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.
June 26th, 1893 — Staff Tearoom, Hogsmeade Hospital
His first day—not as a healer, of course, for that had come and gone years ago. But this was rather more intimidating: Gideon Browne had paid his dues, and was now quite officially the Assistant Head of Artifact Incidents. It was a title that brought with it both ample responsibility and a new phase of his life. To the former, he was no longer responsible for only his own patients: indeed, he had healers, some with more experience, under him now. To the latter, well, this promotion had Gideon feeling particularly established, and with establishment came opportunities to...
"Miss Chevalier!" he greeted brightly as he came into the tearoom, seeing only the poisons healer in the room. Miss Chevalier was a bit of an antidote herself, Gideon could not help but think, cheeks pinking slightly— she was always an altogether welcome sight. "A good morning to you—are you just beginning your day, or ending it?"
In truth, Tabitha was starting to enjoy the night shift. She was able to focus on the potions side, brewing and stocking and sorting. She adored working with patients, but after the debacle at the flower show and her newly-acquired dearly departed shadow, Tabs thought staying out of the spotlight for a little while would be good for her.
After a long evening of tending to their few overnight patient and brewing countless antidotes, she was ready for some tea and something to eat. She would be leaving soon, but would have missed breakfast at home and she didn't dare ask for something to be prepared for her after her shift. She sat near the corner with tea and a kouign amann, a little taste of home before she headed back to her house.
She was looking over her inventory list while she sipped on her tea, when Mr. Browne's voice interrupted her thoughts. "Good morning Mr. Browne," she greeted with a small smile. She had embarrassed herself in front of him too many times before for her not to sit up a little straighter and put her hands in her lap. Not to mention he was her superior at work now. "Leaving soon. Been a quiet night." Thank Merlin. "Congratulations on your promotion." She added with more enthusiasm.
Leaving soon. At this, Gideon felt his smile drop just a fraction, but it felt as though his stomach was threatening to bottom out entirely. Of course the pair did not always work in tandem—aside from working on different wards, one did not always have the same schedule, though Gideon hoped his would be much more sedate with the promotion. Still, he had rather hoped he might get to see her throughout the day.
(He hoped this most days.)
"My promotion?" he asked, having, for a fleeting moment, forgotten (she was smiling), "Oh! Yes!" Gideon remembered himself swiftly, cheeks warming with embarrassment.
"You're very kind—it is quite the honour to have been selected, though if I may confess, I am rather intimidated by it still."
Tabi nearly chuckled at his apparent lapse in memory, but he remembered himself soon enough and so she settled to soften the smile already gracing her features. "I imagine it's quite the undertaking, but I'm sure you can handle it, otherwise you wouldn't have been selected in the first place." Tabi had no hopes for any such promotions in her future, so she was happy when those she knew around her to were granted the privilege. Tabs could be very content with her position however. She was better with people than paperwork. She was coming to find she enjoyed the night shift far more than the day shift, too for similar reasons. Perhaps she would ask Mr. Fisk to make the switch more permanently, instead of on a fill-in basis. He seemed a little off lately however, and so she wouldn't press him for a while yet.
"How are you finding the position, though?" Certainly it presented its own challenges, but must have been rewarding too.
He was looking forward to seeing Miss Chevalier after the ballad he had performed in her honour at the Spirit Ball, for they had not had nearly enough time to talk – and the poor girl was always working. Barnaby had learned well enough to leave her alone, for the most part, when she was preoccupied – watching her brew potions or lurking the ward while patients writhed did not tend to be as helpful as he had imagined.
But it would be a dereliction of his duty not to walk her home, so when the skies began to lighten he had drifted into the hospital to find her.
“Mrs. Watts is screeching about seeing bad omens in her sleep,” Barnaby declared carelessly as he drifted into the staffroom from one of the wards, not bothering to specify that the bad omen the patient had witnessed was most likely him peering over her. It was someone else’s problem, anyway.
