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!
he soft rythemnic ticking of a nearby clock lulled Harry farther into his unplanned nap. His feet were propped atop a precarious stack of files and his chair tipped back onto two legs. Beneath his clasped hands his chest rose and fell with each deep breath, the kina of breath that only comes from a deep slumber. He had only meant to close his eyes for a minute, the stress of the day driving him to the verge of a headache.
A loud ascending chime cut through the room as the clock struck the hour. Sitting bolt upright, Harry's chair met the floor with a dull clunk and his feet sent files flying as he scrambled to regain his balance. With the sixth and final chime he let out a loud curse. "Dammit! Why didn't anyone wake me," he called out to no one in particular as he got to his feet and collected his cloak from the rack beside the office door.
Dashing from the room he sprinted the length of the hall until he reached the lifts. What he wouldn't give to be able to apparate from his office. Standing cross armed, he waited impatiently for the old clunk of metal to come to a stop at the atrium level. As soon as the doors rattled open he took of to the nearest exit, apparating as soon as he was in the clear.
Icy air and drizzling rain cut through his thick cloak, forcing him to bury his hands deep into the lined pockets seeking their warmth. Instead he found a crumpled piece of parchment, but he didn't need to look at it to know what it was. The letter Deputy Headmaster O'Conner had sent him was still fresh on his mind and the anger it caused had yet to subside. Perhaps going into this meeting with a burning fury wasn't the best way to handle things, but Harry had never been known for thinking things through.
Hogwarts loomed in the distance, but instead of taking the familiar path towards the iron gates Harry turned and headed down the narrow street. Ducking his head against the howling wind that was now splattering his face with icy shards, the man quickly found the entrance to the Three Broomsticks and hurried inside.
The warmth of a blazing fire washed over him and the smell of baking bread and brewed beers set his stomach growling. A drawn out trial had caused him to miss lunch, and now he could feel the emptiness growing inside him. However, he was not there to eat. With any luck this meeting would only last a few minutes and he would be home in time for supper.
Glancing to the watch on his left wrist he realized he was ten minutes late. He immediately stepped out of the doorway and began to scan the room for any sight of Mr. O'Connor
Post by JACK O'CONNOR on Jul 19, 2019 12:00:29 GMT
Harry Potter was late and quite frankly, it put a bad taste in Jack's mouth. Perhaps the man couldn't find time in his busy schedule to actually come and meet him face to face... in fact, maybe Mr. Potter never intended to actually show at all, leaving Jack sitting there like a wife whose husband forgot about their anniversary. Except there was one difference - Jack wouldn't be racing home, upset. No, instead if the man didn't show then he'd march himself straight over to the Ministry and demand to talk to him. Social status, the fact that Harry Potter was a 'celebrity', didn't intimidate Jack, and he wished anyone intending to stop him from talking to the older man the best of luck.
Glancing over to the clock above the roaring fireplace once more, Jack's brows raised as he saw the long clock hand had struck 'I,' signalling it was five past one o'clock now. He'd only give Mr. Potter ten more minutes to make his arrival before he got up and carried out his plan of storming into the Ministry.
The sound of a mug being placed on the table made Jack glance up, shooting a warm smile to the familiar face of the server whom he bought coffee off quite regularly. Perks of being so close to Hogsmeade, he supposed. "Thank you, Guinevere," he said, his fingers instantly becoming warm as they wrapped around the mug of steaming hot coffee. Inhaling deeply, he let the smell rush over him because to him, nothing smelt quite as good as a mug of freshly made coffee. It made him feel awake, ready to tackle any task at hand, no matter how daunting it was to him.
Jack had only just raised the mug to his lips and taken another glance up at the clock when suddenly, a figure standing just inside The Three Broomstick's had him smiling politely. "Mr. Potter," he said, waving the man over. "Now, I offered to buy you a drink. What suits you best? Butterbeer, a firewhiskey?" He wasn't sure what took the man's fancy and given his rather... aggressive tactics to get Mr. Potter to even agree to his suggestion of meeting up, there was a good chance he'd end up wearing said drink in a few minutes if it was thrown at him.
