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 wasn't sure who to write to about this. Calla, Alice, and Maddy already know because they were there, and I can't just write to Ned and Sloane.
(Please don't tell either of them what I'm telling you. Ned will be insufferable with his practicality and Sloane will either yell at me or get all worked up—I haven't decided which. Everyone has already been sworn to secrecy.)
One of the damn pesky Moroccan beaters hit me during the educational scrimmage today, an the hit was solid enough to crack a rib. You know me. I wouldn't worry too much about a broken rib on a normal day, but this one's gone and punctured my lung, and it's not at all how I planned to spend my evening. The mediwizards wrapped up my middle and I'm stuck in bed.
On the bright side, I broke my nose, and I know that doesn't seem like much of a bright side, but Alice was able to straighten it after the mediwizards left it looking all crooked after they'd healed it. So at least I'm not terribly hideous.
Thank you for your confidence in me, I swear I shall tell no one of this. It is, after all your story to tell, not mine.
Your injuries sound very horrible, I wish there was something I could do. I hope that I can take the sign of you writing me that the healers have said the puncture shall heal? If not I shall be most upset for you.
Perhaps the best thing I can do is to write to distract you. If you feel well enough that is. How was the match until you were injured? I was terribly sorry I was not able to attend. You must tell me all about it. How were the coaches?
Sisse,
I fear that everyone will learn eventually, as my sister has not yet learned to control her tongue and will be accompanying Maddy and I to school this year. Nevertheless, I am glad I can trust you.
My injuries are not life-threatening, if that’s what you mean to ask. I have been told to avoid physical activity for the next month (although with quidditch practice beginning next month, it is my more likely my resting time will be limited to twenty days). My chest hurts, but that’s normal. It’s not nearly as bad as it was when I was in the hospital wing back in April.
The match was well up until my injuries. Miss Bonaccord and I work surprisingly well together, and together we nearly scored enough to make a snitch catch inconsequential for the other team. I’m sure I’ll hear enough about it form Maddy and Calla in the coming days; they were our opponents. The coaching was nonexistent if I’m honest. It was a very “pick up your broom and go” sort of game—very little practice beforehand. My only regret is being unable to finish.
How have you been since the lake incident? I hope your parents did not punish you the way Sloane’s did.
With an injury such as that you should listen to the healers! Surely you needn’t return to quidditch practice so soon. Everyone will understand.
I am glad to hear your team did well. Was your team able to secure a win?
With a foreign team of such renown I am surprised at the lack of coaching. To hear Matthew speak you would think they surpassed even our own team - not that Matthew will own such a statement.
I have been well, although my mother was less than enthusiastic about the venture. While I have not been punished nor have I been allowed to make any social visits. I think she may allow me to attend the World Cup match though, but she has not agreed fully yet.
I wish I could promise that I'll rest until the healers give their clearance, but that would be lying and I could never lie to you, Sisse.
We didn't win, but we very well should have. I think the Moroccan seeker was going easy on Abney, which is a bummer considering how hard Bonaccord and I were trying to win for the team. The Moroccan chaser on our team was going way too easy. He didn't even try! The coaching was aimed more towards the Moroccans with the whole "don't kill students" speech, though part of it was in Moroccan (what do they speak over there?) so I couldn't understand it.
You must convince her to go let you come to the Cup. Mr. Bell and the Bixbys are splitting the cost of a box so we can all be there together.
I can’t say that I approve, but I do very much appreciate your honesty.
It sounds like it was a very exciting match if the scores were so close. I am sorry about the Moraccans though, but I can’t say I’m not grateful they were told not to kill students. With your injuries though I wonder how much of that was caution or restraint?
I believe they speak Arabic, although I would hardly understand that myself. Mother says my French should be much better than it is, I doubt I would be any better trying to learn Arabic and doubtful I would find much use for it.
Father bought seats for Matthew and Henry so I think Mother will relent. It is afterall a social event of the season, if rather unladylike in opinion. I shall do my best to press my advantage.
Have you begun to work on your History of Magic homework yet? I finished my essay yesterday but still remain unhappy with it.
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