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.
He was beat red, Sisse noted, and felt bad for the way she had teased him. She knew he wasn't interested in being close to her, but well.... she had only been trying to make light of the situation. Bravely, she tried to reassure him, "That's alright, simply makes it rather inconvenient to move." Hopefully that was enough he'd understand she wasn't mad.
"Are you sure you're alright?" With how fast he'd moved she was worried that perhaps he might be light headed now and as such found herself peering at him nervously.
Lester forced himself to laugh at her question — it came out a little high-pitched, but hopefully she wouldn't be able to tell that he was nervous. "I'm fine," he said, "Really, I promise." Sloane was going to make so much fun of him for this.
"If you're sure..." Sisse trailed off, waving away the thought. Not wanting to tear the fabric Sisse quickly grabbed her wand and cast a nonverbal hovering charm to move the branch. Once freed she stood herself up and reached forward her hand for Lester's. "Let me help you up."
Lester clasped Sisse's hand. (He felt his fingers tingle — but it wasn't from the fall. He'd been hoping he was over her.) Once she pulled him to his feet, he stood up and brushed the dirt off of his trousers. "Thank you," Lester said, sheepishly.
Touching him was a bad idea. Sisse realized it the moment she felt his hand in her own. She'd forgotten gloves and the warmth of his hand had jolts shooting up to her elbow. The moment he was standing again she dropped her hand back to her side. Her cheeks felt warm but that was foolish of her. Instead of dwelling on it she stepped back and looked away from his face, eyes glancing over him making sure he was alright. "Does standing feel alright?"
Lester laughed at her, gentle and natural this time. "I promise I'm fine," he said. He certainly could not stand to admit it if he wasn't — but he was really sure that he was alright.
That smile, that laugh, it was so normal, so like Lester and the six years they had been friends that Sisse found herself smiling back. "As long as you promise." She told him. And just like that it seemed that perhaps things might be able to mend themselves after all, there in the sunlight of the blooming summer Sisse felt like perhaps this was her second chance to truly call Lester Hatchitt a friend.