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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    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!
    09.02 The AC is underway, and the results are in for Camp Charming...
    09.01 September ahoy! A new school year, new skins, and elections!
    08.27 Upcoming AC and Wizengamot tweak
    08.21 So you want to be a Student Club President?
    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.
    The Perfect Opportunity
    Private Thread 
    September had been an awfully frustration month for Marlowe. It would've been one thing if he'd failed to catch sight of a werewolf he wasn't sure existed in the area; however, he new for a fact that there was a werewolf living in Irvingly and unfortunately it was likely she'd been contained by the Ministry at the time. Part of him was glad to know Miss Urquart was a werewolf; the other part of him was pissed off that everyone else knew, too!

    Without a stable occupation to keep him busy during the evenings, Marlowe had taken to the streets on the search for anything remotely entertaining. Irvingly lacked much of the entertainment that London offered — the only entertainment was muggles being their aloof selves. He had found his way to the market, and was just about to leave when he caught sight of just the person he'd been thinking about standing not too far away from him.

    As she walked through the village square, he watched as sheets of paper flew from her bag. Quickly following her, he scooped them up and shuffled to catch up to her.

    "Miss Urquart!" he called, trying to keep his voice calm and not at all too excited. "It's Miss Urquart, isn't it? These were coming out of your bag," he explained, holding the papers out to her.
    @Topaz Urquart
    [-] The following 1 user Likes Marlowe Forfang's post:
       Topaz Urquart
    Topaz wasn't sure she liked going to school with the Irvingly children in the mornings, but she knew it was probably good for her. If she didn't do that, she'd just be inside the house all the time, and whether she felt like she was ready to face the world or not, she'd have to do it sooner or later. She couldn't become a social outcast, living in her room and never seeing the sun. Well, she could, but her family would probably prefer that she didn't, and she'd done enough to hurt them already, with everything else that had happened.

    She was making her way home from school and not paying much attention to anything outside her own thoughts when she heard someone call her name. She stiffened and turned to see who it was with eyes as wide as a frightened animals'. The voice had sounded like an adult, not one of the children at school, but he had known her name. It had to be someone who read the paper, someone who knew about her, which meant chances were very high that this was not a conversation she wanted to have. She looked for any telltale sign of the reporter badge the man at the Ministry had had, but saw nothing--and then he handed her some papers, which she did recognize as hers.

    "Oh," she said, feeling rather sheepish as she reached out for them. "Thank you. I didn't notice."

    Oh Merlin, he was talking to a werewolf — a real, living, breathing werewolf! She looked so tiny and innocent; could she really turn into a large beast when the full moon came up? It was somewhat hard for him to believe. The only werewolf he'd ever came in contact with was the man from his childhood, and Marlowe remembered him being so large in comparison to his child self.

    "It's not a problem at all," he reassured with a smile. "It looks like a lot of work for one school day." He supposed it was schoolwork; he had heard that the Minister (well, ex-Minister now) had put her in school with the muggle children. He wanted to appear welcoming, not scary. He wanted to come off as a trustworthy adult — only then would he have a chance to study her!
    Topaz flushed, unsure how to respond to the sudden conversation. She wasn't used to having conversations with strangers in general, truth be told; she certainly hadn't been having many since the incident in August. If she'd had any expectations, though, this man was defying them by being so unassuming and... well, normal. He had to know, or else how would he have known her name?

    "It's, uhm," she said a little awkwardly, glancing down at the papers and shuffling them as if she'd forgotten what they were and needed to refresh her memory. "It's not just a day, I've been working ahead," she confessed. She wondered if this sounded like bragging, and flushed again. "Well, it's not ahead, I'm actually behind, because they learn different things than I was learning at Hogwarts and I've never studied Muggle history before and so there's a lot to--"

    Merlin, she was rambling, and this was a stranger. Topaz shut her mouth abruptly, then turned to take her small backpack off and tuck the papers back inside. "Thank you," she said again, not looking up at him.

    Merlin, he hadn't frightened her, had he? He hadn't said anything too brash or straightforward, so his words shouldn't have scared her. Maybe she was still shaken from the whole incident she'd had — that would've left a lasting impact on him.

    "No worries," he said once again, though his tone was softer. "It has to be hard — you know, to be surrounded by almost exclusively muggle children. You're very brave." His tone was once again warm and friendly. He needed to speak in a way that made her stay; if she went running off in embarrassment, he wouldn't get anywhere!
    Topaz was, indeed, of a mind to run off towards home as soon as she'd gotten the papers back into her bag. She was struggling to get them to lay flat against her book, though, and by the time she'd straightened up and started to lift the bag onto her shoulders he'd already finished replying. What he said struck her. He'd confirmed what she had suspected, that he was a wizard and he read the paper and that was how he'd known who she was--if he was a Muggle, he wouldn't have said Muggle children. That, though, was not what gave her pause. It was that he had called her brave.

    She didn't think of herself as a brave person. She never had, and she had never thought of herself as having anything in common with the average Gryffindor at all. The only person who had ever accused her of being brave was her Papa. He hadn't used that word, but that was what he'd implied, and she had been trying to live up to what he'd written in the Prophet ever since. She wanted, so badly, to be worthy of the things her Papa thought about her. My daughter is a strong young girl.