His gaze fell on Miss Chevalier instead. “Is it time to –?” He had not finished his sentence before realising she was smiling, and not at him. He eyed the other healer darkly, digesting the question she had just asked him and choosing to interject with an evaluation of his own. “He looks quite overwhelmed by it, does he not?”
His mouth opened in answer (Ask me at the end of the day, punctuated with a genial chuckle, of course) but was abruptly stayed by the appearance of a ghost in the room. Generally speaking, the hospital did not see a lot of ghosts; the place reminded many of them too much of their demise, but occasionally one would come to visit some relative or rival. Gideon, however, did not think he had ever seen one in the staff tearoom.
And so, the response that actually left him was simply, "I'm sorry, what?"
Tabi should have seen him coming. He materialized at the end of her shift more often than not, which was fine, she'd grown accustomed to the company on the walk home (and oddly enjoyed it?) but honestly, to waltz right into the tearoom!
The first comment was innocuous enough, something she was used to as a greeting, but for him to answer her question so boldly! "Barnaby!" She hissed, color flooding her cheeks in embarrassment. She would have thought in the three centuries he'd been ghosting the plane of the living, he would remember something of being civilized! "My apologies Mr. Browne, Mr. Wye seems to have forgotten his manners," Tabi apologized, looking between the two uncertainly, torn between flustered and sheepish, pending who she was looking at.
Gideon's mouth gaped open for a couple of seconds, not entirely sure what to make of the strange tableau before him. The ghost... who Miss Chevalier knew well enough to admonish, who thought it appropriate to critique Gideon himself? Gideon might have thought he was the one coming off of the night shift, not Miss Chevalier, and had fallen asleep in the tearoom, so bizarre did it seem.
"Is he—Mr. Wye," Gideon amended, for all that he was talking about the ghost right in front of him, "a... former patient?"
As soon as he said it, he realized it was a silly question; the dead fellow's translucent attire spoke to a life lived—and lost—centuries before. Still, the healer was inordinately curious as to the nature of their acquaintance (and rather irritated by it, though he could not articulate why).
"Oh no," Tabi interjected before Barnaby had the chance. If she had any hope of getting out of this gracefully, she was going to have to do the bulk of the talking. "He's a..." Local? Nuisance? Her new shadow? "A friend. He walks me home sometimes." Tabi wasn't sure if anything other than the truth would be necessary, it was all odd to begin with. Having a ghost for a chaperon, or even a friend sounded sort of strange, but she supposed Tabi attracted all sorts of strange. She had to wonder if it was her veela half that drew Mr. Wye in? Did that sort of thing impact ghosts? Regardless, they were acquainted and though she wasn't exactly embarrassed by that, she was by his behavior!
Forgotten his manners, had he? That stung, Barnaby wouldn’t deny it, but unlife had given him very little other than occasions to be petty, and this fellow, currently wearing the gaping mouth of a dead herring, presented a good opportunity for it. (There was a delicate balance to be had, between his desire to mock the man and his consciousness of possibly vexing Miss Chevalier beyond measure; but Barnaby also could not pretend he didn’t find her rosy-cheeked anger a little entrancing.)
“My deepest apologies,” he said gallantly, with a sweeping duck into a bow (and when he straightened up he drifted a few inches higher, so that this Mr. Browne could not look down on him).
He was satisfied but not overjoyed by friend – for the term was more affectionate than he might expect, but not as possessively devoted as he might have hoped.
Disappointment made him petty once more, so he eyed Browne and inquired with raised eyebrows: “Do thy patients oft end up like this?”
(If Browne dared ask, never fear – Barnaby would invent himself a splendidly tragic, heroic death.)
"They do not tend to meet Death while under my care, no," Gideon replied rather stiffly, casting a glance at Miss Chevalier for help. Indeed, it was perhaps his Hogwarts days when Gideon had last had cause to interact with the less solid denizens of the community, and never had he felt more like he was being challenged in some regard.
