Charming is a Victorian Era Harry Potter roleplay set primarily in the village of Hogsmeade, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and the non-canon village of Irvingly. Characters of all classes, both magical and muggle — and even non-human! — are welcome.

With a member driven story line, monthly games and events, and a friendly and drama-free community focused on quality over quantity, the only thing you can be sure of is fun!
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    01.11 I've got a bit of a reputation...
    01.06 AC underway, and a puzzle to solve!
    01.01 Happy new year! Have some announcements of varying importance.
    12.31 Enter the Winter Labyrinth if you dare!
    12.23 Professional Quidditch things...
    12.21 New stamp!
    12.20 Concerning immortality
    12.16 A heads up that the Secret Swap deadline is fast approaching!
    12.14 Introducing our new Minister of Magic!
    12.13 On the first day of Charming, Kayte gave to me...
    12.11 Some quick reminders!
    12.08 Another peek at what's to come...
    12.05 It's election day! OOC, at least.
    12.04 We have our PW winners for November!
    12.02 New Skins! In less exciting news, the AC is underway.
    11.27 AC Saturday and election next week!
    11.21 A glimpse at post-move changes.
    11.13 This news is not at all big. Do not bother with it.
    One for the team
    Private Thread 
    Not for the first time that day, Delight almost went flying, sans broom. Her (admittedly small) growth spurt over the winter had meant her summer dresses had needed altering before the spring, and given she was to turn 16 in a matter of months, Nanny had just dropped the hem to floor length to save the effort later on. It had only been that morning she had noticed the alterations, when it was the first properly warm weekend day to justify unpacking a lighter dress, which had then almost launched her tripping down the grand staircase as she had hurried to breakfast. Ankle length dresses were one thing, robes that hit the toe she could deal with, but layers of skirts right to the floor? If she made it to the end of the week, it would be a miracle.

    “Perhaps this is some sort of selection thing.” She said, righting herself and managing to grab the book she had gotten up for off the shelf. She picked up her skirts to shuffle back to her seat, flopping down into the safety of the chair opposite Mr Turner. “If you’re not ladylike enough to manage proper dresses you break your neck before there’s a risk of you entering society.” 

    Delight opened the volume she had fetched and began running her finger down the list of contents, looking for the charm she was meant to be writing her essay on. “Suppose it would get me out of my OWLS- d’you reckon if I broke my neck in front of everyone you’d all get an O as a sympathy mark?”

    @Benjamin Turner
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    If you had asked Benjamin Turner upon his first day of school if his preferred study partner would one day be a girl, he would have laughed uncomfortably to your face. In fairness, a great deal had changed since then, enough so that studying with Miss Urquart had become almost a favored pastime, for she was truly as sharp and delightful company as her name might imply.

    There was also a chance he had a slight crush on the dark Hufflepuff, but Ben was steadfastly ignoring that particular fly in the ointment.

    Though she was still shorter than Ben’s own meagre five feet, four inches, her recent growth spurt had made her rather entertaining to watch, though the prefect wondered if he shouldn’t get Madam Clearwater to school him in first aid, lest she break her nose in a tumble. He failed in his efforts to feign concentration on his work as she returned to their table, relieved when Delight herself lapsed into humour, sparing him the trouble.

    “I cannot speak to the secret ways of the young ladies of our society,” he reminded his friend, “but I can say that Headmaster Black would surely not allow the examiners to do that—though he might dock some points from Hufflepuff for your proving a distraction.”

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    The Hufflepuff rolled her eyes at the thought. “I wouldn’t be surprised!” She’d probably also be expelled posthumously, if that was such a thing- or maybe she’d come back as a ghost, and spend the rest of eternity disturbing exams. “There goes my chance to be a romantically tragic damsel, and patron saint of everyone at risk of flunking their exams.”

    She opened the book and began running a finger down the list of contents. “Are there such things as anti-clumsiness charms?” She joked.
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    “If you would have let me experiment on you when I’d asked,” Ben reminded the witch dryly, “there might have been by now. To think, your sense of self-preservation should deny the debutantes of the future the safety of knowing they will not fall down the stairs at their debut! Though,” he added devilishly, “it’s never too late to try.”

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    “Alas, how selfish of me!” Delight laughed. “I could have spared poor Miss Beauregard.” She grinned. “I suppose it is also not too late for Ravenclaw to lose points should a rather experimental student accidentally curse the minister’s daughter to a life of wobbling like a jelly.”
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    “You wound me!” Ben exclaimed. “I am a far better scientist than that—even if I did ruin you, I should surely find a way to put you to rights quickly. After all, I wasn’t blue for particularly long before I sorted that out.”

    It occurred then to the fifth year that when asking someone, however half-heartedly, to play guinea pig, it was perhaps not the best idea to note prior failings.

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    Delight grinned. “I doubt talking of ruining me is the wisest choice of words, despite your protests of intelligence!” She teased. “And I should rather take being an unusual colour over being a liability!”
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    Ben blushed furiously as he realized the double meaning of what he had said, but was relieved to note Delight didn’t seem to take it to heart—even if she had pointed it out.

    “Yes, well,” the Ravenclaw sputtered awkwardly, “I’m sure we can arrange that, if it suits!”

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    Delight couldn’t help but laugh at how bashful Ben had become. “Well, if I ever fancy becoming a guinea pig, you shall be the first I turn to.” She promised. “But you shall have to be specific about the shade, for I would hate to clash with my dresses.”
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    “A crueller friend would point out that it would be impossible for you not to clash,” Ben retorted teasingly, all too aware of how untrue the statement was. “Perhaps becoming a literal guinea pig would even be an improvement!”

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    “And that,” Delight laughed after failing to mock-glare at him. “Is why nobody ever goes to a Ravenclaw for fashion advice.” She lifted her chin in fake indignation. “I do hope you did not have your heart set on being Mr Lytton’s apprentice.”
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    Ben gave a not bloody likely sort of snort.

    “I’ll admit he was not at the top of my list,” he answered dryly. Ben Turner had never thought himself a fashion expert by any stretch. “Though if we flunk our examinations, I might just have to for want of anything more useful to do!”

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    ”I’m sure you would be a wonderful seamster.” Delight grinned, trying not to laugh at the thought of Ben having to spend his days buried in lace as he sewed ruffles to women's bloomers. “But perhaps we ought to see that it does not come to that and deprive Mr Lytton of your fashion talents.”
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    “It sounds as though,” Ben accused, “you are suggesting we actually focus on our work! Such a novel concept, Miss Urquart!”

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    Delight’s mouth twitched into a grin. “You’d think the sorting hat would have put me into Gryffindor, suggesting such bold and radical notions.” She grinned.
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