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 1896. It’s time to join us and immerse yourself in scandal and drama interlaced with magic both light and dark.
Complete five threads of five posts or more where your character experiences bad luck, such as stepping in a chamberpot, losing the rings for a wedding, etc...
Did You Know?
One of the cheapest homeless shelters in Victorian London charged four pennies to sleep in a coffin. Which was... still better than sleeping upright against a rope? — Jordan / Lynn
If he was being completely honest, the situation didn't look good, but Sylvano was not in the habit of being completely honest about anything. No reason to start now.
— Sylvano Capobiancoinyou & me & the war of the endtimes
February 1st, 1896 — Some Random Person's House in the British Countryside
"I need you to bear with me now," Early said, hand clasped carefully around his cousin's elbow as he led her from the greenhouse.
Parties were less common during the wintertime, but the wealthy and jobless among them never failed to think up some way to entertain even when the outdoors were uninhabitable. In this case, the hostess had managed to transform the greenhouse in the perfect winter wonderland, except the snow had been a result of a piss poor transfiguration job and had left a stale, powdery odor in the air that he was certain he'd have in his nose for days.
But it wasn't the odor or the beginning of the resulting headache that had prompted him to pull her away from the revelry.
"—because I need your help." And she would help him, he thought, because she was Elsbeth: curious to a fault, and infinitely less anxious about doing things she oughtn't be than he was. "I have to retrieve something from the house. I have no idea what it is, but I have clues."
(The less explanation, he figured, the better. For him, for her, for everyone involved.)
Rory hadn’t been available as a chaperone, and though Elsie had thought Jia wouldn’t mind coming along, she was rather glad that Early happened to offer to accompany her to this particular event. At first, merely because she enjoyed her cousin’s company immensely; however, as he led her from the rather unfortunate smelling greenhouse and to the - house? - Elsbeth was extremely glad that her cousin had offered.
“Oh?” She asked, her spine straightening as she blinked expectantly at her cousin. “You have no idea what it is that we’re retrieving?” She echoed, then leaned closer, nearly on her tip-toes to whisper discreetly to him: “Are we stealing something?” Her tone implied she wouldn’t necessarily be against it, as she had complete faith her cousin would have good reason for doing such an act of treachery.
"Not stealing, no." Or at least he didn't think so. It would hardly be becoming of gentleman—ridiculous, annoying, and unusually stupid, but gentleman nonetheless—to send each other to commit petty crimes for amusement's sake.
(Well, now that was he was thinking about it, it didn't seem so out of character for them at all... No, he couldn't think about it that hard.)
"We're retrieving something," he insisted, stealing a glance over his shoulder as they approached the house. They'd all been in the piano room earlier, drinks and card game spreads abandoned for the main event outside, so it wasn't odd that they'd go back inside to retrieve, say, a forgotten wand.
That was the excuse he'd given. Never mind that his wand had been poking him against the thigh the entire time, nearly burning a hole through his pocket with the guilt of the lie. Merlin, he hated this.
"It is small, red, and will explode if we do not find it by the end of the day." Or in their case, the end of the party, since he didn't imagine Mr. and Mrs. [Name] had any plans to keep them overnight. "And I might be cast out of Flint's if I don't bring it back."
Not stealing, then. Admittedly a small part of Elsie deflated now that her imagination had run a tad wilder than was expected. Nevertheless, she followed her cousin dutifully into the house, catching as he tossed a quick glance over his shoulder. She itched to mirror his action, in case they were being suspiciously followed, but she resisted and kept her gaze forward.
“‘Curiouser and curiouser,’ said Alice,” Elsie quoted under her breath. Small, red, incendiary, and quite possibly Early’s downfall if they did not retrieve it! “Is it dangerous? Oh, is it some boys club thing?” She inquired under her breath, wrinkling her nose. “Something vulgar, or perhaps some sort of initiation thing?”
Dangerous? He supposed the explosion could be dangerous, but it seemed rather out-of-charater for the men at Flint's, especially when this hunt took place at the home of one of their peer's.
"I hope not," he said, smiling sheepishly, "and no—not an initiation. It was a bet, actually," he admitted.
A poorly agreed-upon bet for certain. That one was one thing he'd always hated about himself—he was so quick to shut down any attempts at tomfoolery, which made him a greater target than if he'd just kept his mouth shut. And because he hated being seen as a coward, he always ended up going along with the nonsense he was being roped into. The worst part, though? He was just self-aware enough to know that about himself but not enough to figure out how to prevent himself getting into these situations to begin with.
