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!
Wolfgang had spent an hour lingering about at the Halloween ball, trying to enjoy himself, but when Isobel hadn't arrived after it was well past being fashionably late, Wolfgang was starting to become anxious. And he thought that said a lot, because for the past month he'd been drinking a calming draught prescribed to him by Mr. Karev, the hospital matron. He knew the potion did its job -- he'd felt more collected than he had in months, if not years, so to start feeling antsy now, when he had planned to enjoy the evening to the fullest...
It wasn't like Isobel to not show up to a ball without good reason. And, after all that had happened between the two young lovers, Wolfgang was sure she'd tell him if anything was wrong. But he hadn't a clue why she hadn't arrived. No owl, not even a charmed airplane. Absolute radio silence.
Once Wolfgang couldn't take it anymore, he ducked out of the Great Hall, hurrying to the lower levels of the castle. There was only one place where she could be -- the Slytherin common room. Wolfgang knew there was no point running straight for it -- he couldn't get in and there was no way he'd conveniently find a Slytherin student just lingering around. No, first he made a detour to the kitchens to enlist a house elf as a messenger.
"If she is in her common room or dorm, please tell her that Wolfgang is waiting for her right outside the common room. If you don't find her, come straight to me."
Those had been his instructions to a house elf that had responded to his request. Meanwhile Wolfgang proceeded down the stairs into the dungeons, fiddling with the bowl-shaped hat and hoping with all of his heart that Isobel was alright.
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Post by ISOBEL LINWOOD on Jun 3, 2020 1:45:50 GMT
the state of dreaming
It had been Wolfgang's idea, historical costumes. Isobel had raised an eyebrow at first, skeptical of the idea of looking like stuffy old people, with those odd sort of old robes she usually associated with the Headmistresss, but she had liked seeing her boyfriend full of ideas and smiles for the first time in months. And so she took to researching the costumes instead, collecting the pieces he would need to wear and getting to work on her own dress. It was made from a thick green fabric, trimmed with lace, reaching to the floor, and it had taken her what felt like forever to get right, arranging layers of lace and rows of buttons.
And in the days leading up to the dance, she found herself excited. They would look elegant, and this time she would know better how to dance. But what she hadn't expected was the trepidation she started to feel as she handed over her wand that afternoon. It had been nearly a year now, but it was hard, even impossible, to forget the terror that had changed her Boggart.
Being defenseless.
Isobel's hands were far clumsier than normal as she did up the buttons on her dress, watching the hands on her little clock tick closer and closer to the time of the dance, and then past its start. There was no hint here of the Isobel who had gone off to fight a werewolf for her sister--only an Isobel frozen, sat stiff on her bed in full Victorian ensemble, unable to convince herself to go to the Great Hall.
She jumped a little at the sound of the door opening, as there seemed to be nobody behind it, until she looked down, at the little creature poking its head into the dormitory.
"Mr. Wolfgang wants to see Miss Isobel! He is waiting outside the common room, he is."
Of course. Of course, just as Isobel had desperately searched for Wolfgang every time he had gone missing for the past two months, he would do the same for her.
"Thank you," she murmured, staring down at her hands, stretching them, as if forcing one part of her body to move might help the rest along. "You can tell him I'll be there in just a moment." She would be, not wanting to worry him, even if all she wanted to do was shed the dress and burrow into her blankets instead of feeling as if her greatest fear would jump out at her at any time.
When the house elf teleported in front of him with a loud crack, Wolfgang's heart almost leapt out of his mouth. Was Isobel not in the common room? Why was the elf back so fast? Had it even looked around?
But there was no cause for alarm, as the creature informed Wolfgang that Isobel had received his message and would meet him at the arranged spot. He thanked the elf and watched as it disappeared once more, before increasing his pace.
He arrived by the common room portrait just as it opened, with Isobel emerging from the doorway. "My God," he muttered, trying to take in all of the details of Isobel's outfit, "Isobel, my love, you look absolutely marvelous. Marvelous, indeed," he continued, taking off his leather gloves, wanting to take her hand in his, "I look like a pauper next to you."
