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!
Everything was bloody terrible. Rodrik was dragging himself along the streets of Hogsmeade, paying no mind to the wonderful gradients painted across the trees. In fact, the vivid colors annoyed him. It felt like nature itself was mocking him, bringing what was essentially death, with such vigor and joy, while his grief was dripping sorrow like an inkwell that some careless sod had knocked over.
Why was he even going to Hogsmeade? Not that there was much point from seeing Damian. He'd probably talk Rodrik's ear off about his usual financial troubles -- as if Rodrik wasn't well aware that everyone in this family could barely scrounge up more than a handful of lint from the bottom of their wallet.
The boy pushed open the door to the Hogs Head, wincing at the tinkling of the door bell. Why was that necessary? What happened to being able to go places quietly, without attracting attention? And this place... The inn was practically sparkling with how clean and bright it was. So much for trying to cower in the darkest corner behind a large mug of butter beer and hope nobody besides his brother approached him.
He sat down at one of the tables, tugging on the sleeves of his worn out red plaid shirt as he waited for Damian to show up from... Where ever it was that he was currently at.
we got no money, but we got heart/we're gonna rattle this ghost town
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Post by DAMIAN BELANGER on May 29, 2020 17:20:10 GMT
we rattle this town
"You made it." Damian couldn't help the smile of relief as he hurried out from behind the counter carrying a teapot to sit down next to his brother. He hadn't meant to sound so surprised, but the truth was that exchanging letters with Rodrik for the last month had been more difficult than pulling teeth. It was unlike how they'd been for their entire lives--as the two closest in age of the Belanger brothers, Damian didn't think there had ever been a time when Rodrik wasn't talking to him. It was all too easy to deduce that something was very wrong.
He wished that O'Connor had let Hugo come as well, that he didn't have to be locked up in the castle away from all family for the day, but it was no use arguing. O'Connor was Deputy Headmaster and Damian was a 19-year-old waiter. He would have to worry about his younger brother from a distance--but at least he could see Rodrik now.
"Have some tea, don't worry about paying for it, Askold lets me have things like this--oh, we need teacups." There was too much worried energy in Damian's actions, as if all the energy that had been drained from Rodrik had been transferred to his brother. Jogging back over behind the counter, he retrieved two cups before settling in the chair across from Rodrik.
"I've missed you, Rodrik. I know seventh year gets really busy--" he would know; it hadn't been that long ago for him-- "but do you really not have that much time to write me? And is Hugo holding up alright?"
Rodrik had to stifle an annoyed snort. Did Damian think that he wasn't capable walking the little distance from the Gryffindor tower to Hogsmeade? As much as Rodrik considered himself hopeless, he wasn't that hopeless.
And now Damian was running around him with the anxiety of a nest of wasps that someone had kicked right onto one of those muggle highways, he was dashing back and forth, forgetting about mugs and pestering Rodrik about the lack of answers to his letters. He hadn't even spent a full minute around his older- eldest brother when he already wanted to leave, feeling like his head was going to burst.
"In addition to being a seventh year," he spoke, his voice quiet as he pulled one of the mugs closer to himself, "I'm still the Head Boy, Damian. I have to patrol and deal with these Durmstrang students too. Some of them are such a handful... O'Connor wasn't having any of it when I tried to make him see that I'm not suited for this job."
"Besides," he continued, staring at the edge of the empty mug, "Not like I have anything to tell you anyways. Unless you suddenly enjoy 7th year Transifguration theory, which is most of what I spend and should be spending my time on, anyhow."
we got no money, but we got heart/we're gonna rattle this ghost town
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Post by DAMIAN BELANGER on May 29, 2020 17:50:36 GMT
we rattle this town
If Damian had been his usual self, he would have made some comment about Rodrik being the Head Boy, something to make himself feel better about the fact that he was and seemingly always would be the least accomplished of the brothers. But now--now that was too much. Now it didn't seem to matter. Not when Vaughn was gone.
No, now he had to bite down his pride and comfort Rodrik, like an older brother should do, even if he himself felt even more lost than usual.
"I'm sure O'Connor knows what he's talking about. McGonagall wouldn't have picked you if she thought you weren't up to it." Damian still felt, privately, that he had been up to it, too, but others had been picked for that in his year. "You're better at patrolling than me, anyway. Maybe you'll finally convince Zoë to stop taking food from the kitchens at all times." Noting that, despite taking the cup, Rodrik hadn't made any moves toward the teapot, he picked it up himself, pouring almost to the brim for each of them.
