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!
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 Jul 3, 2019 15:49:14 GMT
Isobel had been taking her winter outfits out of her trunk, hanging them on the posts of her bed to air out and remove the wrinkles, when she found an unfamiliar piece of fabric tucked next to a pair of stockings--not even folded. She pulled it out of the trunk, shaking it out, and studied it. It seemed to be clean, but not exactly familiar. Pink, a color she rarely wore because of her hair, and not at all cut to fit her. Too broad in the shoulders and waist; she would never wear something like that unless she was trying to look artfully messy. There was no way it could be hers, and it didn't look like any of her roommates' either, but how had it gotten here?
And then she remembered.
She remembered how she had tried to toss this very shirt in the fire with a mischievous grin on her face, only to miss it, sending it to the dusty floor of an old unused room, as she was more occupied with kissing a certain Wolfgang Kallenbach than with her shirt-throwing accuracy. Well, she had never been a Quidditch player. She didn't remember exactly why she had picked it up instead of giving it back, but at least she did remember using a cleaning spell on it sometime that night. No matter what, her mind had still reminded her to be careful with clothes.
Looking around to see if any of her roommates were there, she was glad to see that she was alone. Then she could fold and pack up the shirt nicely without any questions of just whose it was. Forming it into a neat square and patting out what wrinkles she could, she slipped it into her backpack. The last of her sweaters hung up around her bed, she tossed the bag over her shoulder and made her way up out of the dungeons, one goal in mind: find Wolfgang and return his shirt. She would be very upset if her clothes had been taken, she reasoned, and she didn't want people to think she was one of those girls who kept boys' shirts just to show off how attached she was. She walked through a few of the corridors, trying to remember where he might be, and realizing that she didn't know quite enough about him to say where he hung out most often. Sighing, she made her way to the entrance hall, about to try looking out on the grounds, even if there was already snow everywhere.
Post by WOLFGANG KALLENBACH on Jul 4, 2019 13:22:08 GMT
This particular December day had brought snow and rain, sending down an unpleasant sludge on anyone who was unfortunate enough to have to be outdoors. Wolfgang Kallenbach was one of those unfortunate souls since the captain of Ravenclaw's Quidditch team didn't give a hippogriffs fart about the weather.
Instead of being neatly groomed and stylishly dressed, Wolfgang was drenched, cold and every kind of discontent as he trudged through the sludge on the ground towards the Entrance Hall. 'All this practice better be worth it.' he thought and sneezed into the sleeve of his soggy Quidditch uniform. Gross. What he wouldn't give for a steaming mug of coffee and a soft sweater... First, he had to get up to the Common Room. All the way up to the tower. For a moment he wished he would have brought his broom so he could just fly up in a matter of seconds, but that was forbidden with at least 3 different rules, and he didn't feel like dragging his name through metaphorical mud -- the soil of the Quidditch pitch was enough as is.
He pushed open the Entrance Hall door and immediately spotted a rather familiar figure. Red hair was visible a mile away, but this was a special specimen.
Isobel. A strange warmth started pooling in his stomach as he looked at her. She seemed to be looking for something or someone, and Wolfgang couldn't help but to wonder who it was.
She was a strange case. He'd been making out with someone else every other day ever since he'd encountered her for the first time. He didn't make a habit seeing anyone twice, denying advances of anyone he'd already snogged, except...Isobel. He could count at least 3 more times they had at least made out in a secluded corner after escaping from another party, and they were always drunk. Perhaps there wasn't much to it, and she just was at the same place at the same time and each of those times Wolfgang might have been too drunk to restrain himself. And yet...
Perhaps there was something more to her? Wolfgang wouldn't be Wolfgang if he didn't try to find out. He let a hand through his wet hair, trying to tame it and approached Isobel.
"Pardon me," he began, lightly tapping her on the shoulder. "Can I be of assistance? You look a bit lost."
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 Jul 4, 2019 16:20:06 GMT
"Ah!" Isobel gave a tiny jump at the tap on her shoulder, but her surprise was quickly replaced by a smile when she saw exactly who she was looking for. Wolfgang had found himself for her, though he looked the worse for wear, his robes soaked through from what must have been the sleet outside. It reminded her a little of when he'd been wet from having beer spilled all over his shirt, and the memory of that night made her chest heat up, especially as she remembered that she had that very shirt in her bag at the moment. There had been a few other nights since then as well, in the weekends between then and now, but it was hard to forget the "wet T-shirt contest" of which he had been the only contestant. Clearly, she thought as she observed his Quidditch robes, throwing the Quaffle so often had gotten him some muscles.
