Welcome to Charming
Welcome to Charming, the year is now 1892. It’s time to join us and immerse yourself in scandal and drama interlaced with magic both light and dark.

Where will you fall?

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“Got the morbs” was Victorian slang for a temporary melancholia — Dante
Maybe a choice shade of grey - the closest thing she had to mourning clothes - as a symbolic marker that her relationship with Victor was dead.
dining is pageantry

Smoke, Net, Dragon, ???
September 12th, 1892 — Afternoon - Small room towards the top of North Tower

He needed an excuse to open a window as he wanted a dragon - and if it didn’t work out the parts would be acceptable too.  An excuse that had dawned on him last night in the form of practicing potions brewing and smoking out a room.  After all, he’d looked out the window at the dragons and they weren’t scarier than a potions accident.

With that plan in his head he went to a small room in the North Tower that had a good sized window with his cauldron and school bag - net, and surgical kit inside.  He took out the jar of water he had and dumped it into the cauldron with a few other cheap ingredients before putting it all on a travel burner.  As the objective was smoke which came quickly.  Which was followed by him grabbing his net out of his bag and opening the window hoping to catch one.

Maybe the smoke would be welcoming to a baby dragon. 

About a five minutes later he saw a few dragons fly to the window and one landed on the windowsill.  He jumped up as he attempted to catch the dragon in his net with a happy " Gotcha " cheer of glee.

What he didn't hear was the door opening as soon as he cheered.

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It wasn't that Odessa wasn't used to living in a large home, it was that everything in that castle seemed set to get her lost! She'd figured that the way to Slytherin's common room was downstairs and to follow the smell of mold. She was actually jealous of the descriptions her new friends from other Houses had of their common room. The Ravenclaw common room in particular, sounded as so much better than the one she'd have to live in for the next seven years. She privately wondered how no Slytherin had ever thought of renovating their common room. Why hadn't they claimed a spot up in a tower? It wasn't very ambitious of them, living in the dungeons as though they were criminals! If she'd known about that ghastly common room, she might have asked the Hat to put her into Ravenclaw which, by all reports, was closer to her aesthetic.

At least no baby dragon would want to go near her ugly common room.

Odessa really didn't want any business with dragons but as the law of Murphy went, she ended up being chased by one. She really felt pathetic, being chased by a baby dragon and with a limited knowledge of spells to repel it. Running really was her best way of making it unscathed.

She opened a door to what she assumed to be an empty classroom to hide but much to her horror, she entered the room Quincy Smellie had been occupying just as a baby dragon flew inside. Her anxiety misinterpreted his cheering for screams of terror and she joined in, with actual screams of terror.

He wasn’t expecting the dragon to be so loud when caught as he heard a scream from it.  The dragon was spitting fire into his net making it burn in the front, but luckily it was caught on the wings inside it.  Though Quincy Smellie wasn’t someone to be distracted by screams or fire being spit in his direction.

Though he did regret wearing what was a rather nice, but plain outfit - though this early in term his trunk only had nice clean undamaged outfits.

With a quick scramble Quincy grabbed the dragon’s body and pulled it under his right arm making it so the fire breathing neck was pointing away from him.  Then for safety’s sake he grabbed it’s neck with his left hand so he could aim the fire at the window. 

Once he had wrangled it under control he looked for something better to control it with and saw Odessa.  Now the screams made sense.  He said “ Close the window, I have it under control. “

He didn’t but if the window was closed it would only be one dragon and he’d figure out a way to control it.

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It soon became apparent that the boy wasn't as terrified as her and that, if anything, he had the dragon under control. Or at least that was what he was attempting to do. She felt somewhat embarrassed, screaming at the door, while the boy got the dragon under control. He looked to be around her age too, which made it even more impressive for him and embarrassing for her.

"Uh-um, alright," Odessa replied, though the last thing she wanted to do was go near the dragon's entrance. She tightened her grip around her wand, not that she'd used it all the time she'd been running away from the other dragon. The spells she'd been taught so far all seemed useless in dealing with a dragon.

And as such, when a second dragon landed on the windowsill, Odessa used her want to smack the dragon with it. An instinctive response, which had bright yellow sparks flying out of the tip at the impact and the dragon cry out and spit fire at her. Screaming, she took a step back and looked at the boy: "Help me!"

This would really be a time when it'd be useful for her to know more spells than Wingardium Leviosa.

