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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...

Barnabas Skeeter in CYOA: Group D

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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.


A Thousand Miles
August 1st, 1888, Umbridge Residence
Edric Umbridge
If I could fall into the sky
Do you think time would pass me by?
'Cause you know I'd walk a thousand miles
If I could just see you tonight

A Thousand Miles - Vanessa Carelton

The letter had come shortly after dinner, waiting for her on her desk when she'd gone back up to her room to start pouring over her books again. Between research for Tuni and getting back into her animagus studies, she'd at least been white to occupy herself better in the last week, even if she still wasn't sleeping well. Once she'd recognized the familiar handwriting, see all but pounced on the desk. Tears of relief trickled down her cheeks as she read, flooding her system, before she hastily scrawled out a reply and formulated her escape plan.

She cast a look out her window, and was pleasantly surprised to see the tree in the back garden. It was certainly a sight for sore eyes. With the fog dissipated, magic was back up. Unfortunately she still lacked a wand.

Waiting for everybody to be asleep enough, feigning sleep herself when she was so anxious, was incredibly difficult. She managed to wait an extra few minutes after she heard the last noise before padding downstairs in her nightgown to the fireplace in the kitchen, looking over her shoulder the entire way.

Stepping into the fireplace with a shaking handful of floo powder, Febby quietly announced her destination in the strongest voice she could muster. She would have apparated, but in never having been to his house, Febby thought floo a much better option. At this point between the anticipating and the anxiety she rather thought apparating was a bad idea anyway. Plus he'd said to floo.

With no idea what to expect on the other side, Febby spilled out of the fireplace unsteadily, tumbling forward, momentarily disoriented. The unfamiliar room, the mild panic that she'd gotten the wrong address, everything faded as soon as her eyes landed on him, half asleep sitting there on the sofa. Her breath caught in her throat as she took the briefest of moments to look him up and down, to make sure he wasn’t terribly injured before she launched herself at him, landing right in his lap as she wrapped her arms tightly around his neck. She’d gotten enough of a look at him to know he was alright, but she also didn’t really want him to see just how much of a shadow of herself she’d become over the last month in his absence. It was embarrassing, the dark circles under her eyes, the pale tone to her usually vibrant complexion, she looked ridiculous.

Nevertheless, she felt a month’s worth of anxiety and worry melt away by simply feeling the warmth of him against her. Sighing, she could feel tears prickle at the corners of her eyes and she willed them away. This was insane, she would not cry again. Febs nuzzled into his neck, breathing him in and trying to calm herself down again. Squeezing tighter she murmured, ”Please don’t ever do that to me again.”

[-] The following 1 user Likes February Umbridge's post:
   Edric Umbridge

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He'd been fine, or however fine one could be after missing a month of sleep. Even though he really hadn't—not from his perspective, at least—leaving the casino time-warp had made his body lag with every step and his voice falter with every word. Perhaps it was the relief, or maybe it was the exhaustion that collapsed on him after an entire day of having to remain on his toes, but he'd just crashed. And that was after he'd handled all the reports; fortunately he'd not been left to handle matters related to the fog's culprit, as the on-duty law enforcement officials had been able to see how foggy his brain (pun intended) had become. A civilian report was filed and then he went home.

His first half an hour had been spent in the tub getting cleaned up, and then about halfway through that he realized, oh shit, he probably needed to contact friends, family, etc. (or in his mind, Febs). He lazily scribbled down a letter, only setting his quill down when he realized he'd descending into rambling.

He'd sent it off with an owl and then promptly fell asleep on the couch.

Until, of course, the sound of his fireplace stirred him from his sleep, though for a moment only his eyelids flickered as he tried, in the midst of his sleep-induced confusion, to figure out what the noise was. It didn't take much effort on his part; a moment later, he was holding a sniffling Febs in his arms. He wasn't sure what he'd expected to feel. Maybe he expected more passion, more excitement, more heat when she first arrived, but for a moment he did nothing more than wrap his arms around her smaller frame and stroke her back.

He turned his head to an angle where he could lazily trail light kisses against whatever skin he could find—in this case, her neck and the end of her jawline—in an attempt to soothe her.

"I'm sorry, lover," he said groggily. "I didn't know it had been that long. I would have written you if I knew." (Not that he'd really had much time to write, but she didn't need to know that much.)

