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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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Brigit Langley for Fletcher Langley.
The Matchmaking Menace
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!

January 7th, 1888 - Random Lower Corridor, Hogwarts
Tansy was shocked.

And hurt.

She had really liked Jemima Farley. The older Hufflepuff had been really quite kind to her on more than one occasion. She'd even felt comfortable enough to show her some of her sketches which was something Tansy never did. Terry hardly even saw them and he was her twin brother. But on a whim one day when she'd been feeling particularly good about her designs, she'd opted to show them to the other girl. Jemima had seemed enthusiastic about them, raved about them even. But, apparently, she hadn't thought any of the things she had said at all. At least, not according to the journal entry detailing such.

She'd seen it while at breakfast early in the morning, before most everyone was even up. She'd never been able to sleep in late and now she wished she had. Maybe then she wouldn't be navigating her way through the crowd finally heading to the Dining Hall. But there she was, tiny little Tansy Tatting walking opposite the general crowd. She assumed most wouldn't have seen the papers yet but she quickly realized how wrong she was. The journal entries were plastered everywhere apparently and when she heard her name being whispered about as she tried her best to get back to her common room, she felt the tears begin to burn more.

It wasn't until she was nearly run over and shoved aside that the tears finally fell. Normally it wouldn't have been an issue but the tightly held sketchbook she always had with her had been jarred in the process and all of her awful designs came spilling free from the book. With shoulders racking with silent sobs, she knelt to the ground and tried her hardest to pick up what she could before they were seen as the silent tears fell steadily down her cheeks.
Open to any student/faculty that would be in the Lower Level Corridors and likely headed to the Great Hall for breakfast

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After decades working at the school it was easy to spot the signs of the students fussing over some matter or another. The tell tale signs of gossip showed up as clearly as a fireworks charm. Whispers and pointed looks at students in the Great Hall, clustered students whispering as they walked to classes, and of course the endless heads put together to whisper during classes, no matter how many times Ellsworth tried to part them. It was better in those days to make it a work day. Which, after one look at the students heading to and from breakfast Ellsworth had already decided was the case today.

Ellsworth was reworking a lesson plan in his mind as he headed to breakfast, less worried about the gossip of the moment then the lessons he would have to teach, when he spotted one of the first years on the floor scrambling to pick up her papers. It looked like Jeremiah’s girl, Tansy.

While Ellsworth did not have favorite students, a point he was very strict on, he did have a tendency of watching out for the children of other staff members. Himself having had children, and now grandchildren, go through the school. He would have stopped regardless, but Miss Tatting was a good girl regardless of the situation and it appeared she wasn’t having a very good morning so far. Shame, it was pretty early in the day still.

Ellsworth removed his wand from the sleeve of his robe and cast a simple spell to collect the papers from around Miss Tatting and into his hand. “Miss Tatting, are you alright?” Clearly she wasn’t but young girls weren’t always the most willing to admit that he’d found. Something about pride. Well phfff on that. She looked like she needed a cup of hot chocolate and a good cheering regardless of what was going on.
Tansy was so focused on picking up all her sketches that she hadn't realized a professor was near. It wasn't until one of the pages she'd been about to grab flew away from her that she realized Professor Ruskin was there and helping her. Wide, tear filled eyes turned up to look at him with her sketches she hadn't managed to get neatly in his hand.

Sniffing and wiping her face with the back of her arm, she gave him a small shake of her head. There was no point in lying about it, especially not to a professor. It was more than evident that she wasn't alright. Her eyes were already red and swollen from crying and her cheeks were tear stained with silent tears still falling freely even as she moved to stand up. She clutched the sketchbook to her chest and tried to make the pages within it as orderly as possible but it was more of a losing battle than anything. She didn't say anything though, not trusting her voice in that moment but the shake of her head and look of her face surely answered his question well enough.

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Poor thing, Ellsworth couldn’t help thinking as she straightened up and shook her head. He handed her the stack of papers, from what he could tell sketches, “Come with me.” Ellsworth gave her no option leading her to his office and opening the door.

Take a seat.” Ellsworth gestured toward the two armchairs by the fireplace before he bustled over to the tea set. It had already set to work making him his morning tea and quickly poured itself into two cups. Ellsworth came over and handed one to the young girl.

Now, tell me what this is all about.” Ellsworth said gently as he settled into a chair across from her, the warmth from the fire warming his old bones.
There was really no room to tell Professor Ruskin no so Tansy simply followed him. A small nod was given before she trailed behind him mutely save for a few random sniffles as she worked at getting her emotions under better control. She did as she was told once they were in his office and took a seat. She mustered up the best smile she could when he handed her the cup of tea which she rested atop the sketchbook now on her lap.

