https://staging.knockturnbound.net/ Sat, 18 Apr 2026 17:05:59 +0000 MyBB https://staging.knockturnbound.net/showthread.php?tid=894 Mon, 16 Feb 2026 05:59:35 +0000 Bertram Nordstrom]]> https://staging.knockturnbound.net/showthread.php?tid=894 18 February 1922
Hogsmeade Weekend
11:30 am



It was a strange turn of events. Bram had received a letter from Tilly about cancelling their normal Hogsmeade date, something to do with plants. This was no shock. But then, the next day he got an owl requesting a date with Alice. He was happy to oblige. Anytime he could spend with his girls was a blessing.

She hadn’t specified the nature of their meeting. He had a suspicion that Everleigh would be discussed. He knew things were going downhill with her recovery, but he wasn’t privy to the specifics. It was fantastic seeing all three girls for Christmas, but Ever was so withdrawn, sad, anxious. It was heartbreaking.

The conversation with his daughter and imbecile son-in-law went the same way. He was a broken record. She needed help, but they refused to hear reason. She was getting worse and they didn’t care.

Bertram decided to forgo the Tea shop this time, since the last time he met with Alice, Allegra had shown up and ruined the day. So, instead, he planned to meet her at the candy shop for some ice cream sunday.

Finding a seat was difficult on Hogsmeade weekends, but he arrived early and found a spot in the corner with two seats, his back against the wall. He had a good view, so he watched as Alice came into the shop looking tired and disheveled. His worry increased tenfold. His forehead scrunched up in concern.

“Darling, it’s so good to see you.” He said, giving her a strong hug, one only the arms of a grandfather could deliver, and kissing her on the temple. “I’ve missed you. Is everything ok?”
]]> 18 February 1922
Hogsmeade Weekend
11:30 am



It was a strange turn of events. Bram had received a letter from Tilly about cancelling their normal Hogsmeade date, something to do with plants. This was no shock. But then, the next day he got an owl requesting a date with Alice. He was happy to oblige. Anytime he could spend with his girls was a blessing.

She hadn’t specified the nature of their meeting. He had a suspicion that Everleigh would be discussed. He knew things were going downhill with her recovery, but he wasn’t privy to the specifics. It was fantastic seeing all three girls for Christmas, but Ever was so withdrawn, sad, anxious. It was heartbreaking.

The conversation with his daughter and imbecile son-in-law went the same way. He was a broken record. She needed help, but they refused to hear reason. She was getting worse and they didn’t care.

Bertram decided to forgo the Tea shop this time, since the last time he met with Alice, Allegra had shown up and ruined the day. So, instead, he planned to meet her at the candy shop for some ice cream sunday.

Finding a seat was difficult on Hogsmeade weekends, but he arrived early and found a spot in the corner with two seats, his back against the wall. He had a good view, so he watched as Alice came into the shop looking tired and disheveled. His worry increased tenfold. His forehead scrunched up in concern.

“Darling, it’s so good to see you.” He said, giving her a strong hug, one only the arms of a grandfather could deliver, and kissing her on the temple. “I’ve missed you. Is everything ok?”
]]> https://staging.knockturnbound.net/showthread.php?tid=683 Sat, 29 Nov 2025 00:47:37 +0000 Kathryn Laurence]]> https://staging.knockturnbound.net/showthread.php?tid=683 Tuesday, March 15, 1921
Outdoor seating of the shop
1:45 PM

It wasn't Sunday.

Kathryn was dressed in a pastel blue drop-waist dress that fell by her knees, her stark white stockings pristine, and her Mary Janes without a scuff of dirt from how carefully the girl had had them walk all the way to Butterwand's. She didn't know why they were having ice cream on a Tuesday, fearing her mother might not have realised it was Tuesday at all, but that was never an excuse not to look her best. At some point, the woman would walk by a shop window or hear something floating through their doors, and learn the date. Then, they could put this little outing behind them. It was nearly 2. She had dance at 3, so she supposed it wasn't a wasted trip, but she hadn't gotten through her English Language work yet.