[-] The following 1 user Likes Edric Umbridge's post:
   February Umbridge

this is such a bee-autiful set!
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Febs felt her whole body relax in a way she hadn't in nearly a month. The fatigue she heard in his voice was mirrored in her posture, though she finally loosened her grip, just a little.

Of course it was hard to fully relax with his lips on her neck like that. Tired wasn't the only thing she been feeling for the last month. Shifting her position gently, and without a second thought, Febs hiked up her nightgown and moved to better settle herself with one leg on either side of him, rather than the haphazard mess of limbs she'd landed in originally. Her hands  landed on his cheeks as she eyed him, one eyebrow raised, forgetting she'd been trying to hide how tired she was. Hopefully the dim light in the room would hide everything.

"What do you mean you didn't know, what happened?" Her voice was quiet, exhaustion creeping in, just a fraction of desperation mixed in. She believed him; she knew he would have written if he could have, she hadn't once doubted that in the last month, but still, she couldn't help but to be curious. While she waited, she looked him over more carefully to make sure he was indeed fine.

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Edric's hands fell to her hips as she readjusted her position and his eyes met hers as she pulled back to look at him. She looked frail—frailer than him even. Her hair was darker or her skin was paler (and by the laws of common sense, it was probably the latter); there were dark circles under her eyes; and there was a glossy look to her eyes that suggested that she'd been crying. He gently rubbed his hands up and down her arms, hiking up the sleeves of her nightdress as far as they would go. Merlin, even in her distressed state, she was a sure sight for sore eyes.

"When the Ministry found us, I thought it was still July 3rd. July 4th at the latest," he insisted, letting his arms drop around her waist once more. "I was tired, sure, but not 'I haven't slept for a month'-tired," he breathed, his words followed by a sleepy chuckle. His gaze flickered down to her lips and then back to her eyes, a subtle request for permission, before he pulled her closer to kiss her for the first time in what felt like forever.

He kissed her softly, sweetly; it wasn't like the last kisses they'd shared before he'd departed. It wasn't a kiss of desperation, nor did anything about it suggest it was about to turn to desperation. He merely held her against him, taking in her scent, the feeling of her lips, her presence—a good reminder that he was safe at home.

this is such a bee-autiful set!
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Febs was baffled and a little irked with his non-answer, but she supposed she'd hear about it eventually. She was too tired, too relieved, to fight him on it now. There was no energy left in her to even think about it. She could easily sympathize with not having slept in a month- she'd actually gone a real month's time without a decent night's sleep. Without the story, she didn't exactly know what he'd gone through, but it would suffice to say they were both exhausted for one reason or another.

It was her turn to chuckle as she watched his eyes glance downward and back to hers before he leaned in to kiss her. It was like a soft sigh, an exhale that let go of all of the unease from the last month. Febs leaned into the kiss easily, hands sliding back a little, though she didn't let herself indulge in his hair just yet. Every ounce of her just wanted to be close to him, but the tenderness of the kiss wasn't lost on her and she didn't want to rush anything, not tonight.

"I missed you." She mumbled against his lips, leaning back ever-so-slightly, pressing her forehead to his.

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There wasn't anything good for him to say; he hadn't asked her to come to his home to talk, but neither could be find the energy at the moment to do more than hold her in his arms. Seeing as he'd slept the entire afternoon, perhaps he was suffering from too much sleep—and too much sleep on the wrong schedule—rather than too little.

"I missed you, too—but I'm sure you knew that," he murmured back, nudging his nose against hers. He glanced down at her dress and, upon noting it was a nightdress, let out a chuckle. "Well you came back to me with no corset this time. You listened," he teased, his fingers kneading into her silk-clad hips. With him feeling exhausted and her, well, looking it, he wasn't sure what she expected from him tonight—if anything at all.

"I also brought your pendant back. I would have gotten you a trinket from the expedition, but I wasn't sure what was cursed and what wasn't, so I just brought you back, well, me."

this is such a bee-autiful set!
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Febby let her lashes flutter closed, very content to simply absorb as much of him as she could. She hummed in approval, feeling a month's worth of exhaustion make itself known. She would be perfectly happy to curl up in bed with him right about now and just sleep. The way he kept touching her though was making it hard to commit to that completely, but she had absolutely no expectations for tonight. All she wanted to do was spend as much time with him as she could before she had to sneak back home.

