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)
Featured Adoptable

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!

Back From the Edge
March 28th, 1889 — Oakshire Hall, Kent
It hadn't been easy to get in through the window but the more difficult it seemed, the more of a challenge it became. She wasn't going to let Tiberius think he was superior just because he could now turn into a bird and let himself in wherever. With a soft 'thud' she landed on the floorboards on the other side of Tiberius' window.

In the back of her mind she'd known he'd be waiting for her, that he hadn't said his bedroom window because he didn't feel like going into her room to open one of hers, and yet she was still a little surprised to find him there, waiting. He'd said something about a bath and the thought had grown more appealing by the second since he'd said it, was he going to start a confrontation now? Punish her for running off? Maybe if she didn't turn back he'd just let her trot off to take a bath and that would be that. In the meantime she'd just stare at him.

The thud of her landing on the floorboards made him look up from the book he'd been reading while he waited for her. He made a point of not getting up or appearing to take much note of her presence. They were back to their old power games, he supposed, but on even footing once again since he'd completed the Animagus transformation. He was determined not to let her get the upper hand during this first interaction, especially after the admission that she'd made in the forest.

"Ah," he said carelessly. "Finally. I was beginning to think you'd changed your mind."

Not really; it was just something to say to rile her up. If he actually thought there was any chance of her not coming home, he probably would have taken some steps to ensure it. He might have flown around the property to keep an eye on her, or set up some sort of magical alarm should she try to get too far from the house after he left her in the woods. He'd been confident that she was coming back to Oakshire Hall, though — against all reason, he realized. It would have been a perfectly logical thing for her to have gone elsewhere, after he let her survive their last conversation. He'd threatened her if she didn't come home, but when had his threats ever stood in her way before? Somehow, though, he had trusted that she would come back, and his instinct had been correct.

"The bath is drawn up," he said, returning his attention (at least superficially) to his book.
If lynx faces could make sour looks she was directing one at him. She hadn't taken all that long to get there, he was just rubbing it in that she wasn't the only one who was an animagus anymore. Also that he was faster.

At the mention of a bath she shifted back. "I guess I'll be off to my room then..." She started to walk towards the door. The situation, his choice of words, both now piqued her suspicion. Her gut instinct said that she wouldn't find a bath waiting where she usually had it, that he'd absorbed all that she'd said in the woods more attentively than he'd let on at the time and now she'd pay for her sloppy honesty.

"My bath," he clarified, looking up at her sternly. "You don't so much as step foot in the hallway until you're clean and dressed properly again."
And there it was.

Tig raised her eyebrows at him but otherwise gave no indication that she was surprised, namely because she wasn't. "Or what?" She was already sauntering in the direction of the promised bath although she was trying to make it seem like a reluctant saunter or he might get it in his head that she was being willfully obedient. In her human form she felt even more in need of a bath.

She paused when she drew level with his bedroom door and stopped there to undo the clasps on her corset and deposit it on the floor. Hopefully he'd think for just a moment that she wasn't actually going to the bathroom. After pausing long enough for him to jump to the conclusion that she was going to burst into the hallway in her filthy torn chemise, she continued on towards his bathroom. "There'd better be clothes ready for me in there."

Tiberius watched her remove her corset with mild amusement. It wasn't as though the stakes were too high if she did decide to do something stupid. Beyond the door was only the hallway of their home, not King's Cross Station. If she made a fool of herself in the hallway and one of the servants saw, he could always meddle with their memory. Or kill them. He could think up some suitable punishment for her, too. The idea of her disobedience didn't even make him angry, not really. The conversation in the woods seemed to have given him something of a clean slate when it came to his interactions with Antigone. He would make the rules, and if she was willful he would think of a way to try and break her — but the feeling that he'd had when he set out that afternoon, the feeling that he was at his wits' end and there was nothing left to be done, was gone.

She turned towards the bathroom and made her comment about the clothes. Tiberius snorted in response. "Or what?" he echoed back at her. He hadn't forgotten that she'd left her wand behind when she stormed off before, and surely she hadn't, either. What exactly did she plan to do?

There were clothes laid out in the bathroom for her, although it was only undergarments and a house coat. Tiberius didn't understand female fashion enough to pick a dress that she could get into without assistance, and if she needed help dressing after her bath... well, that just wasn't going to happen.
If he thought she was going to make a break for her room then he gave no indication of it to her slight disappointment. "Wouldn't you like to know!" It wasn't as though she could summon anything so she supposed she'd probably just skulk off to her room as a lynx, but that wasn't much of a threat.

Once she reached the bathroom she shut the door firmly behind her and would have gone as far as bolting it shut - loudly so that he'd hear and get the message more than anything else - but of course there was no need for such a thing, should he ever want it locked he could just use magic. Tig shed her remaining layer of clothing and hopped into the bath before she even had a chance to check whether there were clothes or not. She couldn't remember a time when she'd appreciated a bath so much in her entire life, not even when she'd occasionally made use of the giant bath in the prefects bathroom. She submerged her head completely in the water and held her breath for as long as she could. Her enjoyment of the bath left her as soon as she resurfaced and saw how dirty the water had gotten. She scrubbed herself clean rather harshly in her hurry to get out of the gray-brown water and for the second time since entering the bathroom, wished she'd retrieved her wand first, she could have fixed the dirty water situation instead of rushing.

She dressed and decided as she did so that he must have been the one to pick out her clothes - a maid would surely have compiled a complete outfit - and wasn't sure how she felt about him rummaging through her drawers. On the upside it meant she didn't have to put a dozen layers of uncomfortable clothing on yet. "I'm clean, are you happy now?" She made an effort to sound snarkier than she felt as she flung the bathroom door open. "Have you seen my wand? I need to dry my hair."