"The thing is, Rodrik, you're my brother." Was and always would be his closest brother. "I can tell you're stressed, I can tell you're sad. I don't want you to get lost in it." Damian filled his days with work, taking out his emotions on the scrubbing of tables. He knew that if he stopped, he might be just as quiet and hunched as Rodrik was now, and he couldn't let that happen.
"I doubt McGonagall even knows who I am," he scoffed, "I've never liked being a prefect in the first place. I feel like an idiot for not sending the badge back when I first got it the summer before my 5th. Shouldn't have listened to... To Vaughn when he told me to keep it." He didn't want the responsibility that came with it -- not that he had problems with helping out lost first years or something of the sort, but it was still... Strange to be able to deduct points from your own classmates if you saw it fit. And enforcing rules, even when very necessary, on people you were friends with never ended well. In his fifth year he'd had a row with none other than Zoe over the same food snatching that Damian had mentioned.
It was a burden he didn't want to carry.
While Rodrik was speaking, Damian had filled his cup to the brim with light brown liquid that smelled strongly of peppermint, and the mug immediately got way too hot for Rodrik's hands, making him hiss and let it go. The pain came at the exact moment as Damian's overbearing fussing.
"Why don't you go and watch over Hugo? He's younger. I can deal with this myself, I'm not... I can deal with this." he answered. Rodrik knew he had a reputation for being particularly emotional, a fact that to this day was still the butt of many jokes, starting with Hugo calling him Mr. Floor Mop.
Rodrik didn't enjoy being emotional. It always lead to conversations at raised volumes or getting slapped right across the face, or something of the sort. And another thing -- it made his friends think they had to be around him all the bloody time when he showed any signs of being upset.
"I've already got Zoe following me around like a guard dog, I can barely be alone ever since--" I told her I want to die, he thought to himself. "You've got better things to do than worry about me, Damian." The younger Belanger wasn't exactly sure what said things were, but surely there was something Damian occupied himself with that wasn't the state of Rodrik Belanger.
we got no money, but we got heart/we're gonna rattle this ghost town
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Post by DAMIAN BELANGER on May 29, 2020 18:26:20 GMT
we rattle this town
"Are you joking? You're the Head Boy, of course she knows!" Hogwarts wasn't so fragmented as to have the Headmistress not know who the current Head Boy was. If Damian had been a violent man, he thought, he would want to smack some sense into his brother. "You're perfectly good at being a prefect, I would know, I was there that whole year. Someone would have told you by now if you weren't. But instead, they made you the Head Boy!"
It was frustrating, really, more than it had any right to be, but Damian's emotions were already strung tight enough to snap at any moment as it was. "And I can't watch over Hugo, no matter how much I want to. O'Connor won't let me. You know that." A month or so ago, he'd made a scene at his workplace by yelling at Teresa, and as the words flowed faster, Damian knew that it was about to happen yet again.
But the anger, the fear, the grief, they pushed the words out from his mouth anyway.
"I don't have anything better to do, no! Am I not allowed to care about my brother, just after--after losing another one? Rodrik, you can't--I'm glad she's looking after you, since you won't let me do it. Thank her for me, will you?"
Rodrik wasn't usually the one to raise his voice or get into conflict, prefering to just cower -- as much as a guy his height could cower -- and wait until it all blew over, but seeing Damian get agitated was grinding his gears, too. His fingers wrapped around the handle of the mug a little bit too tightly as he lifted up his arm to take a sip of the hot liquid, as Damian kept on rambling.
'Am I not allowed to care?'
'You won't let me look after you!'
"Have you considered even for a second that maybe I don't want to be looked after?" Rodrik said, pushing away the mug, making the liquid splash out over the sides, "Maybe I'm tired of being the one everyone thinks needs to constantly be coddled? You know how Hugo calls me! My 13 year old brother has more control over his emotions than I do, and isn't that just bloody laughable! Rodrik, Mr.Floor Mop, Rodrik who can't be left alone for a single second in case he starts weeping again like a little baby!" His voice got louder with every word, but never becoming outright yelling, every ounce of bitterness that he had bottled up in the last month spilling right out, "Why does nobody bloody ever ask if I want to be coddled? If I want to be a prefect? For fucks sake, my entire life I've stayed silent because I wanted everything to be peaceful, but you know how that turned out for me?"
