<![CDATA[Knockturn Bound - In Character]]> https://staging.knockturnbound.net/ Tue, 06 Oct 2026 03:07:07 +0000 MyBB <![CDATA[The Hospital Wing: Passing List]]> https://staging.knockturnbound.net/showthread.php?tid=1169 Thu, 23 Jul 2026 05:49:49 +0000 Ruth Elliot]]> https://staging.knockturnbound.net/showthread.php?tid=1169 Passing Students

Kathryn Barlowe
Ruth Elliot
Avery Hale
Matilda Nordstrom
Alice Ravenstone

]]> Passing Students

Kathryn Barlowe
Ruth Elliot
Avery Hale
Matilda Nordstrom
Alice Ravenstone

]]> <![CDATA[pretty okay || julia]]> https://staging.knockturnbound.net/showthread.php?tid=1160 Fri, 17 Jul 2026 01:50:14 +0000 Morgan Barlowe]]> https://staging.knockturnbound.net/showthread.php?tid=1160 18 March 1923
6:30 am
Ravenclaw Tower
Morgan hadn’t slept at all; she’d tossed and turned for a while, unable to get the thought of holding Brooks’ hand out of her head. She’d resisted admitting to any feelings since Benji and for good reason. Feelings made things messy. Her relationship with Benji – her friendship – was so much simpler without the stupid crush she’d had when she first met him at summer camp and had a food fight with him.

Thinking about that made her frown. It seemed like it was ages ago. In a way, she was happy he was her brother now. That was a hard line – a very hard one. Well. Not to mention Rae scared her. But that was another story.

Once her mind finally settled, she drifted off to sleep only to wake up about three hours later.

Breakfast. She had to meet Julia before that, which was at 7. So 6:30 it was. Well, not even 6:30! She had to get up at 6:00 to ensure she was functional and didn’t look like she hadn’t slept!

It was hard work.

Morgan was ready to crawl back into her bed. Thank god it was the weekend.

Although… it wasn’t until her slow walk to the Ravenclaw entrance that she realized it was the damn weekend, which meant her dad probably had some punishment for her right after breakfast.

That was just about enough to make her want to cry. She didn’t, though.

“David, this is your fault,” she’d told the toad before she left her dorm. He was grounded in his aquarium for the whole weekend. He’d suffer for getting her caught. If he’d just kept his big toad mouth shut, and his croaks to himself, they could have maybe probably snuck out without getting caught.

Maybe.

She leaned against the wall, letting her eyes close as she waited. Had she been a bit early? Honestly, Morgan didn’t know. She didn’t even notice someone else was beside her until she felt a pinky link with hers.

Green eyes fluttering open, she found Brooks looking at her, that handsome smirk on his face. Handsome?! The thought caused her heart to race and she immediately stood up, her eyes wide. But she didn’t break contact. Nope. She liked it too much.

He asked how she was, and she just shrugged her shoulders. And then she saw Julia appear. She blushed and looked over at Rook. “I’ll find you at breakfast,” she said, her voice a bit quieter than normal.]]> 18 March 1923
6:30 am
Ravenclaw Tower
Morgan hadn’t slept at all; she’d tossed and turned for a while, unable to get the thought of holding Brooks’ hand out of her head. She’d resisted admitting to any feelings since Benji and for good reason. Feelings made things messy. Her relationship with Benji – her friendship – was so much simpler without the stupid crush she’d had when she first met him at summer camp and had a food fight with him.

Thinking about that made her frown. It seemed like it was ages ago. In a way, she was happy he was her brother now. That was a hard line – a very hard one. Well. Not to mention Rae scared her. But that was another story.

Once her mind finally settled, she drifted off to sleep only to wake up about three hours later.

Breakfast. She had to meet Julia before that, which was at 7. So 6:30 it was. Well, not even 6:30! She had to get up at 6:00 to ensure she was functional and didn’t look like she hadn’t slept!

It was hard work.

Morgan was ready to crawl back into her bed. Thank god it was the weekend.

Although… it wasn’t until her slow walk to the Ravenclaw entrance that she realized it was the damn weekend, which meant her dad probably had some punishment for her right after breakfast.

That was just about enough to make her want to cry. She didn’t, though.

“David, this is your fault,” she’d told the toad before she left her dorm. He was grounded in his aquarium for the whole weekend. He’d suffer for getting her caught. If he’d just kept his big toad mouth shut, and his croaks to himself, they could have maybe probably snuck out without getting caught.

Maybe.

She leaned against the wall, letting her eyes close as she waited. Had she been a bit early? Honestly, Morgan didn’t know. She didn’t even notice someone else was beside her until she felt a pinky link with hers.

Green eyes fluttering open, she found Brooks looking at her, that handsome smirk on his face. Handsome?! The thought caused her heart to race and she immediately stood up, her eyes wide. But she didn’t break contact. Nope. She liked it too much.

He asked how she was, and she just shrugged her shoulders. And then she saw Julia appear. She blushed and looked over at Rook. “I’ll find you at breakfast,” she said, her voice a bit quieter than normal.]]> <![CDATA[Comeuppance | Bae]]> https://staging.knockturnbound.net/showthread.php?tid=1159 Thu, 16 Jul 2026 15:12:42 +0000 Benji Laurence]]> https://staging.knockturnbound.net/showthread.php?tid=1159 Wednesday, May 16, 1923
4:45 PM
The Shores of the Black Lake

"I guess I just don't understand."

He didn't. As usual. There was always something he didn't understand. Some new offense he'd gone and done that had twitched his girlfriend's nerves and left him to account for it. Kaitlyn Dwyer was...persistent. He and Rae both knew that, and the girl had had a thing for him since their first year. He'd indulged her for a time, finding she was a great snog and a good way to pass time - before he'd had a girlfriend.

Since then, Kaitlyn had never really let go.

Benji could admit it was annoying, and he knew in some way, that it bothered his girlfriend that Kaitlyn still liked him. But there was nothing Benji could do about that! The Ravenclaw knew Ruth Elliot was his girlfriend and had been for quite some time now. He'd never indulged her or led her to believe that he'd still hook up with her. Not in his mind anyway.

If Benji wanted to hook up with someone, he'd just do it, not beat around the bush for the better part of two years first.

"Look, she said I looked good after Quidditch practice, and all I said was 'thanks'. I didn't let her feel me up or anything." He sighed. He knew he could give a laundry list of the ways he hadn't betrayed his girlfriend, but none of them would mean anything to Rae until the girl backed off for good.

Like he had any control over that.

"What do you want me to do, Rae? Punch her? Pull her hair? Call her names? It's not worth that. Just ignore her."

Seriously, did it have to be this big of an issue? He didn't think so. Everyone knew he was dating Rae. Hell, they knew he was marrying Rae. At this point, it was pretty non-negotiable even if either of them wanted something different.

Which he didn't. And had made - in his mind - abundantly clear to Kaitlyn Dwyer multiple times over.]]> Wednesday, May 16, 1923
4:45 PM
The Shores of the Black Lake

"I guess I just don't understand."

He didn't. As usual. There was always something he didn't understand. Some new offense he'd gone and done that had twitched his girlfriend's nerves and left him to account for it. Kaitlyn Dwyer was...persistent. He and Rae both knew that, and the girl had had a thing for him since their first year. He'd indulged her for a time, finding she was a great snog and a good way to pass time - before he'd had a girlfriend.