"Well, I had to pretend to go to bed, which I don't do in a corset." She chuckled quietly, giving into the temptation of combing her her fingers through his hair gently. "So, you're welcome." It would be a lie to say she hadn't put on her nicest nightgown though. Expectations or not, she was open to anything and the warmth of his hands through the thin layer of silk were giving her plenty of ideas. The real question was whether or not either one of them had the energy.

In all honesty, February had all but forgotten about her pendant, the amethyst necklace only gracing her thoughts here and there, Edric's locket having easily taken it's place. It still sat under the neckline of her nightgown now having withstood a month's worth of constant worry and abuse. "Fortunately you were all I wanted." She laughed quietly as she leaned in to kiss him again.

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It seemed every expectation he had about what it meant to be with February Lynch was being challenged tonight. Before now, her fingers combing through her hair had been a way to evoke more passion from him; it had driven him crazy. Now, however, the feeling of her hands in his hair was comforting more than anything.

"That might have been suspicious," he murmured, gently tugging her skirt free from its place trapped between his and her legs. His hands began to wander, though it was a mindless gesture—a display of his comfort with her. Though despite his movements, there was an ounce of hesitation; it was hard to forget that they weren't in public and not in her family's kitchen, but rather in the comfort and safety of his home.

He chuckled against her lips, and, with the comfort of knowing not even the nosiest servants would have a word to say, rolled them to the side so she was lying with her back against the couch seat.

"One of our group members turned into a cat," he said, pushing himself out of his position so he could hover over her. "I considered giving him to you as a gift—and to him as a punishment—before realizing that would mean sending an adult man into your home, albeit in the form of your newest feline companion," he explained, visibly amused, before kissing her once more.

this is such a bee-autiful set!
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Just having him at her fingertips, a breath away was enough to forget about the last month altogether. It was far too easy to fall back into herself, or the version of herself she was now used to where he was concerned. She hadn't expected his next movements, a little, "Oh!" Of surprise followed by a fit of tired  laughter escaping as he laid her against the couch. That was dangerous for a two distinct reasons; she was either likely to pass out now that she was no longer upright, or things were going to take a drastic turn for the obvious. Both options were perfectly fine, but she would prefer a nice comfy bed in either case.

"You're kidding." A cat! Just what in the name of Merlin's beard had they run into over in Irvingly? She couldn't help but to laugh at that, though she had little time to think on it. The fatigue would certainly be overcome if he kept this up.

Stretching out her body against his, she arched toward him, body still craving the physical reassurance she'd been lacking for the last few weeks. She tried to keep the desperation to a minimum, reigning it in as best she could, but with so much pent up frustration she wasn't doing very well. "Take me to your bed, Love." She whispered breathlessly between kisses.

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Even through the obvious exhaustion and general feeling of being done with today, it was impossible to deny the spark between them. Though he knew he'd be regretting anything wild they did tonight the moment he tried to roll out of bed in the morning, she brought out the recent Hogwarts graduate within him that had been buried (probably far too early) the moment he'd decided to become a real adult and enroll in the auror training program.

She arched against him and he was quick to press his body flush against her, realizing that he could feel the shape of her legs and the softness of her stomach much better without the extra padding. It was delightful, and though he'd gotten under her skirts before, he'd never gotten them completely off. He could only imagine...

His hand had already begun to inch its way down her gown's skirt when she suggested they move to the bed, and he was more than happy to comply. He reluctantly wrenched himself away from her and off the couch before doing his best to scoop her up from her current position.

"If that's what you wish, Febby," he agreed, glancing across the room to the door to his bedchamber. Though he wasn't afraid of being caught by a nosy servant, he hoped to Merlin that they hadn't been seen; to any outside eyes, his relationship with February Lynch looked like that of a man and his mistress, and he didn't want the awkwardness of having to face them if he introduced her to his household as something more.

Thus, he did his best to get across the room swiftly and quietly, nearly coming to a halt as he entered the room and shut the door with his foot behind him. He room wasn't extravagant, but neither was it plain; it displayed his family's wealth without bordering frivolous, which he supposed separated him from the upper-echelons of society.

"Is the bed big enough for you?" he teased, motioning towards it with a nod of his head.

this is such a bee-autiful set!
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Grinning triumphantly Febby chuckled as he pulled her off the couch and whisked her away. As a girl who preferred to do for herself, she could easily get used to being carried around like this. There was something both endearing and a little enticing about it. She hadn't needed to do anything but ask and he'd obliged. The give and take of this was intuitive and just a little intoxicating.

