Welcome to Charming, where swirling petticoats, the language of flowers, and old-fashioned duels are only the beginning of what is lying underneath…
After a magical attempt on her life in 1877, Queen Victoria launched a crusade against magic that, while tidied up by the Ministry of Magic, saw the Wizarding community exiled to Hogsmeade, previously little more than a crossroad near the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. In the years that have passed since, Hogsmeade has suffered plagues, fires, and Victorian hypocrisy but is still standing firm.
Thethe year is now 1895. It’s time to join us and immerse yourself in scandal and drama interlaced with magic both light and dark.
Complete a thread started and set every month for twelve consecutive months. Each thread must have at least ten posts, and at least three must be your own.
Did You Know?
Did you know? Jewelry of jet was the haute jewelry of the Victorian era. — Fallin
Losing an entirely month was quite bad enough but Belle thought she might just about be equal to the task of reconciling herself to it were it not the case that she also had to answer questions about it all. It had been interesting, between bouts of fear, but hers had not even been the successful group and still she had not been able to walk from one side of the hall to the other without being waylaid to describe what a water buffalo looked like when charging.
Perhaps she was simply a novelty? Were there any other women of her class that had been amongst the groups? She could not recall but doubted it, and there certainly hadn’t been any amongst the victorious group, who looked like they had as much comprehension of what was expected of them as she did.
Finally, after an attempt to detail the hieroglyphics inside the pyramid had led to her simply describing various birds she knew, Belle finally reached the refreshment stand and was relived to find a friendlier face.
“I don’t think I’ve ever been so popular,” she quipped to the young man, taking up a glass of champagne. Merlin, the light of the ballroom he looked even younger than he had in Irvingly.
Unlike many of the expedition goers, Finnian had not at all been disappointed by the loss of a month. It was one less month in his existence that he had to deal with his overbearing family and overbearing job - not that he was any less relieved to be back to them. He'd returned to work with much more gratitude than his position than he'd had in the years before. The past decade of his life had been spent mulling over the fact that he'd been ousted from the auror program before he'd gotten the chance to prove his worth, and now he was sure that he would have never stood a chance against a dark wizard actively looking to slaughter him if he couldn't stand the insentient elements.
A man who enjoyed praise, he also enjoyed the attention he'd been receiving at the reception that day. He had a natural inclination towards dramatics, and had become quite the storyteller - at least until some of the cynics in the crowd started pointing out the inconsistencies in his tales. He'd tried to explain himself until he finally just rolled his eyes, waved a dismissive hand, and started towards the refreshments table with a wide grin across his face.
If he'd thought his day couldn't get any better, he was wrong. He was soon joined by a very familiar, very welcome face from the expedition: Mrs. Bones. She looked far more elegant than she had while hiking through Irvingly, and it was also apparent that she was a mature woman (which, frankly, made her even hotter).
"That's a crying shame," he flirted lightly, taking a champagne glass in his own hand. "A woman of your capability -" And beauty. "- deserves all the attention in the world."
She raised an amused eyebrow, immediately recognising the tone of voice that accompanied his compliment. Apparently outside of life and death situations he was also quite the flirt, though Belle couldn’t say she was especially surprised. He was, after all, a handsome young man from a…reasonably good family and she doubted he struggled to find young ladies willing to entertain his company.
Especially given the attention they were enduring at the moment. It wasn’t at all to her tastes but he seemed to be enjoying it quite a bit more and she supposed there was a novelty to being popular. She had managed about a fortnight of it after she debuted before her marriage to Henry had saved her the awkwardness of being so on display: unlike certain of her sisters she had never flourished under attention.
“The world can keep it,” she retorted with a chuckle, taking a grateful sip of her champagne, enjoying this aspect of the party a great deal more than others. Her job being the way it was she so rarely got a chance to enjoy herself, but all was well at the moment, she could afford a little indulgence. “Or you can have my share. You seem to have all the young ladies hanging on your every word.”
As she spoke, he had to subtlety bite his lip to prevent his smile from widening even more. Finny rarely had the chance to truly know the women he paid attention to - they either left, or he left, before much could come of an acquaintanceship - but there was something very exciting about trying to figure a woman out.
A woman, he thought, because Mrs. Bones was just that. She was not some silly schoolgirl that was hanging off any gentleman willing to tell her a tale from the expedition; she was here, at the refreshments table, being oh-so-endearing with her confession that she did not enjoy the attention as much as the others.
"There's nothing wrong with accepting due praise," he countered, "but I've always felt that attention earned is better than attention freely given." Hence why handling roves of debutantes searching for a heroic husband was less exciting than, say, chasing a gorgeous widow hiding in the corner.
