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 am cursed," he said, too confused and exasperated to stop and worry about his words being twisted. "But it's nothing to do with you. Or our — hypothetical son. It's — fuck," he said, as it caught up to him that he couldn't expect anything he said now to get through to her.
"You don't hear me," he said, taking a step back and throwing his hands in the air. "Maybe if you'd ever loved me. Maybe then you would have."
~~~ but I'm stuck trying not to come off crazy ~~~
The vile things Ezra was now spewing at her were so out of character for him that Rosalie could do nothing but stare. Even throughout their initial separation he had remained more civil than this. She didn't understand where half of it was coming from (or, rather, she knew it was incredibly improper of her to be in the closet with him but she never once thought he'd use it as ammunition against her).
She felt for the doorknob behind her. Ezra had gone beyond what was fair and into dived far into needless cruelty. He had a penchant for hurting her now, she realized. First at Valentine's Day by pouring water all over her dress (not a physical hurt, but an embarrassing one) and then again at the Coming Out Ball by seething how intensely he wanted nothing to do with her. Ezra enjoyed to get his digs in where he could, Rosalie never would've believed that about him before.
"Oh I hear you perfectly," Rosalie seethed. Then, she moved enough that she could begin to open the door and continued, "This will never happen again."
Oh, she'd heard that. What the fuck, Ezra wondered. Was there any rhyme or reason to what he was allowed to say to her? He was increasingly frustrated with the situation — and increasingly frustrated with her, to be honest. One conversation in which he'd said something entirely out of character, entirely unbelievable, and she'd thrown their whole relationship away without a second glance. And it made everything that had happened since then seem more suspect, also. She'd approached him first when he'd returned to society, despite believing he had keen to sacrifice their child for his own self-interest? She'd followed him to this closet and been willing to let him kiss her, let him touch her, let him do whatever he wanted to her, while still thinking so little of him?
"Not with me," he said venomously. "I'm sure you'll have no trouble finding a replacement." If she was apparently willing to sleep with someone who planned to kill her child, it didn't say anything particularly good about her personal standards.
~~~ but I'm stuck trying not to come off crazy ~~~
Rosalie no longer cared what others would think when they took in her rumpled skirts and smudged makeup. She was no longer considering the long term implications of being caught leaving a closet that her once fiance was still within. None of it mattered so long as she no longer had to breathe the same air as him. She had loved this man — loved him still up until minutes ago — and Rosalie could no longer fathom how she ever did.
Without so much as another word, Rosalie turned the knob in her hand and fled into the party.
![[Image: o7xGVB5.png]](https://i.imgur.com/o7xGVB5.png)