With the capture of Verandi Farley and several high-ranking Trossach members, the British wizarding world has finally caught a break. The rate of rogue werewolf attacks have started dropping at a steady rate and, hopefully, things will stay that way. The Ministry is starting to loosen some restrictions, like not arresting werewolves standing on the street for loitering, however there’s still an obvious power imbalance between wizardfolk and werewolves.
The Cotswolds pack are continuing to advocate for the rights of werewolves and petitioning to change the legislation that has been set in motion by the current Minister for Magic, whilst the remaining Trossachs members are trying to stay out of the spotlight and keep a low profile… for now.
Whilst the British wizarding world seems to have calmed down, the same cannot be said for over in Northern Europe where a rebellion of magical creatures has risen. The state of things has gotten so bad that the European Ministry has enacted protocols to protect those under eighteen whilst their adult witches and wizards fight to keep control of their countries.
Students from Durmstrang have been sent to Hogwarts to keep them safe and those not old enough to attend school have been sent to live with relatives or designated British Ministry officials outside of Europe for the time being.
Will the low rates of werewolf attacks in Britain continue? How long will Durmstrang students stay at Hogwarts? Will the creatures usurp the wizardfolk in Northern Europe? Only time will tell.
SEPTEMBER 2019 It's been a very long, eventful summer in the wizarding world. A baby was stolen, several high ranking Trossach members were imprisoned, and werewolf attacks have drastically dropped as a result. What will happen now school has returned?
MAY 2019 An attempt to capture the beta of the Trossachs has been launched. Were the Aurors successful in their mission? Go read more here!
Stumbling out of the bloody kissing party, one thing was abundantly clear to Greyson and that was that he had tipped over the line from being tipsy to fairly bloody intoxicated. Not enough to vomit, no, he knew how to hold his booze and he could still (mostly) walk in a straight line but he was having fun. That was the sign of him being on his way to well and truly drunk, when he stopped feeling so goddamn miserable and he could just live in the moment instead.
Leaning against a concrete wall just outside of the Room of Requirement, Greyson eyed every passerby whilst pulling out a packet of smokes from his pocket. Tipping one out, he shoved it between his lips and lit the end with his wand, brows raising at every single person who shot him a filthy look. Boo hoo, they could cry like little bitches all they wanted because he didn't give a shit. Werewolves would probably kill them first before they died of 'second hand smoke' anyway, given how things were going.
Spying a flash of blonde coming towards him, her trademark eyes ringed in black, Greyson hollered, "Vale! Get your 'panda eye' arse over here. Shit, man, you'd think they'd come up with something better to insult you wish by now but..." He shrugged, taking a drag of his smoke as he tilted his head back and blew it towards the ceiling in an exhale.
Colwynn couldn't speak for everyone, but she had had a grand time. She got to make out with some people, make some people uncomfortable. Over all, she was just living her best life. She had stolen maybe one or two drinks too many, but she wasn't particularly concerned about that. What was the worst that would happen? She'd get drunk? The school would send for her father and they'd give her a proper scolding? They wouldn't expel her. She hadn't ever gotten in trouble before. If anything, her dad would let the school give her a warning and then he'd pull her aside and remind her of how to convince people you're fine when you're clearly fucked up.
She was about to head off to her own tower when someone called her over. Her eyes narrowed when Greyson commented on her 'panda eyes'. He must have been drunk because that was the most overused and unoriginal insult people dished out to her.
She did go to him when he asked her to, but mostly because she was drunk and why the hell not?Without a word, she took one of his cigarettes and lit it, using the already burning end of one of the cigarettes in his mouth. "It's honestly crazy," she said. "I'mean I'm a total piece of garbage so the possibilities are endless when it comes to insulting me. Now, what do you want?"