"You were very good out there. Not everyone can keep their head screwed on tight in the midst of chaos." She was, of course, a healer, but chaos in the emergency room was different than on the field. Merlin, she'd done better than him - not that he'd admit such a thing - and he was in the auror training program for two years!
It had been far, far too long since anybody had paid her even the slightest attention outside of her familiar or professional life and, though she wasn’t one to enjoy the mass staring the expedition to Irvingly had brought upon her, Mr Byrne was quite another story. He meant nothing by it, she was much older than him after all and he was likely just flattering her, but it was pleasant nevertheless. And he was quite right: earning one’s pleasures was a great deal more rewarding and Belle did so like to excel at being worthy.
“There is no need to sound quite so impressed Mr Byrne, we ladies are rather more use than gentleman seem to think,” she replied, eyes filled with mirth as she took a sip of her champagne, her lips curling up ruefully. “On the other hand I seem to recall spending much of the time hiding behind a bush and reaching the casino mostly by sheer dumb luck. I doubt I’ll be drafted for an expedition to the Valley of the Kings in the near future. And I am quite sure,” she added with a teasing tilt of her head, feigning consideration. “I was not the only one.”
Finnian grinned widely this time, unable to help himself. Mrs. Bones obviously knew very little of the roles women played in his family - or lack thereof, considering most were not expected (or even encouraged sometimes!) to be idle little housewives - and so could not grasp the extent of his compliment.
"I assure you your sex had little to do wit my compliment," he said, taking a sip of his drink. If it was, she'd have to compete with Maeve The Auror and Dublin The Unspeakable, two fearless (and sometimes fear-inducing) women. Fortunately, Finnian did not desire any woman who reminded him of either cousin in any way.
"And I may have succeeded in ensuring our survival in the zoo," as anyone would have been stupid to face the gator and water buffalo without armor, "but you were far more useful than I once inside the casino. You're very good at keeping your wits about you; it's very admirable."
Though not particularly convinced that she had been that useful – even the moments where she might have used her expertise had been marred by indecision and a great deal of second-guessing herself – she still thought it was kind of him to say so. She had spent the vast majority of her professional career caught between men that thought healing was no job for a woman and those that patronised her for getting even the slightest thing right.
It was rather refreshing to be around somebody who flattered because he wanted to. It had been a long time. though not so long that she thought it wise to let slip that she thought her sex actually had a great deal to do with his compliment
“I suppose in a busy hospital one becomes accustomed to quick-thinking,” she conceded, allowing the compliment at last. “The men I work with would hardly have let me rise so far if I could not match them step-for-step.”
In the few days Finnian had been home, he'd collected a bit of data about his fellow expedition-goers, but he admittedly knew very little of Mrs. Bones' life outside of her hospital career and family life (both of which he'd only heart about through train chatter). He struggles, her hopes, her dreams - all were unknown to Finny, but that mystery only drove him to push further in his attempts to charm her. (What was more of a challenge than charming a woman who was not only older and wealthier than him, but also more powerful? It was a thrill, really.)
"Jealousy, I'm sure," he responded, unable to keep a smile off his face. (Would he be more alluring if he could keep a calm, cool demeanor like her? He supposed it didn't matter, anyways; it wasn't as if he could even if he wanted to.) "An average man's ego will go a long way to undermine a woman's ability." As opposed to him, a not-so-average man. "No, a real man can look a woman in the eye and see her value for what it's truly worth." It wasn't very subtle, but subtlety was not a gene that ran in the Byrne family.
Belle had been determined to remain pristinely nonplussed in the face of this blatant flirting but Mr Byrne – she would give him credit – continued on with such effulgence that she was slightly surprised, and that was not a feeling she’d had about any man in a very long time. The few that bothered to talk to her were usually older, looking for a replacement wife and assuming she was in the market for a new husband to look after her; they flattered a little but usually lost interest when the subject of her profession came up.
“You’re rather more progressive than I gave you credit for Mr Byrne,” she replied, not unkindly, taking a thoughtful sip of her champagne. She knew essentially nothing about his family, apart from their being a cousin who worked at the hospital too, but it certainly threw up an interesting possibility. Or else he really was just a very accomplished flirt, which she hadn’t entirely discredited as a notion, but she had to doff her hat to him as, whichever was true, he did it with great conviction.
“Do tell me what else a real man can do won’t you?” She asked playfully, a quirk on her lips as she looked him right in the eyes, feeling rather more reckless than usual and putting it down entirely to having survived an ordeal together.
