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.
With the same account, complete eight different threads where your character interacts with eight different usergroups. At least one must be a non-human, and one a student.
Did You Know?
Braces, or suspenders, were almost universally worn due to the high cut of men's trousers. Belts did not become common until the 1920s. — MJ
The evening was already somewhat of a somber once, but this conversation served to only sink her smile a little further. It seemed that, despite their optimism and their attempts to move forward as a family, they had seen tragedies that would have crushed others. She wished she could have been that strong. She wished she could have moved forward and taken the pain without making a public spectacle of herself. She wished—
She had many wishes, really—so many regrets she wished she could undo, so many relationships she wished she could mend, and so many opportunities she wished she'd have taken while she had the chance. Who knew? She could have been Mrs. Annabelle Gladstone, living a secluded life of luxury in Ireland if she hadn't rejected the man who claimed feelings deeper than friendship for her. She could have been a full healer by now if she'd written Mr. Jameshill when he'd inquired about her whereabouts.
There were so many things she could have been—but now, she was just Bella. Miss Scrimgeour to some, though it wasn't a surname she wore proudly. She was too awkward, too regretful to wear the Draper surname with pride, and now all she could do was awkwardly introduce herself to new acquaintances by her given name with the hopes that others wouldn't recognize her.
"But emotionally?" she asked, looking up at him in a way that could almost be called tenderly. "It's not one of those things you an move on from. I know. I've been there."
She was quiet for a spell and Jamie found himself watching her closely, wondering even what she was thinking. She was perhaps lucky Jamie was such a recluse. He hadn't recognized her name in the slightest. She waa an unknown entity to him entirely. Other than the fact that she was Mac's latest assistant anyways. Who apparently also had a habit of splinching herself by the looks of the missing finger.
"Ah but it is lass," He answered her, tapping her pert little nose with one of his fingers, "Ye don't forget, surely, but you need to move on. Shit happens, it always will. But if ye forever let it determine yer future, life's no longer worry livin'. Asides, ye learn from what harkens to ye one way or another. Good or bad."
Bella didn't know what compelled him to touch her—whether it was on the forehead or on the tip of her nose—but it left her feeling a little confused, a little suspicious, and more vulnerable than she'd like to admit. She'd become so touchy over the past few months; something as simple as a stranger tapping her shoulder could make her yelp, and she'd even shied away from her longtime friends' attempts to comfort her with their embraces. A pink flush touched her cheeks, and she immediately lowered her head to avoid eye contact while she tried to think up a response.
Though his reasoning sounded logical, she knew, as someone who had suffered enough bullshit over the past year and a half, that it wasn't that simple. Moving on was ideal, but few ever accomplished that.
"You say that," she said quietly, "but I know you know it's not that easy. You can push it aside or bury it deep within your heart, but it's always there. If you'd really moved on," she continued, "you wouldn't have hesitated to take me to the toddlings, I'm sure." She looked up at him with raised brows; she was sure she now knew why he was so hesitant to help her. People were easy enough to read most of the time.
The pink tinged cheeks weren't lost on Jamie. Perhaps the nose tap hadn't been in the best of taste but he'd hardly regret something like it. He'd just have to remember to perhaps not do something of the sort again in the future. She wasn't a MacFusty, after all. For all intents and purposes, she was to be regarded as a proper young lady. He just wasn't used to dealing with them much. Clearly.
"Nay, it's never easy," he responded with a shrug, "Nothing in life ever is, is it? Wouldn't be worth living if it all came too easy. And it will always linger in a sense but it doesn't mean you don't learn to live with it and move on with your life." He'd never forget the accident that day. Or any of the others that had come before and even after. But one couldn't dwell on it and let it hold a person back in their life or it would be a truly miserable existence.
He smirked at her bringing it back to him not taking her to see the toddlings. "Persistent lass ye are," he said with a light chuckle, "And I didn't hesitate. There was no hesitation in my no to bring you out there. It isn't safe. It's not even safe for the most experienced of dragonkeepers but it's still our job. S'not yours and I'm sure if you broached the topic with Mac, he'd tell ye the same thing I have. That they're dangerous and yer not to be around them."
Jamie MacFusty tried to pass himself as some sort of tough cookie, but there was no denying that he had his secrets—even if those secrets were no more than his true feelings. Though Bella had always been the sort to share her feelings openly and without hesitation, her experiences were beginning to teach her the value of mystique.