Surely—Merlin's beard, it hit him then: this Mr. Wye was interested in Miss Chevalier in the way that any red-blooded man of sense would be, except he had no blood and did not appear to be of much sense either.
"Nor would I expect as much of Miss Chevalier's patients, of course," he added quickly. "I was merely startled to see her keep such dea—delightful company."
This was going downhill quickly. Tabi busied herself with folding up her papers and finishing up the last sip of her tea. The only way she could think to save Mr. Browne at the moment was to be on her way and hope Barnaby followed. "Of course not." Tabitha added gently. She had of course, lost patients, but far fewer than she successfully helped.
The strained nature of the conversation was enough for her to hope Mr. Browne would not hold it against her. While Barnaby could be a bit... unconventional. She did somewhat enjoy his company. It made the walks to and from work much more amusing at the very least. Still he was being a bit abrasive and she should probably salvage the situation sooner rather than later. She would certainly have to go apologize to Mr. Browne next time she saw him.
"I should probably finish tidying the potions storeroom before my time is up." She announced. "Mr. Wye perhaps you should come with me. It will be quick." Tabi tucked her lists into her apron pocket. "It was lovely to see you Mr. Browne, please let me know if your ward needs any potions, I'll be brewing on my next shift." She hated to cut their conversation short, as she enjoyed Mr. Browne's company as well, but she was struggling with the odd tension between them.
Gideon felt a pang of jealousy as she suggested the ghost accompany her—though really, it was not as though he wanted the dead man's company. He wished he could rightly say no, to keep Miss Chevalier here longer, but she had presented a sensible reason to depart. Gideon would need an equally sensible reason for her to linger.
Ideally without the late Mr. Wye.
But nothing sprang to mind, at least, nothing that did not appear even to him to be woefully contrived.
And so, Gideon was left with an almost sad smile as he thanked her for her diligence. "You are indeed a credit to your profession, Miss Chevalier," he finished.
She was hoping not to give Barnaby much of a chance to argue and hurry along to save Mr. Browne from any more of the conversation. Mr. Browne's compliment had her looking at her hems and a blush rising to her cheeks. Part of her worried it was just the veela nature getting the best of the two of them, but Mr. Browne always seemed so genuine, even with everyone else, that she struggled to tell the difference.
"Thank you," She managed a she moved to step around him, laying a hand gently on his arm for the briefest of moments. "Come along Mr. Wye," They could discuss some ground rules on their way back upstairs; starting with the fact that he should probably remain outside to wait for her at the end of her shift. It was the safest option. They really didn't need him frightening anyone to death!
“I should love to be of assistance in the potions storeroom,” Barnaby declared smugly at that suggestion, utterly no help though he would be in tidying anything. But if there was some victory in it, it dwindled fast at the way Miss Chevalier touched Browne’s arm.
His eyes narrowed.
But he swanned over to her side promptly when she called, even if, as they left the room, his muttered words were a little louder than they ought to be. “How he gawks and fawns over you,” he commented, frowning. “I cannot fathom how you stand it.”
On her way out of the tearoom with Mr. Wye in tow, she sighed softly, shaking her head at the evaluation of the situation. Clearly he had no idea either, and though she hated to tell him, she supposed he ought to know. "It is not an entirely unfamiliar feeling," she passed him a look over her shoulder.
"You haven't figured it out yet?" She inquired, thinking that his advanced years on earth may have given him some insight, but perhaps not. Clearly veela charm was not even lost on ghosts. "I'm half-veela. Everybody, well, all men, do it." Tabi sighed more heavily this time. It was a miserable sort of curse. At least to her. She knew a lot of her kind, most of them in fact, reveled in the attention, but it mostly made her feel uncomfortable and unnatural.
![[Image: Tabi-MJSig.png]](https://i.ibb.co/PzkZ1DX/Tabi-MJSig.png)