"Thank you," she said softly, though it was evident she was still far from okay. The tears were no longer streaming but the emotions were still clearly raw and very real still.

"Apparently my.. my sketches are horrid," she said, just as softly as before as her eyes remained focused solely on the cup of tea in her hands. She'd never expected her sketches to be anything amazing but she had never thought they were that bad.

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At least Miss Tatting's tears seemed to have ceased by the time Ellsworth had brought her the tea. She still looked horribly upset. Like Rose tended to do when she got into one of her hysterical moods. Generally Ellsworth could ignore them in Rose, but young ladies like Miss Tatting reminded him of his own daughter too much to try and not help.

"And how has that been determined?" Ellsworth asked gently taking a sip of his tea as if they were only discussing the weather and nothing more.
Though Tansy appreciated the tea, she didn't think she could actually drink it. Not for fear of it coming right back up right there in Professor Ruskin's office. So there it sat, mostly forgotten in her lap as she simply stared at it even after he asked his question.

"An oldest student," she answered softly, unaware of how absurd it really sounded. She was simply focused on how upset it made her feel that anyone would think such things as her sketches. And now the whole school was likely to know about it as well.

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An older student. Ellsworth tsked and shook his head. Older students should know better. First years weren’t likely to have had the same amount of time as them to master anything, be it magic, or drawing, or speaking. First years looked up to the older students too so he could understand Miss Tatting’s disappointment.

That seems rather unfair of them.” Ellsworth said evenly, a hint of disapproval coloring his tone. He took a sip of his tea as he thought how best to approach this. Perhaps not directly or with logic, he decided after a moment.

Do you mind if I see them?” He asked Miss Tatting as if he were asking to see a masterpiece that had long hidden from the world.
Tansy shrugged. It was unfair but it was hardly a surprise. She knew her designs weren't at all what others were used to seeing but she hardly seemed the point in designing something that already looked just like everything everyone already saw. There were only so many ways the same styled dress could look different, after all. And that all just seemed, well, boring.

But she was quite surprised when he asked to see them. Her head shot up to look at him with wide eyes. She rarely showed them to anyone and the last time she did she'd gotten written poorly about it as a result. But she supposed there was little to be done by it now. He probably wouldn't be the last to ask about them now. Everyone was going to know that she sketched fashion styles and that they were awful. May as well just get it over with.

Cautiously, she handed over the sketchpad with its variety of sketches. Sure, most were of fashion designs and in rather bold and some even daring designs but there was also a variety of landscapes and animals as well. All were just sketches though, nothing overly finished but that was just the way she went about it.

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Ellsworth accepted the sketchbook as if it were a most serious problem that had come to his attention. He carefully flipped through each page taking the time to look at the sketches. Although they were unfinished they showed promise. With a few more years of practice and perhaps enrolling in an art course when she was older he was quite certain the designs would be quite excellent. They were certainly not of the low caliber of doodles he saw on exam papers from when students got bored.

Finally he closed the sketchbook and handed it back to Miss Tatting, again treating it like a prized artifact. “Well, Miss Tatting, I, personally, believe you show a great deal of promise. With a bit more practice I think even your initial critiquer might be quieted.” As it were the older student likely was jealous she hadn’t had such skills as a first year. But it did not do well to speak ill of other students in front of students.
Tansy sat in utter silence as Professor Ruskin flipped through the pages of her sketchbook. She couldn't help the blush of her cheeks or the way it made her entire face feel as if it were on fire. She rarely showed anyone her sketches. Her own twin rarely saw them. And now, with the way Jemima had talked about her sketches, she doubted she'd ever show anyone else again.

She managed a small smile at his words. She did doubt his words some though. Surely he was simply trying to make her feel better. That was what most adults tended to do, after all. And though it worked a little bit, she still had many doubts in regards to her capabilities.

"Thank you," she said softly as she took the sketchbook back and settled it on her lap once again, "I'll be sure to continue practicing."

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I’d expect nothing less of you.” Ellsworth told the girl kindly with a grandfatherly smile. “Now I don’t want you to be late for class. I don’t believe my colleagues would appreciate that.” And he had class himself. “But if you ever need anything, don’t hesitate to ask.
Tansy nodded as she moved to stand up, her sketchbook came up to be clutched against her chest. "Thank you," she said, again, and caused her cheeks to flush as a result, "Again." She moved away from the chair she'd been sitting in then. Pausing just at the door, she glanced back to Professor Ruskin, "I'll see you in class later today."

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