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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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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!

A Bad Time to be a Bella
23rd April, 1888
The Flint Estate, Dorset

It had been three days since Julius had tried to persuade the former auror not to visit @Bella Scrimgeour and Argus was still seething. Where had he gone so wrong that even his son dared speak out of turn? Was his unfortunate daughters influence truly starting to taint his only son, too? Argus was becoming increasingly more aware that Araminta was to be the only child of his whom he could truly say he was happy with.

And that's where his attention was turned to as he woke up that morning. He had discussed his plans with Media during breakfast and noted - or rather made it abundantly clear - that Araminta seemed to be the only child that was doing any good. Of course, he didn't truly feel like Julius was a disappointment; far from it; but he was still livid that the boy had spoken out of turn.

Sliding his wand into one of his robes inside pockets, Argus straightened out his robe and jacket and patted himself down. It was the middle of the afternoon and Argus was ready to see his daughter.

Electing to apparate, rather than floo, Argus appeared outside Media's sister's house and he knocked harshly thrice; no more, no less.

Once Laverna let him in, Argus said his polite welcome and moved to where he had been informed his daughter was.

"Back straight, chin up and look me in the eye, Annabelle Scrimgeour." He said coldly; there was no sense in him greeting her. She didn't deserve it.

"Why am I finding your name in almost every copy of that damn tabloid, child?" He started fairly calmly though it didn't take long for his volume to rise, "Do you care nothing for this family? Are you determined to see my name dragged through the dirt?" Argus swallowed and stood firm, looking down at his daughter, "You'd best have a good explanation as to why you're presumed to be acting a harlot."
Bella had little knowledge of when her father had planned to show up, or even if he really did. She'd learned something about herself that week, and it was that she was inclined to stress about the unknown — especially when the unknown was this. It didn't make it much easier when she was informed a mere minute before her father arrived in the sitting room.

She rose the minute he entered the room, not out of respect, but out of fear and impulse. She was ready to apparate away if he tried to strike her, and she was prepared to fight (which, seeing that he was a former auror, was not a good plan) if he drew his wand before she could flee. He didn't do that, though, and instead chose intimidation as his method.

Sadly, Bella's method of responding to intimidation was a defensive one, and her father had previously shown a negative response to her attempts to defend herself and her actions.

"They - They put everyone's name in the tabloids," she offered weakly, her voice cracking as he stood in front of her. "It's all speculation, father. I - they - you know..." Even though she'd rehearsed the spiel she'd planned to give her father many times on the off chance that he did come to Dorset, she couldn't manage to articulate herself properly.

She couldn't break down. Crying was likely make it worse, and he'd likely raise his voice to dominate the volume in the room. It was so tempting just to make a break for it — on feet, not even using magic — but she knew that plan would flop.

"Me being raised by - in the working class makes it easy to assume I'd act like a harlot," she squeaked, practically shrinking under his harsh gaze. "That's what society thinks. It's not my fault."

Post Log
Argus felt a sense of accomplishment the moment Bella rose to face him; her entire demeanour was one crafted out of fear and though it was evident she had no respect for him, fear demanded respect and in the retired aurors eyes, they were one and the same. Respect is born out of fear and people respected Argus Scrimgeour.

Where Argus had hoped to have a pleasant conversation with his daughter, it was becoming quickly apparent that Bella was more interested in doing what she always did. That was, argue with him until he got angry.

"Your sisters name isn't in it. Your mother's isn't. None of your cousins are, either." Argus hissed as he interjected her words, "And stop stuttering, child. I haven't raised a simpleton."

Her words about the working class and how it was everyone else's fault but hers visibly irked Argus. He inhaled deeply, towering over her, and had to stop himself from harming her; whether using magic or his own hands.

"Do not dare claim it is society that made you like this. At the very least, it was that Muggle filth who influenced and manipulated you to make you like this. But do not dare ever say your actions are anything but your own again. You are the one acting like a common whore. You are the one cozying up to people who have no prospects in life. You are the one bringing disgrace onto everything I have built for you and my family."

Argus' voice had raised to a shout and without realising, he had taken a hold of his wand and was clutching it tightly.

It was becoming increasingly clear to him that Bella needed to be taught a lesson.

"You are nothing but filth on my shoe, Annabelle. And you will learn to act as a Scrimgeour should. Am I clear?"
She was torn between wanting to fight back and wanting to fall to the floor in a fit of tears. There was no proper way to speak to her father, and she knew that; being defensive was the same as arguing, and obeying was the same as demeaning herself and admitting she was was the scum of the Earth. There was no balance, none at all, and the knowledge of that was crushing even before he'd come here and force her to attempt a balance.

She wanted to yell that he hadn't really raised her at all, and she wanted to yell that she'd just explained why she was an easy target. She wanted to shove him, kick him, and scream that his attitude towards her had made her feel unwanted in their small family unit — but she just couldn't find the will, and she couldn't find a way. It might have been the brave thing to do, but bravery without tact was plain stupidity.

