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 1895. It’s time to join us and immerse yourself in scandal and drama interlaced with magic both light and dark.
Complete a thread started and set every month for twelve consecutive months. Each thread must have at least ten posts, and at least three must be your own.
Did You Know?
Did you know? Jewelry of jet was the haute jewelry of the Victorian era. — Fallin
It was a welcome surprise that she'd forgotten they would take boats instead of carriages to the castle. Up until then, she'd sorely started to miss her home - the train made her slightly nauseous and she missed the smell of the beach and sand. When they'd turned to the direction of the Black Lake as opposed to the carriages, she'd given a little skip of excitement. The smell of water reached her nostrils and she grabbed the nearest person next to her. "The boats!" she squeaked in excitement. "Oh, I forgot we were going on those, aren't you excited?"
Ever since he and Gertrude had gotten separated, Archie was a mess. His heart was racing at a hundred miles an hour as they were shuffled towards the boats... in the dark... which were set to sail over a black lake. He would have been happier if he'd had a friend or two to share the anticipation with, but instead he'd turned into a pile of anxious goo. It seemed some people didn't share the sentiment.
"Oh... uh, yeah. Boats!" he said, trying but failing to sound half as excited as she was. "You'd think after all these years they'd opt for something safer—like flying carpets." Flying carpets never sunk or got holes in them, and with proper enchantments could have magical guard rails. He'd much prefer the air over the sea.
"Flying carpets?" Sunday responded, her expression changing as confusion replaced excitement. Her grip loosened as she caught onto his tone. She looked him up and down - well, as much as she could in the dark - he didn't seem too enthused about the fact that they were going on a boat. "But boats and the water is so much better," she pointed out, wondering why he preferred flying carpets. "Plus you can fall off flying carpets, can't you? You fall out of a boat, you just land in water!" Her face brightened as if this were something to be releived about.
"Yes, flying carpets," he responded, a bit more confidently this time. Boats seemed like the safer option, at least on the surface, but he'd had way more time to ponder this from the moment he heard the word uttered on the way to the lake. "If you fall into the water from a boat, there's a chance no one could see you." And then he might drown, which would be the most inconvenient way to start off the new year. "But if you were to fall off a flying carpet—which I can assure you is rarer than boat accidents—at least someone would hear you scream."
The little witch's eyebrows raised in comprehension as they stopped at the edge of the docs. "I see," she responded, realizing she was still holding onto his arm and letting go. Having spent a majority of her life trying to get away from people trying to cling to her, Sunday would figure that she would enjoy spending time in a boat alone. "But...." Her mind wandered to the thought of her Uncle Arven – so adventerous, and regailng her of the stories he'd stored up on his travels.
"Wouldn't you hit the ground before someone heard you scream? What if you went into Muggle territory?" Muggles were nice, but Sunday knew enough from taunting her sisters that magic was not allowed outside of Hogwarts, much less near Muggles!
Archie eyed her with a mixture of amusement and concern, wondering where she was getting all these worries from. She must harbor (no pun intended) a certain fondness for boats.
"Even if that's the case, I'm sure they'd notice your absence quicker than if you slipped into the water. We're tiny enough where we might not make a loud splash," he pointed out, all the while boarding into the boat alongside the strange girl. "And I'm not even sure you could land in muggle territory over the Black Lake. Are there even nearby muggle villages?" he asked, brows raised.
"Well, you wouldn't slip in, would you?" Sunday replied, looking about at their surroundings. The familiar smell of wood caught her nose and she inhaled peacefully. This was like being back at home, she decided and settled herself in by wiggling into the seat more. "You'd make a splash, or at the very least if you couldn't swim you would thrash about, right?"
She thought again before sighing. "I suppose you're right, though. Our absences would be noticed quicker if we were to do that." As if this was a scenario that was to happen! Growing up constantly on holiday, she knew how to swim - her family made sure of it, especially seeing as they let her down at the beach so often. She was too lost in thought to answer his question about nearby Muggle towns.
"I'm really not sure," he admitted after about a minute. "I grew up around the desert, not the water." Egypt had the Nile, of course, but his time had rarely been spent there. He'd definitely spent time around the Black Lake since he'd moved back to Hogsmeade, but he'd never jumped in—he wasn't stupid!
"Let's just hope that doesn't happen," he said, already feeling uneasy as the boat swayed due to their movements. Surely these were enchanted boats; they had to have built-in protections!
"Oh!" she exclaimed, leaning over the edge slightly as the boat started to float serenely through the through the water."The desert you say? Pray, what was it like?" How fascinating! She'd spent a majority of her life by the water, and he by the sand and sun! "I bet it was hot, wasn't it? We had hot days at the beach but none compare to the dry desert, I suppose."
Sunday leaned further over the boat, staring at the reflection of the night sky in the water. So far, they couldn't see the castle - Sunday supposed it was just around the bend. "Do you see it?" she craned her head the opposite direction, leaning slightly into the boy. "Do you see the castle yet?"
Oh sweet Merlin, just the sight of watching her lean over the edge made his stomach tumble. He was tempted to reach over and tug on her robes, but propriety prevented him from doing that. Hopefully she was experienced with boats as she made it sound.
"Definitely hot. Hot and dry," he said nervously, placing his palms on either side of him to steady himself. Was the boat tilting over? He thought it was tilting over. "Not a lot of lakes around. We had the Nile, though, but it's said to be dangerous for anyone, wizard and muggle alike."
(Sort of like the Black Lake, he thought, with its tales of squids and merpeople and eternal darkness. Not his cup of tea.)