"I was just looking for you. I had something to give you, but..." she trailed off for a moment as she looked him over, "...maybe I should bring it to Ravenclaw Tower for you? I already cleaned it, I wouldn't want it to get wet again." She reached into her bag, taking out the folded shirt and holding it out for him to see. There was no way he could carry the shirt without getting it just as soggy as he was, unless he was going to hold it out two feet in front of him the whole way there. Isobel was glad she was not a Quidditch player; she would be incredibly miserable if anyone tried to make her go out in this weather without an Impervius-Charmed raincoat, much less fly through the air.
"Were you out at Quidditch practice?" she asked. Even though she knew the answer was obvious, it seemed polite. She didn't want to make him think she was stalking him, because she wasn't; everyone with any sense of House pride went to the Quidditch games. Slytherin seemed pretty good this year, from what Isobel had heard, but she felt some curiosity to see what Ravenclaw would bring. She tucked the shirt back in her bag, waiting to see if Wolfgang was heading up to the tower. She had never been inside the other House's tower, but she did know where it was. It would be easy to go along with him.
Post by WOLFGANG KALLENBACH on Jul 4, 2019 16:52:45 GMT
His wet fingers touching Isobel's skin made the girl jump in the least dignified way, which elicited a snicker out of him. As she turned around to face him, he took a slow step back, trying to make sure he wasn't splashing around water like a wet dog... Though he probably smelled like one.
He responded to her smile with a polite nod and was ready to put on a playful smirk, as was accustomed during their meetings, when she said that she was looking for him.
"And what has my humble person done to deserve such attention?" He asked as he tilted his head to the side and his eyebrows went up. He watched her hands enter her bag and pull out his pink shirt. The same one he had worn the first night they met, the same one that had been stained, the same one she had taken off of him with shaking fingers...
"Ah," he sighed out as his thoughts rushed back to that night. She didn't just give it back to him, she was willing to spend at least ten minutes walking up stairs just to keep it clean. Interesting.
"You're too kind, Isobel. Are you sure you want to be seen with me, when I'm, well," he motioned at his soaked outfit, "Not exactly presentable." Truth be told, he looked downright awful and he hated every second he had to stay in these soaked rags. He needed a hot shower and a dry change of clothes like he needed air. "But if you insist, let us go before I've gotten sick in this draft."
The question about Quidditch practice seemed downright daft, but it was a way to initiate a conversation. In Isobel's defense, how do you start a conversation with someone you've been snogging without even knowing their last name?
"Yes, unfortunately for me." He sighed, making his way up the stairs towards the Grand Staircase. He looked back at her with a playful smile, before continuing. "And if all goes as planned, unfortunately for you and your whole house, too."
"How interested in Quidditch are you? You don't look the kind that plays. Then again I just play to keep myself in shape, the life of a famous player doesn't sound appealing to me. I know, it's surprising."
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 Jul 4, 2019 18:21:20 GMT
"Oh, no, I've never played." Isobel shook her head as she followed Wolfgang up the staircase. "I don't think I'd be very good at it. I just like watching the games." She was proud of being a Slytherin, and would never go to a game without her green-and-silver scarf wrapped around her neck. It was, like many of the wool items she owned, made of the farm's wool, but her mother had mixed some metallic threads in, and Isobel loved how the silver sparkled. "I like the competition and excitement. So, for that, I think I should say that you and your House should be worried." With that, she grinned, showing him there was no ill will behind her words.
It was true that she had never played, even though she'd grown up in a pureblood family with broomsticks all around. Maybe if she would have gotten along with her sisters better, they could've had some of those pickup games she heard others talk about, at the very least tossing a Quaffle to each other. But knowing her family, she was pretty sure Mia-Rose would have released a Bludger just to hit it at her. Why hadn't the girl ever tried out as a Beater? Isobel was sure her sister would take great joy in attacking everyone on the pitch.
