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.
    Five Weeks of Peace And Quiet
    Private Thread 
    Ophelia had nearly died of joy when she'd read it that morning, and after a quickly penned letter to Nova, she had grabbed her copy of the magazine and headed downstairs to find her grandfather to break the news to him. She wasn't necessarily looking forward to the conversation--he was bound to be grumpy, because the things that she enjoyed always made him grumpy, and she simply felt too bouyant to want to allow him to ruin her fun. It wasn't as though she could avoid it, though--while he may not have realized that she'd gone right away when she'd left earlier that year, he was certainly not so senile that he would allow her lengthy absence to go unremarked on twice in one year.

    Hopefully he wouldn't be too difficult. She wanted to go and write to Mr. Devine--oh, and to everyone, really!--and she didn't want to have to argue with Armando beforehand; it would simply ruin the whole mood!

    She probably ought to have told him that she was entering in this contest before today, but she hadn't really expected to win. No one at the magazine knew of her association with Witch Weekly except the editor-in-chief, Miss Ventus, so the possibility that she'd been given some sort of "insider advantage" seemed low. She was, in fact, quite proud of herself--not only was she a professional author, but she'd won a contest in what she assumed was more or less a blind. That meant she was really talented, didn't it? Maybe someday, after she was married, she could write a book, even!

    "Grandpapa!" she called, finding him at the breakfast table and thrusting the magazine more or less directly into his face. "I've the most wonderful news!" she declared. Armando might not put the pieces together right away, but even he (oblivious as he often was) could really not fail to notice that she was prominently displayed on the cover of the magazine.

    @Armando Dippet @Ursula Black
    The first inklings of indigestion began the moment he heard his granddaughter slip into the dining room to disturb not only his breakfast but his sense of tranquility. He ought to be past the point of getting indigestion over Ophelia but there was no growing accustomed to her exuberant habits. He could feel his lifespan decreasing a year with each escapade.

    This 'wonderful' news would probably shear off another decade. He finally took notice of the obnoxious woman's 'literature' that she was almost pressing against his face and cleared his throat in annoyance. "Is it really news that you've received your weekly copy of that vapid publication?" It didn't, in his opinion, really qualify as literature and it was only really a publication at all on the mere technicality that somehow it was actually published and subscribed to.
    Ophelia rolled her eyes at his description of the magazine, and took the copy back to flip to the main article. He hadn't even commented on her having been on the cover, which annoyed her a bit. She had no illusions that he hadn't noticed. Well, nevermind him; she thought she looked very fetching in the picture on the front page. She was also a little proud of the positioning; there were five winners, in total, but they had put her in the center, more prominently displayed than the other girls.

    "They've had a sweepstakes," she explained matter-of-factly as she found the article. She bent the magazine back along its spine so that the page with her name on it was the only one visible, then held it out to him again, tapping the relevant paragraph with the tip of her index finger. "And see? I've won."
    Armando recoiled in vague disgust. Such blatant publicity was vulgar for a lady, in his opinion, especially in a lady's magazine. The very thought of ladies having their own magazine was enough to appall him but there was nothing to be done about it now. "I should like to have words with them about plastering your likeness on the front of that... that abysmal rag!" he fussed in his curmudgeonly style.

    "And what nonsense is this 'sweepstakes'?" Something unsuitable and unpleasant that he wanted nothing to do with and for to be equally uninvolved.
    "Grandpapa, honestly," she said with an irritable sigh, taking the magazine back and unfolding it so that he could see the rest of the article. She didn't have any illusions that he would actually be inclined to read it, but everything he needed to know was in there, so at least she could say she'd tried to give him all the information. "It's a holiday. With actual traveling," she said, glancing over at him with a clear look of exasperation. She had made her desire for travel perfectly clear to him from the very first day she'd arrived at his home (or at least, shortly thereafter; she had probably mourned her father a bit before using her guardian's wealth for her advantage), and he had stubbornly refused to take her anywhere. He couldn't be surprised or offended that she had found alternative methods of going abroad!

    "They're providing a chaperone and all of the arrangements," she explained. "So there's nothing you could possibly object to. I'll be gone an entire month."
    His instinct was to say no and make a fuss of it but he found himself mouthing syllables with no sound coming out. What could he object to about the scheme? He presumably didn't have to pay a knut. He didn't have to arrange anything. He didn't have to worry about chaperoning her. He didn't have to deal with Ophelia at all.

    It was perfect.

    He ignored the publication she was thrusting in his face and looked at her, skepticism scrawled across her face. "An entire month?"
    [-] The following 1 user Likes Armando Dippet's post:
       Ophelia Dippet
    "More than that," she agreed with a nod, sensing that any arguments he might have had over the scheme were quickly losing the wind from their sails. She was, if nothing else, a veteran of arguing with Armando, and she had developed something of a sixth sense for anticipating his complaints and forcing her way past them. "It's four weeks abroad and then a yacht trip back. Almost five weeks that I'll be gone, in total. It leaves the first week of November and I'll be back just in time for the Christmas holiday."
    More than a month! It was too good to be true.

    Far too good to be true.

    "And I suppose you'll want spending money and new clothes," he huffed. He was expecting the answer to be a negative, hoping it was a stupid question; it felt necessary to make a show of a little more resistance rather than rolling over immediately. It was a weak demonstration anyhow and probably quite obviously so.
    Ophelia considered. She did, in fact, want spending money and new clothes, but she wasn't sure whether or not she would have time to acquire the latter. Besides, she had no experience with traveling. What did one wear? What did one bring? What would the weather be like when she was abroad? What would the local people wear? There were simply too many variables to be able to encompass every eventuality. She'd certainly need a rather powerful expansion charm on her luggage if she was to get anywhere at all.

    "Nothing unreasonable," she decided calmly. "But I can hardly go abroad impoverished."
    He immensely regretted his choice of words as soon as her response came. Of course there was a downside to it all! Armando made a grumbling noise and conceded to himself that giving her a little spending money was a modest price to pay for a reprieve from Ophelia.

    "When do you leave?"
    "November fourth," she answered, almost brusquely. This was how she tended to operate, with Armando; she formed a conversation blitzkrieg in which she delivered all of the relevant information and achieved her goal, and when she had gotten everything she needed from her grandfather, retreated quickly so that he had no time to formulate further complaints or troublesome questions.

    "I ought to back," she announced, rising and moving towards the door. It was as good an excuse as any, even though she wouldn't be leaving for another month. "Oh," she added, pausing by the door. "I wrote to Mr. Devine to tell him, as well. I think he may call sometime this week."
    A month seemed like a long way away now that he had warmed to the idea but he supposed he'd appreciate it all the more for having waited diligently for it. "Yes, yes. Do that." The sooner she left, the sooner he could stop holding his breath for any catches she might be about to reveal to him.