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.
september 21st, 1893 — parkinson estate, wellingtonshire, hogsmeade
It felt wrong to be away from Hogwarts so early in the school year; she should be huddling with Chessie in a quiet alcove, whispering gossip to her or studying for exams in the library right now, but instead she was in full mourning, sitting bored inside her eldest brother’s home while the older ones discussed what the plans for the funeral the next morning would be like. It would’ve been a more solemn occasion but the grandfather clock was going haywire and the piano was completely out of tune; probably from disuse, as Minnie doubted her brother’s new wife knew how to play anything pleasant as she was hardly the kind of woman she would think he’d normally go for, regardless of her nice family. If that godforsaken clock goes off one more time..., her brother threatened before yet again, it was chiming every five minutes and driving them all completely mad; it seemed like that time was the very last, when it startled her sister-in-law into dropping her soup spoon when they finally decided to send an owl for emergency repairs. They couldn’t very well host anyone with a clock acting so terribly annoying.
Within the next few hours and half a dozen more annoying chimes, they finally had someone willing to come look at the clock and Minnie was grateful; the ladies gathered in one of the sitting rooms to have tea and chat, while the men left to the smoking room, deciding to leave both of the Hanrahans to their work. Eventually, Minnie tired of having tea and talking about pointless things, especially as her mind kept wandering to the two people in her family’s parlor, who could finally settle her mind by telling her whether or not Elijah was okay. He hadn’t written her a single letter since the dragon attack and she had feared the worst, though while peeking out from behind her sister when the Hanrahans arrived, she didn’t see them in mourning clothing, so perhaps that was a good sign. But then there was also the fact she considered, did vampires mourn? Wouldn’t they celebrate death because it was what they were? Could Elijah even actually die? She wasn’t entirely certain how this whole vampire thing (or half vampire thing) worked if she was honest and she wasn’t sure what was polite enough to ask.
Feigning a headache, Minnie excused herself from the sitting room and quietly made her way to the parlor, deciding to peek in and watch; Mr. and Mrs. Hanrahan seemed to be working well on the piano and the clock, and she couldn’t help but think that while she was a bit nervous around Mr. Hanrahan, being that he was a vampire and she was quite sure he could bleed her dry if he wanted to, she thought Mrs. Hanrahan was rather pretty, if not rather plain (in Minnie’s eyes, as someone who could afford gaudy jewelry and fine silks). But how to ask them about Elijah without sounding like she cared? It wasn’t something she even told Chessie about, so she certainly wasn’t about to tell them how much she fancied him. Taking a moment to think, she realized she needed to think fast because she was now realizing they saw her staring at them from behind the corner, she slowly came out and walked toward them. “Hello, pardon me, but you’re Elijah Hanrahan’s parents, correct? We haven’t met, but I’m Jessamine, and I used to tutor him,” She wasn’t quite sure how to ask, to get to the point, so instead she said, “I do hope his O.W.L.s were satisfactory when they arrived… he worked very hard and… well, I think you should be proud.”
It wasn't often that two things went wrong in one house at the same time — an instrument out of tune and a grandfather clock going utterly haywire at the same time was so unlikely, Siobhan wasn't sure she'd been to a house where both existed. At least they were both in the same room at the Parkinson house, and thus did not require them to be led from one location in the house to another. There had been incidents of multiple clocks going wrong at once, but those were always in separate rooms. This was the family's primary parlor. The contents of the parlor alone must've cost near as much as the Hanrahans' entire home — not that Siobhan would ever admit to jealousy. But she felt a twinge of it.
Siobhan, of course, was just Vincent's built-in transportation and assistant on these house calls. She really had little to nothing to do personally, so as Vincent worked on the clock, she found herself admiring an art piece on the wall, hands neatly folded at her waist, until she spotted the youngest Parkinson watching them from around the corner. She knew Vincent had likely already noticed her presence — vampiric senses were the one thing she envied, though she wasn't quite ready to cross the line and give up her magic — but she knew it was up to her to greet the interruption. So she did, with a smile.
