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 1894. It’s time to join us and immerse yourself in scandal and drama interlaced with magic both light and dark.
Miss Rawlinson was trying on a handsome pair of gloves earlier which obviously required her to remove her own in order to try them for size. While her gloves sat unattended, a small urchin spotted an opportunity as she passed the shop and stole them. She stole a cake from a stall only moments later but was caught in the act. In her mad dash to get away she dropped the gloves.
Enter Charles Caulfield. Spotting the white gloves, he picked them up and found them to be of good quality. Hoping to reuinite them with their owner, he keeps hold of them.
Miss Rawlinson realizes her gloves are missing. The shop assistant is at a loss and deeply apologetic - she also wishes her co-worker Marjory hadn't taken the day off and left her to man the shop alone. Miss Rawlinson buys a replacement pair for propriety's sake. Upon exiting the shop with her new gloves, she almost doesn't notice Mr. Caulfield until she spots a pair of suspiciously familiar gloves in his hands. What sort of pervert would steal a lady's gloves?!
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A day of shopping was always nice. Part of her had wondered if she should have invited Cupcake along. The poor dear had just lost her grandmother after all. Even if her friend was in mourning, Margaret would hope that her guardian would allow her to spend some quality time with a friend to help ease her mind. Shopping was a good way to escape certain stresses that life had to offer, even if it was for a brief time. Alas, she did remind herself that it was likely better to leave her friend be for now.
After looking at some rather lovely gloves, she turned to her chaperone, but not before spotting the empty spot where her own gloves had once been. Gasping in shock, she looked back at the spot. After trying to request some answers from the shop employee and receiving none, she bought the gloves that she had been gazing upon previously and putting them on immediately. At least she was considering buying them anyway.
What sort of person would snatch a ladies gloves? How rude and... completely inappropriate. The thought brought discomfort to the debutante. Looking over her new ones with mixed feelings, she almost hadn't caught glimpse of what appeared to be her other gloves in... oh, she didn't recognize him. Flustered and unable to bring herself to stop staring with wide eyes, her chaperone had to gently shake her to get the brunette's attention. With a brief glance to acknowledge her chaperone, none of the fellow woman's words actually registered with Margaret's distracted mind. Instead, Margaret looked back to the man while trying to decide what on earth she was going to do about this.
It was that time again. The most wonderful time of the day!
Charles had been allowed to have a quick break from work. There wasn't much to do and so he elected to head to Diagon Alley to browse the selection of owls for a certain someone. After picking out the kind of owl he wanted, Charles left to head toward Gringotts to buy it do he could take it home and train it some before giving it to Emmeline.
He was on his way in his own little world when some scruffy looking girl grab a cake. He immediately reprimanded her though she ran off before he could do much else. Charles shrugged it off and took a few steps forward before noticing a pair of white gloves on the floor. He reached down and picked them up before looking around.
Nobody.
No one was claiming them.
Had the urchin dropped them? Stolen them?
So instead he went to head toward the nearest shop he could when a young girl and her chaperone came into view. She looked shocked and Charles chuckled, rolling his eyes.
Okay. He knew this looked bad.
"These yours, Miss?" He asked politely and officially, his Ministry insignia prominent on his uniform, "They must have been dropped or," He looked back toward where the urchin had ran off to before turning back to the girl, "Someone had stolen them. I'm ever so sorry - I'll see to it the urchin is caught."
Of course, he was lying. He didn't care that much. But his tone was honest and his job was all about honesty
Well, she had been spotted in her shocked state. As he spoke, she noticed the Ministry insignia and relaxed slightly. Hopefully he was being honest, as it seemed he was. She highly doubted that the Ministry would hire a thief. Especially one of ladies clothing. How shocking that would be, were that to have been the true case.
Coming to her senses, she nodded. "Yes they are. Thank you." She replied. Part of her wondered as to why the thief stole them in the first place. Nodding slightly to him saying he would catch the thief, she had no reason to think he was lying about the intention to catch them.
Charles nodded and held out the gloves, "Well here you go, Miss. You ought to keep a closer eye on your possessions."
Truthfully he didn't care if she did or not; she was of no consequence to him. There were only a few people who mattered to him at the one person at the forefront of his mind was her. Miss Woodcroft.
But irrespective of that, he was in his Ministry robes and had to present himself as a Ministry employee. His smile was sincere; his tone authoritative.
"The streets can be dangerous - so do be watchful. Would you like me to walk you to where you're headed? I'm sure I can ensure nobody tries to take your gloves again," Charles chuckled a little and gestured down the street before they could respond, signalling for the girl and her chaperone to begin walking.
One would think that a shop would be safe from thieves. At least, in an area like this. It seemed too nice to have thieves stealing gloves at random. "I will, thank you." She said, taking her gloves from his hands with a polite nod to him.
Part of her was tempted to simply state that she was fine with her chaperone. But another part of her felt that it was best to stay on the safe side. "Yes please. My chaperone and I are headed home. I'm sure the day has been filled with enough adventure for us." She replied as she began walking with him. Catching the positive nod from her chaperone to her words, that confirmed her thoughts on the matter.