Feeling a much needed second wind coming on, Febs wrapped her arms around his neck, oblivious to any haste he may have moved with, as she was watching him instead. Clearly he was fine after all. She heard the door click closed behind them before she took a moment to look around. The room was very him, she decided, what she could see anyway in the low light. There was a lot she'd give to have to a moment or two to really look around, but now was not the time.

Her eyes landed on the large bed and she grinned yet again. "It'll do." She hummed against his neck as she pressed her lips to his skin.

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He was glad she thought the bed would do well, because despite how his usual strength, he could feel the already-sore muscles in his arms straining from carrying her. From his memories of carrying her a few weeks ago (or maybe more than that given that his time perception was completely off), he knew she wasn't that heavy.

He positioned her in his arms to where she couldn't bury her face (and those wicked lips of hers, Merlin) in his neck any longer and flashed her a mischievous smile once he caught her gaze.

The next moment, without much ado, he tossed her onto the bed, a wide grin across his face.

"Whoops, you slipped."

[-] The following 1 user Likes Edric Umbridge's post:
   February Umbridge

this is such a bee-autiful set!
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Whining in protest as he made it hard for her to be a pain, Febby yelped in surprise before dissolving into a fit of giggles when he very unceremoniously tossed her into his bed. She bounced rather ungracefully into a heap of limbs and fabric. Throwing her head back, she laughed even harder at his statement, feeling much lighter and carefree than she had in far too long. She bit her lip, trying to stifle the laughter, hands pressed to her stomach as the tried  to recover.

Trying to manage a less haphazard position, she cast him a sly smirk, leaning up on her elbows as she straightened out, the skirt of her nightdress creeping dangerously high up on her thighs on its own as she moved her legs. "Well, are you going to join me or not?" She all but waggled her eyebrows at him, the invitation very clear.

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Edric chewed on his bottom lip while he watched her on the bed, his eyes managing to find every inch of exposed skin as she recovered from the sudden drop. He wasn't sure what he was expecting from her, but upon watching her position herself in way that could only be described as 'seductive', he realized he should have expected nothing else.

"I don't know," he said, shaking his head involuntarily while he struggled to keep a wide smile off his face. "I thought I might get you to disrobe yourself for me," he teased, his brows perched high on high on his forehead as he crossed his arms across his chest. "Unless, of course, my presence flusters you so much that you've forgotten how to handle it; then I'm sure I could offer my assistance."

Though he wasn't laughing, by that point he couldn't stop himself from grinning. Eyes on her, he waggled his eyebrows and moved his own hands to the buttons of his shirt and undid the first one.

That had him laughing. This entire situation was unprecedented; he'd never had a woman in his own bed, and he'd certainly never shared one with a woman who he was so willing to joke with. Brothels weren't like that.

this is such a bee-autiful set!
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Febs blew out a laugh, quirking a curious eyebrow at him. "Oh is that so?" She wasn't opposed, not really. Febby wasn't exactly modest, that much should have been clear by now, but two could very easily play this game. Having the room to themselves, the privacy, the time for once left a lot of possibilities. There was no need to rush or worry about anything or anyone else.

"I think that's terribly unfair, I have far fewer layers on than you do, for once." One, she had one layer, where was the fun in that? There was no chemise, no corset or cover, no petticoat or skirts, hell she didn't even wear knickers to bed. She hadn't even bothered with a housecoat this time, stepping into and out of fireplaces in their homes didn't exactly require outer wear.

Pushing herself up into a sitting position, Febs swung her legs off the edge of the bed and perched herself there, holding the hem of her nightgown purposefully at her knees lest it move on its own again. "Have we reached an impasse?" She smirked, raising another challenging eyebrow at him.

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He wasn't sure if he'd expected her to comply or not, but she hadn't expected him to go along with his antics and then turn everything on him. He watched, partly shocked and partly captivated, as she moved to the edge of the bed, started up at him suggestively—all the while talking to him in that tone—and held the hem of her dress as if she was going to lift it up at any moment. It seemed that any conscious thought wasn't necessary; his fingers immediately began fumbling with the buttons on his shirt. Anything to see her in the nude.

"I'm going, I'm going," he chuckled in an attempt to mask the nervousness he'd identified. When was the last time he'd ever done this without any clothes on? He'd hardly bothered to do more than unbutton his trousers the last time he went to a brothel, and before then it had to have been months, maybe a year.

"You want to...help me? Or must I remove everything by myself?"

this is such a bee-autiful set!
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