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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    10.17 Election 1887 campaign ledgers are up!
    10.16 Kayte's changed her (Charming) face!
    10.10 Congrats to September's PW winners Olive and Miri!
    10.03 An update on the Hogwarts ban...
    10.01 It's now October~
    09.30 The AC Approaches
    09.24 We have new Wenches!
    09.24 A wild election deadline appears!
    09.14 Witch Weekly needs more Wenches!
    09.10 Hags have hired!
    09.05 Hags are Hiring & Update your CML Entries
    09.04 Congratulations to Lynn and Bree for winning August's PW!
    Graves Sprout Up Like Wildflowers
    Open Thread 
    Late afternoon! Open to anyone but she's hurlable for any UCAB/MCAB 28+ gentleman, so there's that!

    Truth be told, they were running out of places to walk to, and since Nova was becoming daily more and more pregnant, Ophelia was finding herself struggling to think up interest ventures to try and lure her friend out of the house with her. She had to continue to go out and be seen as often as possible, even if her excuses for errands had entirely dried up by now and she was left with nothing but 'fresh air.' Fresh air, on this occasion, had taken them to the cemetery, for no discernible reason. Ophelia supposed they were both of suitably melancholy dispositions for such a trip to be not entirely out of character. That being said, of all of the deceased relatives she had (and there were quite a few of them), none of them were buried here, and so the trip was rather pointless, at least on her end.

    They'd strolled through the grounds and looked at the flowers growing in wide patches. It wasn't a bad walk, she supposed--until the buckle on her shoe came undone and she nearly tripped. She staggered slightly, while Nova walked ahead a few steps, and Ophelia had to stoop to relatch it. "Wait just a moment," she pleaded as she did, "My shoe's come--"

    But before she could finish her sentence she glanced back up and saw that Nova was nowhere to be seen. She had vanished, as had the path that Ophelia had thought she was walking on. In its place was a tall mausoleum, obscuring the horizon beyond, and the path curved off to the right. Only she knew the path had been straight only a moment ago!

    "Nova!" she called, taking a quick step forward and reaching out to try and touch the cool stone of the mausoleum walls--quite forgetting that she hadn't fastened the buckle on her shoe yet, and having to stagger to keep from falling flat on her face. "Oof," she said as she collided with the mausoleum, which seemed rather solid. Oh dear--she'd been hoping it had just been an illusion. What on earth was going on? "November!" she called again.
    Face tilted briefly to the sky Delphine didn't need to look twice to know he'd found the right place.

    The name of it would have been obvious even if he hadn't been aware of it, the asphodel flowers grew well around the freshly dug graves, a wild comparison to the careful rows the potion supplier he'd spoken to who sourced their own from a farm. But there was no need for him to open his purse - he could always gather much more from a cemetery than a sense of melancholy. (He got enough of that by spending money on things he could get for himself.)

    Crouched down by a headstone he went back to studying the petals of a flower trapped in the shade of it, and frowned as he felt something loom up behind him. Evening couldn't have come so quickly? Straightening up he turned to face the sun, and a smile stretched across his face when he was met with nothing but a view of stone - and a woman making a rather physical introduction of herself to it.

    He'd noticed a pair walking through when he'd first gotten here, but hadn't taken much note after that; until one of them was staggering into a wall and calling out a month that was far in the future, "Isn't it a little early for November to come?" Keeping his distance from the young woman he let curiosity pull him closer to the structure.

    "Not just asphodel that grows well here, then. Did you put this here?" He tried to subdue his curiosity with a question and reached down to touch the ground where it met with the mausoleums steps, "I wonder where its' shadow went." Wide enough to block his view of the sun, there should have been a shadow to go along with it.
    Ophelia started at the sound of someone else's voice, and whirled to face the gentleman, her back up against the cool stone of the mausoleum wall. The motion made her shoe slip off entirely, as it hadn't been very firmly attached after her stumble in the first place, and she had to bend her leg at the knee to keep from getting her stocking wet in the dewy grass.

    "November Malfoy," she explained, looking the man over cautiously but not outright suspiciously. "She's my friend. We were walking together."

    She didn't recognize the man, but there wasn't anything particularly outrageous about his appearance here. He didn't look like a criminal, or a pauper, and there wasn't anything strange about his mannerisms. Still, she couldn't help but be a little anxious about meeting a man alone in the cemetery. Biting her lower lip a bit uncertainly, she stooped to retrieve her shoe, leaning heavily against the mausoleum as she slipped it back on and refastened the buckle. "I don't know where it came from," she said in answer, too focused on her shoe at present to notice anything about its shadow. "I certainly didn't have anything to do with it. But the path changed, too," she said, with a vague nod in the direction that the path now took, swerving off to the right below their feet. "It used to be straight here, and now it turns."
    Twenty-seven years and he had grown accustomed to the discretely wary glances he was often greeted with, and there was never a time that he didn't have some understanding of why. With an easy smile he added another step to the distance between them, and a quick check as he touched the stone walls with interest told him he only had a dusting of dirt across his knuckles. At least he was cleaner now than he had been when he finished work.

    "And your friend has disappeared?" Maybe he should have been more wary of this woman, who had lost her companion to the sudden appearance of a mausoleum. Dark brown eyes flicked to her and back to the structure, at first concerned that she might have been here to visit her friend at the cemetery and was only confused - until he sighed, and reminded himself in the next second that he had seen the two of them earlier, and the other woman had seemed very much alive at that point; was he starting to make mysteries out of his own memory.

    Glancing down at her shoe he realised her issue, and his upbringing told him to retrieve it but he settled for turning to wrap the few good flowers he had gathered in a soft leather pouch - a task to avert his eyes while she took care of fixing her own problem. One of them, at least. "It's the same solid stone as others, maybe it shifted and what was here is somewhere else around here?" Or it had been here the whole time, and the earlier path was just an illusion. His curiosity was practically humming as he moved towards the entrance, gaze following the new path she pointed out.

    "There was a nice patch of asphodel here," he nodded, "Did she, your November Malfoy, go inside here?"
    [Image: OPYpZou.png]
    "Well, I hope she hasn't disappeared," Ophelia said, managing to get the strap through the buckle and pulling it taut. She put her foot back down on the grass experimentally, testing her weight as if afraid that her shoe might have become permanently compromised in structural integrity after having had the audacity to slip off of her foot once. "But she certainly isn't here."

    Ophelia didn't know much about spontaneous cemetery magic, but his explanation seemed like a good one. It was certainly preferable to the idea that Nova might have gone somewhere distant and irretrievable--or worse, that they had. Ophelia had enjoyed her walk through the cemetery so far that afternoon, but she had no desire to be trapped here because the entrance had decided to run away from her. Maybe that was really what caused all the howling and mischief at night? She'd heard rumors that the cemetery was haunted with something worse than ghosts, but she hadn't believed it--it was such a young cemetery to have attracted anything really interesting. Even so, she didn't have much desire to be stuck here after dark to put her skepticism through the test--and she had even less desire to be stuck here indefinitely and end up as a part of whatever had lead people to think this place haunted.

    "I think so," Ophelia answered him, a little uncertainly. "I didn't properly see. I had to stop to fix my shoe. But I can't imagine she would have gone anywhere else. We were just walking along the path."