Greyson just shrugged when Colwynn decided to nab a cigarette because whatever. No big deal. But he was impressed (okay, no, turned on) when she lit her cigarette on his. "Are we going to shotgun next?" he said sweetly, before snorting at her bluntness. Yeah, okay. He could maybe admire that too - most people were too wussy and lacked back bone to straight up ask what another person wanted. But her straight-forwardness didn't necessarily mean he was going to co-operate. "I can't want the downright fucking pleasure of your company, Vale?"
The truth was that Greyson was bored. Plain and simple. Yeah, he'd snogged a few people in that party but they were all so... goody goody and innocent that quite a few kisses had nearly sent him the eff to sleep. "You reckon everyone else is going to bed-dy byes now instead of getting up to shit and realising there's more fun to be had then just kissing?" he asked, raising his eyebrows at her. Kissing was basic, like... level one stuff. There was a lot more you could get into than just that, and he fully intended on getting to at least level three stuff by the end of the night with any luck.
Colwynn raised an eyebrow when he asked if they were going to shotgun. "You say that like it didn't stop being cool back in 1997." She shook her head and took another drag of the cigarette. Not that she was an authority on what was cool. Most people thought she was a hot mess. They were right. She was kind of a hot mess. She prided herself on being self-aware of the mess she was.
She raised an eyebrow at his suggestion that he just wanted to 'enjoy her company'. Then she laughed, a loud and hearty laugh that was truly genuine. "Oh please. The only person who enjoys my company is Aaron Vale. David Grohl seemed to like me, but he was fucked up so who knows?"
Colwynn finished off the cigarette and dropped it on the ground, grinding it out with the heel of her boot. She reached out and took his carton of cigarettes, taking out another cigarette and lighting it. "You're about as subtle as a brick, you know? If I"m going to have to look at you any longer than necessary I'm gonna need more fucking booze."
"You say that like bleached blonde didn't stop being cool in the 90s," Greyson shot back, though there was no venom behind it. Shotgunning was a great prelude to a good snog, being inches away from each other's mouths and all. It was hot, if you asked him.
"Who the fuck is Aaron Vale," Greyson asked bluntly because seriously, who was he? Another Yank? Was there more than one in this school? Because bloody hell, he hoped not. They didn't need an invasion by the Americans here - they were already being taken over by a hoard of do-gooders and their shrill voices proclaiming 'yay werewolf rights!' were enough to hurt his ears. He didn't need American voices adding to that. "I don't know who David Grohl is."
Greyson's intention was never to be subtle. He didn't play smooth, not really. But it seemed like an easy way to transition into 'wanna shag?' than asking out-bloody-right like some sleazeball. Reaching into his pocket, he threw a flask her way with a quick instruction of, "catch!" before snorting. "What do you mean more booze to look at me? You saying you don't find me hot? Fuck, cuts deep, Vale, knowing you're not eager to drop your knickers for me without having a couple of shots in you."
"Oh Greyson. You seem to be under the impression that I'm trying to be cool. Or, perhaps, that I think I'm cool. Neither of those things are true, of course. Nobody could possibly have a lower opinion of me than myself. And not that you asked, nor does it matter, but my hair's not bleached. Got it from my mom's side. Which accounts for why I'm so difficult to be around and why my hands get hot when I'm pissed."
Wynn smirked a bit when Greyson didn't seem to know who Aaron Vale was, even as the groundskeeper, but especially not from his band from back in the glory days. "Oh just a washed up Irishman and grunge icon. They're both grown-ass men."
"Don't take it personally," Colwynn said as she took another drag of her cigarette. Or at least what was now her cigarette. "I just like making questionable choices when I can blame it on liquor. I got that from my dad's side."
Stumbling out of the bloody kissing party, one thing was abundantly clear to Greyson and that was that he had tipped over the line from being tipsy to fairly bloody intoxicated. Not enough to vomit, no, he knew how to hold his booze and he could still (mostly) walk in a straight line but he was having fun. That was the sign of him being on his way to well and truly drunk, when he stopped feeling so goddamn miserable and he could just live in the moment instead.