At her words, Charles nodded and gestured for them to move onward. He wasn’t about to put a bad name to the Ministry – to his name – for the sake of a glove. Even if it was clear as day that he’d not stolen the glove, most people wouldn’t have seen it that way. They’d sooner point fingers and find gossip where there was one than see a man handing a woman back her glove.
“I understand,” He replied solemnly, “Adventure is all very well – unless there is, of course, far too much of it. Then it becomes meddlesome.”
Truth be told Charles Caulfield rather enjoyed adventure. It was kind of a required predisposition to his job, really. It was quite the given that his job entailed a fair bit of adventure and so he hopped at the opportunity – most times – to get involved.
This, he thought, wasn’t much of an adventure. Handing a woman a glove was definitely not his idea of fun though women, with their somewhat strange temperament, always seemed to think simply making tea an adventure.
Once they’d began their walk, Charles decided to start some idle chatter, “In spite of the glove thief, have you enjoyed your soirée into the shops?” He asked with a soft smile.
Surely if people saw him give her back her glove, they had also seen her previous flusterment beforehand. It wasn't as if they had been talking for a long time beforehand. She was sure that she still looked slightly flustered at the whole situation. Not to mention that she did have her chaperone at her side.
"I was not raised as one that is accustomed to much adventure. Perhaps another would be far more inclined to simply enjoy their day as if nothing happened." She stated thoughtfully, glancing at her chaperone. Poor dear, the woman was also still flustered.
As a Gryffindor, she did know some peers that were far more fond of adventure. Even some ladies. She was not one of them. Having never wanted to be considered a disappointment in her parents eyes. "It has been a nice day. Not too much shopping, but enough to pass the time. Mother will likely wish to host a dinner at some point, even if those in Hogsmeade and Irvingly cannot join." She responded with a polite and respectful smile.
Succinct and to the point, Charles mused. This girl had been raised quite well; as was becoming apparent by how she was speaking and the way her dark brown eyes fluttered to and from her chaperone. To what end Charles wasn’t too sure though he quickly surmised it was to ensure she was not talking out of place.
Even if she was speaking out of turn, Charles didn’t mind too much. He was much more inclined to find genuine and organic conversation engaging. He didn’t like saying certain things because that was the way society told him to - though he did it. Society told him to. He’d complain about the way society was all he wanted but he was not going to stray from it and risk his future.
“Adventure is not for everyone, I’d agree, Miss, Charles said politely before asking about her trip to the shops.
She was quick to respond with an ever respectful tone to which Charles responded with his own smile, “I’m glad to hear you’ve had a nice day. A dinner party? That does sound quite interesting – much less adventure,” He mused jokingly, “I’m sure the fog ought to clear up soon.”
Margaret was concerned over wondering just how stressed out her poor chaperone was. It was certainly an uncomfortable situation. To have courage and be kind, that was something that she repeatedly told herself. Perhaps the courage part was one reason as to why she was a Gryffindor. While not one for adventure, that didn't mean she wasn't one for bravery.
Describing her time at the shops, it hadn't taken too long. Not much to talk about without being boring to one whom she assumed was not too interested in the details of shopping. "Mother was devastated to learn about the chaos of the fog, more over the chaos it has caused for the social season. I'm not as concerned. I'm sure everything shall turn out fine." She responded. Sometimes she felt that her mother needed to relax at least a little. It wasn't as if Margaret was anywhere near the age of a spinster.
Charles nodded toward the girl. The fog had been nothing but a pain in Charles’ backside. It was irritating and caused a lot of unnecessary work for the entire Law Enforcement department.
“I’m sure it will,” He said as they approached a corner toward a residential road, “The Ministry is working diligently to get everything put back to order as soon as we can.”
Ministry matters were certainly not a topic that she was the best at discussing. Hopefully her future husband would not mind. The future was filled with the unknown. She missed Hogwarts already.
Nodding to his statement, it wasn't as if she had any reason to believe otherwise regarding his statement. "Well, perhaps my mother will not be as panicked next season." She commented, tilting her head as she thought for a moment on her own comment. It would certainly be nice if her mother would calm down.
“I’m sure she won’t be,” Charles began before offering a quick and soft smile toward the girl, “The ministry will figure out what is causing it and take measures to prevent it happening again. I can assure you of that.”
Once they’d stopped at some residential street, Charles smiled and gestured toward the dimly lit row of houses, “Is this your street then, Miss? Which house is it? I’ll see you there and then I shall continue my duties.”
Nodding calmly, it was nice to hear such things from a Ministry official. "Thank you." She said with her own smile.
Looking around at casually at each of the homes, it was a welcome sight. "Yes it is. My home is just over there." Lightly gesturing at her home which wasn't a far distance away.
"Miss Rawlinson, I would like to remind you that your sister wished to speak to you before dinner." Her chaperone stated. Margaret nodded as she remembered her little sister making such a request. Though she wasn't sure what it was about. "Yes, thank you for the reminder." She responded politely.