6'0". IRISH. BIG HEART. LOYAL. BRAVE. WORKAHOLIC. BISEXUAL. SINGLE. distinguishing features: a big scar runs across jack's left cheek credit for award goes to ollie! <3
canning the tap room again, Harry caught sight of a raised hand beckoning him over. Clenching his teeth, he fixed a smile upon his stiff face and made his way through the narrow rows of tables. He made a point to take several deep breaths before reaching the table where the Deputy Headmaster sat, trying to cool his flaring temper that had reignited. He found his attempts futile.
"Professor O'Connor," Harry said his voice surprisingly calm given his current mood. "Sorry I'm late. It's been a hectic day..." He bit the rest of his sentence off abruptly. Given the subject of their meeting, he thought it best not to mention the ministry quite so soon.
Shrugging his arms out of his cloak, the man hung it neatly over the back of his chair before sitting down. He repressed the urge to glance over his shoulder as the tinkling of a bell signaled the opening of the pub door. "Er.. I'll take a firewhiskey," he replied, trying to return his focus back to the man sitting across from him.
Pulling the crumpled parchment from his pocket, Harry placed it on the wooden tabletop, a finger keeping it pinned tightly. Try as he might he couldn't keep the look of aggravation from darkening his face as his jaw set to the side. "I hate to jump straight to business Professor, but I'd rather clear the air quickly." Harry's tone was even but inside he was screaming. He leaned forward slightly in his chair, trying to keep his voice low. "If anyone in the ministry understands your frustrations, it would be me. Then to get this," his finger tapped the letter roughly, emerald eyes narrowing slightly behind his round glasses. "Let's just say I was more than a little taken aback by your nerve."
Post by JACK O'CONNOR on Jul 22, 2019 11:11:49 GMT
When Mr. Potter made his way over, Jack's eyes scanned over the man, taking in the man's appearance. He'd been caught in the rain, it seemed like, and his signature glasses sat perched on his nose. He was wearing a smile too, that didn't quite meet his eyes. Given the circumstances in which he'd gotten the man to come and meet him, he wasn't surprised. "There's no apology needed," he said, shaking off the other man's excuses for being late.
Flagging down a waiter, Jack calmly ordered Mr. Potter a firewhiskey, before suddenly the other man wanted to 'jump straight to business,' his finger holding down the very letter Jack had sent him. Was Jack proud of the letter? Of seeing the words he'd scratched down on the parchment? Not particularly, but there had been a reason why he'd so carefully chosen the words he'd written out for his direct correspondence with Mr. Potter. "I believe a muffliato charm would be useful right about now," he said, making quick work of casting it. As usual, he did so wordlessly and without touching the wand he carried in his pocket. Then he took a leaf from Mr. Potter's book, cutting straight to the point.
"Was that letter abrupt, Mr. Potter? Yes, it was. Perhaps I shouldn't have dragged your family into this, but... I have been sending letters for months - hell, for years. I have sources in your department that say these letters go unanswered or, in some cases, end up being burned. I knew that going into the Ministry, demanding to speak directly to you, would achieve zilch. You'd floo out of there in a heartbeat. So I provoked you instead... and you're here, aren't you?" he said, his steel grey eyes dragging over Mr. Potter, observing the anger that seemed to be rising in the man. "I'm not going to apologise for my nerve, for standing up in what I believe in just like you did once upon a time. What I will apologise for is dragging Teddy into this, but I had to get you to listen and to hear my... frustrations in person."
6'0". IRISH. BIG HEART. LOYAL. BRAVE. WORKAHOLIC. BISEXUAL. SINGLE. distinguishing features: a big scar runs across jack's left cheek credit for award goes to ollie! <3
arry smiled graciously at the waiter as the small drink was set down before him. With the tinkle of ice against glass, Harry lifted the amber liquid to his lips and took a small sip. Fire trailed the drink down his esophagus, burning a path to his stomach as it chased away any remaining chill that had seeped into his bones from the December air. Exhaling a small aaahh, he replaced the glass back onto the wooden table top while surveying Jack. He played idly with the water droplets that had collected along the cool cups sides, thankful for something to occupy his hands from strangling the man across from him.
