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
One of the real healers had given Lester a task for the weekend: spend some time in the apothecary, until he was better at discerning ingredient quality. Lester had a N.E.W.T. in Herbology and in Potions, and had thought that he was good enough at knowing which ingredients to use, but he was learning rather quickly that nothing he'd thought was good enough was actually good enough.
It gave him a reason to get out of the house. Lester was not leaving the house very much lately, because Sloane was dead and because he did not understand what he was supposed to do with himself in her permanent absence. So he resented going to the apothecary, and resented the ingredients he was looking at, and resented the healer who had given him the apparent assignment.
He'd been staring at the belladonna for several minutes before he noticed that Alice was here too. "Alice," Lester said, "Hello." He hadn't seen her since the dragons, and he was happy to see her but did not know what to say — he had not known what to say to anyone in months.
Alice would be loathe to admit it to anyone, but she was beginning to realize she had nowhere she felt safe anymore. School used to be her safe haven, her place to focus solely on her education and not the greater terrors of the world. Then, when she left school, Hogsmeade had become such a place for her - a place full of happy memories and beloved friends. The town itself might've continued to serve for such a haven were it not for the miseries of this past summer. Sloane's death had tainted everything, her friends' homes, shops, even the lake and the forest. Alice would've chosen to avoid the town altogether were it not for Calla's insistence to see her on Hogsmeade weekends. And now, she no longer had London either. Not when the destruction could still be seen on buildings and she still awoke screaming with terrible nightmares.
Nowhere was safe.
Still, she had to press on and continue living. Calla would notice if Alice began avoiding town again and it wasn't as though she could simply stop working at the hospital. Secure or not - Alice didn't have a choice, which was how she found herself in Hogsmeade after the end of her shift. The apothecary in London hadn't yet reopened - its damages insurmountable in the face of such destruction. There was one in Diagon Alley, she supposed, but Alice tried to avoid the Alley whenever possible.
"Hello Lester," she greeted, her surprise at seeing a friend evident in the small jump she gave at the greeting. "How are you? Is your training going well?" He didn't look well, she noted. Previously, she would have mentioned it to Sloane or Edison or Cameron, seeing as she and Lester weren't the closest of the bunch, but now...now there was no one else left outside of school she could ask. "Are you alright?"
"It's going," Lester said, more darkly than he had intended to. But — what was he supposed to say? It was a Friday night, and he was out on an assignment for a healer who did not particularly seem to like him. (Although Lester was not sure whether or not the healers were supposed to like the trainees at all.)
"But I'm alright, it's a — I have a task," he elaborated. She seemed concerned, if she was asking, and Lester knew he probably didn't look great — he probably looked overdrawn, as he had been for months. "Are you alright?" he asked, as if to get some of the pressure off of himself.
None of what Lester said had sounded promising. It's going was as far from good as one got without being obviously distraught, and she was about to press further when he turned the question around on her.
Obviously, Alice wasn't fine. She had gone through a horribly traumatic summer - and that was without touching upon the dragons. But, Lester didn't know as much. Neither did anyone beyond Calla and (maybe Edison.) "Yeah, I'm alright. What's the task?" Alice answered, determined as ever to keep the conversation from touching upon anything involving her wellbeing.
Lester didn't believe her, but he was also sure that she did not believe him, so there was nothing to do there.
"I need to evaluate belladonna quality," he admitted to her, in a bit of an undertone. He didn't want anyone else to know that he had an extra work task. It was making him feel a smidge incompetent. "My school-grade belladonna isn't as good as it needs to be."
Or so the healer had said; Lester obviously wasn't understanding.
Her brows furrowed in contemplation. There were, of course, varying degrees of quality for all ingredients, but belladonna was fairly consistent most of the time. For him to need a hugher grade belladonna was bizarre, or at least it was to the girl with two years less schooling and even less high level work experience.
She scanned the shelves before pulling a jar down that appeared to have some fresh belladonna in it. "This looks decent I suppose?" Alice said, handing him the jar. "It was collected recently anyway."
Lester took the jar. "Thank you," he said. He looked down at the jar and then back at Alice. "How can you tell it's fresh?" he asked. She may not be a full healer, but she'd been a mediwitch for a while now — he trusted her expertise.
She reached for another jar off the shelf, one that appeared to contain lesser quality belladonna. "The color of the leaf is different. It's darker, and the edges of the leaves have begun to harden." She then explained with a small shrug. "There isn't that much of a difference between the two usage wise. I'm surprised that this would be your assignment."
Lester nodded at her; he would have to write this down later so that he could tell the healer later. As to her question — he shrugged. "I don't think the healer who asked for it likes me very much," Lester offered.
She quirked her head at him. Lester was liked well enough at school, though Alice had missed his last year there and couldn't speak to whether or not his demeanor had changed as a seventh year. This summer had changed him, had changed them all. Still, she couldn't see where it would have changed him so much that his instructors would dislike him enough to task him with senseless assignments. "That can't be true." She insisted.
Alice bit the inside of her lip. It still made no sense to her that Lester would be struggling in his internship. He'd grown despondent since the summer — that much was clear as day — but even that wasn't an excuse enough to cause immediate dislike.
"Right," she nodded. "Well, I'm not sure how much help I'd be but if you need it I'll make myself available to you."
He was relieved that she'd stopped prying; Lester managed a small smile at her. "Thanks, Alice," he said, "I really appreciate it." She may be a mediwitch — but he was sure she knew more than he did, especially this early in his training.
"Anytime, Lester." She looked back towards her basket and thought through the rest of her errands. "I should probably keep moving, Mum needed me to help with dinner tonight."
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