"No, not yet," he replied. "Still darkness." Around him, above him, and under him.
If he were able to see Sunday's eyes properly, he'd see they were wide as saucers. Merlin, the desert sounded so much different than the beach! Of course both had sand, but Sunday was rather more invested in the cool breezes and squishy wet sand beneath her toes. "Really, why is the Nile dangerous?" Really, Sunday thought, she must write to mummy and papa as soon as she could to suggest to them a vacation where there was lots and lots of desert!
She opened her mouth to tell the boy of her plans when a flicker of light caught her eye. She directed her attention to that, zeroing in on it like a bloodhound on its target. And sure enough... "There it is!" she cried enthusiastically as she shot up from her seat, completely forgetting where she was and the previous conversation she'd had with the new boy.
Actions, Sunday Fudge had yet to learn, had their consequences and this one's counterpart was a doozy. So often did she find gravity not on her side, and this so happened to be one of those times. The little witch lost her footing and found herself plummeting towards the water. She let out a shriek of surprise as she hit the glassy, serene surface with a small splash!.
Even if her shenanigans had his stomach churning, he was glad she'd taken interest in the Nile. At least he'd have something to focus on instead of the darkness around them.
"Well, the Nile is huge, and I mean huge. There's lots of dangerous magical and mundane creatures that live on its banks, from crocodiles and scorpions that lurk in the sand to the nundus that come for a drink every so often." He shuddered at the memory of a nundu that was forever imprinted in his mind. "And apparently the fish aren't so friendly either. I just hate the water either way—"
His ramble was interrupted by the sound of her screeching, and his gaze turned to look at the lights. The castle began to come into view, but before he could revel in its beauty, his attention was brought to the sound of a splash...
... and the complete disappearance of his new acquaintance.
His eyes widened in shock and panic, and he lurched from his seat. "Hey! Hey girl! Where'd you go?" he shouted into the darkness of the water, reaching down aimlessly in hopes of brushing against her arm. "You're not allowed to drown before we get to school! You'll get us in trouble," he continued in a muffled, strained panic as he continued to feel around in the water.
Sunday, for all intents and purposes, knew how to swim very well. Having spent a majority of her time at the beach, it followed that she took an accidental dip once in a while which meant she knew how to swim with clothes on. Robes, however, made it rather difficult to tread water but the 11 year old didn't panic too much. It was more the shock of just how cold water was that coaxed an involuntary squeak from her as she resurfaced.
The problem then became that the boat wasn't exactly pausing for her. Sure, it slowed down, but floated along at a dreamy pace just enough for Sunday to have to pump her arms a little faster to catch up where she heard the boy's response. "I'm here!" she called, fluttering her legs as fast as she could to propel her upwards enough that she could grab onto the side of the boat. Mercifully it seemed to be charmed to not tip too much under her weight, and she could simply hang onto the lip of the vessel whilst she got her breath back. The tightness of the cold had made her lungs work that much harder.
"Don't be silly, I won't drown!" she chirped, taking a final deep breath before she felt she could calm down. Out of the frying pan, into the fire as the saying went. Now that she'd hauled herself up, getting back in was going to be a little more difficult...
It was fortunate that the girl had not panicked, because Archie was a mess. His arm flailed about, banging against the side of the boat and soaking the entire sleeve of his robe as he felt about for a hand. Or a leg. Anything, really. He was not prepared to suffer the trauma of losing a classmate on his first day at Hogwarts.
Finally she spoke, and Archie might have been able to calm down if not for the fact that he still could not grab hold of her.
He shifted his body to follow the sound of her voice, slightly annoyed that she was on the other end of the boat. She obviously didn't require much effort on his part to steady herself, but she did seem a little stuck where she was. It was too dark to see much, but it was apparent both from the faint outline of her hair and the sound of dripping water that she was thoroughly soaked—and likely cold.
"Now, I can help you, but you'll have to help, too," he said, holding out an arm. He wasn't strong, really. In fact, he'd always been the weakest among his friends despite his height, and was definitely not strong enough to get an eleven-year-old girl to safety. "I'm going to pull on three now, you hear me? Yes? One... two... THREE," he said, and gave a tug.
Though her vision was clouded, she could see how vexed the boy was and she attempted to smile at him through the thin curtain of hair covering her eyes. She attempted to brush the hair out of her face, though it was rather hard considering she had one arm hooked around the boat, and the boat was still floating serenely along. Then, along came the boy's voice and she started to inch along the boat towards his voice.
"Right, then!" she chirped, realizing this meant real business, as she gave a small grunt and reached out and grasp the boy's hand. She grasped his other hand in hers. On three she gave another small grunt and flutter kicked her feet as hard as she could. The combination of her kick and his tug seemed to have done it. Perhaps a little too much, because she was pulled straight over the edge of the boat and collapsed right on top of him.
Maybe he was a wee bit stronger than he'd given himself credit for.
She collapsed on his chest with enough force to rattle the entire boat, thoroughly wetting his own hair and robes. He propped himself on his elbows and shot her a pointed glance that said 'really?', but the look faded from his face after a minute and was replaced with a smile and a muffled chuckle.
"You've got seaweed in your hair," he laughed, plucking away a piece that hung down in front of her face. He sat up then, gently pushing her weight off him. He looked down at his own robes and silently prayed that they'd dry before they reached the castle. He didn't want to bring any added attention to himself; he figured he'd already be getting interrogated about the girl's fall.
"Hey," he said after a momentary silence. "What's your name anyways?"
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