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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    News
    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.
     
        
     
    When The Cat's Away
    #1
    Private Thread 
    Set after Christmas! (Let's call it the 29th?)

    Since he wasn't allowed to order portkeys any more (which he blamed quite solidly on Roman being a snitch, not on his own abuse of the system), Ben tried to steer clear of the Ministry on most occasions. He just didn't have any reason to be there most of the time, and in his experience, everyone who worked at the Ministry took themselves far too seriously. That, and it gave him minor flashbacks to when he had spent two miserable years working in this building, which was something he wanted to avoid whenever possible. Both of his brother did work here, though. Most of the time that was just one more reason to avoid the area, but occasionally he did have to talk to Aldous or Roman about something. Today happened to be the former. He was just hoping he could get in and out of the conversation without Aldous bringing up the fact that Ben had replaced half of his bottle of Christmas alcohol with water. Maybe he hadn't noticed yet.

    Aldous had worked in the same office forever, so Ben knew exactly where he was going even though he tried to avoid it as much as possible. He didn't realize, however, until he was actually in the midst of the department for international magical cooperation that the place was all but deserted. A quick check of his pocketwatch told him they were probably mostly out to lunch; it was around the time for it, though being largely unemployed (self-employed?) Ben hadn't realized that until he'd already been standing in the empty offices. Well, almost empty; there was a blond girl up ahead that he didn't recognize. She looked young - maybe a new secretary.

    "Hey, excuse me," he called to get her attention, closing the distance between the two of them. "Is everyone out to lunch? I don't suppose you know when they're back?"

    @Alexandra Seymore
    #2
    It had been a long, tiresome afternoon and although she could feel a slight gurgle starting to rouse her mostly empty stomach, she was forgoing the first half of her meal period. Why? That ridiculous bustle it seemed the ladies of town were all atwitter about. For the most part, she left it abandoned beneath her desk. Electing to wear a floor length robe for most of her Ministry work, lest she detract too much from the liaisons she was translating with her voluptuous physique, it went mostly unnoticed in its absence. She didn't really need it, regardless. As such, she only retrieved it from its nesting place when she knew she'd be out and about in the public eye at lunch or for supper.

    Moving quickly, the hunger spreading quickly through her ravenous belly, she felt secure enough in the office's empty chambers to make the wardrobe change behind her desk. As such, when the gentleman caller came... well... calling... she was caught almost literally with her pants, er.. skirt, down. Up? Did it matter?! There was a man no less than five feet from her and he could see her backside quite clearly.

    "Oh... Oh, I'm so sorry.. I was just..."

    She didn't have an adequate excuse or response that sounded even remotely dignified, as she struggled to right her garment's wrongs, straightening out the billowing lilac fabric as she rose. Hands folded in front of her, she could feel them trembling somewhat, a sharp nip to her full lower lip in subconscious punishment for such a grievous error in judgement. Little did she know, all flustered and flushed, lip tucked coyly beneath the other, she looked quite the picture of arousal, instead of the apologetic naïvety she was going for.

    "Reuben?"

    Right. Of all the people in Merlin's known universe to see her exposed in her knickers in the workplace, it would be him. A man closer to his thirties now, he was once a devastatingly handsome seventh year boy, she a boisterous, ill-mannered child seated several places down from him at their shared house table chattering animatedly and falling absolutely head over heels for someone she knew nothing of. It was silly and childish at best, and surely something long since forgotten to her youth. But... why then did she find her blush creeping further from her cheeks when she realized just who he was, her breath hitched just from those the two syllables it took to utter his name?

    @Reuben Crouch
    [-] The following 2 users Like Alexandra Seymore's post:
       Annabelle Scrimgeour, Reuben Crouch
    #3
    Ben hadn't really noticed the state of undress the woman was in when he'd approached her. If he had, he certainly wouldn't have drawn attention to her and walked right up - whatever his reputation might be, he wasn't an absolute cad. Besides, the department of international magical cooperation wasn't really his ideal setting for intimate moments, no matter how many lacy underthings were involved. Luckily, he'd only caught a glimpse of her legs. He'd seen much more of other women, and so the slight color added to his cheeks was more embarrassment for her sake rather than his. For most ladies (particularly the kind who might work in the Ministry), flashing ones' legs was a much bigger deal than seeing them was to Ben.

