Did you know?
The Language of the Flowers was a popular method to express feelings where words might be improper, but did you know other means of doing so? Some ladies used their parasols, as well as their fans, gloves, and hankies to flirt with a gentleman (or alternatively, tell them to shove it!). — Bree ( Submit your own)
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Questionable Friend/Crush for Philip Aymslowe.
When your mum thinks you're gay for your best friend (but you probably are)
This boy, then. He wasn't new. Wasn't one of the worst people in the common room, those rotten rich boys - like Mr. Jailkeeper - who could not fathom a world beyond their own farts. Was a good working class lad, so he'd heard. Had a bit of a weird looking face, and a bit of a weird thing for preaching. Still.Aubrey Davis in The Under-Sofa
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Post 3+ times in three or more class threads during the course of a school year. Must all be done with the same character, be they a professor, student, or school portrait or ghost!

Pull Myself Together
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July 3rd, near midnight
Abandoned garden in Bartonburg

The restlessness had finally won out and Febs couldn’t handle it anymore. She felt completely ridiculous, but the feeling of utter unease sitting in her stomach wouldn’t ebb no matter what she tried. There was no distinct reason for her to be worried, right? Irvingly was pretty much just like Hogsmeade, covered in fog, magicless (though that was nothing new over there!) but the with the source of this fog being so entirely unknown, it just gave February a feeling of sheer trepidation.

Tossing and turning in bed was no longer an option and she’d thought about just going downstairs to find something else to do, but couldn’t fathom anyone would appreciate her pacing through the living room and Febs didn’t have an explanation for her inability to settle. Well, not one she could tell anyone about anyway. She thought to pen a letter to Tuni, but it was near midnight and she doubted her friend would be up anyway.  She'd written enough of her thoughts down at several points today for it to be of much help, even if Tuni wrote back. Maybe in the morning.

It was an impulsive decision, but those seemed to rule her life lately and so she went into her wardrobe and pulled out an old pair of August’s pants that she’d stolen a while ago when they were due to be tossed. She’d patched them up as best she could and had used them a few times in the past to go flying and the like, but tonight she rather felt that climbing down the tree outside her window would be much easier without volumes of skirts getting in the way.

Climbing down the tree was much easier this time so at least she’d been right about that decision. Febby had even go so far as to tuck her hair up in and old cap of her father’s too, just for good measure. Nobody was likely bother some guy that was skulking around the streets of Bartonburg at this hour, or so she was hoping. Oh, she could hear Edric now, telling her how brash and stupid this was, but she couldn’t sit idly anymore. Plus he wasn’t here to holler at her anyway and that was exactly the problem. Febs had tried to stroll as quickly and as casually as she could through the twists and turns that took her to garden, but it was hard to really exude calmness when you were anything but.

The garden itself was as quiet and as calm as she remembered, just stepping inside and taking a deep breath brought her a better sense of peace. Foolishness warred with apprehension as she moved through the dark to the tree where everything had come to a huge turning point in her life just a few short days ago. Febby settled herself at the base of the tree, sitting against the trunk. Leaning back, she pulled off the cap hiding her hair letting the loose waves fall free. She then pulled out her locket from beneath her shirt and turned it over idly in her fingers, tracing the edges absentmindedly as she tried to figure out what was wrong with her. The feeling of irrational unease had faded a little, but she still felt absurd for feeling that way in the first place. It was all so insane; February had always prided herself on being realistic about situations but this time it was different. It had been a month since they’d met, right down to the day and her whole world had been flipped upside down and back in a mere matter of a few short weeks. If she stopped to really think about it, and honestly she hadn’t much else to do today, Febs realized the whole thing was incredibly laughable. If this were one of her friends she would have thought they’d absolutely lost their minds, but here she was anyway.

All she needed was a few minutes alone to get her shit together. It wasn’t like she was going to get much sleep anyway. Once she managed to collect herself, she’d go home. Finding some semblance of  rationality would do her a world of good. Hopefully this expedition would be over quickly and then the fog would dissipate. Then it would only be a few months until everything had settled enough for things to move forward, right? All she could do right now was hope everything would turn out alright. Everything was beyond her control and perhaps that was the most frustrating part.

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