All she could do is hold her breath and freeze at the sight of his wand making its first appearance. What did he think his wand would do. He... He wouldn't assault her, would he? What good would that do? He knew that—.

But he didn't, not really. He, much like she did, acted on impulse, but his impulses were veered towards violence rather than running off with strangers to Ireland. She whimpered and took a step backwards, only for the back of her calves to bump into the legs of the chair behind her.

"Please, father, she rasped. This was the coward's way out and she knew it. "You know I would never purposefully do anything. I - I don't mean to," she offered lamely in a fit of dry sobs.

Post Log
His question had gone unanswered and where most people would see his daughter's retreat and subsequent pleading as a sign that the situation didn't need to escalate further, Argus couldn't help but see his daughter ignoring and disobeying him and he needed to teach her a lesson.

His eyes followed hers to his wand before he looked back up to her. He could see she wanted to cry, to escape; he could see that - and yet he didn't make any attempt to put his wand away.

Argus was a man who knew his station in life and demanded others knew - and respected - it. He was the type of man that, were he not attacked all those years ago, could have been a positive influence on the cowering girl in front of him.

He was that type of man but now, Argus Scrimgeour was not. He was the type of man who did not know how to keep his emotions in check. He was the type of man who would see a shadow and think it his attacker. He was the type of man who mistook anger for calm and violence for peace.

Argus Scrimgeour was the type of man who would see his child - vulnerable and scared - trying to tell him baseless rumours held no value and trying to plead with him not to hurt her and see it as defiance.

He flicked his wand harshly upward and a sharp, stinging pain lashed across her cheek.

"Do not dare lie to me." He struck his wand back downward, striking her with the spell again. His voice was venomous at this point and one could argue that the former auror was not all-present.

"You are poison to this family, Annabelle." Argus spat, twisting his wand and moving it downward; causing his daughter to fall onto the ground, "And I will undo what that Muggle filth did to you."

His next spell was accompanied by a red streak aimed directly at his daughters body, with the intent on causing her more pain.
Panic set in the moment his wand was raised, but she didn't have time to react before she felt a burning lash across her cheek. She wasn't sure what spells were being used — he, as an experienced wizard, could attack her silently — which surprisingly allowed even more panic to set in. She let out a loud yelp as she attempted to scramble away, but his next blow knocked her straight to the ground. This was the exact reason she'd pleaded with her mother to suggest Aunt Laverna's Dorset home as an alternative to her immediate family's Wellingtonshire home, but it seemed even being in two separate countries (technically, at least) wasn't enough distance to escape her father.

She managed to clumsily scramble to her feet in desperation with the intent on making a run for the sitting room's door, only to find herself facing another direct hit to the chest. By this point, her tears were no longer accompanied by audible sobs; every yell for help was silenced by her own lack of breath and instead came out as a pained wheeze.

In that moment, all knowledge of her own magical ability was erased from her mind. She already had difficulties remembering to use magic for daily tasks, let alone with her survival instincts kicked in. The moment she found sturdy footing without another spell flying towards her Bella, barreled towards him with outstretched arms, as if she was attempting to push him to the ground. While not much shorter than him, she was much smaller in weight; she found herself practically bouncing off his larger body when she attempted to shove him.

Post Log
Argus would have likely stopped were his daughter to stay on the ground and accept her punishment (at least, it was what Argus viewed as deserving) but she didn't.

Where she was crying and letting out pained yelps, she had found the energy to get to her feet and run toward her father. At first, Argus just stood there in absolute shock that his child would dare try to stand against him. His shock dissipated quickly as her frame knocked into him, causing the former auror to take a step back to keep balance.

He had been angry and now - because his daughter seemed intent on disrespecting and disobeying him - Argus was more than furious. It was as if hell was burning in his eyes and hell, at this exact moment, was burning hotter than the sun.

"How dare you." Argus hissed coldly, all emotion drained from his voice. He straightened his jacket and pointed his wand at his panting daughter.

"Stupefy." He said with a flick of his wrist, causing a bright light to jolt from his wand and onto her.

Laverna, though in the house, knew better than to intervene when Argus was angry; most people did - more for fear of getting the brunt of his emotions than anything else.

"You're even acting like a Muggle. I did not bring a mudblood into this world." Argus spoke between casting his array of spells: this time, a spell with no noticeable visual effects, though it was most often used - when cast verbally - to cause a horrible forceful feeling on a person, much similar to being pushed under the weight of a hydraulic press.

"You will learn your station in life. And it is not as a whore with no respect for her superiors, however inclined you are to that life."

At this moment, Argus moved toward his daughter and knelt down before slapping her forcefully with his free hand.

"Stand up." He ordered with a challenging tone, taking a few steps back. "Draw your wand and attack me seeing as you feel the desire to run at me like a blind House Elf and try to act as if you know anything."