Since then, Kaitlyn had never really let go.

Benji could admit it was annoying, and he knew in some way, that it bothered his girlfriend that Kaitlyn still liked him. But there was nothing Benji could do about that! The Ravenclaw knew Ruth Elliot was his girlfriend and had been for quite some time now. He'd never indulged her or led her to believe that he'd still hook up with her. Not in his mind anyway.

If Benji wanted to hook up with someone, he'd just do it, not beat around the bush for the better part of two years first.

"Look, she said I looked good after Quidditch practice, and all I said was 'thanks'. I didn't let her feel me up or anything." He sighed. He knew he could give a laundry list of the ways he hadn't betrayed his girlfriend, but none of them would mean anything to Rae until the girl backed off for good.

Like he had any control over that.

"What do you want me to do, Rae? Punch her? Pull her hair? Call her names? It's not worth that. Just ignore her."

Seriously, did it have to be this big of an issue? He didn't think so. Everyone knew he was dating Rae. Hell, they knew he was marrying Rae. At this point, it was pretty non-negotiable even if either of them wanted something different.

Which he didn't. And had made - in his mind - abundantly clear to Kaitlyn Dwyer multiple times over.]]> <![CDATA[Thursday Shakedown || Avryn]]> https://staging.knockturnbound.net/showthread.php?tid=1158 Thu, 16 Jul 2026 13:37:35 +0000 Kathryn Barlowe]]> https://staging.knockturnbound.net/showthread.php?tid=1158  
      Thursday, April 12, 1923  
~ 9:53 AM



Avery Calder Hale was an insufferable brown-noser.

They should've been out of the potions classroom three minutes ago, already on their way up the stairs and toward the DADA classroom. They wouldn't be late, not if they were a bit more brisk in their walk, but it did mean they'd have to move at a less leisurely pace than she liked on the way to the class she despised. Some might wrongly assume eagerness where there was none. Should the professor be walking the same corridor, Professor Blackwood might erroneously conclude that she and Avery were excited for the lesson and couldn't wait for it to begin.

That may have been the case for Avery, and it was unfortunate that people had begun to assume her moods and opinions mirrored his. The absence of her own words and the sheer abundance of his often left people thinking he spoke for them both. His bossiness couldn't have helped that either.

The Ravenclaw currently yapping in good spirits had insisted they remain behind to help her mother pack away the extra ingredients. Kathryn would have offered, if there wasn't another class they needed to be in. His willingness was her chain.

He couldn't be the only one to help her mother. She wouldn't allow it.

Now they would barely be on time.

They lagged behind the rest of the class, but they were still in view, at least until the group bent the corner that led to the staircase. The distance wasn't insurmountable, but Avery would have to realise that their current pace was unacceptable.

As they approached the corner, their path was suddenly blocked.

Not everyone had carried on after rounding the corner. Dorothy stood before them, preventing further movement. She wasn't alone. The entire group was there. Evelyn and Marjorie, and, of course, heading the disruption was Laura herself. Curiously, there attention wasn't on the girl who had had playdates with them in a summer now past. Haughty eyes and disapproving scowls were all turned toward Avery.

They looked at him as if they were expecting something, until eventually, even Kathryn turned her gaze in his direction.

"We need to talk."

If he had business with them, she preferred he hurry up or they really would be late and she would be thoroughly put out.]]>  
      Thursday, April 12, 1923  
~ 9:53 AM



Avery Calder Hale was an insufferable brown-noser.

They should've been out of the potions classroom three minutes ago, already on their way up the stairs and toward the DADA classroom. They wouldn't be late, not if they were a bit more brisk in their walk, but it did mean they'd have to move at a less leisurely pace than she liked on the way to the class she despised. Some might wrongly assume eagerness where there was none. Should the professor be walking the same corridor, Professor Blackwood might erroneously conclude that she and Avery were excited for the lesson and couldn't wait for it to begin.

That may have been the case for Avery, and it was unfortunate that people had begun to assume her moods and opinions mirrored his. The absence of her own words and the sheer abundance of his often left people thinking he spoke for them both. His bossiness couldn't have helped that either.

The Ravenclaw currently yapping in good spirits had insisted they remain behind to help her mother pack away the extra ingredients. Kathryn would have offered, if there wasn't another class they needed to be in. His willingness was her chain.

He couldn't be the only one to help her mother. She wouldn't allow it.

Now they would barely be on time.

They lagged behind the rest of the class, but they were still in view, at least until the group bent the corner that led to the staircase. The distance wasn't insurmountable, but Avery would have to realise that their current pace was unacceptable.

As they approached the corner, their path was suddenly blocked.

Not everyone had carried on after rounding the corner. Dorothy stood before them, preventing further movement. She wasn't alone. The entire group was there. Evelyn and Marjorie, and, of course, heading the disruption was Laura herself. Curiously, there attention wasn't on the girl who had had playdates with them in a summer now past. Haughty eyes and disapproving scowls were all turned toward Avery.

They looked at him as if they were expecting something, until eventually, even Kathryn turned her gaze in his direction.

"We need to talk."

If he had business with them, she preferred he hurry up or they really would be late and she would be thoroughly put out.]]> <![CDATA[serendipitous ~ June]]> https://staging.knockturnbound.net/showthread.php?tid=1156 Tue, 14 Jul 2026 00:41:37 +0000 Maevie Golding]]> https://staging.knockturnbound.net/showthread.php?tid=1156 Wednesday, 2 May 1923
11:29pm
~ the kitchen corridor ~
───────────────────── ⋆⋅ ✺ ⋅⋆ ─────────────────────


Her sleep potions had stopped working.

It had been hours of tossing and turning, of almost nodding off only to be startled awake again, the gleam of cruel eyes boring down on her or the feeling of ice-cold guilt rushing into her veins, and at last Maevie had given up. Again. They had slowly crept back in, her night terrors but the nurses in the Hospital Wing refused to increase her doses any longer. She was at a limit they said, and had she tried to do some breathwork before bed?

Maevie had tried. Still did. But to no avail.

If she were a better potioneer she might have tried to brew her own supply, something more potent, perhaps a recipe found in one of those really old looking, dusty books of the Restricted Section. Anything to make the persistent movie in her head stop for long enough to be able to get a full night’s rest.

But she was too scared to mess it up. The nurses had warned her.

Instead of tinkering in businesses she didn’t understand, Maevie resorted to a trusty comfort in exchange — a trip to the kitchen. No matter how late, it seemed at least a handful of elves was always awake, preparing one thing or another, cleaning dishes, organizing pantries. But never busy enough to not help. In a way, those little creatures had become some of her best friends, an escape when things got too heavy and dark. They were the only ones whose impression of her was untainted by what had happened in the past.

A different world.

As she rounded the last corner though, she suddenly froze, body seizing up at the sight of another person already standing before the portrait that doubled as the kitchen’s entrance. For a second she was on the verge of turning and running, back to her common room as fast as she could, but the girl down the hallway definitely was no professor. In fact, it looked more as though she might be another curfew breaker in search of a snack.

Releasing a breath of relief, Maevie hurried to the stranger’s side. “You scared me half to death,” she said by way of greeting, keeping her voice low but her eyes full of humour. “Thought I got myself into another detention for a second. You getting a midnight snack too? I’m Maevie, by the way.”]]> Wednesday, 2 May 1923
11:29pm
~ the kitchen corridor ~
───────────────────── ⋆⋅ ✺ ⋅⋆ ─────────────────────


Her sleep potions had stopped working.