He'd expected the bath to take longer, considering the state she was in, and so he was a little surprised when she opened the door again so soon. She looked ... better. Even half-dressed and with stringy wet hair, it was a remarkable change. The disgust he'd felt on finding her in the woods had evaporated. Since their conversation he had been focusing only on the short term: that he wouldn't have to kill her right away. Now, Tiberius felt for the first time since she'd stormed out in January that their relationship might be sustainable in the long term. The woman before him now could be a proper wife—or, at least, she could pretend.

Pulling himself from these thoughts and back to the question she'd asked, Tiberius raised an eyebrow meaningfully at her. "Your wand?" he asked dryly. "You don't mean to tell me you've misplaced it?"

He had it, of course. Antigone would have been a fool not to have realized that already — and an even bigger fool to think he'd give it back so easily, when all she'd offered in exchange was that little speech in the woods.
"I left it with my dress which obviously isn't here anymore. If you don't have it then one of the servants must have stolen it." She folded her arms across her chest and shot him a look that made it quite clear that she didn't think it was the latter. "Although it's possible someone might have put it in my room, maybe I should go check before getting the servants in trouble." Not that she cared about getting any of them in trouble on false pretenses.

Between making her enter the house via his room, making her bathe in his bathroom, she got the distinct impression he wanted her present for some reason so it seemed reasonable to expect he might cough it up sooner if she tried to leave. "Now that I'm clean and dressed you shouldn't have any problem with me going out into the corridor." She started towards the door once again except this time she actually intended to use it if he didn't stop her first.

Tiberius really had just wanted her cleaned up before she started parading around the house and causing the servants to raise questioning eyebrows. Mostly, anyway. There was certainly an element of power play in being able to order her to enter the house through his bedroom window, and to strip down naked in his bathroom. Anything to get her just that much further from her comfort zone. He didn't have any reason to hold her, though, and so he merely shrugged at her comment.

"By all means," he said, gesturing to the door and looking back down at the book in his lap. He'd only read about a page in total since she'd entered the room, including when she was in the bath, but he hoped that he was putting on a good show of being far more interested in the book than in her.

"So good to have you back home, darling," he added, tone full of snark.
He was calling her bluff, she just knew it! Unfortunately, it was working. What really halted her stride was the word darling. It was like nails down a chalkboard and suddenly she realized she'd made it impossible to lose her temper with him the way she had been of late because of what she'd said, he'd know. Naturally that just made her all the more angry. She made an abrupt change of direction and stormed over to him rather wishing she hadn't as soon as she was within a couple feet of him.

"I know you have it." Tig tried to flippantly knock the book he was reading clean out of his hands. "What do you want?" Not that that meant she'd necessarily humor him, first she just wanted him to admit he was in possession of it.

Antigone managed to smack the edge of his book cover with her hand and close it, though he was able to keep hold of it and prevent it from falling to the floor. Since he hadn't been reading it anyway, he was more amused than anything by this little display.

"Of course I have it," he said, voice almost playfully sardonic. "For safekeeping. I wouldn't have been so careless as to let it be lost," (a clear jab at Antigone for leaving it behind in the first place).

Returning his attention to his book with a casual facade, he continued, "You can have it back when you've earned it."
Tig sneered slightly at the jibe. As if she'd meant to leave her wand behind! She'd only forgotten it because he'd separated her from her clothes and then made her so angry she'd been left no option but to abruptly depart. It was entirely his doing.

"Earned it?" she echoed, her tone making it quite clear how she felt about that idea. It was, she felt, beneath her dignity to work towards anything and there was certainly no way she'd tolerate going wandless for one more day.

"Supposing I were to cooperate," Tig placed a knee on the edge of his bed and leaned over him, "what would that entail?"

Tiberius arched one eyebrow high as he surveyed the pose his wife had taken. She couldn't have chosen it accidentally, he didn't think. Her knee raised, her leg on display, her torso leaning over him. She was trying to be seductive. If she thought that was all it was going to take to get her wand back, she was sorely mistaken — but he supposed there was no harm in playing along.

Setting his book aside deliberately, he rose from the chair. The way that she'd leaned over him put them within inches of each other, and in a heartbeat Tiberius had his mouth pressed forcefully against hers.
She flinched and emitted a fleeting sound of surprise at being kissed. She'd been angling to be imposing or rather give Tiberius the impression that that was her intention seeing as she highly doubted he'd actually feel threatened. This hadn't been her plan. Why was he doing this? Was this his answer to her question or was it entirely his impulse? Either way it wasn't as repulsive to her as she wanted it to be which actively became a problem when she realized she had started to kiss him back.

It simply wouldn't do. So she bit down for a moment and hoped he mistook her momentary reciprocation for imaginary. Recoiling slightly, she fixed him with an affronted look. "You didn't answer me."

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   Ophelia Devine

"I shouldn't have to," Tiberius retorted, remaining close to his wife and meeting her eyes from less than a foot away. "I've been very clear about my expectations for you since the day we married." He had been more upfront with her than with perhaps anyone else in his life. Even his uncle Lucius didn't know some of the things she did — like the fact that both of his daughters were still alive, or the competitive ire that had been driving him for nearly the past year. And Tiberius certainly didn't think he'd ever been unreasonable. He'd responded harshly at times to her antics, but that had always been her fault. Plenty of young women would have had no problem at all existing within the confines of the role of Mrs. Lestrange; some might even have enjoyed it. He had approached her with respect and even made their meetings in the night as brief and painless as possible — until she'd pushed him to do more.

Most women would have had no trouble being his wife. Antigone simply wasn't most women.

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