Leaning back in his chair, he reached his wet fingertips up to reposition his glasses. Sirius had once told him that a crowded pub was the ideal place for a conversation you didn't want overheard. However, he was no longer some ordinary teenager; the head Auror and Deputy Headmaster of Hogwarts were likely to draw attention no matter the setting. Sure enough, from the corner of his eye he could see heads turning in their direction, eager ears perked for any information they could gain from their conversation.
"Abrupt?" Harry asked with a humorless laugh, his eyebrows arching dramatically. "No professor, your letter was downright accusatory." His sentence was cold and pointedly short. He didn't mind letters that accused him of being wrong, hell he got those every day, but ones that accused him of being a bad parent, or in this case godfather; those he took offense to.
"My department does not burn letters, but in some cases no answer is better than sending some bullshit response the Ministry deems fit," he said exasperatedly, hands returning to his glass. "But your right, I would have done anything to escape a meeting at my office, though not for the reasons you're thinking." The Ministry's ideas on current affairs did not reflect Harry's, though he knew all to well what going against them would lead to.
"You're lucky I didn't strangle you upon sight," he said, but the corner of his mouth pulled slightly upwards. He couldn't fault the man for being rash, after all he knew what it was like to have your concerns go unanswered. Sighing, he dropped his head back, shaking it from side to side slightly. " I think you've got the wrong impression of me, Jack."
Post by JACK O'CONNOR on Jul 31, 2019 10:37:06 GMT
Mr. Potter's reply to his words was a laugh without warmth followed with words that were as cold as the ice cubes the man had floating in his drink and again, Jack couldn't blame him for that. It was the logical response, after all. "I apologise. I know that during his time at Hogwarts, he spoke quite highly of you. It just does not make sense to me why the Head Auror would enforce such laws that oppress people like your godson and other werewolves. Surely it goes against everything you believe in, especially given your relationships with other werewolves. I know you were well-acquainted with Remus Lupin as well when he was alive," Jack said. He had quite fond memories of Remus Lupin when he taught at Hogwarts, in the very same position as Jack taught now. He wondered if back then, the children were as challenging as they could be now.
Jack's brows raised skeptically as Mr. Potter replied his department didn't burn letters. "Well, the orders to burn my letters must be coming from somebody else because I know one particular auror who's been told to," Jack replied calmly, although he didn't name names. He had no interest in 'dobbing' on Richard Linwood like some kindergarten student. No doubt as a trainee auror, the man probably caught quite a bit of flack already. Jack's suspicions about Mr. Potter fleeing, however, were confirmed as the other man confessed he would have 'done anything to escape a meeting.' But the tail-end of his sentence had Jack considering him carefully, eyes studying the other man's face. But there were no clues " written across it. "What reasons would those be then?"
"I lived through the Carrows and fought at the Battle of Hogwarts. Strangling wouldn't be the worst thing I've endured by a long shot," Jack said, fingers gesturing to the scar across his cheek. It was a constant reminder of the war he'd help to fight, although... his cheek wasn't nearly as ghastly as his back, littered in scars thanks to the monstrous brother and sister who'd terrorised the castle in his sixth years... who'd given him nightmares of their torture for years after the fact. A sigh had Jack glancing up at Mr. Potter again, watching as the man shook his head. "I think you've got the wrong impression of me too, Harry. I... can understand why, as that's mostly my fault. But I'd like to get the right impression, if that's a possibility at this stage."
6'0". IRISH. BIG HEART. LOYAL. BRAVE. WORKAHOLIC. BISEXUAL. SINGLE. distinguishing features: a big scar runs across jack's left cheek credit for award goes to ollie! <3