It had been hours of tossing and turning, of almost nodding off only to be startled awake again, the gleam of cruel eyes boring down on her or the feeling of ice-cold guilt rushing into her veins, and at last Maevie had given up. Again. They had slowly crept back in, her night terrors but the nurses in the Hospital Wing refused to increase her doses any longer. She was at a limit they said, and had she tried to do some breathwork before bed?

Maevie had tried. Still did. But to no avail.

If she were a better potioneer she might have tried to brew her own supply, something more potent, perhaps a recipe found in one of those really old looking, dusty books of the Restricted Section. Anything to make the persistent movie in her head stop for long enough to be able to get a full night’s rest.

But she was too scared to mess it up. The nurses had warned her.

Instead of tinkering in businesses she didn’t understand, Maevie resorted to a trusty comfort in exchange — a trip to the kitchen. No matter how late, it seemed at least a handful of elves was always awake, preparing one thing or another, cleaning dishes, organizing pantries. But never busy enough to not help. In a way, those little creatures had become some of her best friends, an escape when things got too heavy and dark. They were the only ones whose impression of her was untainted by what had happened in the past.

A different world.

As she rounded the last corner though, she suddenly froze, body seizing up at the sight of another person already standing before the portrait that doubled as the kitchen’s entrance. For a second she was on the verge of turning and running, back to her common room as fast as she could, but the girl down the hallway definitely was no professor. In fact, it looked more as though she might be another curfew breaker in search of a snack.

Releasing a breath of relief, Maevie hurried to the stranger’s side. “You scared me half to death,” she said by way of greeting, keeping her voice low but her eyes full of humour. “Thought I got myself into another detention for a second. You getting a midnight snack too? I’m Maevie, by the way.”]]> <![CDATA[Fresh linens || avery]]> https://staging.knockturnbound.net/showthread.php?tid=1154 Mon, 13 Jul 2026 00:46:41 +0000 Alice Ravenstone]]> https://staging.knockturnbound.net/showthread.php?tid=1154 Tuesday, 8 May 1923
Evening shift, after dinner

Despite everything else, Alice always loved the way freshly cleaned linens smelt. The hospital wing was relatively quiet, thankfully, which was fine because she had a lot on her mind. She’d found no more information about her birth mother – her search for a 'Sarah' who had met her dad long enough ago to get pregnant with her was not very fruitful. It didn’t help that Thatcher Ravenstone had a very wide portfolio of business partners through the years.

But being patient with the man who was holding everything over her head and finalizing a marriage contract was enough to drive her insane. Alice didn’t know how much longer she could bite her tongue around him. Her entire future rested in his hands and it made her sick.

Just about as sick as it made her that her sister was locked away in a mental hospital because of him.

Alice clenched her jaw shut as she dropped a fitted sheet onto one of the empty beds and looked around. She definitely preferred not to think about Everleigh, as painful as that fact was.

“Hey, come help with this,” she said after her brown eyes landed on one of the first year volunteers. Normally – before everything – she had a better sense of who everyone was, and also had more of a standing in the wing. But after the last couple of terms, everything had slipped. Including classes and her duties in the wing.

She still wanted to work at St. Mungo’s one day, but Alice didn’t think it was such a feasible goal anymore. Between feeling like she was failing at everything and literally feeling like she was a stranger to even herself, she didn't know what her future looked like or if she had any interest in the one being arranged for her.]]> Tuesday, 8 May 1923
Evening shift, after dinner

Despite everything else, Alice always loved the way freshly cleaned linens smelt. The hospital wing was relatively quiet, thankfully, which was fine because she had a lot on her mind. She’d found no more information about her birth mother – her search for a 'Sarah' who had met her dad long enough ago to get pregnant with her was not very fruitful. It didn’t help that Thatcher Ravenstone had a very wide portfolio of business partners through the years.

But being patient with the man who was holding everything over her head and finalizing a marriage contract was enough to drive her insane. Alice didn’t know how much longer she could bite her tongue around him. Her entire future rested in his hands and it made her sick.

Just about as sick as it made her that her sister was locked away in a mental hospital because of him.

Alice clenched her jaw shut as she dropped a fitted sheet onto one of the empty beds and looked around. She definitely preferred not to think about Everleigh, as painful as that fact was.

“Hey, come help with this,” she said after her brown eyes landed on one of the first year volunteers. Normally – before everything – she had a better sense of who everyone was, and also had more of a standing in the wing. But after the last couple of terms, everything had slipped. Including classes and her duties in the wing.

She still wanted to work at St. Mungo’s one day, but Alice didn’t think it was such a feasible goal anymore. Between feeling like she was failing at everything and literally feeling like she was a stranger to even herself, she didn't know what her future looked like or if she had any interest in the one being arranged for her.]]> <![CDATA[No More Pretending :: DraMa]]> https://staging.knockturnbound.net/showthread.php?tid=1152 Sun, 12 Jul 2026 03:02:29 +0000 Matilda Nordstrom]]> https://staging.knockturnbound.net/showthread.php?tid=1152
11 May 1923
Friday, 6:15 pm
Menu




The castle kitchen was too busy for what she needed. Matilda was in for a full day of cooking, which in this situation was both relaxing and nerve wracking. The elves would typically accommodate her hobby, eager to help with whatever she needed, but the menu she had in mind would be hours of work.

Thankfully, for the small price of a batch of apple crumble muffins, (Rose’s favorite), Professor Blackwood was letting Matilda work in the Applied Magic kitchen space. She had a full fridge of ingredients ready to go, two ovens pre-heating, a large pot of water boiling, a workstation filled with bowls, knives and spices. A stack of recipes sat aside with notes written in the margins: prep lists, times, when to start, etc.

The prep started the night before, working on the medovik honey cake, cutting vegetables, marinating meat, and kneading dough. She had lied to Drago, using Alice as an excuse, hoping he didn’t ask her about their girls' night. Working for a few hours the night before his birthday, then hours again the day of, this was the most extensive menu she had ever executed.

Hopefully it would all turn out.

When she made the cake for Serik, it was easy to wave it off as a nice gesture. This was not a simple birthday cake. This was weeks of planning, days of prep and hours of cooking. She wanted, more than anything, for him to enjoy the meal she had spent so much time making.

If there had been any question before today, now the answer would be clear. She liked him. Probably a lot, but that revelation would come in time.

The dinner was made of classic Russian dishes, none of which she had made in the past. Pelmeni, Borscht, Beef Stroganoff, Pirozhki and Borodinsky bread. Reading the recipes, the process seemed pretty straight forward. Nothing stood out as too difficult, other than the flavor profile and a few interesting cooking methods. Typically, when she cooked, she would taste the food, but in this case she had no idea what anything was supposed to taste like.

A recipe for disaster honestly.



As the time got closer, Matilda stepped away to change into a simple green dress with a bow collar. The dress skimmed just below the knee, in a flirty ruffled hem, while her hair tied in a long french braid hung over one shoulder. An apron tied around her waist showed signs of her day. Stains in various colors, a prelude to their menu.

Putting final touches on her dishes, Matilda moved around the kitchen with practiced ease. Cutting herbs, slicing bread, plating the dishes in an artful pleasing way. The Wizarding Wireless radio playing in the background, adding a soundtrack for her work. In dueling or spellwork her movements were jerky, unsure, sluggish, but in the greenhouse and kitchen Matilda was comfortable.