He adjusted himself with the dragon in his arms to get it so the dragons claws weren’t clawing into him.  Though he could feel at least one scrape he hoped wasn’t deep enough for stitches forming on the side.  Part of him wished he could check it but he had a dragon to wrangle and he wasn’t letting go as he maneuvered it so his arm was holding the dragon against his body and that same hand could control the neck.

Thank goodness these were babies.  As he just removed dragon tamer from his list of fallback options if surgeon/healer didn’t work out.

Then he got the net and wrapped it more around the dragons hind legs noticing the sticky feel of blood from the place it scraped him on the side. 

”Help me!”

He didn’t say it out loud but all he could think was bloody hell.

Moving towards the window he didn’t have many options, but he did have an occasionally fire spewing dragon in his hands.  So he moved towards the window pointing his dragon at the other dragon and gave it a squeeze making it breathe fire towards the dragon on the windowsill. 

Then treating the windowsill dragon like a pigeon in the park he just said “Shoo”

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Shiny set by MJ
The boy found a creative way of fighting off the second dragon. For a moment, Odessa felt inadequate next to him, with her limited knowledge of spells and her lack of creative solutions.

The only thing going for her was that she had her bag with her. So, she set it down on her feet and took out an ink bottle and then hurled it at the dragon standing at the windowsill. "Shoo!" It hit the edge of the window frame and splashed dark blue ink on the dragon. "Take that!" she said, pleased with her semi-competent shoot.

He was rather unsure when he saw her throw the ink bottle.  However, he squeezed his dragon again in response to the windowsill dragon letting out a puff of smoke.  A squeeze that resulted in fire going towards the windowsill dragon.

Then he heard a loud not quite chirp noise from the other dragon as his smaller dragon baby burst of fire got larger on the scales of the windowsill dragon.  Odessa was bloody brilliant.  The ink was flammable and stuck on the dragon as it tried to go backwards.

Looking first at the dragon which had fallen inside the window to the ground and then towards Odessa with a large smile on his face he said “ Butter upon bacon that was fantastic. “  All he knew was the dragon was on the ground and definitely injured which meant he had time to get control of the situation.

Quickly he moved to close the window by pushing it closed with his back as he looked at his backpack remembering he had a plan.

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Shiny set by MJ
Odessa didn't really know the ink was flammable, the ink bottles were just one of the most easily expendable items in her bag. Granted, all of the items were easily expendable - she could throw her entire trunk on a dragon and her father would have the items replaced immediately. He'd give her a talking to, or maybe he wouldn't even notice, if this was a busy season for the Puddlemere United.

She beamed at the boy and offered a shy: "Thanks." Then she turned her attention back to the dragon they'd hit. Now that it was somewhat injured and fallen to the ground, she took pity on it.

"Can we help it?" she asked the boy, turning her attention back to him. He looked to be the same age as her but she didn't recognize him as one of her yearmates. He was likely a year or two older then, so he'd likely know some spell to fix the situation.

His eyes were on his bag as he debated his next steps in a quick instant.  His first priority was controlling the dragon under his arm before it gave him a bigger gash.  He’d certainly be taking care of the dragon’s nails if he were to keep it - and now he had it in his arms it was a name away from becoming a pet.

Moving towards his bag he heard Odessa ask if they could help the dragon.  With one hand reaching in his bag for a piece of cut string that he pulled out and tied around his dragon’s snout he said “ Of course. “  Naturally he had no idea how to help it, but as he looked down his dragon was making upset head motions to either side and smoking out the nostrils.


Then he grabbed out another string and said “ Tie this around it’s snout, avoid the nostrils “ as he tossed it towards Odessa.  Then he looked down at his dragon and debated how to keep it safe, yet controlled.  The best thing he had was what remained of the net which he put his dragon on the ground and wrapped the net around the dragon with a few ties hoping it would be stuck for a bit. 

He then said “ What do you think of the name Winston for this one? “

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Odessa regretted asking when the boy tossed her some string and told her to tie the dragon's snout with it. She didn't want to get anywhere near the dragon, yet she didn't want to appear even weaker than she felt. So, motivated by her desire not to appear weak, she hesitantly approached the dragon. She held the string in her two hands, ready to wrap it around the dragon's snout before it bit her or breathed fire her way.

She did actually manage to do so, though tying the string proved to be a different matter. The boy asked her a question and, even though she was struggling to tie the string, she turned her attention to him.

He was asking her what to name the dragon? Did that mean...

"Are you going to keep it?" she asked, her eyes widening. So far, she'd assumed that the boy had been attacked by the dragon, just as she had. She didn't imagine that he might have wanted to catch one.

