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.
31 December, 1891 — Hogsmeade NYE Festivities, Padmore Park
Elegy in Joy, Muriel Rukeyser
The only reason Ford was here and not at a fancy party tonight was because going to a party increased the chances that he'd have to interact with either Macnair or his wife. Of course Verity wanted to be somewhere fancy, because even with a marriage in two weeks she still wanted to see and be seen in society, but Noble had graciously agreed to chaperone tonight so that Ford didn't have to. An outdoor festival that was open to anyone who wanted to wander by seemed like the last place someone in the Lestrange/Macnair extended family would be found tonight, so that was where Ford had decided to be. His second decision of the night had been to get a little too drunk, and while he hadn't accomplished that one yet he was off to a good start. It wasn't often that he did this, but this was the last night of the year and after everything that had happened this year — even after everything that had happened this month — he felt he deserved it.
A sort-of-friend from another department in the Ministry had goaded him into going ice-skating, so Ford was off on a quest for skates when he ran into Tycho. This seemed like the ideal distraction from his current quest; he wasn't sure ice-skating was really the best idea after two and a half drinks, anyway. Hopefully the acquaintance who'd wanted him to join in wouldn't be too disappointed (probably he'd already forgotten; he'd had more to drink than Ford had and Ford wasn't the only person he was trying to cajole into joining).
"Happy new year," he said brightly. "I didn't expect you here. Thought you'd be invited to some of the fancier parties tonight."
Tycho had been invited to a great, many things but had chosen to go to the Hogsmeade celebrations instead. He always greatly enjoyed them in the past.
He also wanted to ice skate and he liked bonfires. There was also the perk of being able to get drunk without all of societys eyes on you (not that this fact ever had much effect on stopping him from doing whatever notion entered his head to do). And so here he was.
And it turned out to be a good life choice too as one of his favorite people appeared. "Happy New Year to you, too," Tycho said just as brightly. "I was invited to such things but people tend to judge people in mourning that go to all the society bashes." His expression probably made it obvious that the possible gossip backlash had not at all been the reason for his life choices. He simply liked the sound of this particular celebration better.
Can we dance like we're all alone
Stop the time and make it still
Hold you like I always will
"Oh, right. I keep forgetting you're in mourning." It took Ford a second to realize he'd said that out loud, instead of only thinking it. Had he been slightly more sober, he probably would have kept it to himself. He didn't like to bring up mourning. It was generally impolite to talk about it, and though he didn't think Tycho would care about decorum it was still usually a sore subject. Ford didn't want anyone feeling bad because of something he'd said, and he particularly didn't want to open up a conversation about dead father with someone he might be inclined to empathize with. It was easy to forget that Tycho was in mourning, though, because he was Tycho; even in the immediate aftermath of the death he had still seemed indomitable in Ford's eyes.
"Just because you're you," he added, not sure if this was helping at all or just putting his foot more firmly in his mouth.
"And what is that supposed to mean?" Snapped out of Tycho before he could stop it. The tone of voice was as foreign to him as it probably would be for Ford to hear it coming from him. He didn't like it and he was immediately sorry for it but he still felt rather hurt. Did his friend think he had cared nothing for his own father as his mother felt inclined to imply every time he was near her lately? All he had been trying to do was cheer her a little. Plus she was mad at him for having had a vision about it despite the fact it had been useless anyway.
But how was Ford to know he was feeling anything besides what he visibly showed? Or that he had shit going on that he didn't really tell anyone? That was his own fault, not Fords. "I'm sorry for snapping, that was unfair to you when you are one of the best friends a person could ask for. But I do have feelings, you know. A lot of them. I just don't like showing them because that tends to make people feel uncomfortable." More like he didn't like being vulnerable but he figured that was the same thing. "Have you ever had hot cocoa with a bit of hot brandy mixed in?"
Can we dance like we're all alone
Stop the time and make it still
Hold you like I always will
The tone and immediacy of Tycho's reply shocked him, more than the words themselves. Ford really hadn't meant anything by the comment, though of course he could see how it sounded and how Tycho had taken it. Still, Ford's eyebrows shot up with hurt. He took half a step backwards, wondering how he should respond — and whether it might be best to just say something by way of apology and then leave immediately after. Before he could think of anything Tycho was talking again, and Ford was struggling to keep pace. For some reason Tycho had beaten him to an apology, and now he was trying to change the subject.