"Have you always been this stubborn?" she challenged, leaning forward so she could prop her elbows on the counter as she stood. She rested her face in her palms, staring up at him with wide blue eyes. "You first tell me that I need to toughen up if I'm to survive, yet tell me I'm too soft to handle what you valiant, strong MacFusty men deal with," she explained, the corners of her lips tugging up into a near-mischievous grin. "I'm not asking to handle the dragons—just see then, Jamie."
Jamie crossed his arms over his bared chest, the scratch now cleaned up well enough. He'd need to get off to bed soon enough and had honestly just begun to ponder pushing away from the counter to head in such a direction when she responded. Chuckling at first, all he could was shrug at the mention of being stubborn. He was fairly certain it was a familial trait. All MacFustys seemed to be stubborn in their own way, some more so than others, but it was still something they all had in common.
Still chuckling, he shook his head again. "Seeing them is just as dangerous," he said, dark eyes focusing on hers as he spoke, "There's a whole island designated just for the smarmy bastards. They're not to be taken lightly and even if you were to get to the island, there's never really any knowing just where they're all at. You could think you're hidden well enough then have one come across you from behind." He shook his head again, "You'll not get me to take you there under any circumstances." That firm tone was back when he said it. There was no amount of pleading and pushing she could do to get him to do otherwise.
She took mental note of all the information he (likely unintentionally) provided, knowing that the moment he left, she'd go running up to scribble what she knew down in her own personal research journal.
"A whole island for them," she echoed, an expression of sudden realization appearing on her face. She then abruptly pushed away from the counter, a wide, toothy smile across her face. "Well, I musn't keep pestering you for your help now. Thank you for putting up with me, I guess, but now I must bid you goodnight." Perhaps it was the hasty way she packed the cookies away, or maybe it was the way she avoided his eye contact as she shuffled about the room, but it was obvious that Bella was up to something.
Jamie realized a bit belatedly that he'd apparently said too much. Especially when she echoed back the words of the toddlings being on their own island. It didn't help her case any when she started moving about in a bit of a frantic manner and tried to make her excused to be off to bed in a rush. He watched her quietly for a moment but waited until she crossed his path again and he reached out to grab her arm, stopping her in her tracks and turning her to face him.
"Hold up there, lass," he said quickly, amusement in his eyes but his voice still holding its stern tone, "Do ye know how many islands make up the Hebrides? Do ye know how inhabitable most of 'em are?" A brow was raised as he asked the questions, watching her face closely to see that she was taking in the questions. "Yer a fool if ye think you'll be off to them by yerself and without the assistance of someone that knows the islands," he added, all amusement gone from his eyes, "Ye'll die and no one will know."
Bella was not one to relent; what she lacked in subtlety, she made up for in stubbornness. Despite her attempts to stare up at him with absolute innocence, staring up at him with big, blue eyes through dark lashes, she was unable to wipe the cheeky grin off her face. If she hadn't won this argument already, she would before she sun rose.
"I suppose you'll be accompanying me, then?" she asked, tugging her bottom lip between her teeth in anticipation. Despite his own stubbornness, she doubted Jamie wished to see her wander right into her demise.
Jamie bristled slightly at the way she looked up at him, trying to feign innocence. He also, unfortunately, couldn't help the sudden pang of desire that ran through him as she looked up at him through thick lashes. That was a line of thought he really didn't want to go down. It was dangerous. Honestly, more dangerous than the damned toddlings were in his opinion.
Releasing her arm, he all but growled at her. "Yer not to try and find the toddling island, do ye hear me?" he question, more force to his voice again, "Not by yerself. I'll talk with Mac and we'll decide what's best. But if yer going to be so reckless as to try an go by yerself, I'll have to see what we can muster." He looked at her with a focused sort of glare. He doubted Mac would go for it but clearly the woman was as stubborn as the rest of them were.
Jamie's reaction was frustrating to say the least. His narrowed gaze and harsh tone of speaking made it clear that he was angry, but she wasn't sure whether he was angry at her or if he was angry that she'd bested him. Her mouth fell open, though any explanation that she wished to offer in an attempt to soothe him refused to leave her tongue.
