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

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Iola Hitchens for Elladora Black. The Blacks' black sheep.
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 at least once with the same character every day for a month.


Lessen the Lesson Learned | OWL Div
January 8th, 1888 - The North Tower
Usually students were more interested in palm reading, but the first ten minutes of today's lecture had been like pulling teeth. No one was participating, and every time Elliot turned around to add something to the diagram of the palm on the chalkboard, he heard whispering behind him. He was fairly confident that he had not done anything embarrassing lately, which left him at somewhat of a loss as to why his students were so amped. "People tend to be most concerned with the life line, which I'll label on the board now," Elliot said. He was suddenly bored by his own lecture. Maybe this had something to do with whatever had gone down during breakfast yesterday? Maybe it was nothing. He turned around and scrawled LIFE as he became aware that the students were talking behind him, again, a prickling sensation at the back of his neck as they whispered. Ugh. If Elliot didn't put a stop to this now, they might do it all spring.

"All right," Elliot said, stopping halfway through the word line. He turned back around. "What's going on, everyone?"

avs by Bee!
Monet was livid. And embarrassed. Two things she hated being. She prided herself on being pretty down to earth and easy going but the plastering of Jemima's journal all over the school had raised plenty of problems. One of which was the fact she needed to all but avoid all the pureblood boys of her own house until everything calmed down. Those thoughts, ideas of each boy, had been meant to be private and she certainly hadn't needed Eldin Bones to find out she had quite the crush on him. Or the fact that she found Kristoffer Lestrange handsome. Luckily, she'd managed to avoid them all for the time being but the snickering and chattering about the journal followed her everyone. Even if it wasn't directly about her, she knew it had all been seen.

Going to Divination had been meant to be her get away from it all. Oh, but how wrong she'd been. Mr. Carmichael had been a frequent mention in the journal, after all. With a roll of her eyes as whispers started up the moment he'd turned his back to write on the board, she couldn't help but let loose a sigh when her head of house turned around.

"Surprised you haven't heard yet," she piped up, voice laced with a snarky and almost angry tone, "Miss Farley's journal detailing how awful everyone is got out. But don't worry, she wrote about you in a good light. She's okay with you being odd seeing as how you're the handsomest of teachers here."

[Image: MonetSig.gif]
Aleksei had been mildly shocked by what had happened at breakfast yesterday though the Hufflepuff had been thankful that the only real comment in the diary about them was regarding that rumor that had gone around about Aleksei being part fairy. Miss Farley had seemed to be dismissive of it since obviously that was impossible so Aleksei had no beef with her. This had to be so mortifying for her especially given some of the things she had said about other people.

Each class thus far had been a buzz with gossip and people talking about it. The Hufflepuff was trying to concentrate on the lesson but that seemed an impossible task at the moment and it seemed the professor agreed as he turned to address them. Miss Brown spoke up and Aleksei couldn't believe how upfront she was being. She was right in saying that Mister Carmichael was one of the more handsome teachers, they supposed. Aleksei was more partial to Professor Sleptov - but that was probably partially because the other man was Russian.

Divination was one of those classes. There were lots of students he knew there: Clementine was his sister, obviously; Gillenwater from Gryffindor quidditch was there; he was familiar with Miss Lestrange through Jemima; and, of course, there was Jemima there as well. He was less familiar with a number of the other students, and today, when the atmosphere around the school - and especially so for him - was already tense, he was not prepared to talk about that.

His mouth dropped open into a little 'o' at Miss Brown's bluntness. She'd never been a very friendly girl, he recalled - a recollection not fueled by any negative experiences before now, but rather a lack of positive experiences with the girl. He cast a death glare in the direction of Miss Brown, his fists balled tightly atop the table.

"Shove off, Miss Brown, or ..." He trailed off, not too keen to finish the almost-threat towards the female student with a class full of students and a professor to contend with. "You're only mad because of how mad you are for half the male population at Hogwarts."

Was it mean? Yes. Was it out of line? Also yes. Would he regret it later, and possibly even apologize when the tension left his bones at the end of the day? Probably. But did it feel good in the moment? Merlin, yes.

Jemima had come to her classes today so she didn't get in trouble for not being here, but beyond that, she was as much not here as it was possible to be without wearing an invisibility cloak. Or being a ghost. (She would suffer that embarrassment, wouldn't she, if she were to die at this point - not even be able to do it properly, and have to float around for the rest of her days to hear everyone's eternal snickering).

It was rather hard to concentrate on palm reading in any respect amid all the whispering, even now, though she had been staring straight ahead, her eyes boring into the back of Professor Carmichael's head to try and prove that she was paying attention.

She sank in her seat a little as Professor Carmicahel turned around and addressed the class, ducking her gaze from him immediately to try and pretend she had no part of this. And to pretend she couldn't remember what, precisely, she had written about Divination.

But then Monet - Monet Brown, a girl she had considered her friend! - betrayed her in the swiftest second flat. Jemima let out an appalled gasp, her face heating as fast as if someone had cast Incendio, horrified not only that Monet had said something but that she had said it like that. She wasn't sure she was the only one shocked by Monet's move - and she was grateful for Justice's response - but she didn't dare even offer him a smile in gratitude for being her hero, lest that alone encourage the mob!

Instead, Jemima ducked her head under her table with badly-feigned obliviousness, as though she urgently had to retrieve a fallen quill at this very moment, until this storm blew over.

bee is wonderful
Of course it would be Justice Rookwood to come to Jemima's defense. He was her Prince Charming after all, wasn't he? At least, Monet was very well aware that her "friend" had signed her name as Mrs. Justice Rookwood at least once in her journal. But instead of working to actually quiet Monet, his remarks only seemed to cause the fire within to flare up.