"The only reason they got that engagement with Zoe settled was because father had decided to not ask me my opinion because 'I never talk back' anyways! Everyone knows full well that I'm not capable of making something of myself so they just fix my future for me, not bothering to ask my thoughts! And-- Merlin, this is pointless."
He'd caught himself rambling incessantly, letting out all the bitter thoughts he'd acquired over the last few years, his thoughts too chaotic to align his words in an order that would make sense to everyone else besides the boy-- the young man who lived with all these feelings, who knew them like the palm of his hand.
"Point is-- Every bloody night I wish that it was me in the backyard, not Vaughn, because Vaughn was capable, and sensible, and disciplined, and... And all those great things that I will never be! I wish it was me there because you, Damian, are the one who's determined and always is motivated, and Hugo takes after both of you, and I'm just--- I'm just useless Rodrik, who's been given a bloody badge probably only because... Fuck if I know!"
By now he had gotten out of his seat and had been talking right at Damian, his hands gesturing wildly, and with the last fuck he was already out of breath. His head was spinning and he could feel tears springing up into his eyes. A few more moments and he'd be Mr. Floor Mop once more, crying like the weak idiot that he was.
we got no money, but we got heart/we're gonna rattle this ghost town
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Post by DAMIAN BELANGER on May 29, 2020 19:14:41 GMT
we rattle this town
"Haven't you ever considered that people are saying that because they care?" Damian couldn't believe his ears. Rodrik had always had problems with confidence, but this was a new level. "Because when you cry, it makes them realize that you're hurting, and they want you to feel better? Because it hurts them to see you hurt? Because you matter, because they see good in you, because even the magic of the Sorting Hat could see you're brave?" It was everything that Damian had been feeling ever since Rodrik had stopped answering his letters, everything he'd been thinking about as he poured tea and took customers' Sickles all day.
Tea forgotten on the table, he stood up alongside Rodrik, the realization hitting him yet again that he was now looking up at his younger brother. Of course it wasn't coddling Rodrik, now that he was a young man, almost eighteen, it was wanting to make sure he didn't collapse under the weight of grief, as Damian feared he would himself sometimes.
"And you--how can you even believe you don't have a future?" It was a bitter and cold sensation in Damian's chest to think about it, how Rodrik was a good student, a Head Boy, far more dedicated than Damian ever had been, even if he clearly believed the opposite. All while Damian was at risk of losing a customer service job, two years after graduating, because he kept starting fights in the middle of the inn. "You haven't even finished school! Your grades have always been good, you work way harder than I did. The Ministry would take you in a heartbeat."
By now Damian's face was red, his eyes wide, tears threatening to emerge. "You can't die--you can't. Not when you have a whole life ahead of you. I can't lose you." He placed a hand on Rodrik's shoulder, pleading. Not when I've just lost Vaughn, too. I'm going to lose everything, won't I?
Rodrik couldn't tell what was heavier -- Damian's words or the hand clamped around his shoulder as his brother grew more and more agitated. His face was just as read as the faded out plaid shirt he was clutching, and Rodrik? Rodrik was having none of this.
"Oh, there you go again, 'I can't lose you'-- I'm not yours to lose, Damian! I'm not yours!" He spat out, angered by his brother's constant display of selfishness. It was about his feelings, about him, it was always about him and what he wanted, and never about what Rodrik wanted.
"You're telling me Hugo calls me Mr. Floor Mop because he cares? That is some leap of logic there, Damian," he huffed. Being mocked and treated like an infant didn't exactly align with the concept of caring for someone, at least not in Rodrik's brain. "And the Sorting Hat has made mistakes before," he continued, the weight of Damian's hand seeming to grow by the second.
"And I don't want to go to the Ministry! I don't want to be a curse breaker! I only ever claimed I did because I wanted to provide for our family, but I don't want that job, hell, after...After all of this I don't even want to be anywhere near the Ministry in the first place!" He continued, his tone growing evermore bitter. "And before you ask, no, I don't know what the hell I want to do with my life. There is absolutely nothing in this world that interests me anymore, nothing that can earn me money anyways. Add useless to the things I am, hah." The only thing he really cared for was his bagpipe and even that had been neglected for the last few weeks, Rodrik not being able to stand the somber droning of the instrument.