Moving around the space with grace, she reached for tools without looking, knowing just where she had left them. Stirring one post of boiling water while she lifted a spoon from another pot to taste. It was like a fluid dance, but she was the only one that knew the steps.

All the dishes were done, most already plated and in warming drawers. The mix of smells made her stomach rumble with hunger. Everything she had tasted was surprisingly good, especially the Firebird Ale. The non-alcoholic amber colored drink was a mix of crisp apples, juicy pears, plums, honey, and spices in a warm, comforting brew. Rich and lightly sparkling, from her research, it seemed to be a staple.

As Matilda cut the parsley to sprinkle on the stroganoff, she was swaying back and forth while humming quietly to the music, lost in her own world, she didn’t hear the door open and close behind her. The plan was to meet in the foyer outside the great hall at 6:30pm, but once again Drago had found her early.]]>
11 May 1923
Friday, 6:15 pm
Menu




The castle kitchen was too busy for what she needed. Matilda was in for a full day of cooking, which in this situation was both relaxing and nerve wracking. The elves would typically accommodate her hobby, eager to help with whatever she needed, but the menu she had in mind would be hours of work.

Thankfully, for the small price of a batch of apple crumble muffins, (Rose’s favorite), Professor Blackwood was letting Matilda work in the Applied Magic kitchen space. She had a full fridge of ingredients ready to go, two ovens pre-heating, a large pot of water boiling, a workstation filled with bowls, knives and spices. A stack of recipes sat aside with notes written in the margins: prep lists, times, when to start, etc.

The prep started the night before, working on the medovik honey cake, cutting vegetables, marinating meat, and kneading dough. She had lied to Drago, using Alice as an excuse, hoping he didn’t ask her about their girls' night. Working for a few hours the night before his birthday, then hours again the day of, this was the most extensive menu she had ever executed.

Hopefully it would all turn out.

When she made the cake for Serik, it was easy to wave it off as a nice gesture. This was not a simple birthday cake. This was weeks of planning, days of prep and hours of cooking. She wanted, more than anything, for him to enjoy the meal she had spent so much time making.

If there had been any question before today, now the answer would be clear. She liked him. Probably a lot, but that revelation would come in time.

The dinner was made of classic Russian dishes, none of which she had made in the past. Pelmeni, Borscht, Beef Stroganoff, Pirozhki and Borodinsky bread. Reading the recipes, the process seemed pretty straight forward. Nothing stood out as too difficult, other than the flavor profile and a few interesting cooking methods. Typically, when she cooked, she would taste the food, but in this case she had no idea what anything was supposed to taste like.

A recipe for disaster honestly.



As the time got closer, Matilda stepped away to change into a simple green dress with a bow collar. The dress skimmed just below the knee, in a flirty ruffled hem, while her hair tied in a long french braid hung over one shoulder. An apron tied around her waist showed signs of her day. Stains in various colors, a prelude to their menu.

Putting final touches on her dishes, Matilda moved around the kitchen with practiced ease. Cutting herbs, slicing bread, plating the dishes in an artful pleasing way. The Wizarding Wireless radio playing in the background, adding a soundtrack for her work. In dueling or spellwork her movements were jerky, unsure, sluggish, but in the greenhouse and kitchen Matilda was comfortable.

Moving around the space with grace, she reached for tools without looking, knowing just where she had left them. Stirring one post of boiling water while she lifted a spoon from another pot to taste. It was like a fluid dance, but she was the only one that knew the steps.

All the dishes were done, most already plated and in warming drawers. The mix of smells made her stomach rumble with hunger. Everything she had tasted was surprisingly good, especially the Firebird Ale. The non-alcoholic amber colored drink was a mix of crisp apples, juicy pears, plums, honey, and spices in a warm, comforting brew. Rich and lightly sparkling, from her research, it seemed to be a staple.

As Matilda cut the parsley to sprinkle on the stroganoff, she was swaying back and forth while humming quietly to the music, lost in her own world, she didn’t hear the door open and close behind her. The plan was to meet in the foyer outside the great hall at 6:30pm, but once again Drago had found her early.]]> <![CDATA[Notice Us || BOG]]> https://staging.knockturnbound.net/showthread.php?tid=1151 Sun, 12 Jul 2026 01:39:13 +0000 Morgan Barlowe]]> https://staging.knockturnbound.net/showthread.php?tid=1151 Saturday, 17 March 1923
Hogwarts Library
An hour past curfew
Morgan had a plan.

It wasn’t, if she were honest, a very good plan. But it was a plan, which was more than they’d had an hour ago when she’d shown up at the Ravenclaw common room entrance and told the knocker she wasn’t in the mood for riddles. Luckily another student had been going in, so she was able to tell them to retrieve Brooks Gerren for her, please.
Somehow it worked. Maybe it was because the Head of House was Morgan’s step-mum now, or because everyone knew she was lethal with a bag of rocks.

The library was dark past the main desk, the floating baubles casting a dim, watchful glow over the empty tables and orderly rows. Morgan had been here after curfew before – not often as she preferred being outside, though with the aurors around that had become increasingly more difficult, but enough to know the baubles were the main problem. They drifted. They watched. And they could bite.

Morgan may have mentioned that to Rook once, in the bookshop back before he had met the woman she described as unhinged.

She chose not to bring it up now.

“Right,” she whispered, stopping at the edge of the main aisle where the restricted section rope hung in the shadows. David was in her bag, very still, sensing the mission and doing his part by not drawing attention to himself.

“The baubles are the issue. If we move slowly enough they might not –” she stopped speaking immediately as one drifted directly toward her face. She didn’t move. She didn’t even breathe. Until it was past.

“– notice us,” she finished, slowly exhaling the breath she’d been holding.]]> Saturday, 17 March 1923
Hogwarts Library
An hour past curfew
Morgan had a plan.

It wasn’t, if she were honest, a very good plan. But it was a plan, which was more than they’d had an hour ago when she’d shown up at the Ravenclaw common room entrance and told the knocker she wasn’t in the mood for riddles. Luckily another student had been going in, so she was able to tell them to retrieve Brooks Gerren for her, please.
Somehow it worked. Maybe it was because the Head of House was Morgan’s step-mum now, or because everyone knew she was lethal with a bag of rocks.

The library was dark past the main desk, the floating baubles casting a dim, watchful glow over the empty tables and orderly rows. Morgan had been here after curfew before – not often as she preferred being outside, though with the aurors around that had become increasingly more difficult, but enough to know the baubles were the main problem. They drifted. They watched. And they could bite.

Morgan may have mentioned that to Rook once, in the bookshop back before he had met the woman she described as unhinged.

She chose not to bring it up now.

“Right,” she whispered, stopping at the edge of the main aisle where the restricted section rope hung in the shadows. David was in her bag, very still, sensing the mission and doing his part by not drawing attention to himself.

“The baubles are the issue. If we move slowly enough they might not –” she stopped speaking immediately as one drifted directly toward her face. She didn’t move. She didn’t even breathe. Until it was past.

“– notice us,” she finished, slowly exhaling the breath she’d been holding.]]> <![CDATA[Questionable Material :: Avery]]> https://staging.knockturnbound.net/showthread.php?tid=1149 Fri, 10 Jul 2026 03:02:45 +0000 Matilda Nordstrom]]> https://staging.knockturnbound.net/showthread.php?tid=1149
01 May 1923
7:15 pm



It was a toss up if he would show up. If he was serious, then any minute the boy would walk in the doors looking for information on plants. Dangerous plants… Poisonous plants.

