Welcome to Charming, where swirling petticoats, the language of flowers, and old-fashioned duels are only the beginning of what is lying underneath…
After a magical attempt on her life in 1877, Queen Victoria launched a crusade against magic that, while tidied up by the Ministry of Magic, saw the Wizarding community exiled to Hogsmeade, previously little more than a crossroad near the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. In the years that have passed since, Hogsmeade has suffered plagues, fires, and Victorian hypocrisy but is still standing firm.
Thethe year is now 1894. It’s time to join us and immerse yourself in scandal and drama interlaced with magic both light and dark.
I have not heard from you since we left for the Sanditon, a fact I hope can be attributed to your busyness rather than your untimely demise. The subject of death has been one has continued to circulate around the resort despite our distance from Hogsmeade; I confess it's too much for my nerves!
This summer was supposed to be a joyous one filled with Hogwarts planning and school shopping! We were supposed to talk all about where we plan on being sorted, what pets we'll take, and what friends we might make!
While I have not tragically perished yet, boredom threatens to be my undoing. Colonel Whiskers is my lone companion in this foggy prison, and I begin to worry that I shall never escape it for Hogwarts. I have heard that there are those who speculate that it strips magical ability from children, turning them into squibs. This worries me, and I am jealous indeed that you have been able to flee to safety!
What is it like on the outside? I have scarcely even left the house in days and am desperate for news.
Yours in tedium,
Rex
July 24, 2018 – 1:28 PM
Last modified: August 4, 2018 – 9:09 PM by Flora Mulciber.
I don't think the fog could turn a magical child into a squib, and you are very magical indeed, Cousin! Have you ever heard of such a thing in the entire history of the magical community? I certainly haven't and I'm sure Merriweather would have told the tale to scare me if such a thing had happened!
The outside is still as boring as ever — it still feels like I'm trapped. All I wish to do is go to London to get my wand, as I've met another boy here who already has his!
I wish you were here. Merriweather seems sick of me and there's so few other children are age to speak to!
I wish I was there too, if only so that I might feel alive once more. Uncle Orlando seems fascinated by the fog and I want to feel the same, but instead I'm so dreadfully worried—perhaps it does not make me a squib, but still traps me here into the autumn and prevents me from going to Hogwarts. What shall I do then?
I am sure that if you asked her, your mother would be happy indeed to take you shopping for a wand sooner than later, especially if some dreadful rapscallion is showing off about it where you are staying. Aunt Rufina has never cared to see you suffer, after all; we are truly fortunate in the mothers we wound up with for all that mine is dead
Wish I was there,
Rex
August 4, 2018 – 9:19 PM
Last modified: August 4, 2018 – 9:22 PM by Flora Mulciber.
I we could not attend Hogwarts together, I hardly believe our families would allow us to go uneducated. Perhaps they'll send us abroad to explore faraway lands. Beauxbatons' campus is supposed to be stunning.
I suppose it wouldn't hurt to approach her with the request—but perhaps I'll give it a few days. I wish I could say that the Sanditon's atmosphere makes you "feel alive", but it's hard to do so when it's run by a ghost (albeit a lively one, if that makes any sense). Sometimes I like to pretend that I've been marooned here while the warriors of our world fight the treacherous fog-monster in a land far away, but then I remind myself I'm being silly.
You are much stronger than I am, Rex. I would have surely perished already from boredom.
Attending Beauxbatons would give me an opportunity to practice my French, which my governess insists is of utmost importance*, but I should miss the family dreadfully and "Colonel Whiskers" just does not sound right in French. So long as I am not left to a governess forever, though, I think I could be content with any sort of learning environment.
(As long as it gets me out of this fog!)
Pretending is a wonderful way to pass the time. I try to pretend I am here voluntarily, but I don't think I have as much imagination as you do.
Perhaps a direct translation might sound silly, imagine calling him simply "Whiskers"—the French equivalent is "Moustaches" and it sounds delightfully silly! (Or blend English and French and call him Colonel Moustaches, which is even more amusing in my opinion!) I would be filled with absolute sorrow if I were not able to attend Hogwarts in the fall, but as long as we're together things can not so so bad, right?
I think the main concern is your ability to get into Hogsmeade, and my ability to get out of it. Perhaps the Ministry will carve a path through the Forbidden Forest and require us students to walk in by way of skirting around the fog? It sounds foolhardy, but preferable to never attending at all.
Perhaps we should devise our own plan to address the issue? After all, so long as we can get ourselves to the castle, they must sort us, mustn’t they?
While that sounds absolutely terrifying, it would surely make for an adventure later in life. Imagine one day telling our children that we had to embark on a harrowing quest through the Forbidden Forest in order to receive an education; they will never dare cross us or complain about their problems!
Perhaps we could send a letter of suggestion? If we're able to devise a solution to the Hogwarts problem, they might award us with Special Services to the School - and some well-deserved house points!
