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First names were most often used by childhood or school friends. If the friendship was made after school age, first names would only really be used by women. Men were far more likely to refer to their friends by their surnames, a mark of familiarity. — Documentation


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Emilia Wright for Jude Wright. Casually alienating offspring since 18882.
Separating was also not a great idea, though they weren't doing great at staying together anyway. If she were to volunteer to be the human sacrifice.. well... Hogsmeade had plenty of debutantes anyway...

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Complete threads set in ten different forum locations. Threads must have at least ten posts, and three must be your own. Character accounts cannot be combined.

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The Family In The Fog
#1
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9 June, 1888 — Townsend House, Slums

Perhaps it was rather insensitive of him to find this whole thing profoundly funny, but he did. At least so long as he wasn't being asked to go cover it, Frederick could watch his paper for updates about the spread of the fog in Irvingly without any sense of actual concern. The only people he knew who lived in Irvingly were Cassandra and Miriam Trelawney, and after Miriam's sour-faced visit last week, he was hardly feeling inclined to worry for their sake. Besides, it wasn't as though there was any indication that this fog was actually causing harm. Not being able to use magic inside their home was, at best, a minor inconvenience — but one that amused him greatly to picture.

"I suppose," he commented to Sarah as he set the paper down and reached for one of the apples on the table, which looked to be on the verge of going off but was still close enough to food for his tastes at the moment. "That this means your sisters won't be dropping by any time soon with ominous prophetic visions."

Was the Sight affected by the inability to use magic? He hoped so. He'd always thought Cassandra's visions were just a little too attention-seeking for his tastes, and that she might secretly be enjoying the cultivation of her very-mysterious, highly-tormented air, but he hadn't ever said as much to Sarah (and certainly not to any of her siblings).
#2
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Today's news about Irvingly had put Sarah off eating entirely, and her tea was well on its way to going cold as she peered across at the paper.

"I should hope a sinister fog is plenty, and that Cassie won't have any more bad omens to see," Sarah protested, unconsciously picking at the skin around her fingernails in a nervous habit from childhood that still surfaced occasionally. The news was worrying to her, though Fred did not seem concerned; perhaps she should try harder to imitate him. Her sisters were adults themselves, and fully capable with or without magic - and magic was not something that could be permanently stripped from people, was it? And just because Sarah mightn't get to see them as much as she usually did - well, that was a silly reason to fall to pieces over.

"But you don't think it will last long, do you?" Sarah lifted her gaze to Frederick, not sure whether she was searching for reassurance or his honest opinion. "Surely it'll disperse in a day or two," she said with forced optimism, though she had no evidence of this from the article: it was not an ordinary fog, and if anything it was getting bigger.



#3
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Frederick made a dismissive tsk noise as he glanced over at his wife. "If there was any indication that it was sinister, Sarah, we would've splashed it all over the headlines," he pointed out. That sort of thing tended to sell well, in the newspaper business. The Ministry might have a vested interest in keeping the population from panicking over this, but the Prophet's interests lay in precisely the opposite direction. A bit of civil unrest would just mean more headlines, in the end. Riots, fires, plagues; they were all good for selling papers.

"It's inconvenient, at best," he argued. And both of her sisters were grown women, who could, at least in theory, take care of themselves. Not that being an adult was always the surest indicator of being able to take care of oneself. "But I don't imagine it will go on indefinitely. The Ministry will get off their bums and intervene someday." From his understanding of it, what they'd done so far could be summed up into: nothing.
#4
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Well, she had wanted reassurance, and she considered that Frederick's answer was - well, close enough to that. It didn't quite assuage her doubts: personally, she thought the fog having the inexplicable power to inhibit magic definitely seemed further along the spectrum to sinister than just inconvenient... But she had always been a worrier, so it was her own fault for seeing it that way. Frederick likely did know better than her. "You're probably right," she said, forcing out a wide smile to convince herself that he'd convinced her, or at least so as not to deserve another tsk from him.

