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!
Most of the students had gone home for the Christmas holidays. It saddened Charlotte a little because she was dead and stuck at Hogwarts. Hogwarts wasn't a particularly bad place to be stuck. She had always loved the school when she was a student but Lottie would much rather be home with her family, like the rest of the students.
At least maybe she could find a student to chat with that stayed behind. Lottie sighed as she noticed a Daily Prophet laying on the table in her common room, a certain headline catching her attention. Macmillian from Ravenclaw had been attacked by a werewolf in human form recently. It was the whole reason why no one was allowed in Hogsmeade at the moment, not that Lottie could go there anyway when she was a ghost and her place was here.
Either way it was sad news nonetheless and Lottie certainly hoped everything would work out. She ended up killed by a werewolf on the full moon right here on school grounds, so obviously any news regarding the werewolf situation sort of hit close to home for her. Floating away from the table Lottie left the common room. The dead Hufflepuff was floating through one of the corridors when she suddenly noticed a familiar face stumbling in a drunken fashion.
GREYSON AVERY (lol, not sure if they ever would put their differences aside but this was all I could come up with.)
School holidays, to put it real bloody frankly, sucked. Especially when he was forced to stay at Hogwarts because he wasn't 'trustworthy.' What did good ol' uncle and fam expect him to do? Burn down the sodding house? Nah, screw that. Too much time and effort. He just wanted to waste away in bed and get lit and bring a bazillion girls to his room without prefects bailing him up like having fun was committing some sort of crime.
Scowling at the thought of his buzzkill uncle and family, Greyson aimlessly stumbled about the halls, lifting the cold metal flask he clutched to his lips. The firewhiskey burned his throat as he swallowed, but he didn't give a shit. It felt good, painful in a way that was pleasurable to him as well. It made him feel alive.
Turning the corner, Greyson's eyes couldn't roll back any further when he saw who was floating there. "Oi, Charlotte!" he hollered out, moving forward to face his dead cousin who, for some reason, had decided to become a ghost. Who in their right freaking mind would want to do that? Stupid bint. "Tell me, Lottie. Doesn't it depress you? Floating around aimlessly day after day, like some... cloud?"
Lottie rolled her eyes as she heard her delinquint cousin calling after her. "Merlin, could you be any louder? I'm dead, not deaf." she replied. It wasn't that Charlotte didn't love her family, but Grey could be such a jerk most of the time. It made it difficult to enjoy being around him. The dead Hufflepuff rolled her eyes again as Greyson made a comment about her being a ghost. "Yes, I suppose it is rather depressing. Still there's nothing I can do about it now, can I?"
Lottie looked from Greyson to the bottle of firewhiskey in his hand. "you're not supposed to be drinking firewhiskey, you know. You're underage." she commented. She figured Grey probably heard that before but it was the truth. Charlotte couldn't help herself though. She'd been a prefect for awhile when she was still alive, and maybe it was a good thing she wasn't alive now to report Grey's drinking.
"Ohh, ghostie has claws, hey? Good luck trying to scratch me with them," Greyson said, snarkiness wrapping around each and every word that left his mouth. If she was going to be a bitch, she'd get him being a jerk right back. It worked both ways, yet he was always painted as the arsehole to everyone. "Couldn't you have decided to just rot in the ground instead of hang around a musty old castle all day? Sounds miserable."
When Lottie started berating him for drinking, Greyson's voice went all high pitched and his did his best imitation of her, "You're not supposed to be drinking that, Greyson. I didn't drink that when I was alive, Greyson. I was a wee ickle 'puff who never did a single thing wrong, Greyson. I was a perfect little angel the whole damn time." Boring. His cousin had never experienced even a glimmer of fun breaking the rules, too afraid of the consequences. Now she never would - she couldn't even float out the damn door. "Hate to break it to you, Lottie, but there's not a thing you can do to stop me."