Miss Parkinson's glowing praise for their son, however, was not at all what Siobhan expected from the daughter of a known purist. Siobhan felt herself tearing up at the praise, though she blinked back the tears as best she could. "Thank you," she said thickly. "We are very proud of him." She, of course, had no idea that Jessamine was really after news of her son's welfare, nor that by the triggered waterworks, she could (and likely would) give the girl the wrong impression of Elijah's well-being. The only clue that he was all right was that Siobhan wasn't speaking in the past-tense, but then, did any parent ever want to refer to their child in such a way? "Sorry," she said after a beat, withdrawing a handkerchief from her pocket and dabbing at her eyes.
Jessamine told herself before she came out here that whatever she found out, she would hold it together, even if it was news that Elijah had been killed in the dragon attack; she would offer her condolences, being polite, and would wait until she was alone to experience any sort of emotion because it would be safer that way. However, when Siobhan started to tear up at Minnie’s praise of her son’s hard work in his studies, all the color drained from her face and she was certain that her heart suddenly stopped. As if on instinct, she felt one of her fingers on the opposite hand start to toy with the bracelet she wore; the only one that didn’t match her mourning jewelry but in a way, served the same purpose of bringing her comfort during this time. It wasn’t the first time Minnie ever had a panic attack, but she really did try not to have them in front of strangers.
“I see,” she almost squeaked, trying her hardest to keep her tone even and her composure steady. Would it be rude if she just excused herself now? Siobhan was speaking about him in present tense, at least, she tried to reason with herself, but then she considered that more than once she had done the same when speaking of Wisteria as her death was still so fresh; no mother wanted to speak of their children in the past tense so soon and it was that thought that kept Minnie from feeling completely at ease. “No, it’s…” she started when the woman apologized for starting to cry, Jessamine put a hand on the piano next to her in order to try and steady herself before she collapsed as she was starting to feel dizzy, “I’m...I’m so sorry, I…I didn’t know.”
Almost immediately, Siobhan knew she'd given the poor girl the wrong impression. How many people had the Parkinson family certainly lost to the tragedy? Siobhan wasn't sure, but she knew it was at least one, with the mourning jewelry and everything. So many families had lost, but the Hanrahans had indeed been lucky. "Oh, he's all right!" she immediately assured, moving to help support the girl. "A little...burned, but alive. Recovering at home!"
She couldn't have any clue how close Elijah and Jessamine were. After all, most of their connection had been at school, away from Siobhan's watchful eye. She did notice the bracelet after a moment, vaguely recognizing a couple pieces that could be inner workings of a watch, and smiled softly. She didn't draw attention to the bracelet, or the fact that she knew what it had been made of, and likely who by. "Our maid is keeping a close watchful eye on him."
The sheer fact that they were here at all was frustrating. But if course he had relented to the task himself. Victor had his own appointment and business was business. That didn't mean he liked it. This was their first home job since the dragon attack and Elijah was still in recovery. Working in the shop was one thing. Vincent could drag himself in there for ten, thirty, maybe even sixty minutes a piece to work on various projects. Take projects back with him no matter the mess. He was never far. But here, Hogsmeade of all places, he felt so far away. Too far.
In his work pouch, which was magically expanded years ago, a pocket held supply of blood pops that was once numerous. He'd been going through them like... clockwork... without a word. He was stressed out. He didn't want that stress going anywhere else. This clock would hopefully not take too much longer. Yet in came one of the daughters to chat. Wasn't that odd in the best of times? Wasn't she in mourning? Siobhan was the natural buffer at the best of times, but right now. Oh for fuck sake. He kept working. Giving occasional glances and switching from an empty stick to a fresh pop. "Indeed, yes, where we should be." He muttered to himself. He wasn't normally like this in the least. He knew it was unprofessional. But his wife should be comforting their child, not somebody else's.
Jessamine was fighting against her own body to not collapse in grief like she just about did during Wisteria’s funeral, but it was almost proving to be a losing battle as she had to grip the piano to not fall over so quickly. Thankfully, Siobhan noticed the signs of her panic and immediately went to reassure the young lady that Elijah had not lost his life in the dragon attacks, though still, upon hearing that he was still burned and needed to be in recovery, one of Minnie’s hands went to her mouth in horror. With Siobhan helping support her, she took a seat on the piano bench so she could rest until the color returned to her face. She heard Vincent say something, or at least sound coming from his direction that didn’t sound like clock fixing tools, but it was too quiet for her to make out exactly what he had said, nevertheless her eyes flickered over to him for a moment.