She took a step backwards and lifted a hand towards the spot where he'd roughly grabbed her. She lowered her gaze to the floor, unable to meet his eyes again. He didn't understand; it wasn't her goal to disobey things or put herself in danger for the heck of it. Couldn't he see that her time here was limited, even if she proved useful, to the length of time it took Mr. MacFusty to write his book? She'd be out on the streets again before she knew it!
"I just want to gain something," she offered weakly, rubbing her palm up and down her arm. "When I leave here—when Mac has no use for me anymore—I'll need to have some skills, some knowledge, to help me find another position. If the dragons don't kill me, the hardship I'll suffer once my employment ends will," she explained. "If you help me, I won't annoy you any further."
Jamie had upset her or something. He wasn't really sure. He didn't deal with women on a regular basis. Emotions and feelings weren't things he knew well. Beyond anger, drunk, and desire, he knew nothing. He could hardly show any of those with this lass. She was Mac's employee. His assistant or whatever it was she'd said she was. But clearly she had some of her own deep seated fears. And though he didn't know her story, didn't really want to, he couldn't help but to feel something akin to sympathy.
Problem was, he still didn't think that the toddlings would help her in any aspect. Unless she did want to die. That would be about the only way they could help her and she clearly wasn't seeing that the way he was putting it out there.
"I said I'd talk to Mac, didn't I?" he asked, still watching her even if she was no longer looking at him, "I can't promise ye anything though. You've got to understand that. I'm not sure how working with dragons is going to teach you anything that you can live on though. It's not like there's dragons everywhere."
"But I don't want you to talk to Mac. He'll say no," she huffed, crossing her arms over her torso. "I'm not sure if he cares about me specifically or if he's just the fatherly type," (It was probably the latter.) "but I'm sure he'd rather see me cooped in a library studying books."
Bella liked to read, but as she'd mentioned to multiple people on multiple occasions, she was much better-suited to work that required constant movement. She disliked idleness, hence why she'd failed as a debutante.
"If I'm to work with magical creatures as a living, I doubt few would turn away a woman who'd proven capable of handling dragons," she explained. "If I can do that, I'm sure I can convince someone I'm capable of handling, say, mooncalves or Abraxans."
Jamie chuckled, smirking at her response. She knew the answer would be no, even from Mac, so she didn't want him speaking to his brother about it. "So let me get this right," he said, smirking still with a shake of his head, "You want me to not speak with your boss and risk him being angry with me for getting his assistant killed on my watch? Sounds like a brilliant idea."
The sarcasm dripped heavily from his voice as he spoke, regarding her with a raised brow still. With a sigh, he rubbed at the back of his neck before bringing both hands to rub at his face.
"Ye won't be learning how to handle them if I take ye there," he found himself saying, "You'd strictly observe and nothin' more. But still, no promises." He still wasn't entirely sold on taking her out to the island. And even if he did, it wouldn't be any time soon.
It did sound like a bad idea, but she thought there were ways around it. She wasn't a servant, and despite her position here, she still had time to herself where she wasn't under the direction of Mr. MacFusty. If there was any objections, she could choose to go on her own time, right? Right?
"He's my boss, not my owner," she pointed out. "I have the free will to go where I please when I'm not on the clock - and if you're with me on MacFusty lands, I'd technically be doing no wrong."
"And anyways," she said, her gaze snapping up to meet his, "I promise not to be reckless once we get there. Despite what you may think, I'm not actually looking to die."
Jamie rubbed at the back of his neck and closed his eyes as his head tilted back to face toward the ceiling. He wasn't drunk enough for any of this. Exhausted, perhaps, but not anywhere near the state of drunk he needed to be at. Taking in a deep breath, he let it out as a sigh but didn't move from his position of facing up to the ceiling.
"Just cause he doesn't own you doesn't mean his ass won't be on the line as well should something go wrong," he answered simply as he finally tilted his chin back down but moved his hand to pinch at the bridge of his nose, "Just cause yer with me out there doesn't mean he don't have some sort of responsibility for your being out here to begin with."
Her proclamation of not wanting to die didn't really help his mind any on the matter. No one ever really meant to die when pleading to go see the toddlings but it didn't stop some from actually doing so. But if he were to take her there, she had to realize it wasn't just him that she'd be hurting if something went south. There was Mac to think of. And apparently Mac's family. She had been making Issy cookies after all.
"Not to mention his family," he added, looking at her face on once more, "Ye said ye were making cookies for Issy. What's the little lass to think if her friend goes and gets mauled by one of those beasts?"
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