    "I'm sorry," he started hurriedly, unsure whether she was going to end up accusing him of barging in on her or whether she'd just be too mortified to speak. "I didn't mean to, uh —"

    He might have had to rack his brain for an appropriate way to finish that sentence, except that his train of thought was entirely derailed when she suddenly said his name. Not even Mr. Crouch, but his first name. She had to know him from somewhere, then, but even now that she was standing up straight and he could get a good look at her face, Ben didn't recognize her at all. Unless Aldous had circulated a picture of him to all of his employees and told them to be on the lookout (not entirely impossible, but unlikely), she'd met him somewhere before - and he'd evidently left a much bigger impression on her than she had on him.

    Reuben knew his way around conversations with women enough to know not to admit that, though. Rather than asking do I know you? (if she knew his first name the answer was quite obviously yes, no matter that he'd forgotten), he tilted his head just slightly as he looked her over and asked in as suave a tone as he could manage, considering that she'd just flashed him, "Where do I know you from, Miss?"
    #4
    Those roving eyes did absolutely nothing for her tainted complexion, nor did the way his chin cocked curiously to the side, obviously appraising her. 'Breathe. Just breathe, you bloody fool.' Her mental chiding was habit, as was the instinctive straightening of her spine into a more proper posture. Though, her slouch was strategic most days, as it pulled back the offending nature of her ample bosom. A bosom that was prominently on display without the cloaking of her robe, heaving lightly as she scrambled to think of an answer that would not offend. I used to picture you on the Appleby Arrows' poster instead of their Captain, that wirey, taut musculature of yours featured prominently beneath a sweat glistened brow? No, no. He wasn't female masturbatory material after all... not... not that she did that. Ever. No. Never.

    "You were on top... you topped... you chased tail.. you were..."

    Oh, bloody hell... this was going nowhere good, was it?

    "Chaser, sir. You were a chaser. One of the best. I've seen you play at school."

    The words seemed to require as much effort to pull out as ripping rotted teeth from reluctant roots, each syllable torture as it fell from her lips. Right, then. Death and dismemberment was preferable to this dismal display, was it not? Just for good measure, though... she threw in a polite grin. Though, her polite grin coupled with her flustered state, certainly seemed flirtatious enough. Casting a nervous glance toward the door when no other parties seemed to be accompanying him, she kept it in her peripherals as a possible escape route. After all, she wasn't exactly supposed to be left alone in any man's company in her station, let alone with a man that had inspired far more hunger than her forfeited lunch ever had.

    @Reuben Crouch
    [-] The following 1 user Likes Alexandra Seymore's post:
       Annabelle Scrimgeour
    #5
    Ben wasn't sure he was following what she was trying to say, but he couldn't help but smile at what it sounded like she was saying. Certainly all of the innuendo was unintentional, he figured; the sorts of women who went and got jobs at the Ministry did not tend to be the same sorts who could make dirty jokes with ease. The fact that she worked for Aldous meant she really had to be at least a little boring. He wasn't sure whether she was getting more flustered because she realized how her words sounded, though, or whether she was just tongue-tied in general, and so decided it would be best to avoid laughing or commenting on what she was saying, so as not to make her even more embarrassed.

    His grin only widened when she called him one of the best. He was sometimes a little sensitive about his foiled career ambitions with Quidditch; although he'd made a professional team, he'd had to leave before being promoted to first string, so he didn't really have any proof that he had what it took to be a successful professional player. Any praise in that department was more than welcome (not that, with his ego, he really needed a confidence boost).

    She was much younger than him, though, of that he was sure. He wouldn't wager a guess as to her exact age, but if they had been together at school it could only possibly have been for a year or two, he figured. Now the fact that he didn't recognize her made perfect sense; Ben tended to remember the upper classmen from his own Hogwarts days, since they'd already had established roles in the school by the time he'd arrived (not to mention he'd already heard about a good deal of them from his older brother), but he hadn't paid much attention to the first, second, or third years when he'd been at NEWT level.

