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!

February 16th, 1889 - Podmore Zoological Gardens, Irvingly
@Jonathan Lawrence / @Billie Farrow
Well, I'm livin' in the shade of my mind
I just stopped for a second and I reasoned
I move forward like the seasons
-Greyson Chance
Another holiday had come and gone. One featuring love and hearts. It was an absurd holiday, really. Or, at least, Una Walsh thought it was. Perhaps it was the slight bitterness that had seemed to start forming around her heart that brought it out, but no one would be any the wiser if they saw her. A smile was always present on her features, laughter often bubbling from her as a result. And though she'd settled back into her own roots, literally with the red hair, she was still not quite the woman most in her past knew her to be. The smile was all for show but it never seemed to reach her eyes.

But.. life had to go on and so it did. Una kept moving along from day to day, week to week, season to season even. The one bright spot amid her otherwise frustrating life was Oscar. The erumpent, now nearing two years of age, had been the one true constant in her life. She always looked forward to her visits on him and he seemed to enjoy them just as much as she did. She was, after all, the only mother he'd ever really known after losing his own at such a young age. She'd seen to his care from the moment Jonathan had written to her and hadn't looked back. If anything, she rarely let anyone else see to his care even if he was perfectly healthy. There was certainly a bond that had formed between the two of them and it was evident by all the others that worked at the zoo.

The bright red haired American had just finished visiting Oscar within his enclosure and sharing a bit of lunch with him. Leaving his enclosure, she turned to head toward the aviary to see about a sick fwooper only to stop dead in her tracks. A man was standing there, just pushing away from the fence of Oscar's enclosure and turning to look in her direction. She'd know that face anywhere and was actually quite surprised to see him, unconcerned with how long he may have even been standing there watching her with Oscar. "Hello Jon," she said pleasantly with a smile though, as was usual, it didn't quite reach her eyes, "I'm used to the random owls from you but no so much seeing you drop in yourself."
Jonathan had rather suddenly found himself with a great deal of time on his hands for the first time in quite a few years. After parting with his research partners, he found himself struggling to land himself with work that was steady enough to keep him from needing to travel all over Europe. He had his own research, of course, but it didn't exactly put bread on the table. Temporarily, he found himself in Hogsmeade, assisting a fellow with his winged horses.

For two weeks, he'd agonized over the best way to approach Una. Irvingly, after all, wasn't far away. After a few random jaunts about the small town in hopes of simply running in to her, he finally plucked up enough courage to drop in at the zoo under the guise of checking in on Oscar's well-being.

When he finally located his enclosure, Jon paused at the fence, his breath hitching in his chest. There she was, standing there, a shock of red hair that was impossible to miss. He probably should have called out to her to gain her attention, but he found himself lingering there, just observing Una with the erumpent. The care in which she interacted with him made the American feel as if he shouldn't intrude just yet.

When Una made her exit and took notice of him gawking, Jon straightened and smoothed the front of his shirt. "Una." He let her name hang in the air for far longer than was necessary before beaming at her, a nervous twitch to his usual jovial grin. "I was in the area, and I thought I would drop in to see you. I do hope I'm not intruding."

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