Not wanting to appear un-cool, she hastily added. "Um - Winston is a fine name. What if it is a girl dragon, though? Ah!" Her own dragon had bit her.

As much as he wanted to say he hadn’t decided he if he were going to keep it.  He was definitely going to try to keep it.  He said “ I plan to try.  Maybe I’ll be able to get into care of magical creatures a year early if I prove I can take care of a dragon. “  Though as exciting as the class sounded and how much he wanted in it - he realized it would just make him have more work.

Thankfully he’d been distracted with the realization that he hadn’t even considered Winston being a girl.  Though eggs would be wicked.

Grabbing from his bag a small towel and some antiseptic solution, to be referred to as a cleaning potion, and moved towards where Odessa was.

Quickly he replied “ Then I’ll call it Winnie “ as he reached Odessa and the dragon she had.  It definitely was burnt and those scales didn’t protect it as much as he thought it would.  Putting some of the antiseptic solution on the towel he said “ I should probably hold it in my lap as I clean it as we need to see how injured it is. “

Then he looked towards Odessa to see if she was ok with that plan before grabbing the dragon from her.

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Odessa doubted that the school faculty shared the boy's logic when it came to qualifying for a class. Adopting a stray dragon was more likely to get him in trouble, than awarded with an early spot in Care of Magical Creatures. In any case, she kept that opinion to herself, not wanting to rub him the wrong way. She only hoped that he wouldn't suggest she keeps the other dragon, because people pleasing as she was, she'd be unable to say no. She wouldn't keep the dragon for real, though, she'd simply ask her Papa if they could keep it around the country home (it could keep Hannah company) and for him to speak with Headmaster Black so she doesn't get into trouble. After all, the Blacks were family friends.

At first, she thought the antiseptic solution was for her bite and she tried not to hide her disappointment at his attention on the dragon.

"Alright," she replied and watched him take hold of the injured dragon, which made distressed noises, likely because of its injuries. "Are you a MacFusty?" She asked, because the way he handled the dragons was rather impressive. Generally, she had a good knowledge of society but the Pettigrews didn't really run in the same circles as the MacFustys, unless her father decided one day to launch a dragon-riding type of Quidditch.

When he grabbed the injured ink covered dragon from her he debated quickly how to sit.  He made the quick decision to adjust  himself so he was sitting crosslegged on the floor with the dragon between his legs - and his shoes tucked under his thighs.  After all, as much as he wanted to help the dragon and potentially make a new friend there was only so much he was willing to sacrifice of his clothes. 

The shirt was ripped by Winston, and the pants were surely to be stained from the ink - he was determined to save his shoes. 

He started on cleaning the dragon holding noticing the ink was definitely mixed with something else.  He wasn’t sure if it was blood or melted scale.  Not that he could really consider it as he had to remember the significance of a MacFusty.  Remember hearing the name in relation to someone in the ministry who dealt with dragons he said “ No, but I’m pretty good with animals. "  Then he continued “ Quincy Smellie “ with the pronunciation more Scottish sounding more like Smiley than like something that was smelly. 

Then he looked at Odessa and took in the fact she was slightly better dressed than he was.    Though he said nothing about that instead saying “ If you were scratched you should put some of the cleaning potion on any scratches you have.  A sting now is better than an infection later “  As he didn’t notice she was bit, but he figured there was no way she got out completely unscratched.

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Smellie wasn't a surname Odessa was familiar with, so this ruled out him being from one of the old money pureblooded families. This was so new for Odessa, interacting with people outside of her usual peers and her social class. She remembered her father's advice in his letter, for her to associate only with the well-bred kids.

Well, so far, apart from him planning on keeping an inappropriate pet, Quincey Smellie was very polite, clever and well-mannered. She decided that he was an alright choice of a friend, though him being a boy meant that they couldn't be too friendly. Odessa had it ingrained in her mind, that boys were all potential husbands and so they couldn't be proper friends.

"Thank you," she said, accepting his antiseptic potion. "And it is a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Smellie. I am Miss Odessa Pettigrew."

She took out a fancy handkerchief with her initials embroidered on it and dropped some of the potion on it. Then, she began to dab on her bit finger. Her nostrils scrunched at the smell - she'd always had a difficult relationship with strong smells - and her heart started beating somewhat heavier in her chest, but she tried to ignore it.

"You seem to know a lot of about healing," she commented. "Is your Papa a healer, then?" She thought healers to be noble professionals and held potioneers who'd discovered healing potions in high esteem.

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