"I shouldn't have come here. Leave me be. " he finished, pushing Damian's hand off of his shoulder and turning around, leaving the same way he came, the tinkling of the door bell so mockingly joyful that it made his stomach churn.
we got no money, but we got heart/we're gonna rattle this ghost town
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Post by DAMIAN BELANGER on Jun 25, 2020 18:54:14 GMT
we rattle this town
Alone at the table, Damian sat in shock. What had gone so wrong, so horribly wrong? Fear trickled through his veins, fear that Rodrik, alone in the castle, might do something he didn't even want to think about, not for his brother, the brother who had always been closest to him, not right after Vaughn had died. He wanted to go after him, to run back up the road toward Hogwarts, to rattle the gates until McGonagall let him in, or at least to tell someone, anyone, to help Rodrik, to show him how much he was really worth, to force it into his mind in a way that Damian had tried so hard to do...
The thought that he might be putting his job at risk didn't even cross Damian's mind as panicked tears rose to his eyes, as he got up, the chair clattering backwards to the floor as he sprinted to the kitchen. He untied his apron and hung it up with trembling fingers, sniffling as snot began to trickle down his face. When he looked up, he was met with both Emil's and Askold's wide eyes, and he would not, could not, face them like this-- "I'm sorry," he choked out, "something just happened, I--" How was one to explain? "I'm sorry," he repeated. "I can't be out there right now."
He didn't wait for a response, backing out of the kitchen again and running upstairs. There were a few inn rooms for any visitors to Hogsmeade, but all currently unoccupied, and Damian flung open a door without caring which one it was. All of them would have beds inside, and that was all he wanted, to bury his face into a pillow as he sobbed, as the faces of his brothers clicked through his mind like a classroom slideshow--Vaughn, his older brother, his role model, now gone forever--Rodrik, his best friend, with the kindest of hearts, sunk into despair--Hugo, lovable little troublemaker, who must be so lost and confused now.
And now, wasn't it Damian's job to take care of them?
It was hard to breathe, with his face in the pillow, and the fabric was quickly becoming wet and slimy. He'd left the door open, not expecting anyone to be coming after him--why would they? They didn't know how to make him feel better, and Damian was sure that the only thing that could was knowing that Rodrik was alive and whole and not wanting to die.
But footsteps creaked on the floorboards anyway, and Damian raised his face weakly from the pillow, not really wanting to show his face in this state. He half expected it to be Askold, face kind but still suggesting that perhaps it was better if he didn't work with customers if this was going to happen during work hours. But it was Emil's body that came into view, sitting on the side of the bed, looking down at him with worried eyes.
"I don't know what happened," Emil said, quietly, "because I can't leave the kitchen, but Askold said I could come check on you."
Damian wasn't entirely sure that he wanted to explain, to let the words leave his mouth, to admit just how much of an emotional mess the Belanger brothers were at the moment. But he knew Emil had known Rodrik, because they had both been prefects (where Damian had not, but he didn't want to let that bitterness creep in too), so at least if he said...
"My brother came to visit. It didn't go well." His voice was flat, trying to remain steady even when his stuffed nose was making it hard to breathe.
"Rodrik?" Of course Rodrik; third-years still weren't being allowed to visit Hogsmeade despite Damian's wishes to see his youngest brother, but he didn't feel like snarking at Emil for it. Although Rodrik would have snarked, he thought, and he frowned again.
"He seemed even worse than how he was in August. But it doesn't seem like there's anything I can do to help, not when he's in school, and I doubt any of the professors care!" The small outburst was accompanied by more tears, and Emil put his hand on Damian's back, warm and comforting. Damian took a deep breath, through his mouth instead of his clogged nose, trying to force a bit of calm.
Emil hummed softly, looking deep in thought. Damian had never remembered the other Ravenclaw having siblings at school, and he wasn't sure if Emil knew what to say. Not that he would have known in the same situation, which was why he was crying now. He laid his head back down on the pillow, face tilted toward Emil.
"Can you stay with me?" Damian's voice was small, embarrassed. He didn't enjoy being seen like this by anyone, but the presence of Emil, the presence of Emil's hand, gave him something else to focus on instead of the storm inside his mind.
"Of course." And, work seemingly forgotten, Emil rubbed his back, as Damian's breathing became gradually steadier, until his emotionally exhausted mind slipped into sleep.