Her hand moved from her mouth and she clasped her hands on her lap, once again, she tried to keep herself composed; even if Siobhan only suspected she and Elijah were friends, Minnie knew that it could get her into a lot of trouble at home because her father wouldn’t approve of her having male friends, especially not ones below her station, and especially ones that were halfbreeds. “As I said, I…tutored him,” she felt she had to reiterate that, as if somehow explaining her reaction to what she thought was his death, what her relationship was to him, “I’m glad to hear he is alright and he has someone watching over him. It would have been a shame if…” she trailed off, then, looking at her lap, “He was always very kind...he is very kind.”
Maybe under different circumstances... no, probably not. He didn't like how she was talking and he would get sick of it no matter how stressed out he was already. The only difference this time was his wife was vulnerable and that just made things worse. Tossing another stick into his bag, he finally tossed the last tool in as well. Fuck it.
"Miss Parkinson. To be clear. It is not a crime to be friends with any one of our children. The insinuation that your repeated language to the contrary is degrading and I don't appreciate it. I also don't appreciate the distress you have put my wife under during our time of hardship." He clipped his bag and stood fully, making his way directly to his wife. He gently grabbed her hand with his free one. "I am sorry for your losses. Good day."
He looked at his wife with an expression of 'this conversation is over, let's go'.
Siobhan smiled as she pulled away from Jessamine, though she did glance at her husband for a moment. She, unlike Jessamine, was used to Vincent's personality, and could tell he was in a dark mood, even if she didn't hear exactly what he said. The blood pops were enough to set her teeth on edge — he was going through a whole week's supply in the span of a couple days right now, and they could only afford more with Gabrielle's help. Still, she turned her gaze back to Jessamine, and resumed smiling. "He is a very kind boy, and I'm glad he has at least one friend who cares so much about him," she said, keeping her voice soft enough that only Jessamine and Vincent could really hear it.
Now, Siobhan had no way of determining that Jessamine was the owner of the snowy owl who'd brought near-daily letters addressed to Elijah. No way to deduce that Jessamine and Elijah were closer than just friends. But she did have that age-old hint of a mother's instinct, and that instinct was telling her there was something more here than just tutoring and friendship. She wouldn't call it out, of course. She knew better than to say anything about that, in front of Vincent or in the Parkinson household, where there could be ears anywhere. But she wasn't ready to leave yet. She didn't pull away from Vincent, but she did tuck her handkerchief into her pocket again and set her hand on Jessamine's shoulder. "It'll all be all right," she reassured. There would be obstacles, but hopefully not the ones Siobhan feared most. The government.
She smiled, feeling much calmer when Siobhan expressed she was glad that Elijah had at least had one friend who cared about him; Minnie hoped that once he healed up enough, he would take the time to write to her again, because it really had been hell not hearing from him when she was fearing the worst. If things had been different, maybe she would have told the woman that she had raised a wonderful boy that made her feel loved and cared for even when she didn’t feel she deserved it, maybe gave her a message to take back to her son that told him about how she loved him and wanted him to heal and not to worry about the Hogsmeade trip coming up, but things were not like that and so she had to keep it close to her chest for now.
Jessamine’s face fell when Vincent stood up, however, and chastised her for her comment about being Elijah’s tutor and therefore trying to distance herself from him so much; her cheeks flushed pink, embarrassed that she had given him such an awful impression of her character as that was certainly not the way she wanted him to know her. “I apologize,” she bit her lip nervously as she clasped her hands together, trying to look Vincent in the eye so it would appear more genuine, “It wasn’t my intention.” Elijah always spoke highly of his father, even once said that she would like him, but it seemed all she did was make him think she was no better than any other hateful purist, which, maybe she was, but she had tried so hard to grow past that. Her eyes flickered to Siobhan when she placed a hand on her shoulder and she smiled a little, once again so badly wishing she could tell her the things she must keep secret, “I hope so…and I hope Elijah recovers quickly. I’m sorry, again.”
Siobhan understood much better than Jessamine probably thought she did. After all, Siobhan had essentially broken things off with her parents and siblings, replacing her old world with a new, harder world, one where she had to work for even the little things. "I'll let him know you're thinking of him," she said kindly, "and as soon as he's able, I'm sure he'll write."