At first, she thought it was more of a passing fancy. Something cool to tell his friends about. Wanting to research the dark and mysterious foliage that could cause great bodily harm. As time went on and the questions got more… specific, she was starting to think maybe this was more than just a passive interest.

Avery was eager. That was for sure. With a true Ravenclaw brain, a thirst for knowledge and the rabid energy of a relentless first year, it was really hard to tell him no. So she didn’t. Instead, she tried to steer him into less deadly paths. Anything she taught him was information readily available, she was just speeding up the process and supplying him with large amounts of knowledge.

It was probably fine.

There was a list of books in her pocket that would help fuel his hobby. A fire she felt on a daily basis. The list included some lesser known books that went into details about plants and their side effects when used in less than savory ways. How you could mask the flavor of some more bitter plants. And three books in the restricted section that would give recipes to potions that he had no business researching.

It was those that gave her pause, but she would see where the research took them…. If he showed up…]]>
01 May 1923
7:15 pm



It was a toss up if he would show up. If he was serious, then any minute the boy would walk in the doors looking for information on plants. Dangerous plants… Poisonous plants.

At first, she thought it was more of a passing fancy. Something cool to tell his friends about. Wanting to research the dark and mysterious foliage that could cause great bodily harm. As time went on and the questions got more… specific, she was starting to think maybe this was more than just a passive interest.

Avery was eager. That was for sure. With a true Ravenclaw brain, a thirst for knowledge and the rabid energy of a relentless first year, it was really hard to tell him no. So she didn’t. Instead, she tried to steer him into less deadly paths. Anything she taught him was information readily available, she was just speeding up the process and supplying him with large amounts of knowledge.

It was probably fine.

There was a list of books in her pocket that would help fuel his hobby. A fire she felt on a daily basis. The list included some lesser known books that went into details about plants and their side effects when used in less than savory ways. How you could mask the flavor of some more bitter plants. And three books in the restricted section that would give recipes to potions that he had no business researching.

It was those that gave her pause, but she would see where the research took them…. If he showed up…]]> <![CDATA[the past inside me ~ Rae]]> https://staging.knockturnbound.net/showthread.php?tid=1148 Thu, 09 Jul 2026 17:20:59 +0000 Maevie Golding]]> https://staging.knockturnbound.net/showthread.php?tid=1148 Sunday, 27 May 1923
2:38pm
It had been a slow shift. Once in a while a student would trickle in, complaining about this ache or that cut, but in the end, they all left after no more than ten minutes, healed from the minor inconveniences typical for a Sunday. A part of her wished something big would happen, something that’d take her mind of everything for even just a little while. A broken leg, a nasty case of some type of boils, hell she’d even take a first year projectile vomiting all over the wing if it meant her brain was allowed to think of anything other than exams for an hour.

But alas, the ward remained as quiet as it had been upon her arrival.

Maevie blew a long-suffering breath, pulling the last tincture from the back of the cabinet’s depth, checking for the date on the label. April 14th 1923. Automatically, she dropped it into the bin by her feet with a loud clang, piling on top of various other potions no longer usable.

It was one of her least favourite tasks of the Wing — going through every single thing on every single shelf all the time to see if something was expired or needed tidying up. It was mind-numbing, time consuming and boring, especially when she didn’t have anyone to chat to. Today, everyone seemed to be working in different corners and she’d been assigned the least fun of all. The storage room. Ugh.

Picking up the bin by one handle, Maevie half-carried, half-dragged the thing towards the sinks, needing to pour everything down the drain so they could reuse the bottles and jars. With lots of water though!

She had made an accidentally explosive concoction only once.

As she drew close, the sight of Rae also working by the sinks gave her heart a little leap. Maybe she’d have someone to talk to now at least! With a mighty grunt, Maevie heaved the bin onto the counter, beaming at the older girl.

“Hi, Rae! Slow today, isn’t it? Almost makes me wish for tomorrow, so exams would start.” She laughed nervously, not nearly as sincere as she’d intended to, a little wobbly around the edges. Her fingers tapped against the edge of the counter for a moment before she grabbed the first bottle from her bin, fidgeting with the lid. She had wanted a light-hearted conversation, a bit of fun, maybe some gossip, but suddenly something within pushed in a different direction entirely.

Whipping her head around to look at Rae, Maevie spoke before she could change her mind. "Can I— ask you something?"]]> Sunday, 27 May 1923
2:38pm
It had been a slow shift. Once in a while a student would trickle in, complaining about this ache or that cut, but in the end, they all left after no more than ten minutes, healed from the minor inconveniences typical for a Sunday. A part of her wished something big would happen, something that’d take her mind of everything for even just a little while. A broken leg, a nasty case of some type of boils, hell she’d even take a first year projectile vomiting all over the wing if it meant her brain was allowed to think of anything other than exams for an hour.

But alas, the ward remained as quiet as it had been upon her arrival.

Maevie blew a long-suffering breath, pulling the last tincture from the back of the cabinet’s depth, checking for the date on the label. April 14th 1923. Automatically, she dropped it into the bin by her feet with a loud clang, piling on top of various other potions no longer usable.

It was one of her least favourite tasks of the Wing — going through every single thing on every single shelf all the time to see if something was expired or needed tidying up. It was mind-numbing, time consuming and boring, especially when she didn’t have anyone to chat to. Today, everyone seemed to be working in different corners and she’d been assigned the least fun of all. The storage room. Ugh.

Picking up the bin by one handle, Maevie half-carried, half-dragged the thing towards the sinks, needing to pour everything down the drain so they could reuse the bottles and jars. With lots of water though!

She had made an accidentally explosive concoction only once.

As she drew close, the sight of Rae also working by the sinks gave her heart a little leap. Maybe she’d have someone to talk to now at least! With a mighty grunt, Maevie heaved the bin onto the counter, beaming at the older girl.

“Hi, Rae! Slow today, isn’t it? Almost makes me wish for tomorrow, so exams would start.” She laughed nervously, not nearly as sincere as she’d intended to, a little wobbly around the edges. Her fingers tapped against the edge of the counter for a moment before she grabbed the first bottle from her bin, fidgeting with the lid. She had wanted a light-hearted conversation, a bit of fun, maybe some gossip, but suddenly something within pushed in a different direction entirely.

Whipping her head around to look at Rae, Maevie spoke before she could change her mind. "Can I— ask you something?"]]> <![CDATA[A rough start.]]> https://staging.knockturnbound.net/showthread.php?tid=1142 Mon, 06 Jul 2026 02:06:06 +0000 June Hargrove]]> https://staging.knockturnbound.net/showthread.php?tid=1142 April 26th, after classes
Her blue eyes glanced around the greenhouse, as she notated who was present. Classes weren’t in session, and so the area was more scattered than typical. A small number of other students worked quietly, tending to plants or dirt plots and pots. Warily, the 2nd year Gryffindor grabbed an empty stool in an empty corner (but not empty of strange plants!) and sat down.

The heat was ever present, not to mention humidity. June tugged on the ends of her ponytailed sleek hair, lost in thought. Her return to Hogwarts was… Bad. There was no other way to describe it. She had only been back for a few days, and she felt as if she was an interloper.