She, on the other hand, would have been a Chaser if she liked sports enough to try out for the team. And wouldn't that be fun--one night making out with Wolfgang, the next day having to play against him, wondering how much she distracted him. She liked that thought. Now it was only to figure out how to get that feeling without having to get on a broomstick.
"Don't want to be a pro, though?" she asked, a little surprised. It seemed like half the House teams wanted that. After all, it also seemed like everyone adored all the players on their favorite professional team. Even Chudley Cannons fans were incredibly dedicated! Isobel could only wish for people to follow fashion like that--she sometimes felt like she was the best subscriber to the handful of wizarding fashion magazines in the world. Now she was curious about what Wolfgang meant. "Got an even bigger dream in mind?"
Post by WOLFGANG KALLENBACH on Jul 4, 2019 18:49:03 GMT
"Should we be worried that you'll flirt me off the broom?" He teased her as they walked up the stairs. "Perhaps intend to slip me a love potion? Although that-" wouldn't be necessary. His eyes went wide when he registered the sentence that had almost left his mouth. He'd almost said that she had the same effects as a love potion on him. Holy shit. Holy shit. Wolfgang felt the terrible urge to put his hands on his cheeks and forehead and check his temperature.
This inner turmoil was shown outward by him stumbling over a few steps of the stairs. A string of curses left his mouth as he steadied himself. "Apologies, I'm not quite myself after being out in this weather." He stated and tried to brush off his clothes, which was a rather pointless move, considering how wet they were.
Steady, Wolfgang. One stray thought doesn't mean anything. You were up late listening to your housemates go on and on about girls and romantic nonsense.
A few seconds later he'd regained his composure, his back straight, his sleeves pulled back and an inviting smile on his lips. He waited for Isobel to catch up with him before jumping back into the conversation.
"I prefer to stay out of the spotlight, unless it benefits me. I think I'd be good at trading information... Can you imagine me as a secret agent? Romantic, isn't it?" he mused about it. Memories of sneaking to Hogsmeade in the dead of night to meet up with a desperate werewolf to give him a pouch of money so he'd bite his father's ass floated in Wolfgang's head, making his expression harden. He knew he'd be good at trading info. He'd coerced Ministry employees to release information pertaining to his father's whereabouts, he'd blackmailed and lied to get his way. All at the age of 15. But Isobel didn't need to know that. No, she would have to do with a silly thought about Wolfgang being a spy or, in the worst case, a tabloid reporter.
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 Jul 6, 2019 17:36:33 GMT
Flirting from the Quidditch stands! Now that sounded amusing, though Isobel was fairly sure that, at the speeds the players went, it would be too hard to pick out any one person in the stands. She always had to figure out who was who by their numbers and the color of their hair: the Slytherin Seeker was very blonde, the Hufflepuff one was a redhead. Wolfgang would only spot her if he flew right next to her. She would have to use magic if she wanted to flirt that way, which she knew was a good way to lose Slytherin points and get herself barred from future games. But then, she thought, with the all the kisses and more they'd already shared, there were plenty of other locations to flirt besides a Quidditch game.
"Do I really need a love potion if we're already clearly attracted?" There was a little mischief sparkling in her gray eyes as she willed him to remember all that she recalled from those evenings. It was true, they didn't need any potions, or at least they hadn't needed any before. After all, her mother was a potion maker and had taught her the truth about those powerful elixirs: love potions created attraction, not real love. Isobel never had the urge to use them; she thought it far better to find someone who actually appreciated the effort she put into her appearance. What was the point in tricking anyone to think she was beautiful, when she could simply be beautiful?
The image of Wolfgang in a sleek black suit and sunglasses came to her mind as he began to talk about his ambitions, startling Isobel with a flash of heat in her chest that made her have to swallow hard before speaking again. Really, how had they never hooked up before this year? If only he'd been in her own House, that would have improved her school years very much...
But would she really have wanted that? Isobel had never had a steady boyfriend before; she far preferred to keep it casual while she was still in school, with all the time in the world to adventure.
She shook her head, trying to clear it of the thoughts. "You'd be like--what's the Muggle movie? The one with the suits and fancy cars?" Isobel had never seen a Muggle movie, but she knew of the image of a certain secret agent, and she knew she'd love to see Wolfgang looking like that.