Turning icy blue eyes to the boy, leveling a glare at him, she raised a brow as if daring him to proceed. "Or what, hm?" she asked, adding words to the dare from her look, "At least my tastes are focused on that of the respectable sort and not the ones with a past filled with scandal." It was growing more apparent just why she'd found herself in Slytherin. "Remind us again, please, what happened to your parents," she went on, all tact or forethought quickly thrown out the window, "And where was it that you spent your holidays?"
[-] The following 1 user Likes Monet Brown's post:
   Elias Grimstone

[Image: MonetSig.gif]
As if coming from a family of filthy blood traitors wasn’t bad enough Farley had publicly called her a rat, accused her of tripping her in the library last year (she had, but that was entirely besides the point and had served the little cheat right!) and worst of all called her Beastly, a moniker she had already heard whispered in giggling groups. She promptly charged at anyone she thought was even thinking it but Trixie just knew the insidious little bastards in the younger years were becoming less frightened of her by the day now that she had been so openly mocked.

The fact that Farley has been foul about Kristoffer Lestrange too was by-the-by and not something else that was inciting her ire.

She’d show Jemima Farley who was beastly. As soon as she got her alone Trixie was going to scratch her fucking eyes out.

“Oh she’s not that bothered about him,” Trixie drawled spitefully towards Rookwood, turning her attention to their instructor and making sure her voice carried. “She’s much more interested in Professor Carmichael from what I read.”
[-] The following 1 user Likes Beatrix Borgin's post:
   Elias Grimstone

[Image: peVXwN.png]
fabulously moody set by Bee <3
For a full twenty seconds after Miss Brown answered his question, Elliot's brain felt like white noise. If his students hadn't started being openly nasty, he might have stayed there at the front of the class, expression vaguely shocked, until the bell rang and they left. Instead - "Miss Borgin, that's quite enough!" Elliot said. He snapped his fingers twice, trying to recall the class' attention. "Miss Brown, discussing other students' families is not something I will tolerate, so ten points from Slytherin." Elliot was generally willing to deduct points from his own house, being more concerned with molding students into 'tolerable human beings' than 'house cup winners.'

"And your comments were also out of line, Mr. Rookwood, so that'll be ten from Ravenclaw, as well," Elliot rattled off, for fairness. Miss Borgin was over the top, but no more spiteful than she often was, and so Elliot was willing to choose his battles, at least at the moment.

"Anyone else?" Elliot asked. He had a strong sense that he was going to regret asking - and a stronger sense that they would not be getting back to palm-reading. It wasn't the Sight as much as it was intuition brought on by five and a half years of teaching.

[-] The following 3 users Like Elliot Carmichael's post:
   Beatrix Borgin, Elias Grimstone, Temerita Reid

avs by Bee!
Ever since the diary had gotten out, Clementine had been rather distant with Jemima. The fifth year had mixed feelings about the diary. Part of her wanted to defend Jemima. Ones private thoughts didn't deserve to be plastered about for the whole world to see. On the other hand, some of what had been said was cruel and ridiculous, and even Justice and her dormmates had been targeted. If that is what she really thought of them all, had their entire friendship been a complete lie?

Justice, of course, was her main concern. It was he whom she had sought to sit closer to than usual, just to keep an eye on him. When he opened his mouth and spat out his insult to Monet, the Hufflepuff turned and gave him a look that said 'Don't,' in hopes that he wouldn't continue to sink down to Miss Brown's level.

However, when she brought their family into it, Clementine whirled around so fast that she nearly sent her textbook sliding to the ground. She shot a practically murderous look at Monet and clenched her jaw to keep herself from retaliating with something just as nasty. Although usually sweet and even-tempered, even Clem could become ferocious when someone insulted her family. The urge to protect them was strong.

It took her a few moments to choose her words carefully, a dangerous edge to her voice, no matter how calm it sounded, "Miss Brown, I would thank you to leave our parents and our family out of it, if you know what's good for you."

Was that a threat from Miss Clementine Rookwood? Not exactly. But she knew her brother would likely have more words to say on the matter. At that thought, she turned and raised her eyebrows at him, still silently imploring him to back down so he didn't lose his house anymore points or end up in even more trouble. Whether he'd take her warnings or not, however, was on him.
Demelza McGonagall was not known for being the nicest person to walk the face of the Earth but unlike a fair chunk of these blundering idiots, at least she had tact. Clearly, they didn't. 'Melza had no issue with a well-placed insult either - as long as it wasn't directed to her - but she wasn't stupid enough to all but declare war before a teacher. That, however, did not mean that this was a show she wasn't going to enjoy watching. At Miss Brown's initial reply, she set down her quill, crossed her ankles and settled back to watch the show play out.

See the thing was, Miss Farley wasn't wrong. Professor Carmichael was quite attractive. Eye candy certainly made the class far more enjoyable and due to it, she was far more likely to drool (not that she ever would!) in class than sleep. Which helped her grade a lot. While the class was interesting as a whole, she was no born seer and there were some points that could easily bore her to death. She wasn't really creative enough to see shapes in tea leaves.

She startled in her seat, though, as Clementine spoke up and she cocked her head sideways to look at the Hufflepuff. "Oh, what do you know! The badger does have teeth!" she whispered, grinning. She wondered if Rookwood would continue or if she'd reach the end of her reach. It seemed her button was her family and with her brother in the room and Miss Brown clearly set on a warpath maybe she would get to see more.

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