But there was no proud smile on his girlfriend's face, which confused him. This was yet another work of art made by her hands, and yet none of the joy that had been present on her face just yesterday, when she had told him the dress was finished.
"The dance is in full swing, and you were nowhere to be found, so I came looking," he explained, approaching her, taking her right hand and leaning down to place a soft kiss on the back of it,"Were you planning to make a grand entrance, or is there another reason why you're still down here?"
all i really want is to be wonderful/people in this town, they can be so cruel
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Post by ISOBEL LINWOOD on Jun 4, 2020 15:37:47 GMT
the state of dreaming
A grand entrance--Isobel would have loved to do such a thing, but she couldn't very well do that when the simple thought of entering the Great Hall made her want to throw up. It had been almost a year now since the attack, and she had thought that maybe it wouldn't affect her anymore. She had done so many more brave things since then. And yet...
"I would have liked to," she said, her voice miserable even as she gave Wolfgang a small smile. He looked so nice, the picture of a dapper nineteenth-century man as he kissed her hand. She was letting him down, wasn't she? "I just--couldn't." As they began to walk down the corridor, Isobel stared at the stones of the floor, red rushing to her face. It was so silly, so stupid. All her life she'd loved parties, had loved the idea of them even before she'd ever been to one. How could a simple thing like handing over her wand ruin it all for her?
But it remained that she still felt frozen. No matter how much she told herself that she was overreacting, some little part of her mind kept screaming at her that it was dangerous. Without magic, what was she?
Stopping abruptly, she reached for Wolfgang's arm, tugging at it to ask him to stop as well. "I don't want to go after all--maybe I should just go back to the dormitory." She knew he was going to ask questions, but it still felt uncomfortable to admit that she was afraid of a dance.
The way that Isobel's voice sounded -- upset, even a little frail -- it made his chest hurt. It was a strange sensation, caused by such a seemingly small thing, the tone of one's voice, and yet...
"The night is still young, my love," he answered, taking her hand in his and gently leading her towards the other end of the hallway, to the staircase that would bring them out of the dungeons. "We've still time to become the talk of the evening." He didn't approach the subject of why she was hesitant, hoping that she'd explain herself unprompted, but instead she stopped them in their tracks just as they had reached the staircase.
"Wait, Isobel," he said, releasing her hand and instead placing his hands on her shoulders, squeezing them ever-so-lightly, "Why are you saying these things? You've worked so hard on this stupendous outfit of yours, it would be an utter shame if it never saw the light of day! This isn't like you. I would have to be void of any intelligence to be unable to tell that something isn't right. So please, tell me," he said, watching the reflection of the nearest torchlight flicker in her eyes, "Perhaps I can ease whatever is on your mind."
all i really want is to be wonderful/people in this town, they can be so cruel
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Post by ISOBEL LINWOOD on Jun 5, 2020 4:39:50 GMT
the state of dreaming
Isobel lifted her gaze to search Wolfgang's face, feeling miserable. She could tell he was worried about her--it was unmistakable. That very same emotion had been on her own face many times. When Wolfgang had gotten knocked out last year, when Mia-Rose had come back with the bite mark on her shoulder--she knew what it was like to worry.
But first, she had to make sure nobody was listening, peering down the corridor in both directions to look for any shadows. It was one thing to tell Wolfgang what was on her mind, but entirely another to have others know. Luckily, it seemed that most of the other Slytherins were either already at the dance or in their dorms like she had just been, and she began to speak, voice hushed.
"Do you remember last year, when we were facing the Boggart?" Isobel asked, leaning into Wolfgang's touch on her shoulders. "And mine, it was Theo?" Their onetime classmate, turned into a greatest fear. "It wasn't always him. Maybe you remember, from earlier years? It only became him after the ball, last year." Her eyes had fallen again, resting on Wolfgang's chest. "I didn't think it would affect me now. But then I had to give in my wand, and then--" I kept freezing up. I freaked out. "Something in my mind, it's not letting me go."
His brows furrowed in confusion as Isobel cast a timid glance around, as if she was about to tell him some horrid secret that must never see the light of day. What had happened? Had she decided that she no longer wished for his presence in her life? Or, worse, was she pregnant? The thought had crossed his mind for a mere second, but dread had already wrapped its cold hands around Wolfgang's intestines.