In the last year, her whole world had been turned upside down.

Her beloved Mother and Father were caught facilitating an illegal and highly unethical magical creature poaching and trafficking ring. Her parents were stripped of their rights, their belongings and gold, leaving her and her older sister to be sent off to their Aunt Agatha. Her older brother, nowhere to be seen. Their ancient home, full of their history and memories, destroyed and desolate.

And to make it all worse, her sister had turned on her.

“I don’t understand her anymore…” June whispered, drawing odd shapes in the soil of the planter in front of her.

Her older sister was always studious and proud. She had always impressed upon June the importance of reputation, and bringing honor to the name of Hargrove. But the older girl still would soften for her little sister.

Not anymore. June’s only true ally had turned her back on her.

She only ever has the time to tell me how shameful I am. How it’s my duty to restore our reputation. , June thought to herself, miserably digging her fingers deeper and deeper into whatever planter she had posted against.]]> April 26th, after classes
Her blue eyes glanced around the greenhouse, as she notated who was present. Classes weren’t in session, and so the area was more scattered than typical. A small number of other students worked quietly, tending to plants or dirt plots and pots. Warily, the 2nd year Gryffindor grabbed an empty stool in an empty corner (but not empty of strange plants!) and sat down.

The heat was ever present, not to mention humidity. June tugged on the ends of her ponytailed sleek hair, lost in thought. Her return to Hogwarts was… Bad. There was no other way to describe it. She had only been back for a few days, and she felt as if she was an interloper.

In the last year, her whole world had been turned upside down.

Her beloved Mother and Father were caught facilitating an illegal and highly unethical magical creature poaching and trafficking ring. Her parents were stripped of their rights, their belongings and gold, leaving her and her older sister to be sent off to their Aunt Agatha. Her older brother, nowhere to be seen. Their ancient home, full of their history and memories, destroyed and desolate.

And to make it all worse, her sister had turned on her.

“I don’t understand her anymore…” June whispered, drawing odd shapes in the soil of the planter in front of her.

Her older sister was always studious and proud. She had always impressed upon June the importance of reputation, and bringing honor to the name of Hargrove. But the older girl still would soften for her little sister.

Not anymore. June’s only true ally had turned her back on her.

She only ever has the time to tell me how shameful I am. How it’s my duty to restore our reputation. , June thought to herself, miserably digging her fingers deeper and deeper into whatever planter she had posted against.]]> <![CDATA[Plant Doctor :: Rose]]> https://staging.knockturnbound.net/showthread.php?tid=1135 Sat, 04 Jul 2026 18:25:53 +0000 Matilda Nordstrom]]> https://staging.knockturnbound.net/showthread.php?tid=1135 03 April 1923
Tuesday, 4:30 pm


At the end of Defense Against the Dark Arts, Professor Blackwood approached Matilda with a question. It seemed that a few plants in her office were sick and needed attention. This wasn’t a rare question for Matilda. In fact, it was pretty common. After setting up an appointment for later that day, she went on her way and finished the day.

When classes were done, at 3pm, before her 4:30 meeting, Matilda needed to assemble a few things.

First, her plant kit. The simple carry-all had fertilizer, a small bag of soil, plant potions, gloves, and a number of different things that may help treat whatever issue that was plaguing her plants.

Next was a stop in the hospital wing for a stomach settling potion and tea. It seemed the baby Professor Blackwood was carrying was hell bent on making her sick. The potion would work when a powerful nausea came up, while the tea would hopefully keep the sickness at bay.

Last, because she couldn’t arrive without something sweet, she whipped up a quick batch of her apple crumble muffins. Rose’s favorite.

When she arrived at the office, the door was open so Matilda knocked quietly and walked in. “Hello Professor. I brought you a couple things.” Seeing Rose at the desk, she looked almost green with nausea. Hopefully the potion would help. “The potion should help with your queasiness, the tea as well. I brought you muffins too, but if the smell makes it worse I can leave them in the hall.”


The plant in question ended up being three once Matilda had a chance to look them over. Sitting on the window sill there were three pots with three different plants. A flutterby bush being the largest, had lush green leaves with purple blooms, but it wasn’t fluttering. When healthy, it fluttered constantly, even without the wind moving the leaves.

A smaller pot of mallowsweet looked almost normal, but on closer inspection the leaves were wilted and the color was all wrong.

Then, in a long planter was a very sick, almost dead looking spider plant. Which puzzled Matilda. Spider plants were nearly impossible to kill. If someone asked her what plant she would recommend for a novice, a spider plant was at the top of her list. She hadn’t touched the plants yet or looked up close, but she was excited to figure out the puzzle.

”I’m guessing these are the issue?’ Matilda asked, pointing at the plants in the window.]]> 03 April 1923
Tuesday, 4:30 pm


At the end of Defense Against the Dark Arts, Professor Blackwood approached Matilda with a question. It seemed that a few plants in her office were sick and needed attention. This wasn’t a rare question for Matilda. In fact, it was pretty common. After setting up an appointment for later that day, she went on her way and finished the day.

When classes were done, at 3pm, before her 4:30 meeting, Matilda needed to assemble a few things.

First, her plant kit. The simple carry-all had fertilizer, a small bag of soil, plant potions, gloves, and a number of different things that may help treat whatever issue that was plaguing her plants.

Next was a stop in the hospital wing for a stomach settling potion and tea. It seemed the baby Professor Blackwood was carrying was hell bent on making her sick. The potion would work when a powerful nausea came up, while the tea would hopefully keep the sickness at bay.

Last, because she couldn’t arrive without something sweet, she whipped up a quick batch of her apple crumble muffins. Rose’s favorite.

When she arrived at the office, the door was open so Matilda knocked quietly and walked in. “Hello Professor. I brought you a couple things.” Seeing Rose at the desk, she looked almost green with nausea. Hopefully the potion would help. “The potion should help with your queasiness, the tea as well. I brought you muffins too, but if the smell makes it worse I can leave them in the hall.”


The plant in question ended up being three once Matilda had a chance to look them over. Sitting on the window sill there were three pots with three different plants. A flutterby bush being the largest, had lush green leaves with purple blooms, but it wasn’t fluttering. When healthy, it fluttered constantly, even without the wind moving the leaves.

A smaller pot of mallowsweet looked almost normal, but on closer inspection the leaves were wilted and the color was all wrong.

Then, in a long planter was a very sick, almost dead looking spider plant. Which puzzled Matilda. Spider plants were nearly impossible to kill. If someone asked her what plant she would recommend for a novice, a spider plant was at the top of her list. She hadn’t touched the plants yet or looked up close, but she was excited to figure out the puzzle.

”I’m guessing these are the issue?’ Matilda asked, pointing at the plants in the window.]]> <![CDATA[Friction || Malia]]> https://staging.knockturnbound.net/showthread.php?tid=1134 Sat, 04 Jul 2026 13:11:57 +0000 Maddox Barlowe]]> https://staging.knockturnbound.net/showthread.php?tid=1134 Friday, January 11, 1923
7:30 PM
It had been a long week.

What he'd hoped they could discuss the morning after Julia had walked into the circus of a bedtime routine had stretched into a week of the woman deciding that they weren't on speaking terms. Maddox hadn't minded at first, if he allowed himself a moment of complete honesty. He'd dreaded the explanation and the implication that he'd somehow undermined her. The man hadn't wanted to have what might turn into an hours-long, emotionally charged conversation about what should have been and how else things could have been handled. His nerves had been fried. Jude had taken some time to fall asleep and had chosen to cry until then. By morning, he hadn't had enough of a brain left to teach his class, let alone assuage the ire his wife evidently still carried.