The little girl kept a tight hold on her mother's hand, firm and vice-like. She'd spent the night before awake and terrified. No matter how long the day was--and even with the woman sometimes refusing to adhere to the 10 o'clock bedtime--she'd never...not been there.

But the night before, Rosie brushed her hair and tucked Evander in next to her. She tried reading to them, singing, and offering reassurances. It hadn't taken much for the baby, but Kathryn had been unwilling to budge. All night, she kept her eyes glued to the door, expecting it would open at any moment and her mother would walk in, kicking off her heels, hands already at her ears, removing her earrings while she apologised for whatever had kept her that long.

She never did. Ten became eleven...then one...then four. Before she knew it, the sun's light once again flooded the room, Rosie was curled up with Evander and the door remained firmly shut. Undisturbed throughout the night.

The day started. With gloved, practiced fingers, she carefully wound her hair into the neat bun that it always was. She brushed her teeth. There was breakfast, but no mother. Two hours of study--her mother never checked her numbers. A break. She sat by the door and waited. More studies. Encouragement to play with Rosie and the baby.

A firm refusal.

More door watching.

Disappointment.

Kathryn had convinced herself that her mother wasn't coming back, that she'd been left again, this time without a goodbye. The relief at seeing Julia walk through the door still had her shaking and certainly refusing to loosen her grip, lest the woman find a way to disappear again.

When they picked a table in the outdoor seating area, Kathryn kept her hand stretched across the table so it could continue holding onto her mother's. She should've worn a dress with longer sleeves. The little girl grimaced at the thought of the grime from the table getting onto her elbows, but it wasn't enough to make her let go.

The ice cream went entirely ignored. Those big blue eyes were only for the woman across from her.]]> Tuesday, March 15, 1921
Outdoor seating of the shop
1:45 PM

It wasn't Sunday.

Kathryn was dressed in a pastel blue drop-waist dress that fell by her knees, her stark white stockings pristine, and her Mary Janes without a scuff of dirt from how carefully the girl had had them walk all the way to Butterwand's. She didn't know why they were having ice cream on a Tuesday, fearing her mother might not have realised it was Tuesday at all, but that was never an excuse not to look her best. At some point, the woman would walk by a shop window or hear something floating through their doors, and learn the date. Then, they could put this little outing behind them. It was nearly 2. She had dance at 3, so she supposed it wasn't a wasted trip, but she hadn't gotten through her English Language work yet.

The little girl kept a tight hold on her mother's hand, firm and vice-like. She'd spent the night before awake and terrified. No matter how long the day was--and even with the woman sometimes refusing to adhere to the 10 o'clock bedtime--she'd never...not been there.

But the night before, Rosie brushed her hair and tucked Evander in next to her. She tried reading to them, singing, and offering reassurances. It hadn't taken much for the baby, but Kathryn had been unwilling to budge. All night, she kept her eyes glued to the door, expecting it would open at any moment and her mother would walk in, kicking off her heels, hands already at her ears, removing her earrings while she apologised for whatever had kept her that long.

She never did. Ten became eleven...then one...then four. Before she knew it, the sun's light once again flooded the room, Rosie was curled up with Evander and the door remained firmly shut. Undisturbed throughout the night.

The day started. With gloved, practiced fingers, she carefully wound her hair into the neat bun that it always was. She brushed her teeth. There was breakfast, but no mother. Two hours of study--her mother never checked her numbers. A break. She sat by the door and waited. More studies. Encouragement to play with Rosie and the baby.

A firm refusal.

More door watching.

Disappointment.

Kathryn had convinced herself that her mother wasn't coming back, that she'd been left again, this time without a goodbye. The relief at seeing Julia walk through the door still had her shaking and certainly refusing to loosen her grip, lest the woman find a way to disappear again.

When they picked a table in the outdoor seating area, Kathryn kept her hand stretched across the table so it could continue holding onto her mother's. She should've worn a dress with longer sleeves. The little girl grimaced at the thought of the grime from the table getting onto her elbows, but it wasn't enough to make her let go.

The ice cream went entirely ignored. Those big blue eyes were only for the woman across from her.]]>