But it wasn't that. Not even close. And, while he was terribly glad Isobel wasn't pregnant, what she said didn't make feel him any better about the situation. Because Isobel was scared. Terrified, even, that the event of the Yule ball would be reprised. He could understand that, especially knowing that she hadn't had her wand around the first time. But this time wasn't like last Christmas.
"Oh, Isobel," he said, his voice quiet, "Isobel," he moved his hands from her shoulders to caress her cheeks before leaning in and pressing a chaste kiss on her lips, trying to avoid ruining her makeup, "I understand, my dear."
"But you must remember that you aren't the only one without a wand tonight. They've taken them away from everyone, even those who aren't going. The only one's that have wands are the staff members and the Aurors. And I sincerely doubt that any of our schoolmates are already adept at wandless magic to constitute any threat to us," he explained. "And don't forget, you have me, Isobel. Perhaps I'm not much for a fist fight, but for you I would without any hesitation."
He went silent for a moment. There was something that he had noticed, something that had been bothering him for a while. Those few times when their conversations had included the subject of bodily harm, each time he had tried to make a joke about the scars on his face to diffuse the tension, but it had never worked, eliciting a silent, yet noticeably negative response from Isobel. He remembered how he'd woken up the next day after the Yule Ball to the sight of Isobel sitting by his hospital bed in her pajamas, concerned about his health and guilty about her actions. Back then he had been upset with her, and she knew that.
But... Did she still feel guilty? Did she still think he was upset with her? Was that why she never got the joke? Did she not want to go in fear of hurting him again if something was to happen? He wasn't sure, but... It wouldn't hurt to remind her, right?
"And, perhaps it is egoistical of me to assume such a thing, but if this has anything to do with my scars, with you fearing of what you might do if all goes to hell... Isobel, I've long-since forgiven you. And I'd forgive you in a heartbeat again and again. I cannot fault you for defending yourself."
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all i really want is to be wonderful/people in this town, they can be so cruel
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Post by ISOBEL LINWOOD on Jun 5, 2020 17:01:51 GMT
the state of dreaming
Wolfgang's lips were soft against Isobel's, calm and gentle, everything she hadn't been feeling for several hours. Maybe he did understand--after all, he'd been hiding from his own Boggart since he'd appeared at Hogwarts unexpectedly. Wolfgang would know what it felt like to try and face a situation that struck fear into your heart.
"You're right," she murmured, "it would be hard for something to happen." It wasn't as if the professors were about to turn on them--that was preposterous. The problem was that, somehow, Isobel needed to convince the part of her subconscious that was still afraid that there was nothing to fear. "And I know you would punch someone for me." That brought a small smile to her face, as she was well aware from recent events that Wolfgang would go after pretty much anyone if he thought she was in danger, even though he clearly knew nothing about fistfights. Not that Isobel knew any better than him...
...but it meant that magic was the only thing they had.
"It's more the feeling of not having my wand there if I need it," Isobel said, her shoulders dropping once more. "I know nothing will happen, but it just feels all wrong."
She twisted her hands together as Wolfgang brought up the events of last year again, the guilt rising up. Every time someone mentioned it, she couldn't help but feel terrible, especially when Wolfgang pretended to joke about it. She knew that she'd hurt him badly, and sometimes she couldn't believe that he had still decided to stay with her after she'd essentially clawed at his face.
That was why her eyes went wide as he said he was forgiving her, that he already had forgiven her, and she shook her head, not quite believing it. "But that's exactly why I can't go. What if I do something like that again? Not having control of myself?" Always, always Isobel wanted to have control of herself, of how she reacted to things. Even going out after the werewolf for revenge had been meticulously planned. She didn't want to hurt someone who didn't deserve it again.
If Wolfgang had been burdened by the task of comforting anyone else, his patience would have run out a long time ago. There was nothing to fear at the ball, there were stringent measures put in place, and, unless someone had managed to smuggle explosives into Hogwarts, there was nothing that could happen that couldn't be prevented by the staff.
