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.
Ivy smiled at him again, and took another large sip of her beer. "I'm an auror and I live alone, my parents are muggles," she said, "So my reputation's already - a bit dodgy. This won't hurt it." It was a little circular of her, to go back to it — but sometimes she felt like Jack deserved better explanations than whatever she was willing to offer.
He gave a well-you-have-a-point sort of tilt of his head. It sure sounded like a list of things some stiff-neck might hold against her. He didn't, of course.
Ivy shook her head. "Most people don't," she said, "I don't — advertise it." She looked at Jack, her eyebrows quirked — she usually didn't tell people because of purism. She didn't think Jack would be that way, as he was a halfblood, but sometimes people surprised her.
"I got it from my dad." He admitted with an amused shake of his head. "I thought his name was Jack and when I went to Hogwarts I just... made it my name too." He'd be the first to admit it was a funny thing to suddenly decide to do as a kid... if he ever talked about it.
"Sure, the professors the professors had me down as something different at first but I had 'em all convinced by the end of my first year." That part he was proud of and the grin that followed showed it.
Ivy couldn't help it; she laughed, holding her beer up and grinning at him. It took her nearly half a minute to get her laughs back under control. She raised the beer at him. "That's good," she said, genuinely cheerful — not a common emotion for her, but one that Dorset brought out more than most people. "Thank you, Dorset."
He raised his own beer in salute to hers. He'd never heard her laugh like that and before that night he might've thought it wasn't possible but soon enough he was laughing along with her.
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