We are a post-Potter roleplay set in 2019.
We have an active character driven plot, a short app and no word count.
It's June 2019 and at the moment, the wizarding world is facing a lot of tension with the werewolf community.
This is a result of anti-werewolf legislation being passed in 2016 after a series of brutal attacks.
Unfortunately, this legislation passing hasn't achieved anything.
Werewolves can't find jobs and without a source of income, this has left a lot of them facing poverty.
But instead of taking it laying down, there's starting to be waves of attacks once more.
How will the Ministry of Magic solve this problem now? Is it too late?
One pack, The Trossachs, have decided that an obvious solution is to no longer be a minority. The more wolves, the better.
Yet another pack, known as The Cotswolds, believe that approach will only deepen the mistrust and ostracism faced by the werewolf community.
Instead, this group, led by an independently wealthy werewolf means aims to educate the ignorant wizarding community and change legislation by winning the support of the majority.
An attempt to capture the beta of the Trossachs has been launched. Were the Aurors successful in their mission? Go read more here!
For the second time in a few short weeks, Greta found herself packing up her trunk again. It was strange, really, all she had in the world anymore being able to fit in this trunk, not knowing if the contents of the house would ever come back to her. If she'd known that she wouldn't be going back, that they wouldn't be escaping the Aurors this time, maybe she'd have packed more practical things. But as it was, she'd felt like there were some things she couldn't leave behind: her best fur coat and her dress with the flowers and all of her favorite books and of course, her violin, and even having to sit on the trunk just to close it, it didn't seem like she'd packed enough.
But that was all that she had to take with her as their new guardian was coming to take them to her house today, her and her sister, and Greta looked at the singular trunk with a rueful expression, feeling all too reminded of home. Home that she might never see again. Perching on the lid of the trunk, she glanced over at Clara, who was closing the lid on her own trunk. At least being in a house would be better than the inn room the girls had to stay in while their parents' trial was happening, but Greta still didn't know what to expect. Would it be as nice as home? Would Emma be kind, would she understand what their life had been like?
Post by EMMA MOUNTBATTEN-SMYTHE on Feb 9, 2020 18:50:12 GMT
To be honest, Emma was still not quite sure how she had ended up agreeing to this. When the question had been asked, her attention had, she would admit, been almost entirely elsewhere, and so the response that she'd given had received precisely no thought. Still, she could hardly have said no afterwards, and so here she was, arriving at some odd little inn which she regarded with some surprise as she made her way through, introduced herself at the bar, and went up the stairs to the room where she would meet the girls who were to be given into her care. Surely they could have found somewhere better than this for the daughters of a Rowle?
She paused outside the door which she'd been directed to and knocked a couple of times, waiting for a response before entering. Manners cost nothing, after all, and children were no less entitled to privacy than she was herself- which, come to think of it, was a point which she should probably bring up at some point today. Later on, obviously. It did not make for the most compelling introduction, and as a lawyer, Emma was very good at compelling.
"Good morning," she greeted the pair with a smile. "Let me see, now... Greta and Clara?" Emma glanced from one to the other as she spoke- she'd been told that Greta was the younger, and it wasn't a difficult distinction, she didn't think, but then she wasn't used to children.
Greta wasn't entirely sure what kind of person she'd expected to walk through the door, but she wasn't sure she'd expected their new guardian to be as young as she was. She knew that she herself looked fairly small still, especially next to her tall brother and father, but Emma didn't seem as if she was old enough to have ever been their mother. Certainly not Viktor's or Clara's, and very doubtful that she could be Greta's.
It wasn't really as if someone could replace their mother, though, and Emma didn't have to, even if the words Azkaban for life still rang in Greta's ears. Her parents were always strict, but they loved them; always made sure they had the best even in their situation. Greta had always wished for more adventure, always stared outside the window and dreamed, but she knew why they'd been so protective: because if they weren't, things would be like they were now, with them in prison and their children without parents.
And yet it had happened anyway.
"I'm Greta, that's Clara," she said, gesturing at the other blonde girl who looked so very like her. Turning back to her trunk, she bit her lip, realizing how heavy it was. Her hand reached for her wand, but she stopped before she could pronounce any spell. She'd been told that in Britain, it was illegal for her to do magic outside of school until she was seventeen, but she had no idea how she was going to drag the trunk around without a spell. At home there hadn't been any such laws, and she wondered how children did anything with this kind of restriction.
Post by EMMA MOUNTBATTEN-SMYTHE on Feb 14, 2020 11:03:30 GMT
Emma nodded. "Well, it's nice to meet you." Somewhat belatedly, she realised that she hadn't the faintest idea of how one was supposed to speak to children, but she ploughed on anyway, vaguely recalling her own time at what was probably a similar sort of age. "I'm Emma; I'm going to be looking after you both for the time being." How long that might be, she really didn't know, but this was not the time to be bothering with such details. It was the last thing that she needed to be thinking about at present; she was far too busy trying to deal with the present, without thinking too far ahead and complicating things further.
Watching the girl eyeing her heavy trunk, the brunette took out her own wand and flicked it towards the object, causing it to rise slightly into the air. "That should be more manageable for you," she advised, slipping her wand back up her sleeve. "Now, is there anything you've forgotten? Anything you need that you haven't got?" Admittedly, she didn't exactly have the time at present for a shopping trip, but she was sure that she'd manage to cram it in... somewhere. Mentally, Emma reviewed her schedule. She'd left the morning clear for helping to sort things out with the Rowle girls, but she had a fair few meetings to get through this afternoon, and it would probably be advisable to have lunch at some point... Not much time to spare, then. "I hate to rush you, but I think we ought to be going."
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