But this was Isobel, and Wolfgang couldn't get frustrated with her. Even if a small voice at the back of his head wanted him to. No, Isobel needed a gentle hand at a moment like this -- this was a matter of deep fear, not of some caprice.
When Isobel's eyes went wide and she shook her head, Wolfgang was just as surprised. She didn't want to go to the ball she had been preparing for all month simply because, theoretically, she could hurt him?
"I appreciate the sentiment, I do," he answered, caressing her cheeks and looking right into her avoidant eyes, "But... Are you going to run from every single event I invite you to in fear of hurting me? You realize that's...Not sustainable. You can't give into such fear, you have to live your life. And," a small, yet encouraging smile appeared on his face, "If this is how you act when you're not in control, it's just a signal to everyone around that you are not one to let yourself become a victim in their hands. When I'm out of control, I pass out, you've seen it!"
"I've an idea... You're reluctant to go to the ball, but I still want to dance with you," he said, removing his hands from her face and putting them on her waist, "How about we dance here? I'll provide the music, if you can tolerate off-key humming."
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all i really want is to be wonderful/people in this town, they can be so cruel
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Post by ISOBEL LINWOOD on Jun 14, 2020 15:44:22 GMT
the state of dreaming
"I... I suppose not, no." Isobel had not been expecting to have such a deep subconscious reaction--she'd spent all that time buying fabrics and making the costume, convinced that she'd need to be the star of the Great Hall. "I don't want to be afraid. I wish I wasn't." It was humiliating, really. If anyone knew that the reason she was in the dungeon instead of the dance was that she was afraid of being in a crowd without her wand... she'd never live that down. "I don't know what could change it, though. It's not something I even thought about--it just sort of happened. How do I make it--sustainable?" It was an odd phrasing, she thought, perhaps something that Muggles would say. She didn't really hear wizards talk much about being sustainable. It just wasn't how people spoke.
And then Wolfgang reminded her that she did really want to dance. She wasn't the best dancer, and she knew it--she'd been so afraid last year that Wolfgang would discover it. All her life she'd wanted to dance and never had the chance. Over the break, though, he'd practiced a few things with her, the simpler dances. Maybe someday they would tango again, but that would take a little more practice.
"Alright," she whispered, nodding her head and placing her hands on Wolfgang's shoulders. "You can sing something. I'm sure I wouldn't be any less off-key."
There wasn't a single soul in this world that Wolfgang would ever let his guard down around so much so that he'd willingly show how absolutely inept he was at anything concerning music. His humming was only kept somewhat in tune by the simple fact that he'd heard the melody a million times before -- The Flower Waltz had been his dance teacher's track of choice. He could at least keep the rhythm right, his hands on Isobel's waist as he gently guided her as they waltzed in the hall.
After a minute or so, when he was sure that Isobel had gotten the rythm and he didn't need to count anymore, he spoke up again.
"I suppose it is easy to forget that there are people who live without magic when you're a pureblood," he mused,"The only thing I can imagine that could help is if you learned Wandless Magic? I know it's no easy feat and you won't learn it overnight, but, perhaps that would ease your mind when you don't have your wand around you? Perhaps your uncle knows it? He seems like he would, though that's only my impression. Or maybe O'Connor?"
"I'd be willing to study with you and help you out, though I know I'm not much for martial magic, or martial anything, for that matter. But... If you need a study buddy, as the say, you've got me."
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all i really want is to be wonderful/people in this town, they can be so cruel
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Post by ISOBEL LINWOOD on Jun 25, 2020 17:21:21 GMT
the state of dreaming
Isobel let herself fall into the steps of the dance that Wolfgang had taught her, the spinning steps of the waltz coming much easier than the tango had been. Wolfgang was right; his humming wasn't exactly as in tune as an orchestra, but it was a melody she knew she'd heard before, all the same. She let her steps follow Wolfgang's, knowing her sense of rhythm had never been as good as she'd wanted it to be, but hoping she could keep up for however long they would dance. The dress swirled around her ankles as they turned, and while it didn't lift all of her mood, for a moment, Isobel felt as if she would even like an audience to watch them dance.