In truth, Finnian was perhaps the most apolitical lawyer to ever be employed by the Ministry; he fell into line with whatever belief system kept him in good graces with his employer, lest he find himself ousted from his position and forever a failure in his eyes of his family. However, staring at the beautiful Mrs. Bones' sly grin, Finny would have aligned as progressive, conservative, communist, anarchist - whatever. All that mattered was that she liked him, and that was looking at him in a way that sent his heart into overdrive.
(It was such a powerful, exciting feeling that he wondered if it was similar to the effects of a love potion. If so, he might as well be immune to them altogether, as they were no match for his true feelings!)
Finnian took a daring step forward, bringing his glass to hover in front of his mouth. "A real man can do - be - whatever a woman needs him to be," he responded, his voice growing quiet for a moment as his gaze flickered between her brown eyes and lips. Then, almost if nothing had happened, he straightened his back, took a sip, and glanced towards the group gathered near the center of the room.
"Do you live in Hogsmeade, Mrs. Bones?" he asked. Surely she had to - most people who worked at Hogsmeade Hospital did! "If so, perhaps you'll allow me to escort you home after the reception."
That was perhaps a little too bold for Belle and her mind instinctively and inexorably considered how it would look to everybody who saw they leave together and not instead to whether she wanted him to escort her home, which was the much more pertinent question. But she couldn’t allow herself to think about it. If she did then…well, she might have to give serious thought to him and at the moment she was so enjoying his flirtatious manners and considering their implications would ruin it entirely.
“Oh I don’t think that would be an especially wise idea Mr Byrne,” she replied demurely, a smile still on her features – he seemed rather taken with it and she simply could not help herself it seemed. He couldn’t be serious of course, she was hardly a real prospect such a young man would consider, though she had not entirely consigned herself to widowhood just yet, but with four children, a profession and her advance age…
“Not that I would be opposed to it but…well, you understand I’m sure.”
He did have soft hands, she recalled in a baffling moment of clarity. Much more so than she had expected. “I need you to be the sort of man that understands,” she added significantly, glancing towards the same group of people, wondering what they were saying about them even now.
His smile did not falter at her response. It was not unexpected for a woman to have such reservations, but time and effort they would surely fade, right? After all, it wasn't improper to be walked home by a gentleman (although, considering the numerous eyes on them at the moment, it might look like something more).
"I would never dream of making you uncomfortable," he agreed, though a pointed look towards the crowd made it clear that he only ceased his advances for the sake of her reputation. Despite her rejection, she didn't seem any less comfortable with him than she'd been before. (In fact, he reckoned that she might have agreed if they weren't in the middle of a highly publicized event. Maybe if he could find another way to see her, somehow..)
"I understand," he said, "that the hospital is still full of patients recovering from fog-related injuries. My cousin works there." In her department, he realized. "I visit him for lunch sometimes..." A smile touched his lips. He hoped she understood his intentions—that there would be more time to see each other, in inconspicuous settings without fear of gossips spying on their every move.
He couldn’t truly mean to visit her could he? Mr Byrne was a charming young man, but he was just that, a young man – though not absurdly so, she recalled with a pang of irritation – and a flirtation borne of shared camaraderie was one thing, if he sought her out properly then what? More of the same in all probability and really, would that be so awful?
He would be at the hospital to visit his cousin, after all, so it wasn’t as though he would be visiting her specifically and oh dear Merlin she was giving all of this far too much thought! He was being gentlemanly and she was being an old fool.
“Well, should he ever find himself called away you need only find my office if you require company.”
Beguilingly she felt her mouth run dry and she became horribly aware of the fact that they were both still stood next to the refreshment stand and she had drank her glass of champagne seemingly without noticing. She definitely needed another. Turning her face away she picked out another glass and determinately didn’t meet his eye as she took a fortifying sip.
“Perhaps don’t ask him to point you in the right direction though?”
Fiendfyre would travel around the Hospital at a slower rate than gossip.
Despite trying his best to hide behind his champagne flute, the grin that spread on his lips in response to her words was easily visible. While he doubted he would actively go out of his way to seek her out (which would mean bothering his cousin to the point where lunches with him were unwelcome, and Finley was a bridge between him and Mrs. Bones he didn't wish to burn), he was sure he'd stop when the opportunity was available.
"I'm sure I can manage on my own," he teased. Whether those ways were anymore discreet had yet to be seen; surely people often asked to see the ward's healer-in-charge, though! He just needed to find creative ways of asking—that, or he could wander the halls of the Magical Bugs ward until he stumbled across the office in question.
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