Tycho had said Ford was one of the best friends a person could ask for, but after his last comment and Tycho's reaction to it, Ford certainly didn't feel that was true. Particularly not if Tycho felt as though he needed to specify that he was a human being who had feelings. Whether he'd put his foot in his mouth or not, did Tycho really think that Ford believed that? Because it he did, it probably meant Ford had been a very bad friend for a very long time. Ford looked at Tycho with wide-eyes, still feeling shell-shocked from the initial snap. "I — I know you have feelings," he stammered. There was no way he could move from that to talking about cocoa.
Ugh. Tycho had never wanted to be the cause of the look now on Fords face. He wished he had access to a time-turner so that he could turn back the last couple of minutes. But he didn't because the Ministry didn't trust him with that level of magic nor did he think turning back time was really as good as it might seem. Weaving complex magic when it would only effect him was one thing. Quite another if it might cause a ripple effect among a whole bunch of people.
"I know you do. I'm just going through a lot and ended up taking it out on you without meaning to. How are you supposed to know things and feelings I have if I don't show or tell you about them?" He asked, reaching out to lightly touch the other mans arm. Had they been somewhere a little more secluded, he would have just hugged him.
Not that he typically cared about society but he knew Ford had to mind such things.
Can we dance like we're all alone
Stop the time and make it still
Hold you like I always will
Tycho was trying to comfort him. On the one hand, Ford desperately wanted to be comforted. On the other, he was aware that it really ought not to be Tycho's job to make him feel better, at least not in the wake of Ford having just injured him with his words. The notion that he'd needlessly and foolishly hurt Tycho and then turned around and expected to be comforted for it made him feel utterly useless.
"I should know because we're friends," Ford insisted. Had he really been such a bad friend to Tycho over the past few months that Tycho felt there was a whole wealth of things going on that Ford knew nothing about? Ford didn't doubt that he was right, but it made him feel rather miserable. "I should pay attention to things."
"I know," Tycho said a little helplessly. He also felt a little panicked. Why didn't he ever share his bad things with Ford? Among all his friends, he was able to pinpoint that there was something very different in how he interacted with Ford. "I guess I just want you to see me as strong all the time. Besides, you have had some intense things of your own - your sister, for example."
Can we dance like we're all alone
Stop the time and make it still
Hold you like I always will
Ford felt as though he wanted to crumble. Everything was making it worse, from the look on Tycho's face to what he was saying to the touch on Ford's arm. "That's no excuse," he said, shaking his head. "There's always something going on. I should've still been a good friend. If you're only a friend when it's easy, what's the point?"
"I think this conversation is one we should have in private," Tycho said gently. "Your presence has helped more than you know. Your existence is a delight and I refuse to let you think otherwise."
Can we dance like we're all alone
Stop the time and make it still
Hold you like I always will
This was the second time in the past thirty days that one of Ford's closest friends had interrupted him to suggest they continue the conversation in private. Ford felt panicky all of the sudden. The last time this had happened, it hadn't gone well.
Ford hardly heard the rest of what Tycho said, fixated as he was on the suggestion that they speak in private. Maybe Tycho wanted to tell him the same thing Cash had — that he needed to be careful what he said in public. This wasn't fair. He'd only been talking about being friends with Tycho, so how could anyone take that the wrong way? Besides, he was careful all the time. This was one night he was relieved from the duties of being a chaperone and from being an older brother. Noble had the girls. Ford didn't want to be careful of his feelings tonight. He'd just broken things off with Macnair, his sister was getting married in a week — he had a lot of feelings and he was tired of being careful not to talk about them.
"I think I'll get a drink," Ford said thickly, then pulled his arm free from Tycho's as he turned to leave.