"It's a good idea," she murmured, looking up into Wolfgang's eyes. The professors always encouraged them to do non-verbal magic already; some of her classmates were working toward wandless magic too, she knew. But Isobel's best subject had always been Potions, not things like--Defense Against the Dark Arts. "I don't know if I'd be any good at it. I suppose I can ask one of the professors, though." And if Wolfgang, a Ravenclaw, could admit he would have trouble with it, too, perhaps it wasn't quite so embarrassing if she wasn't, either. She would ask, then, one of the professors in private.
She leaned a little closer into Wolfgang's chest, closing her eyes. "I'm really glad I have you, you know?" She had to open her eyes again quickly, feeling as if she might step on his feet at any moment, but she hoped the sentiment remained. "And I'm glad you taught me to waltz properly, too." That was accompanied with a small smile. She'd been trying to teach herself for years, but it was difficult with only herself in her room.
And so they danced in the hallway, torchlight flickering as their movements disturbed the air around them, one, two, three, four, their shoes clicking against the stone pavement, five, six, seven, eight, Wolfgang's humming getting a tad more chocked as he went on. His vocal cords weren't used to humming, not at all. But still, he kept on, clearing his throat once or twice in between Isobel's words.
He could feel a stinging pain - a very light one, yet pain - in his heart when Isobel stated that she didn't think she'd be successful at learning wandless magic. She hadn't even tried yet! At that moment Wolfgang decided -- if Isobel would shy away from asking a professor, he would do it himself. He wouldn't let the faltering of her self-esteem to get in the way of resolving a problem -- after all, the solution was right there. She just had to try.
Then she leaned in closer, and her words made Wolfgang's knees weak. Even after everything, she still wanted him around. She'd told him that before, and he wanted to believe it fully, without a doubt, but... There was some part of him that asked Why? After what you've found out, how? And so on and so forth, but he didn't want to ruin this moment with his own self-doubt. He knew that if he brought it up, that smile would be wiped away, and that would be a tragedy.
Instead, he stopped her from taking the next step in their waltz, and embraced her, running his hands up and down her back to soothe her.
"I've still plenty to teach you on the dance floor," he said, releasing Isobel from his embrace and taking her hand in his once more, "So, perhaps, we should go to the Ball and practice our waltz in a crowd?"
Isobel agreed with a nod, but it was an uneasy one. She still wasn't sure, she was still afraid. He reached into the inner pocket of his jacket and pulled out a metallic flask, handing it to Isobel.
"A few sips, not more. It's my medicine, it'll calm you down. Now, let us go and have that grand entrance..."
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1.75m (5'9")| Open relationship with ISOBEL LINWOOD | Bisexual | English
all i really want is to be wonderful/people in this town, they can be so cruel
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Post by ISOBEL LINWOOD on Jun 28, 2020 16:37:38 GMT
the state of dreaming
In the crowd. Of course that was the whole point of a dance, the crowd--all the people to meet, their outfits, their excitement. It was why Isobel had always enjoyed the idea, had always been excited whenever she got the rare chance to attend one. And yet this time it was the crowd that was making her nervous. She wanted to go, she did, because it was irrational, just like Wolfgang said...
"I suppose we should." She nodded, but it was stiff, the gentle swaying of her dance with Wolfgang stopping abruptly. Why was it so difficult to tell herself that the fear was unfounded?
Wolfgang offered her a small flask of liquid. My medicine, he said. At first, Isobel sniffed it, guessing that it was some sort of alcohol--liquid courage, she'd heard it called more than once. Certainly it could give her that, though it might make her limbs clumsier than she wanted if they were going to dance. But it didn't smell like that, instead more like the Potions classroom, and she raised the flask to her lips, taking a small sip to test it. It really was medicine, if not one that was familiar to her, and as such didn't taste particularly nice, but even the small amount seemed warm as it settled in her stomach.
"A calming potion?" she asked. Her muscles seemed to relax, and she stood up straighter, handing the flask back to Wolfgang and taking his other hand. "Alright. We'll try going--and if it's not good, we can make an exit and hang out somewhere."