Post by WOLFGANG KALLENBACH on Jul 14, 2019 6:06:38 GMT
"Touche." he muttered in response to Isobel's comment about love potion. If there was anything they had in common, it was the physical attraction that sparked every time they met. It was definitely there when they were drunk, and judging by the mishaps of his tongue and the twinkle in her eyes, it was there when they were sober.
They'd made it about a third of the way to the tower when Wolfgang spoke about his future plans, and to his surprise, Isobel seemed to be at least mildly interested. He saw a blush creep up to her cheeks as he mentioned being a secret agent.
"Oh, Men in Black? Yeah, something of the sort." he chuckled. He had time and time again proved that he looked great in a suit, though field work would probably be a lot less glamorous.
"I just wish wizards had nice suits. I grow tired of these...bed sheets they call robes, and all the expensive ones I've seen look like someone has skinned a Baroque couch. There is no finesse to wizard fashion!" Wolfgang complained. Wizard outfit stores made both his eyes and his head hurt from the sheer ugliness of everything presented. Why did nobody in the wizarding world care for simple, uncomplicated elegance?
"Why are all wizard clothes like that? Why do you like to hide your figures underneath curtains? What's the point of doing Quidditch if my frame is burried underneath ten sets of curtains?"
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 Jul 17, 2019 2:57:47 GMT
Men in Black! That's what the movie must be. Isobel had to admit that she was intrigued by the idea of a movie, although she thought that there must be a way to do it with magic instead of all the electricity that Muggles used. There was one thing, though, that she did want to take inspiration from Muggles, and Wolfgang had somehow hit right on it without her mentioning anything. Well, without her mentioning anything except suits. But who wouldn't appreciate a well-tailored suit? Isobel was a dressmaker, not a tailor, and she still knew just what to appreciate about them. Or, about the men who wore them.
Hey, she was allowed to appreciate a well-dressed man. Even if the boy in front of her wasn't particularly well-dressed at the moment. She knew he did do better.
"It's true, though, isn't it?" she said, her voice becoming immediately more animated. "There's no design at all to the usual robes. You could take someone with a perfect figure and still make them look like a bedsheet ghost in these uniforms." Isobel was always practically the first to change out of uniform after classes were over each day. Everything she owned was not just more fashionable, but more comfortable--even if she did have to admit that the coziness of much of her winter wear came from the wool it was made of. She was just glad that nobody really enforced their wearing of the pointed hat they had all been forced to buy in their first year. "I make a lot of my own clothes, but it's not like they would let me wear them as a uniform. At least it's good practice if I am going to be a designer someday."
She glanced over at Wolfgang's still-dripping Quidditch uniform, thinking it must be very heavy besides being uncomfortably wet. With their games always played rain or shine, why did they wear robes like that? For the wind chill when they flew fast? "I'm sure you want to get out of those robes as soon as possible." And, well, if he wanted to add additional meaning behind those words, she would be happy to let him.
Post by WOLFGANG KALLENBACH on Jul 17, 2019 13:17:09 GMT
It was clear to see that Wolfgang's complaints about wizard fashion had finally found an attentive ear, as Isobel answered just as fervently as he had damned the clothing. All the talk about it reminded him that he was wearing a soggy Quidditch outfit. Blue was supposed to look good on him! Alas, right now it sure didn't. He was sure that there was a stench coming from him and Isobel was just too polite to tell it to his face.
He didn't have to wait long to find out why she was so passionate about the subject -- to be fair, by now everyone should have noticed that wizard clothing is a crime against humanity -- she wanted to be a designer. Not just wanted, she was working towards it. Goal driven, ambitious and with an impeccable sense of style? My, my, my... She was quite the catch.
"Well, if you ever need a male model, you know where to find me. But, please, only suits and shirts, and the like. I think you'd look a lot more dashing in dresses and skirts than I ever will." he said, smirking, though almost immediately he realized that he had given her the utmost ridiculous and shameful mental image of himself.
"Oh, indeed I do." he agreed, pulling up his soaked sleeves. The smirk from his face hadn't disappeared and it only grew more prevalent with this thinly veiled attempt to initiate flirting. "I'm also sure that you would love to undress me before I shower. Alas," an melodramatic sigh escaped his lips as he looked back at her, "I don't think I can let you in my common room."
"No, we shall have to skip our usual routine today. I do feel a bit too sore and disgusting after practice, and I've still some homework to attend to." It was true, yet another Herbology essay awaited on his nightstand and, while making out with the attractive redhead would have been marvelous, he had his priorities sorted out.