"What?" Tycho asked, momentarily confused when all Ford said was that he was going to get a drink. "Did I offend you in some way? I meant nothing by it, I just don't personally like talking about my deepest vulnerabilities in public." He wasn't sure why, really. He was famed for both being a Seer and generally not giving a fuck about society's opinion. But something about others besides those he chose knowing that he was rather hurt by his mothers behavior lately (especially when they had been so close) and other such things going on with him made him itch.
Can we dance like we're all alone
Stop the time and make it still
Hold you like I always will
"I'm not offended," Ford said immediately, and although offended may not have been the exact right word choice it was clear from his tone that he was something. Ford recognized that he was upset, but he wasn't really sure if he was upset at Tycho. He hadn't been upset at Cash for prompting them to a more private location, when it had happened before. It was more the whole situation — always having to watch what he said and having so much bottled up inside that he wasn't allowed to ever talk about, even with his closest friends. Tycho might say he preferred not to have his 'deepest vulnerabilities' out in public but in Ford's opinion that was the whole point of having friends. Who was he supposed to talk to about things like this, if not people like Cash or Tycho?
But maybe the depth of their friendship was a little one-sided. Tycho didn't tell him things, apparently, and Ford wasn't clued in enough to notice them. Cash had shared a lot with Ford that felt very personal, but had that really been by choice, or because Ford was the only person Lestrange knew who might know how to handle a dementor?
"I just need a drink," he bit off, still walking. He wanted to be drunk, really, but maybe that wasn't allowed, either, with all the things he wasn't supposed to talk about in public.
From his tone, Tycho could tell that if Ford was not offended then he was at least upset. He didn't know what had happened in Ford's life for the other man to suddenly make all this about himself but Tycho didn't really have the patience at the moment to try and navigate it to figure it out.
"Know what? Fine. I just wanted to talk to you about my shit somewhere a little more comfortable for myself, where I could really open up to you without everyone and their mother possibly being able to eavesdrop. But oh no. It makes Ford Greengrass upset for some reason so why don't I shut up and bother someone else with it?" He turned to stalk off towards the bonfire for more brandy spiked hot chocolate.
Can we dance like we're all alone
Stop the time and make it still
Hold you like I always will
The way that Tycho exploded caught Ford off guard. He hadn't expected him to be so volatile, and it didn't fit with the narrative Ford had constructed in his head over the past few seconds of a one-sided friendship. Dodonus shouldn't have cared if Ford was disengaging from the conversation to get a drink. Beyond that, the words made Ford uncomfortable and a little guilty. His ears burned red and his shoulders tensed. He had been quick to assume that when Tycho suggested they talk somewhere in private, it was something to do with Ford. Tycho was suggesting that wasn't the case at all, but even so Ford couldn't just let go of the feeling in his chest. He didn't even know what to call that feeling that was any more specific than upset. He just had the same two thoughts rattling around in the back of his brain while he tried to process what Tycho had said: it's not fair it's not fair it's not fair and I don't want to I don't want to leave me alone.
"I'm allowed to get a drink!" he yelled at Tycho's retreating back. He'd shouted that because he wanted to shout something, but of course he knew the drink wasn't the point. Ford deflated slightly; his shoulders sagged and he let out a breath. It makes Ford Greengrass upset for some reason. He realized the last thirty seconds mirrored the beginning of their conversation. He'd started by saying something that struck a nerve for Tycho, because Tycho had never told him about it, and in the process of Ford trying to apologize Tycho had struck a nerve that Ford had never explained to him.
Tycho had already turned to leave. Ford couldn't afford to lose a friend right now. He was already feeling so desperately lonely, and it had been less than a week since he'd called things off with Macnair. Ford shifted his weight from foot to foot, watching Tycho's back and debating what to do next. Then he surged forward to follow. "Tycho, wait—"
Tycho rolled his eyes despite Ford not being able to see it as Ford yelled behind him. Yes, he was and so was he. He was glad that he had found a cozy, unoccupied space beside the bonfire because some people were definitely staring. Thankfully most seemed to just chalk it up to "young man festive behavior" or something because they went back to the festive activities.
He had just reached where had he left his flask when Ford called out to him. He was not pouting as he turned (except he very much was) to face his friend once more, his flask in hand.
Can we dance like we're all alone
Stop the time and make it still
Hold you like I always will