    "Well, thank you very much," he said, returning what he assumed to be a rather flirtatious smile from the blond. "I'm glad you enjoyed watching me. You were in Gryffindor, then?" Just a guess - even Ben didn't remember the players on other houses' Quidditch teams from his first two years of school. If she had remembered not only his name and position, but his first name, it stood to reason that she'd been at all of his games and had most likely been in his house.
    #6
    His grin was beguiling, wasn't it? The sort that made more confident women weak in the knees and lesser practically puddles. She was the latter. Not that she considered anything to be pooling on her person nor between her now mercifully obscured legs. She just felt a bit unsteady on her feet. A wobble, if you will.

    "Yes. First to your Seventh."

    Moved to lean slightly against the mahogany desktop beside her, mostly for balance sake. She'd rather not flash him her underthings twice in one day, unintentional slip to the floor or otherwise. It was far too casual a maneuver for their situation, though. Her palms splayed back behind her, fingertips spread for stability, she looked almost as if she were propositioning him for something or other. The other being an activity she'd never experienced fully, let alone thought herself capable of proffering to a man in such an inappropriate fashion.

    "I attended near every game. You can say... I worshiped your form."

    The form of his play, of course. Not that she ought to have said that to him either, but the double entendre eked past her often too loose lips without pause. It was only when she realized she had coupled it with a curious slip of her powdered blue gaze down the length of his trousers, that she realized what a verbal mess she'd gotten herself into. But... this time? She didn't appear to be willing to take that comment back. It was, after all, only too true.

    @Reuben Crouch
    #7
    Ben was intrigued by how she leaned back against the desk, but the comment she followed it with (not to mention the glance, which he definitely caught) was just a step too far. There was no way that she was seriously propositioning him, because women didn't just do things like that - especially not in the Ministry. Certainly not in the department of international magical cooperation, the department run by none other than Chief Stick-in-the-Mud of the Ministry, Aldous Crouch.

    That was it; this was a trap. It had to be. Aldous had brought him back early from Canada and now he was testing him to see whether he deserved to be able to stay in the damn country.

    Ben coughed and glanced down at where her hands had splayed out on the desk. "Well, uhm, I don't suppose you know when my brother might be back, Miss?"

    He was not going back to Canada.
    #8
    The husky cough made it abundantly clear that he was switching topics, if his words didn't speak enough to that on their own. A fact which she ought to have been grateful for considering which avenue the conversation had turned toward unintentionally and yet she found herself mildly disappointed. How strange.

    "Oh, um... yes. I have that right here."

    Getting up and out of her lean with haste, she circled to the drawers on the opposite side of the desk. Rifling in a disorganized fashion, still somewhat disheveled by his continued presence, she found the scroll that held Aldous' itinerary perfectly penned by the man himself. Giving it a glance over as she walked, she only meant to take a few steps while examining his time table.

    "Looks like he has a brief meeting with a dignitary from Egypt just after lunch and then..."

    Just as she spoke that last word though, she found herself near toe to toe with Ben, glancing up slowly to meet his gaze.

    "...afternoon tea..."

    The words fell from her full lips distractedly, his sudden proximity causing her to feel unseasonably warm. Was anybody else parched? She swallowed thickly to rid herself of the uncomfortable feeling, finding it even drier as she searched for something else to say. Merlin help her if he didn't take his leave sometime soon.

    @Reuben Crouch
    #9
    He was relieved when she walked around to the other side of the desk, feeling as though he'd passed the test and she'd be all business, now. Which she was, for a few minutes. The clutter on her desk was even something endearing, if only because it reminded him of his own typical living situation and was distinctly not something he might associate with Aldous or the people who worked under him. When she started walking back over to him, though, she got a little close. Accidentally close? Intentionally close? He had no idea, but even if she wasn't doing this on purpose – even if she wasn't a spy staged here by Aldous – he couldn't very well take advantage of this kind of thing here.

    "Well, uh," Ben said, unsure how to get out of this situation exactly without calling direct attention to how close she'd gotten to him – which she seemed to have noticed herself, by this point. If she was purposefully trying to be seducing him, she was doing quite a job of it, with all that pretend innocence and golden curls and big baby-doll eyes and all, but he wasn't going to take the bait. "That sounds like a busy schedule. Maybe I'll call tomorrow instead."