He agreed that it wouldn't last forever, at any rate, which was good. The fog ought not to stop owls flying to and fro, besides, so she could check up on Cassie and Meer until it did. (Even in the moment of making that resolution, Sarah was not unaware that both of her sisters were sane enough to probably find that bothersome. Still. The thought made her feel a little better, regardless.)

Even with the Ministry involved, Sarah supposed she would hear very little of their progress in the matter from her marginal place in the Atrium. "Do you think they'll have you writing about it at all? Or send you over there?" She asked, a little more mildly, of the Prophet. It was arguably more than ordinary weather, so may not be his domain - and Frederick did usually spend most of his time in the news offices - but the fog had seemed the major topic on people's lips even yesterday, before they'd made any announcement about magic being affected, so who knew.



#5
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Frederick gave a casual shrug at the question. The Prophet didn't pay him enough to send him somewhere he couldn't return from (unless they were going to be issuing advances for room and board while he was out, which was a luxury generally saved for the reporters who actually cared about the quality of their writing, which, most days, he didn't), so there was little chance of him being dispatched to Irvingly, he thought. And if he was, it would only be for an afternoon, and he'd be apparating back to Hogsmeade in time to get his evening copy in to the press.

"I'll go wherever they send me," he said indifferently. "It'll depend on what else is happening. If it just stays the way it is — fog in Irvingly and nothing else — that won't really be news," he pointed out. Of course, that might not stop them from reporting on it, if there wasn't anything better to write about. He'd certainly spun stories out of less source material, before.

"They'll probably have one of the Ministry shills write the story for when it finally clears up," he added. "Since they'll want a nice puff-piece." Freddie didn't write those kinds of stories. Not that his own writing had much more in the way of substance, they just generally weren't as kind to their subjects.
#6
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Frederick’s career hadn’t changed terribly in all the years she had known him. He didn’t seem to mind this, of course, seemed happy enough where he was - so neither did Sarah. (A pay rise might have come in useful if their family had ever expanded, but since it hadn’t -)

“Well, I hope they don’t send you anywhere near it,” Sarah said, with a sigh, reaching out to touch him lightly on the wrist and supposing she could be worried enough for the both of them, as usual. “And I do hope it clears up soon,” she added, pushing off from her chair to check on the eggs and potter about at the range, too antsy to sit still and stare into her tea-mug for any longer (Cassie had Seen the fog coming, of course she had; Sarah ought to have prepared somehow, put them up in Hogsmeade for the time being or something). “We were supposed to go to Irvingly to celebrate little Theo’s birthday with them.”


#7
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The touch on his wrist was unexpectedly tender, given how generally dismissive he was being of her concerns, and for a moment he regretted having been so blaze. Then she was up again, and bustling about the kitchen, and it was easy (and more comfortable) to fall back into the habit of bland domesticity and ignore the little sign of affection.

"Don't worry," he said wryly, examining his apple and choosing the best place to take his next large bite. "I heard he'll be having another next year." Who even remembered birthdays when they were this young, anyway?
#8
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He might have been hideously easygoing about the fog, she realised that, she accepted that - and perhaps he was right to be, after all, since Sarah had little enough idea what either one of them could possibly do dispel it - but she appreciated his tone far less when he was unconcerned about family.

"That's not the point, Freddie," Sarah said, huffing before she could help herself, and glad she had turned away from him so that he might not notice that she was so easily vexed about this. He was right again, and perhaps the party had been more for Cassie and Meer and the rest of them all anyway, but would it be so hard for anyone to at least let something be an occasion? Children grew up so fast, she could already sense it of her nephew, and perhaps she was paying a little too much attention, but...  

She couldn't look forward to that anymore, she wouldn't be able to visit two of her sisters... she was not sure the prospect of this should be as crushing as it felt, but sometimes her sisters felt like her only real friends, and if she did not have them then all she had was work, and she could not spend all her time there, not when she had a home and a husband to look after. She shut her eyes for a moment, tried to settle the unease in her bones and the tension in her mouth, find a bright side somewhere. There had to be something. Something else to think about. Something better.





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