But now it had been nearly a week, and while Julia showed no signs of wanting to relent, Maddox wasn't of the mind that any marriage he was involved in should be one where the spouses didn't speak. They were in this together, and if they chose to continue being in it together, then there was no ignoring and pretending the other didn't exist outside of the times she dropped Jude off because of her attention being needed elsewhere in such a way that would make it difficult for him to tag along.

He never heard another word about Kathryn's situation, and asking the girl had only produced the basic answer that she wasn't sleeping in her mother's room. She'd shown up at his on the Monday night, but given the friction that already existed between him and her mother, it had been safer to gently suggest she return to Ravenclaw Tower and Julia's quarters. Had she? He didn't know. The girl was hardly talkative or inclined to share beyond what was asked, and what little he'd gathered from the portraits seemed to suggest the little girl had commandeered an old, disused classroom.

An exhausting child.

Jude remained with his wife during the nights; Evander had returned to his structured routine that typically saw him in bed by 8:30. Benji had failed his test for reasons that had nothing to do with staying up then still had to serve the detention for his sugar crimes.

The world, if he didn't look too closely, seemed to have returned to normal. The only difference? His wife had become icy. Everything about the way she carried herself made it clear that she didn't intend or desire to speak to him beyond matters concerning the children. It was the first, in all the years they'd known each other, that she'd turned such a side on him, and at first, it had completely taken him aback. The two had had many arguments, as any friends turned lovers turned spouses would, but this was very different.

It was hardly conducive to reconciliation.

Maddox entered the library after a final reminder to Evander that, on the inside, they used only their inside voices. He didn't take him with him to the library often, understanding that the boy was still too young and eager to constantly be in charge of his own reactions and volume. This night required it. It was too close to bedtime to leave him with either his siblings or the elves.

The pair found her at the front desk, behind a tall pile of books and a smaller pile of what looked like forms. By some sixth sense, Maddox could hear the scream before it erupted, cautioning the toddler with a "shhh," just seconds before Evander could erupt into a delighted squeal at the sight of his mother.

The 3-year-old animatedly clamped both hands over his mouth as he scurried around the edge of the desk to go give her a hug.

Maddox leaned against the desk, blue eyes trained on her as they travelled along her.

"Ready to talk?" He wasn't leaving until they did.]]> Friday, January 11, 1923
7:30 PM
It had been a long week.

What he'd hoped they could discuss the morning after Julia had walked into the circus of a bedtime routine had stretched into a week of the woman deciding that they weren't on speaking terms. Maddox hadn't minded at first, if he allowed himself a moment of complete honesty. He'd dreaded the explanation and the implication that he'd somehow undermined her. The man hadn't wanted to have what might turn into an hours-long, emotionally charged conversation about what should have been and how else things could have been handled. His nerves had been fried. Jude had taken some time to fall asleep and had chosen to cry until then. By morning, he hadn't had enough of a brain left to teach his class, let alone assuage the ire his wife evidently still carried.

But now it had been nearly a week, and while Julia showed no signs of wanting to relent, Maddox wasn't of the mind that any marriage he was involved in should be one where the spouses didn't speak. They were in this together, and if they chose to continue being in it together, then there was no ignoring and pretending the other didn't exist outside of the times she dropped Jude off because of her attention being needed elsewhere in such a way that would make it difficult for him to tag along.

He never heard another word about Kathryn's situation, and asking the girl had only produced the basic answer that she wasn't sleeping in her mother's room. She'd shown up at his on the Monday night, but given the friction that already existed between him and her mother, it had been safer to gently suggest she return to Ravenclaw Tower and Julia's quarters. Had she? He didn't know. The girl was hardly talkative or inclined to share beyond what was asked, and what little he'd gathered from the portraits seemed to suggest the little girl had commandeered an old, disused classroom.

An exhausting child.

Jude remained with his wife during the nights; Evander had returned to his structured routine that typically saw him in bed by 8:30. Benji had failed his test for reasons that had nothing to do with staying up then still had to serve the detention for his sugar crimes.

The world, if he didn't look too closely, seemed to have returned to normal. The only difference? His wife had become icy. Everything about the way she carried herself made it clear that she didn't intend or desire to speak to him beyond matters concerning the children. It was the first, in all the years they'd known each other, that she'd turned such a side on him, and at first, it had completely taken him aback. The two had had many arguments, as any friends turned lovers turned spouses would, but this was very different.

It was hardly conducive to reconciliation.

Maddox entered the library after a final reminder to Evander that, on the inside, they used only their inside voices. He didn't take him with him to the library often, understanding that the boy was still too young and eager to constantly be in charge of his own reactions and volume. This night required it. It was too close to bedtime to leave him with either his siblings or the elves.

The pair found her at the front desk, behind a tall pile of books and a smaller pile of what looked like forms. By some sixth sense, Maddox could hear the scream before it erupted, cautioning the toddler with a "shhh," just seconds before Evander could erupt into a delighted squeal at the sight of his mother.

The 3-year-old animatedly clamped both hands over his mouth as he scurried around the edge of the desk to go give her a hug.

Maddox leaned against the desk, blue eyes trained on her as they travelled along her.

"Ready to talk?" He wasn't leaving until they did.]]> <![CDATA[PLOT: The Sweet Collapse : Butterwand Black Market]]> https://staging.knockturnbound.net/showthread.php?tid=1130 Wed, 01 Jul 2026 00:56:41 +0000 The Narrator]]> https://staging.knockturnbound.net/showthread.php?tid=1130 30 March
Friday, 8:00pm

What started as a handful of students complaining in the dusty clocktower before Christmas, quietly escalated into something much more organized. As a group, students took on roles, jobs were delegated, inventory grew and sales skyrocketed. It took time, but the Butterwand Black Market’s business was booming.

While some students acquired the candy, others handled storage and inventory. Orders were placed within common rooms, classrooms and parchment passed quietly in the hallways. Coins changed hands with the expert slight of hand of a seasoned magician.

For a time, the business was very successful.

Of course, most businesses experienced setbacks.

The staff was relentless in their pursuit. Not only did they want to find the candy, but it was clear that a group of ambitious students was in the middle of the mayhem. The staff responded with determination with surprise inspections, dorms searched, trunks emptied, book bags turned out, mail was checked and the nooks and crannies of the castle searched. More than one hiding place was found and emptied.

The students adapted. Caches were relocated. Then moved again. And again.

One week a stash might be tucked behind loose stones in the dungeons. The next it had vanished beneath a floorboard, inside an enchanted teapot, or into a magically expanded knitting basket that no professor thought to inspect.

Not everyone escaped unscathed.

Several students found themselves caught carrying contraband.

Detentions became routine, with evenings spent writing letters home, cataloguing confiscated sweets, and assisting Professor Blackwood in the soul-crushing task of sorting and destroying thousands of pieces of candy.

The operation carried on regardless.

Meanwhile, beyond the castle walls, another battle was quietly unfolding.

Rather than simply destroying every sweet that crossed the school gates, Hogwarts staff began working directly with Butterwand & Co. Recipes were scrutinized, ingredients tested, suppliers questioned and the facilities searched in an effort to discover what had caused the candies’ unusual side effects. Their goal was not only to stop the black market, but to solve the problem at the source.

