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Fern-hunting parties became popular, allowing young women to get outside in a seemingly innocuous pursuit with less rigid oversight and chaperoning than they saw in parlors and drawing rooms. They may have even had the occasional romantic meetup with a similarly fern-impassioned beau. — Bree

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"The Prodigal Sister" for Ophelia Devine. Faked deaths, scandal, and schemes!
Now that he had walked up to them, he couldn't exactly whirl around and get going. That would be rude. And was not, presumably, how straight men seduced their future wives.

Cassius Lestrange in Eyes on the Screen

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The Dozen

Complete a twelve-post thread in which each post has exactly twelve words. At least three posts must be your own.


Pints Ahoy!
June 03rd, 1888 — The Leaky Cauldron
The only thing Edric hated more than getting injured on the job was being teased about getting injured on the job, which was exactly what a number of his coworkers had decided to do on their way to the Leaky Cauldron. Suffice to say, he'd found himself on the edge of the bar — seated away from everyone except Connolly — when they arrived, his bandaged arm propped up on the counter in front of him.

He'd ordered a pint of whiskey before turning to the fiery redhead beside him, who had already received her drink.

"A bunch of fools they are," he grouched, nodding towards the rowdy group of boys (his coworkers were definitely acting like them at the moment) who were beginning to shout as they received their drinks.

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“Only fool I see here is you,” she returned gaily, a glint of mischief in her eyes. “A full pint of whiskey—are you looking to kill yourself? If so, you’re off to a fabulous start with that hand of yours.”

Of all the members in their party, Maeve Connolly had the lowest injury rate. Some teased and said it was because any harmful jinxes simply sailed right over her head, but they quickly learned that her smaller stature meant a lower punch when such comments were made within her earshot. The redhead could give much better than she got.

“But then, you are right, Umbridge; they’re not much better—clearly too young to be away from their ma, if that’s how they’re to act!”

Their actual ages were altogether irrelevant.

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   Edric Umbridge

Edric scoffed. "I'm sure the amount you drink is a frequent concern for you, Connolly," he retorted, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "I'm both larger and older than you—I know my limits." he added, fully expecting her to begin bad-mouthing him any moment.

And the hand—well, there was definitely something he could offer in retaliation, but decided such a comment might prompt her to send a spell his way right in the middle of the pub.

"How they're to act, Connolly? I don't suppose you've ever done something reckless, or even stupid? Nothing to get you reprimanded? Nothing to get you suspended?" #BanterTime was upon them.

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