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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  • Hogwarts '87
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  • 1887
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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.
    Testing The Waters
    See Inside... Thread 
    Herschel's intention to run for Minister of Magic had started before Balthazar Urquart had even resigned. It had obviously been very hypothetical then but he had sensed a shift in the political climate that he'd felt more than once before. In the end, the end of Urquart's reign had come about differently from how he had expected but the outcome was more or less the same.

    Several people had already announced their candidacy and so it was that Herschel was of a mind to play the waiting game. As Chief Warlock he already had power comparable of that to the Minister himself, but there was just that much more prestige in being Minister and greed was a weakness he could admit to.

    While he was already trying to pave the way for his candidacy, he hadn't told anyone his intentions and he was still trying to gather info and gain supporters without them realizing they were supporters. It was easier to endear himself to people when they didn't know he had ulterior motive. As such, he had decided to strike up conversation with a gentleman he found awaiting the elevator to another floor. "Is it still running slow? You'd think Magical Maintenance would have seen to it properly after it broke down the other week." If it was running slow, Herschel would be amused by the coincidence, just as he'd be amused to hear that it had actually broke down recently.

    SEPTEMBER 26, 1887 | Open to a male only

    The head of Spirit Division stood, leaning ever so slightly upon the walking stick he carried so constantly, at the elevator, giving the damn thing a death glare. It was never there when he wanted it. Though, his mood could be considered sour after what his niece had decided to pull. Heiresses and debutantes - the two most fickle kinds of women in the world.

    Pulled from his reverie by another's voice, Killian straightened, turning to look at Mr. Dawlish with his most natural smirk. He'd grown adept at hiding his true feelings over the past few years - why not another test? "It seems to despise me," he replied, turning to glance at the elevator once more. "I can never seem to catch it when it's here." He hadn't heard that it'd broken down the week before, but it wouldn't surprise him, to be fair. If it treated him like this, he reasoned, then he probably wasn't the only one dealing with these issues.
    emo!Killian by Nolan!! <3
    [Image: IfFgIx.png]
    Lilypie Angel and Memorial tickers[Image: 2n8tv2c.jpg]Lilypie Angel and Memorial tickers
    Morwenna took comfort in the fact that even if everybody in the Ministry thought that her department was fucking up royally and extremely publicly, there was no one, not a single soul in the entire Ministry of Magic that did not spare their highest contempt for the Magical Maintenance staff. Even she, who tried to be fair and reasonable in her judgement of other people, loathed them and their laziness and she groaned with frustration when, moments after entering into the lift, it began to move with even less pace than she had managed during either occasion in the summer when her leg had been bloody and useless. Bashing her fist uselessly against the buttons she achieved precisely nothing other than making her hand feel sore and sighed with frustration as she leaned back against the far side of the lift-car, preparing herself for a long journey.

    What felt like a good ten minutes later - or it could have been longer, she had begun counting to pass the time but had not started that until half-way through her wait - the car finally seemed to have reached a new floor. It was still miles away from where she needed to be but at least she wouldn't be alone in her suffering. Although when the doors rattled open she immediately began to rethink that notion and the polite smile she found herself wearing since she had entered the heady realm of mid-management came out instinctively.

    "Gentleman. I'm afraid we're travelling at a snail's pace today. We can but hope we'll reach our destination before we all die of old age."

    Mr Dawlish couldn't have been far off it really, although she would commend him for still being as active as he was, given that in all likelihood he was several decades older than both her and her colleague and yet was the only one of them without a walking stick. She could hardly throw stones about aging!

    (OOC: Joining in with Olive's permission!)
    As of May 1887 Morwenna walks with a limp and a cane. Acquaintances and family might have also noticed that gurl is looking unwell af.
    [Image: Morwenna_SIG_by_Bee.png]
    bury me with this Bee set
    "While I doubt the infernal contraption has little personal grievance with you, Mr. Tabiner, I daresay the management of the Ministry has it out for all of us. Such a chaotic time politically, not that it was much better when Urquart or Potter were at the helm..." Hopefully that would prompt some political revelation from Tabiner before the elevator finally arrived. Except then the damn thing finally did show up. Perhaps he'd been wrong to dismiss the inherent spite of the elevators. At least they seemed to begrudge Tabiner more than they did him.

    Herschel had felt some relief to have left his - for aesthetics only - cane at home that day for he would have felt like a geriatric stood next to Mr. Tabiner whom he was inclined to believe actually needed it. This relief only grew when the elevator opened to reveal the equally crippled Mrs. Skeeter from the Department of Conspiring To Get Everyone Eaten By Werewolves. He strode in reluctantly and pressed his desired floor button. He didn't particularly care for Mrs. Skeeter's choice of words nor her uselessness in the realm of voting. Even if she could vote, he doubted she'd choose anyone over her own son.

    "Let's hope the next Minister inspires enough respect to keep Magical Maintenance in order." He supposed that was all he'd end up saying on the matter now that Skeeter had shown up. Herschel didn't care to acknowledge the mention of death by old age being the most obviously decrepit of the gathering.

    SEPTEMBER 26, 1887 | @Killian Tabiner @Morwenna Skeeter
    [-] The following 2 users Like Herschel Dawlish's post:
       Killian Tabiner, Morwenna Skeeter

    Killian barely had time enough to scoff before the lift arrived, carrying with it Mrs. Skeeter. Killian shifted from a smirk to an honest smile. Mrs. Skeeter was one of his direct superiors, and quite honestly, he actually liked the woman. She took no nonsense and gave no fucks, and that was a trait combination that Killian wholeheartedly approved of. He'd many times actually considered asking her advice on how to deal with his niece.

    "Mrs. Skeeter," he greeted, inclining his head slightly as he entered the lift, finding himself a spot against the wall so he could pseudo-casually lean against that rather than actually lean on his walking-stick. "A snail's pace is an improvement over walking." He was the youngest person in the lift presently, and thus less affected by her comment of dying from old age.

    He nodded some, however, to Mr. Dawlish's comment. "It's always a hope, isn't it?" he said easily, glancing up at the ceiling. "Though every Minister has their failings, let's hope the next at least inspires confidence in Magical Maintenance." He could say a lot more, but it felt as though it would be too much. Especially with Mrs. Skeeter, whose son was in the running. Though that was certainly a thought...
    emo!Killian by Nolan!! <3
    [Image: IfFgIx.png]
    Lilypie Angel and Memorial tickers[Image: 2n8tv2c.jpg]Lilypie Angel and Memorial tickers
    Oh good, she seemed to immediately have said the wrong thing and earned herself the silent dislike of the Chief Warlock. Wonderful. What was her crime this time she wondered? Having a voice? Having breasts? Or having both and being too old to titillate him with either? It was likely that and she couldn't help but find it offensive. She had to be a significant number of decades younger than him after all. In fact she was closer in age to Mr Tabiner, though she was told he was rarely out of the company of his young ward. Who was much, much younger than him.

    Fuck it, today was going to be one of those days. One of the days when she felt angry enough to long to transform and scratch off every face she saw.

    "One wouldn't think it was overly difficult-"

    And then it happened. Inevitably. The lift rattled and juddered to a halt. Morwenna could have screamed but instead she calmly pressed the nearest button which promptly did nothing. She sighed and thanked her lucky stars it was at least not a wolf night.

    (OOC: Guys, just like Billie-Jean ain't my lover, Barney is not my son :P)
    As of May 1887 Morwenna walks with a limp and a cane. Acquaintances and family might have also noticed that gurl is looking unwell af.
    [Image: Morwenna_SIG_by_Bee.png]
    bury me with this Bee set