Weeks passed.

The investigation slowly began to uncover problems.

As production stopped and existing stock was confiscated a new problem emerged.

Supply.

The candy became increasingly hard to find. Butterwand & Co. no longer had stock while they switched suppliers and tested the product. The only candy left was hiding in dark corners of the castle and disappearing quickly.

The occasional Rainbow Pop Lolly or Velvet Cloud Truffle became the subject of whispered negotiations. Naturally, prices climbed. Steadily.

A single piece of candy could now fetch several Galleons, completed homework assignments, favors to be collected later, or secrets more valuable than money. The black market was no longer growing. Every remaining sweet had become worth its weight in gold.


((OOC: Welcome back to the Butterwand Black Market. During this meeting any number of things can happen. Fighting between members, discussions about stock levels, rumors of students selling regular candy and passing it off as B&C sweets, anger over hoarding, trying to plan the theft of the confiscated candy, etc. etc. etc. Any and all students are welcome. If you have questions please find Professor Blackwood.))]]> 30 March
Friday, 8:00pm

What started as a handful of students complaining in the dusty clocktower before Christmas, quietly escalated into something much more organized. As a group, students took on roles, jobs were delegated, inventory grew and sales skyrocketed. It took time, but the Butterwand Black Market’s business was booming.

While some students acquired the candy, others handled storage and inventory. Orders were placed within common rooms, classrooms and parchment passed quietly in the hallways. Coins changed hands with the expert slight of hand of a seasoned magician.

For a time, the business was very successful.

Of course, most businesses experienced setbacks.

The staff was relentless in their pursuit. Not only did they want to find the candy, but it was clear that a group of ambitious students was in the middle of the mayhem. The staff responded with determination with surprise inspections, dorms searched, trunks emptied, book bags turned out, mail was checked and the nooks and crannies of the castle searched. More than one hiding place was found and emptied.

The students adapted. Caches were relocated. Then moved again. And again.

One week a stash might be tucked behind loose stones in the dungeons. The next it had vanished beneath a floorboard, inside an enchanted teapot, or into a magically expanded knitting basket that no professor thought to inspect.

Not everyone escaped unscathed.

Several students found themselves caught carrying contraband.

Detentions became routine, with evenings spent writing letters home, cataloguing confiscated sweets, and assisting Professor Blackwood in the soul-crushing task of sorting and destroying thousands of pieces of candy.

The operation carried on regardless.

Meanwhile, beyond the castle walls, another battle was quietly unfolding.

Rather than simply destroying every sweet that crossed the school gates, Hogwarts staff began working directly with Butterwand & Co. Recipes were scrutinized, ingredients tested, suppliers questioned and the facilities searched in an effort to discover what had caused the candies’ unusual side effects. Their goal was not only to stop the black market, but to solve the problem at the source.

Weeks passed.

The investigation slowly began to uncover problems.

As production stopped and existing stock was confiscated a new problem emerged.

Supply.

The candy became increasingly hard to find. Butterwand & Co. no longer had stock while they switched suppliers and tested the product. The only candy left was hiding in dark corners of the castle and disappearing quickly.

The occasional Rainbow Pop Lolly or Velvet Cloud Truffle became the subject of whispered negotiations. Naturally, prices climbed. Steadily.

A single piece of candy could now fetch several Galleons, completed homework assignments, favors to be collected later, or secrets more valuable than money. The black market was no longer growing. Every remaining sweet had become worth its weight in gold.


((OOC: Welcome back to the Butterwand Black Market. During this meeting any number of things can happen. Fighting between members, discussions about stock levels, rumors of students selling regular candy and passing it off as B&C sweets, anger over hoarding, trying to plan the theft of the confiscated candy, etc. etc. etc. Any and all students are welcome. If you have questions please find Professor Blackwood.))]]> <![CDATA[TEST PREP :: OPEN]]> https://staging.knockturnbound.net/showthread.php?tid=1127 Sat, 27 Jun 2026 16:49:07 +0000 Matilda Nordstrom]]> https://staging.knockturnbound.net/showthread.php?tid=1127 07 May 1923
Monday, 7:30pm
OWLs & NEWTs begin 14 May
Class Finals Begin 28 May


The exams were coming. OWLs, NEWTs and class finals. Tension was rising, you could feel it in the air. Students looked haggard. Eyes were red with exhaustion, many had taken to drinking copious amounts of coffee to keep them awake. The library was a warzone of discarded parchment, broken quills, towers of books used for reports, studying and research.

On more than one occasion Matilda had woken up a student who passed out in the middle of studying, which usually resulted in a loud exclamation of surprise. Only once had she been hit after the student awoke in shock, as one does, she learned from the experience and used a broom handle to wake the rest.

As a Lead Library Assistant, this was a busy time for her. Helping students find the books they needed, returning books that were left stacked in every corner of the large space, kicking out students who ignored the no eating or drinking rules and her least favorite, inexperienced therapist for those going through nervous breakdowns.

They had one week before NEWTs and OWLs began. Most tables were occupied with at least one student, but in the quieter corners, a few spots were left vacant. For the older students, that required silence, Matilda would escort them to the tucked away spots, getting them away from the hordes of younger students that didn’t understand the gravity of the tests coming.

Thankfully, she was a 6th year so all she had to worry about were her classes. Her OWLs the previous term had been brutal. No doubt her NEWTs would be the same. She was even contemplating less volunteering to focus on her studying, but the idea of not working in the Library or Hospital Wing just seemed wrong... and leaving the greenhouse would be unthinkable.

Standing at the check-in desk, Matilda waited for the next student to enter who needed assistance. It was quiet for all of three minutes, which meant it wouldn’t last much longer.]]> 07 May 1923
Monday, 7:30pm
OWLs & NEWTs begin 14 May
Class Finals Begin 28 May


The exams were coming. OWLs, NEWTs and class finals. Tension was rising, you could feel it in the air. Students looked haggard. Eyes were red with exhaustion, many had taken to drinking copious amounts of coffee to keep them awake. The library was a warzone of discarded parchment, broken quills, towers of books used for reports, studying and research.

On more than one occasion Matilda had woken up a student who passed out in the middle of studying, which usually resulted in a loud exclamation of surprise. Only once had she been hit after the student awoke in shock, as one does, she learned from the experience and used a broom handle to wake the rest.

As a Lead Library Assistant, this was a busy time for her. Helping students find the books they needed, returning books that were left stacked in every corner of the large space, kicking out students who ignored the no eating or drinking rules and her least favorite, inexperienced therapist for those going through nervous breakdowns.

They had one week before NEWTs and OWLs began. Most tables were occupied with at least one student, but in the quieter corners, a few spots were left vacant. For the older students, that required silence, Matilda would escort them to the tucked away spots, getting them away from the hordes of younger students that didn’t understand the gravity of the tests coming.

Thankfully, she was a 6th year so all she had to worry about were her classes. Her OWLs the previous term had been brutal. No doubt her NEWTs would be the same. She was even contemplating less volunteering to focus on her studying, but the idea of not working in the Library or Hospital Wing just seemed wrong... and leaving the greenhouse would be unthinkable.

Standing at the check-in desk, Matilda waited for the next student to enter who needed assistance. It was quiet for all of three minutes, which meant it wouldn’t last much longer.]]>