<![CDATA[Knockturn Bound - Ravenclaw Head of House's Office]]> https://staging.knockturnbound.net/ Mon, 03 Aug 2026 20:26:08 +0000 MyBB <![CDATA[Unsettled || Mummy]]> https://staging.knockturnbound.net/showthread.php?tid=1061 Fri, 15 May 2026 12:35:24 +0000 Kathryn Barlowe]]> https://staging.knockturnbound.net/showthread.php?tid=1061 Friday, September 1, 1922
Julia's Office
9:45 PM
Knock, knock, knock.

Kathryn presented herself at her mother's door with little fanfare. The night had been a long and overwhelming one. There had been many people, many eager first-years who thought she might like to make friends with them. She wouldn't. They realised. Not too many had bothered with her after that. Shortly after being led up to the common room by the prefects and being shown to the room she wouldn't be staying in, the little girl had been encouraged to put her things away. She didn't see why. Her room was with her mother. That was where her things belonged. She would have Mr. Maddox bring them over in the morning.

Dorothy was in her dorm. The girl who'd followed Laura's lead in ensuring she couldn't join any of their games now had a bed right next to her. She wasn't happy – had said as much to another of their dormmates.

Kathryn left them chatting.

Her blanket was neatly folded and tucked under one arm, her pillow tucked under the other. She hadn't brushed her hair yet, but there was still time before she needed to be in bed. In her back pocket, her toothbrush sat, waiting to take part in her nightly routine.

She knocked again, thinking perhaps her mother hadn't heard her.

A group of older students walked by, causing her to flinch. From the moment everyone returned to the castle, there was nothing but noise. Everywhere, in every crevice. There were students flowing from every crack in the wall, more than Kathryn was used to from years of remaining shielded by her mother's private quarters. A handful stopped by every now and then. Her mother always fixed their issue, and then they disappeared behind the ominous door that hid the rest of the castle and all its stimulation from her view.

Kathryn was on the other side of that door now, thrown to the howling wolves that played too roughly and had little understanding of personal space.

An older boy had draped an arm around her shoulder, his grin wide as he asked whether she was Laurence's little sister.

She hadn't answered.

She wasn't a Laurence anymore. As seemed to be the case every few years, her name had changed again. It was no longer the same as her brother's but still the same as her mother's.

The group walked away laughing and oblivious to the presence of the little girl waiting to be let in by her mother. They were heading in the wrong direction.

Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock."]]> Friday, September 1, 1922
Julia's Office
9:45 PM
Knock, knock, knock.

Kathryn presented herself at her mother's door with little fanfare. The night had been a long and overwhelming one. There had been many people, many eager first-years who thought she might like to make friends with them. She wouldn't. They realised. Not too many had bothered with her after that. Shortly after being led up to the common room by the prefects and being shown to the room she wouldn't be staying in, the little girl had been encouraged to put her things away. She didn't see why. Her room was with her mother. That was where her things belonged. She would have Mr. Maddox bring them over in the morning.

Dorothy was in her dorm. The girl who'd followed Laura's lead in ensuring she couldn't join any of their games now had a bed right next to her. She wasn't happy – had said as much to another of their dormmates.

Kathryn left them chatting.

Her blanket was neatly folded and tucked under one arm, her pillow tucked under the other. She hadn't brushed her hair yet, but there was still time before she needed to be in bed. In her back pocket, her toothbrush sat, waiting to take part in her nightly routine.

She knocked again, thinking perhaps her mother hadn't heard her.

A group of older students walked by, causing her to flinch. From the moment everyone returned to the castle, there was nothing but noise. Everywhere, in every crevice. There were students flowing from every crack in the wall, more than Kathryn was used to from years of remaining shielded by her mother's private quarters. A handful stopped by every now and then. Her mother always fixed their issue, and then they disappeared behind the ominous door that hid the rest of the castle and all its stimulation from her view.

Kathryn was on the other side of that door now, thrown to the howling wolves that played too roughly and had little understanding of personal space.

An older boy had draped an arm around her shoulder, his grin wide as he asked whether she was Laurence's little sister.

She hadn't answered.

She wasn't a Laurence anymore. As seemed to be the case every few years, her name had changed again. It was no longer the same as her brother's but still the same as her mother's.

The group walked away laughing and oblivious to the presence of the little girl waiting to be let in by her mother. They were heading in the wrong direction.

Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock."]]> <![CDATA[Ravenclaw HoH Office]]> https://staging.knockturnbound.net/showthread.php?tid=681 Thu, 27 Nov 2025 05:53:28 +0000 Julia Barlowe]]> https://staging.knockturnbound.net/showthread.php?tid=681
Professor Barlowe's Office

Julia’s Ravenclaw office sits at the height of the west tower, tucked behind an arched stone entryway charmed to open only at her touch. The moment one steps inside, it becomes clear that this is unmistakably Julia.

The room is a harmony of cream, mist-blue, and soft dove-grey, a palette that blends the traditional colors of the house with the woman's refined, airy aesthetic. Tall, mullioned windows sweep across the curve of the tower, flooding the office with natural light and offering sweeping views of the castle rooftops and the stretch of the Black Lake below. Sunlight glints off delicate pastel baubles that drift lazily near the ceiling.

The centerpiece of the room is a carved white-oak desk with silver filigree work, flanked by a high-backed armchair upholstered in dark blue velvet. Shelves line the curved stone walls, filled with carefully arranged books on magical theory, art history, folklore, and ritual magic. A glass case near the back displays artifacts from Julia’s years as a curator — ancient runestones, a preserved selkie comb, a few skulls and a small lunar dial.

A fireplace anchors the space, its mantle adorned with soft lilacs, framed sketches of her children, and a few hand-written notes from students she’s quietly proud of. Above it hangs a charcoal sketch rendering of the Black Lake done by her son Benji. All around the room hang dried herbs and flora that she uses in her potions.

Plush cream rugs soften the cold stone floors and the faint scent of orange and vanilla lingers in the air. Her favorite chaise — tufted in pale rose — sits beneath one of the windows for midday grading sessions or stolen naps.

Despite its elegance, the room always feels lived-in. A teacup left half-full on a side table. A stack of essays on the desk. A single bauble drifting past the window before settling protectively at her shoulder.
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Professor Barlowe's Office

Julia’s Ravenclaw office sits at the height of the west tower, tucked behind an arched stone entryway charmed to open only at her touch. The moment one steps inside, it becomes clear that this is unmistakably Julia.

The room is a harmony of cream, mist-blue, and soft dove-grey, a palette that blends the traditional colors of the house with the woman's refined, airy aesthetic. Tall, mullioned windows sweep across the curve of the tower, flooding the office with natural light and offering sweeping views of the castle rooftops and the stretch of the Black Lake below. Sunlight glints off delicate pastel baubles that drift lazily near the ceiling.

The centerpiece of the room is a carved white-oak desk with silver filigree work, flanked by a high-backed armchair upholstered in dark blue velvet. Shelves line the curved stone walls, filled with carefully arranged books on magical theory, art history, folklore, and ritual magic. A glass case near the back displays artifacts from Julia’s years as a curator — ancient runestones, a preserved selkie comb, a few skulls and a small lunar dial.

A fireplace anchors the space, its mantle adorned with soft lilacs, framed sketches of her children, and a few hand-written notes from students she’s quietly proud of. Above it hangs a charcoal sketch rendering of the Black Lake done by her son Benji. All around the room hang dried herbs and flora that she uses in her potions.

Plush cream rugs soften the cold stone floors and the faint scent of orange and vanilla lingers in the air. Her favorite chaise — tufted in pale rose — sits beneath one of the windows for midday grading sessions or stolen naps.

Despite its elegance, the room always feels lived-in. A teacup left half-full on a side table. A stack of essays on the desk. A single bauble drifting past the window before settling protectively at her shoulder.
]]> <![CDATA[Professor Barlowe's Letterbox]]> https://staging.knockturnbound.net/showthread.php?tid=345 Sat, 23 Aug 2025 23:28:36 +0000 Julia Barlowe]]> https://staging.knockturnbound.net/showthread.php?tid=345
Professor Barlowe's Letterbox

Please Submit All Appropriate Correspondence As Follows:
  • Extra Credit Assignments
  • Meeting/Tutoring Requests
  • Questions Regarding Class Schedules & Library Shifts

Please note, any whinging, tattling or secret admirer letters will result in a swift detention and extra library shifts.
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Professor Barlowe's Letterbox

Please Submit All Appropriate Correspondence As Follows:
  • Extra Credit Assignments
  • Meeting/Tutoring Requests
  • Questions Regarding Class Schedules & Library Shifts

Please note, any whinging, tattling or secret admirer letters will result in a swift detention and extra library shifts.
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