"You mentioned you make your own clothes. Was that blue dress, you know..." The one I took off of you a few weeks back in a forgotten room in the dungeons. "Did you make that?"
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 Jul 20, 2019 3:56:49 GMT
"Maybe when you're being a secret agent, you can be a male model as your day job." Secret agents worked at night, right? Everything was much more secret under cover of darkness. Plus, a black suit looked much more fitting during the evening than in broad daylight. Although Isobel was certain she wouldn't mind a suit at any time of day. Maybe she should have learned to make men's clothing. "I've never made menswear, but maybe I could branch out. Would need someone to practice on, though." There was a little bit of mischief in her eyes as she made the next suggestion. "Someone to draw the figure of, you know? I'm so used to my own proportions." Since so many of Isobel's designs were made for herself, so many of her fashion drawings were just stylized versions of her own self.
"I make almost all of my dresses nowadays, yeah. The blue dress is one of my favorites. I always think I look good in blue, I think it's my favorite color. Maybe I should've been a Ravenclaw, but I think green suits me almost as well, don't you think?" Slytherin House certainly suited Isobel far better than any of the others, and besides the wish that she and Wolfgang had shared a House, she certainly agreed with the Sorting Hat's judgement. Both her parents had been Gryffindors, but she would have been miserable in the House that she considered brash, loud, and annoying.
She would have loved to follow Wolfgang into the Ravenclaw common room with the sort of invitation he seemed to be starting to give, but she understood that it would be frowned upon. If she'd brought him into her own dormitory, she was sure at least one of her roommates would report her in a heartbeat. They'd have to organize another time to meet up--and really, was she that intent on sleeping with him again?
The truth was that she did want it. Even when he was a wet mess of blue robes.
Post by WOLFGANG KALLENBACH on Jul 24, 2019 17:06:46 GMT
He listened to Isobel talk and he found himself staring at her lips, but rather than only considering the way they moved and formed vowels, Wolfgang found himself genuinely listening to the girl's words. When she mentioned practicing on someone, he couldn't help but to smirk and sharply exhale from his nose, amused.
"Modeling wouldn't be a bad gig," he said, looking straight at her, "especially underwear modeling. If you wish to practice drawing the male anatomy," he gestured at himself with a broad hand movement,"I'd be happy to volunteer...For a price."
Those last words echoed through the empty corridor they'd arrived after finally making it up the stairs. There were still quite a few passages and hallways they had to go through, before Wolfgang would be able to get himself cleaned up, but he wasn't in a hurry.
"It would have been lovely if you were in Ravenclaw," he said, falling silent for a moment. Yes, it would have indeed made school life more fun, but then again, would she be the same person she was now?
"But it is well known that dark green fits best with your complexion. I do think you'd look absolutely magical in a dark green cloak and," Wolfgang indulged himself in the mental image that was floating in front of his eyes. Isobel, wearing thigh high leather boots, skin tight pants, a lace blouse, all black and then a dark green cloak to top it all off... She would look like a woman he'd love to lose to in a duel, so he could fall on his knees, and she'd lift his chin up with his fingers-- no, a sword, a sword would be better--
His face turned red and he let out a short cough, trying to ignore the heat that was pooling at the bottom of his stomach.
"And whatever else you chose to wear it with. Personally, I prefer blue and purple for myself. Though a vivid red would probably not look out of place."
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 Jul 27, 2019 2:56:11 GMT
At the top of the stairs, as Wolfgang suggested himself as an underwear model, Isobel had to stop still on the landing, her eyebrows raised. "I didn't say I was going to design underwear. But if that's what your mind is jumping to, perhaps I'll need to. Unless you're planning on becoming a nude model for figure drawing. I wouldn't be able to design much for that." She smirked, her arms crossing across her chest. Funny how simply returning a shirt had brought them right back to flirting. It was like they couldn't stop themselves when they were around each other. Strange, as Isobel usually liked to have control of herself in conversations, but she had to admit that it was fun. And the more she heard the touch of German accent in his voice, the more she liked it.