Argus had already raised his wand incase he needed to cast a protective charm (a reflex from his Auror days, no doubt). The way he saw it, she wanted to play the brave and courageous hero standing against the nasty villain except in this fairytale - at least in the eyes of Argus - he was not a villain.

He was a benevolent God trying his best to make sure his own flesh and blood did the right thing.

And if they didn't, he had no qualms showing them the error of their ways and making sure they never made the same mistakes again.
It wasn't the cruciatus curse, but it was certainly enough to force Bella into a panic attack. What did she even do? She wasn't an unskilled witch by any definition of the term, but defensive magic had always been her weakness, not to mention that her father was a former auror. She was at his mercy, as much as she hated to admit it.

She wasn't admitting it, though, at least not in the moment. Getting away from the constant stream of spells being fired at her was the task at hand — surviving — was the task at hand. Part of her wanted to believe her father would never actually murder her, but from the venom leaving his mouth it was difficult to believe he didn't intend on killing her.

Her only moment of being able to move was when he lowered his wand for a moment to slap her, but she couldn't convince her body to move off the floor and towards the door. His demands for her to get up were met only by a wheezing noise as she moved into a fetal position, her chest heaving on its own accord as she suffered through what she assumed was a panic attack. She couldn't comply, she couldn't plead for mercy, she couldn't do anything.

Post Log
Argus couldn't help but grin as Bella lay curled up on the floor with her fast panicked breaths and quiet distressed whimpers. He hadn't really wanted her to stand against him and attempt to attack him - however futile that may have been for her. It would have shown how defiant she was, how determined to belittle him she was and, perhaps most importantly, it would have shown Argus that she truly did not deserve to be his daughter.

Argus lowered his wand and watched his daughter lay on the ground, though he kept a firm grip of it, and let out an almost contented sigh.

"Good girl," Argus said, moving to perch against a small end table, "You do know your place in life, Annabelle."

Argus lulled his head and bit his lip, his expression fixed in an almost intrigued position; "You will learn that there is an order to things, girl. And that order begins with me and ends with you," He crossed his arms, wand still in hand, "And whilst you may be my daughter, you need to earn the respect from me that status presents you. I will not tolerate any further indiscretions from you."

He paused.

"Because next time, I will not be as kind to you as I have been today."

Another pause as Argus allowed Bella time to take in what he was saying.

"Do I make myself clear?"

Once Bella had calmed down enough to answer, Argus inhaled and shifted his tone.

"Now, let me start again. Why do I keep seeing your name in a washed up gossip tabloid? And will I see it in there again?"
Her father was no father, at least not in this moment. He was a man who craved dominance and fear; she doubted respect had any part of it. She couldn't imagine how a man who had once been stable enough to make it into the auror training program could now stand here and practically torture his own flesh and blood.

That was just it, though. She was his flesh and blood when he wanted to claim power over her; however, the moment she disappointed or upset him, she was no blood to him. She was just the mudblood he'd graciously taken in, likely to give the appearance that her family wanted her back despite the condition she'd been in.

Bella's strength often shined through at the most inappropriate times, and that was exactly what was happening as she calmed and began to think rationally, angrily, about the words spewing from her father's mouth. Her lips remained in a tight line, holding back any signs of emotion — pain, weakness, or the brewing anger.

How he could just return to a calm tone after that... it was just appalling.

Her chest shook as she gave into her emotions, and the next moment she was pushing herself off the floor. Her face burning red, she let out some sort of strangled grunt before sending an aimless stunning spell in his direction. Before he could respond, she clumsily pivoted on her foot and apparated away.

Post Log
Argus stood as his daughter began to rise. Finally, he thought, she was going to admit she needed to be better than she was and for the faintest flash if a millisecond, Argus felt what he vaguely remembered to be pride. Annabelle Scrimgeour was finally going to act as his daughter and he would finally be able to begin shaping her into the woman she could be.

At least, that was what he thought.

In reality, Bella had elected to pursue one of the biggest acts of defiance Argus had ever seen and as she looked at him with eyes he could swear were his own, Argus defensively swished his wand in an upward arc; casting the shield charm and causing the stunning spell to dissipate into nothing.

Before he could react, she was gone. And he was left there in his sister-in-laws house to contemplate his one, singular emotion: anger.

This was the last straw. He could have followed her apparation but instead, he let out a loud yell and put his wand away.

He stormed to where Laverna was and spoke briskly, "The moment that deplorable excuse for a witch steps one foot back into your house, you will notify me or I will not be held accountable for my actions. I have some things to take care of."

Before allowing her time to respond, Argus apparated back to his house and pulled his wand from his robe. He walked to the kitchen where it sounded like Media was and slammed the door shut.

Argus would deal with Bella in due course though for now, the woman who birthed her was going to pay for bringing that thing into the world.


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