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 wished to write to you for some time now, but could not find the strength to until now. It is difficult to admit, both out of shame and fear of your reaction, but my moral compass demands it of me. I must tell you.
This is not an accusation of adultery, that much I can assure you. He was born before you were even married. I can also assure you that you were the only man who has ever visited my bed. I am not mistaken.
I don't know who's doing it. Do blackmailers usually give their names and addresses?
She says I've got a son which ... I mean, sure. I guess it could've happened. But why wait until now to say something unless this is some kind of blackmail? She's obviously not hoping I'll marry her. So what is this about? What does she want?
Okay, but — she didn't even tell me anything about him. Not how old he is or what he's like or — I mean isn't that the sort of thing she'd tell me if she thought I might be — sentimental?
I don't — should I reply, do you think?
I shouldn't, should I? I mean, the princess would lose her mind if she heard about this.
And suppose she is trying to blackmail me — writing her back and asking about him would be like admitting that he was mine, right? And I don't even know that I believe he is. Or that he exists. She could just be making this up, right?
I saw you in passing in public recently. I hadn't seen in years, and I didn't think I had much a reason to. You and I went our separate ways and circumstances worked out in a way that ensured I had no need to drag you into the situation. However, watching you on the street, I was startled to see how much he looks like you. It scared me in the moment, just a bit. I'm sorry if the knowledge is unwanted, but you deserve to know of him. If you'd like, I can tell you more.
He's a sweet boy and very nosy. He talks a lot, mostly in babbles still, and will try and hold a conversation with anyone willing. He loves attention and will climb onto furniture or hold onto your leg if he thinks it will get him just a little bit. He's not much of a troublemaker, but has a sneaky hand for sweets. He's got large brown eyes and has my hair, but I can see your smile in his and even your face shape.
His favorite game to play is healer—perhaps because we have them in the family. He'll take toy dragons and poke hem with a toy wand and wrap strips of fabric around their legs. I can't claim to know you well, but I know he's very unlike me in some ways. He isn't afraid of heights or running into a crowd of people with no safeguards. He's a good boy, albeit a reckless one sometimes.
![[Image: AAgFt3c.png]](https://i.imgur.com/AAgFt3c.png)