"So what kind of price were you thinking?" she asked, starting to walk again. "Based on this shirt of yours, I assume you're not hurting for Galleons." It was a risky assumption to make, considering how sensitive many people were about their family's status (or lack of it), but she'd held the fabric in her hands, and she knew fabric. "But everybody wants something, and I'm sure you're no exception." Isobel, for the record, was most interested in making connections in Europe. On the farm there was absolutely nobody to show her designs to, and when the whole point of design was for people to see it, that was completely useless. She was sure Wolfgang had his own interests as well, even if it might be only sleeping with her again.
She nodded while he started to discuss colors, at least appearing to have good taste in that. "Green is a good color for me as well, you're right. Of course, we all have to have black cloaks for school. Otherwise I'd be wearing a green one." She scanned her eyes over Wolfgang's body, considering what he'd said about his own favorites. "Blue is good for you--you could say we got sorted based on colors! But I think dark red would be good for you, too, at least in winter. Would make a nice contrast with your hair and skin."
Post by WOLFGANG KALLENBACH on Jul 27, 2019 13:46:38 GMT
When Isobel stopped abruptly and crossed her arms on her chest at the mention of underwear modeling, Wolfgang wanted to laugh. If he didn't know her at all, he would have expected a dramatic 'How dare you insinuate such a thing!', but instead he was met with a confident smirk and a bold answer, which included nude modeling.
"Nude modeling? A rather enticing thought, indeed." he answered, briefly winking and continuing their way to the Common room. His back straightened upon hearing that Isobel thought he looked expensive. Bingo. Truth be told, he wasn't struggling to get by, but it was always nice to know that his efforts to keep up his image were paying off.
"No, not money. I was thinking if something more," he licked his lips, briefly scrunching up his nose when he realized they were chapped due to the weather, "physical." A deliberate pause.
"Perhaps you could do a portrait of me, for me? So I have something to remember you by when we inevitably part our ways upon graduation." A sentimental keepsake or something to stroke his own ego to? Maybe both. "Do you do only pencil sketches or do you do oil paintings too, by any chance?"
He agreed with Isobel's suggestion about the pallete he should be wearing. He hadn't considered maroon or crimson, but the next time he went shopping, he'd have to try on a shirt or two to see, if the aspiring designer was right.
And so they had reached the Raveclaw tower. The door was just up the spiral staircase, ready to ask him another riddle, so he stopped at the first step, turned to Isobel, took her hand and kissed it.
"Thank you for the shirt and the company. I hope I didn't stink like a dog the whole way through, because that would be terribly embarrassing." He said, offering her a polite smile. "And if you decide you want to try designing menswear, send me an owl, I'm sure we can arrange something between all the schoolwork and the Quidditch."
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Post by ISOBEL LINWOOD on Jul 30, 2019 1:44:16 GMT
A portrait. An interesting thought, that. To remember her by? "Shouldn't that be a portrait of me, so you can recall my face?" Isobel said, amused at the thought of Wolfgang staring at his own face to remember her. "But I could, I suppose. I usually do pencil drawings, but I can do other things--I could do it in charcoal, or in oil pastels if you wanted." She left out the bit about oil paintings, not wanting to admit to him that she'd never had the chance to learn how. Painting was something she did on her own, as learning experiments; she'd never been able to take a proper class for it before, so it wasn't her best. She didn't want to give anyone something that wasn't her best work, much less him.
For him specifically? Yes, because she didn't want to be humiliated for bad art, that was why. She would've had the same worries painting for anyone... right?
"Though I do hope you intend to be clothed in this portrait, even if I wouldn't mind a chance to look at you more thoroughly." There. Subject of her thoughts changed to something more familiar, even if it was a very heated kind of familiar, with how her body reacted to the thought of studying Wolfgang's form more closely.
They arrived outside Ravenclaw's common room before she could say any more, with its painting door just up a few more stairs. Isobel glanced at it, a touch curious of what would happen if she entered--she had never been in another House's room--but knew that she would have to go back to her own dormitories instead. She felt her hand being picked up, turning back to look at Wolfgang right as his lips brushed the back of it.
She smiled, enjoying the one kiss he had been able to give her that day. "Ah, and I should probably give you the shirt after all," she said, sliding her bag off her shoulder to take out the clean shirt and put it in his hand. "I hope I'll see you wearing it without a stain sometime." And, putting her bag back on, she had one more thing to say before she returned to the dungeons. "Write me an owl any time."