    "You think so?" she asked, rather shyly.

    He'd originally used the word "brave" without thinking; he'd only hoped to catch her attention long enough to get her to stick around. But hearing the tone of doubtful hope in her voice, he was forced to consider what he'd said. Miss Urquart's life had changed for the worst when she was bitten by a werewolf. She'd been forced from school and her father had been pressured to resign — something that had inevitably happened. Yet instead of curling up inside her home, she was going to school with the other children. That, Marlowe thought, really was bravery if he'd ever seen it.

    "Very brave," he confirmed with a nod. "Most would've given up completely in your shoes; you, however, are going to school in unfamiliar territory with unfamiliar children to get your education. That is the dictionary definition of bravery, don't you think?"
    Topaz certainly still had her doubts, as she listened to him explain. It wasn't like any of that had been her idea. Her father had decided that she would be going to school--probably only for the fact of getting her out of the house and interacting with others, not because she needed to know Muggle history and maths and things. That hadn't been her decision, though, to go out and force herself to interact with people; she simply hadn't resisted her Papa's will. Did that make her brave, when someone else had decided it for her?

    "I suppose," she said, but her tone was rather uncertain. She hadn't given up, that was true--last month, she'd tried to go talk to Mrs. Riley so that she could have some direction in her life she was actually enthused about, not just going through the motions--but that didn't really seem like an option, to her. She was fourteen, after all, and even if Witch Weekly was right about her not being able to live as long with her condition (which sounded, to her ears, a lot like the sort of thing Witch Weekly might make up) she still had decades ahead of her. She couldn't stay in her room hiding from the world for that long!

    "Do you live here?" Topaz asked the stranger, suddenly. "I haven't seen you before."

    It was shocking that she hadn't seen him before, because he'd seen her before. Granted it was before he'd known she was a werewolf (and as such before he'd taken a keen interest in her), but he'd seen her. Perhaps it was just because she, the Minister's daughter, was more noteworthy than quirky, reclusive Marlowe Forfang.

    "I do live here," he confirmed. "Though I spent a lot of time in London at the library. I do a lot of research on various topics depending on what interests me," he explained. It was true that he'd researched more than just werewolves in his time, but werewolves were the one thing he always wanted to study!
    "Oh," Topaz said, feeling a compulsion to keep the conversation going that she didn't exactly understand. Was it because he had called her brave, or because although he clearly knew about her from the papers but he was being so polite in not bringing it up? She hadn't had many conversations that didn't revolve around, or at least touch on, her lycanthropy since it had happened. It had been the foremost thing in the minds of her siblings, even when they hadn't been talking about it directly. They couldn't shop for school supplies without acknowledging that Topaz wouldn't be going back; they couldn't talk about Hogwarts or the house or the paper or anything without relating it back to what had happened. It was strange but oddly refreshing to meet someone who didn't seem eager to bring it up.

    "I like the library," she supplied. "I can't get anyone to take me unless I already know what I'm looking for, though, because otherwise I spend too much time finding books," she added with a shy sort of half-smile.

    It did suddenly cross his mind that Miss Topaz Urquart was the Ravenclaw of her siblings — at least she was if he was remembering her correctly. The library was a topic he could always talk about.

    "I used to work at the Crowdy Memorial Library," he responded with a smile. "If you ever needed someone to take you - er - I could take you," he offered, struggling to sound more friendly rather than creepy. "With your father's permission, of course." And likely a chaperon seeing as she was a fourteen-year-old girl.
    [-] The following 1 user Likes Marlowe Forfang's post:
       Topaz Urquart
    Coming from an older cousin or a family friend (or even, for that matter, a female stranger), the offer would have delighted Topaz. This, however, was unfamiliar territory, and she found herself shrinking slightly in the face of the unknown. What would her father say if she were to ask? How would she even try to ask?

    "I don't know your name," she said meekly, wondering if perhaps she ought to have taken her backpack and left when she'd first gotten the papers in order. Was this a bad thing to be doing? What would Papa think if he saw her? She could certainly see how he might get the wrong impression, particularly if this stranger was offering to take her places, but all of that hadn't even occurred to her before! She'd just been glad to have someone to talk to, for a moment--someone who wasn't talking about that.

    Marlowe awkwardly bit his lip. She looked uncomfortable, which meant he had two choices: get her to warm up to him or risk watching her flee! He was not a charming people person; he was far more used to scaring people off than bringing them closer.

    "My name's Marlowe Forfang. I live down in Swallowbury with my parents and younger siblings," he offered, hoping that a clear introduction would make him appear less shady.

    "I don't mean to make you uncomfortable," he said, his voice much quieter than before. He could see the uncertainty in her eyes, and he didn't doubt that it mirrored his. For all that he was outgoing, he had a tendency to isolate himself when in the midst of his studies. "I do know what it's like to feel trapped in isolation. I only wished to offer you a chance to escape it as well. Nobody should be stuck in an awful town like this all day," he explained honestly.