wine and dish it out on your least favorite book with our Roast and Toast virtual book club.
When: Thursday, August 15, 7:30 CT
Where: GoogleMeets (if Bee can help me out there)
What: Come prepared to roast your most hated book and to toast your most favorite book. The beauty of this? You don't have to actually read anything but can still keep up with the conversation. Plus you get to whine about something "productive" instead of just the end of summer.
This event will be counted as a Charming Social for Camp Charming 2024.
Disclaimer: This is meant to spark lively and respectful conversations. Please respect other members opinions of books and come with an open mind. (For instance, my most hated book is a book most people love.)
Quietly she slipped into the back door through the garden, thankful they had a gate between the houses and she didn’t have to go too far. She knew hiding away wasn’t the best way to handle the situation, but she didn’t know what else to do. Going back to the zoo and her apprenticeship had been on her mind for a little while now, and she thought she needed to talk it through with someone, but thought Lester might be the best choice. She’d have to try and catch him after a shift as soon as she could.
She crossed into their sitting room, finding Alvin looking over some paperwork, brows furrowed and frowning. Unsure as to how best to proceed, she went to go upstairs, but his voice cut through her, stopping her in her tracks.
Margaret Wallace managed to coat a crowd of onlookers in stinksap and also start a small accidental fire at the zoo and it's high time that someone in authority has a chat with her as it's not the first time this has happened in hogsmeade.
Hoping to not have her locked away or severely punished as its childish things+involuntary magic that she is going to hogwarts to help control. But it would be fun to have an adult sit down for a word with her and give her a bit of a reality check. Looking for a hogsmeade officer or maybe someone involved in magical discipline as she is already known to the ministry in her bio.
The Dog Days of SummerPrepare an essay on the origin of the term "The Dog Days of Summer."
Identify the origin of the phrase, its meaning in ancient and modern times, the star and constellation referenced, and its application to muggles and wizardkind. For the practical portion, you will complete a labeled drawing of the constellation you discovered in your essay. Both are due the first meeting of the next term. Late work will not be accepted.
OOC Requirements: Write an IC essay of 150+ words on the provided topic. You can find all you need in this article. Your 'practical' portion can be either a thread or read-only post of your student observing the night sky or working on their assignment. Essays and a read-only post are worth 5 points; threads with 5+ posts are worth 5 points. Students who complete both (essay and thread/post) by September 30 will earn an additional 5 points.
Daddy's little girl
And daddy made a soldier out of me
The rage was still hot, the sound of blood in her ears, Anne's constant companion. That, and the crushing grief. Anne was familiar with grief, with pain and loss, but that was supposed to over. This was her time, her platform, and it was stolen. There was no other word for it; Anne was robbed of what was rightly hers: her place as prefect. Her whole summer felt like a cosmic 'no,' a word Anne did not handle well. Her parents refused to let her go abroad; Ned was so busy being an auror trainee that he never had time for her now, and her friends...Anne couldn't think of her friends now. She'd locked herself in her room after the owl came without her badge, the slight a personal one that Anne would never forgive. She'd spent days sobbing, refusing to eat, and threatening to hex anyone who dared enter her room. Somewhere around day three, teenage hunger had forced her to reconsider a hunger strike, but food only fed her seething anger. Her skin didn't fit her anymore; there wasn't enough room for her and her feelings, but without an outlet, the destruction turned inward. It was in the livid spiral that Anne's need for destruction turned resourceful. There was a way to harness this energy, to feel powerful, even without her wand. Anne sent her owl without a second thought, her complicated relationship with the recipient now insignificant in the face of the ticking timebomb in her chest called a heart. She could deal with the consequences later, but now, she needed her dad.
Waiting until the house fell asleep, Anne took the familiar path out her window to the street, the thrill of sneaking out dampened by her purpose. Tonight, no one would be stopping Anne. She waited just outside of the light of the gas lamps in the mouth of the alley, leaning against the bricks, trying to keep from imploding. When she finally heard footsteps, Anne pushed off the wall, ready for a fight. Confirming it was her father didn't relax her much. "I need your help. And you can't tell mum."
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