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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    08.08 We have two PW winners for July: Soph and Beanie!
    08.07 SWP7 update for those working/in Hogsmeade
    08.05 Hogwarts updates have begun! Also, the AC is underway.
    08.01 Happy August!
    07.31 SWP meets Monthly Grouper in an opportunity to network and get some stamps.
    07.29 AC incoming et al.
    07.28 And the prefects are...
    07.23 Your stamp collection is about to get bigger!
    07.21 Calling in the banners!
    07.15 The rubble has been cleared and deadlines loom!
    07.10 Not one, not two, but THREE more stamps to add to your collection~
    07.09 New Account Change Feature!
    07.09 Disaster strikes!
    07.08 Charmers go above and beyond...
    07.07 Pop-up protest and photobucket things
    07.06 Photobucket emergency! Read me!
    07.04 A plot is afoot ;)
    07.01 July has come! Group threads are coming!
    August 1887
    SWP7 is live!
    08.01 - 08.31 Posting Wizard
    07.01 - 08.31 Camp Charming
    08.09 - 08.16 Adinbury Hunt
    08.14 Anti-Ban Protest
    08.16 - 08.23 Sanditon Regatta
    08.25 Hogsmeade Hall Dance
    And More!
    Avoiding Eyes
    Private Thread 

    Word Count: 202 | Tag: @Julius Scrimgeour | Date: August 08, 1887 | THE BLUE DRESS

    She was in pain — that was all she'd told Julius.

    She'd spoken in a hushed and serious tone, one that provided all the explanation she needed for a visit to St. Mungo's. From the outside, nothing looked wrong with her — he pale complexion had not been disrupted, and there was no limb that looked relatively out of place. She did not fiddle nor fumble or make any movements that were out of the norm, nor did she suck in her breath or make any other sounds that would suggest pain. She knew it had to be infuriating for her elder brother, but she remained silent as they sat in the waiting room.

    Her head was kept low as the nurses passed, afraid to make eye contact with any of them. She felt that meeting another's eyes would allow them to see through her facade and the charms she'd placed on her face. She peeked up at her brother every now and then, her head sharply moving in the other direction each time his gaze attempted to fix on hers. She let out a deep breath, hoping desperately that someone would be able to handle her troubles before she had to return home.

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    Annabelle's attempts to not make eye contact told Julius that she knew exactly how he felt about the whole ordeal. He was annoyed. It wasn't that he minded taking his sister to the Hospital, if she was hurt by all means, he would take her - though he wasn't sure why it had to be this one rather than in Hogsmeade where they lived, but they were here anyways - he was simply annoyed by her persistence of not telling him why. It really didn't look good for them to be here with no obvious sign and their father would find out sooner or later when the bill came in. He wanted to know what he was risking his neck for at least.

    Eyes closed, he leaned his head back against the wall, not bothering to fix his wrinkled suit. "Annie-belle," he'd start with a sigh, not for the first time in the time they had been waiting, "would you please tell me why we are here?" Finally? He'd tack on, though he kept that comment to himself. He knew his sister well enough to know that something like that would push her over the edge and she wouldn't say anything. "I'm worried about you."
    [Image: mSMnBX.jpg]
    thanks bree!!

    Word Count: 283 | Tag: @Julius Scrimgeour | Date: August 08, 1887 | The Blue Dress

    Her brother's pressing was enough to make her feel guilt. She avoided his gave and remained solid for a solid ten seconds, unsure of how to explain to him exactly what had happened. To some degree he idolized their father — or at least his career path had made her think so. Why would she wish to convince her brother that their father was a monster? During her whole visit to the House of Lytton that morning, she'd done her best to hide her pain while she contemplated on her strategy for getting it taken care of.

    Mother had not agreed to take her, and father certainly wouldn't take her after he'd been the one to cause her injury! Julius had been her only hope, and he was the least likely to turn down her requests out of the three adults in her life. Annabelle took a deep breath and pulled out her wand. She stared at it for moments, her hand shaking as she held it. She remained silent, but slowly pointed it up to her face.

    With a soft mutter, she revealed her injuries.

    The whole right side of her face was swollen and a mixture of blues, purples, and red. The whites of her eyes were bloodshot and gazed, and her lip torn. She knew she looked awful, hence why she'd hidden it over the past few days. As she watched her brother, she could see other eyes from her peripheral vision staring at her as well.

    "This is why we're here," she whispered, her gaze falling to her lap. It felt no more painful with the enchantments lifted, but it was more difficult to see and definitely felt more puffy.

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    Jules hadn't expected an answer this time, not seeing this any different than the million other times he had asked but apparently this last time had been the push she needed. He didn't recognize the words she muttered, or maybe she had just been to quiet for him to make our what his sister had said, but it didn't matter once the spell dropped and he had to buy his lip from blurting out the first chain of thoughts he might have had - which probably involved far more cussing that was socially acceptable.

    He glanced up then, to see who else was in the room. Who else was watching, glaring at anyone who dared make eye contact before turning back to Annabelle, his fist clinched tightly, veins prominent. "Who?" his word was but a hiss, barely audible in his anger. He had a distinct suspicion oh the answer.

    Despite what she though, he did not idolize their father. He was in no way blind. He had spent his school years constantly worrying over his siblings at home. He could have spent the Christmas holidays at school, away from their father's right reigns, but he had come back, always attempting to act as a buffer. Those years he had been alone with their father as the sole target had been a relief. His career path had little to do with his - when he was younger, that might have been the case, but now it was to help people, not please his father. He had long sense grown out of being such a little bit when he had to shield his one year old brother and a three year old sister from the brunt of their father's anger when he was only nine. 

    But the thing was, when he had been younger, he had known a different father, one she had never met. He had seen his father come home from being tortured when his siblings had been to young to remember. He didn't idolize his father, he simply pittyed him. Still that would not excuse his father from Julius anger if it was him. Why had she not said anything? Though he would be just as angry if it hadn't been their father. No one touched Annabelle like that. No one touched his family.
    [Image: mSMnBX.jpg]
    thanks bree!!

    Word Count: 144 | Tag: @Julius Scrimgeour | Date: August 08, 1887 | The Blue Dress

    Guilt overwhelmed Annabelle at the sight of her brother's face and the sound of his voice. If it was possible for looks to kill, she'd have already been dead — but it seemed that it wasn't her he was angry at. She wasn't at all sure what to tell him, for any mention of her father's involvement might trigger even a bigger issue. If Julius were to get angry at father, not only would be become a target, but Annabelle would also be targeted once more for revealing who injured her.

    "I can't tell you, Julius. I don't want you ... doing anything," she whispered, her face sore as she spoke. She side-eyed the nurses and noted the worried expressions on their faces; it seems one of them was even sending for a healer. "I just wish to see a healer and go home," she explained.

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