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
October 26, 1892 — Hope and Samuel's Private Residence
Hope had begun her pains after she had retired to her rooms for the night. It was unfamiliar to her obviously since he had never had a child before. Her midwife had told her what to expect and she had been sent for immediately and her husband woken to be informed. Not that he was allowed to be in the room though Hope wished he had been. It was terrifying and she had never experienced such pain.
Her labour lasted throughout the night but in the early morning hours, just as the sun began to peek through the windows, the St.John-Black residence was filled with the angry wails of a newborn child. Hope's sweat was wiped away and she lay weakly on the bed as the midwife cleaned up the new born baby. A maid had been sent to fetch her husband.
Hope was given the child and she smiled down at the small face peeking out from the swaddle of blankets.
It had been a long few weeks, Hope was bearing it like a trooper. When they had called the midwife, and he had been chased into the hall so that the midwife could work. He had had no option but to pace the corridor in a fit of anxiety, with Roscoe to top up his drink and tell him to sit down every now and then. Not that he listened.
After what felt like an eternity - doing nothing but listening to Hope screaming from the other side of the door. Merlin, why was there nothing they could do for her pain. The door opened and the midwife appeared, her arms still covered in gore and a smile on her face. Indicating that he could enter the room.
There she was. Hope looked exhausted but beautiful. He was a father - he was a father. The thought made him feel lightheaded and when he looked at Hope he couldn't help but feel awed by her. She had given him a son, and she looked glowing. He wasn't sure he could imagine circumstances in which it might be possible for him to be happier.
'My darling, how are you feeling?' he asked, his voice low, almost in a whisper, as though speaking any louder would disturb the quiet of the room. 'How are you both' his voice was thick with emotion.
Hope smiled weakly up at her husband as he entered the room. He looked awed and happy which was satisfying to see.
"Very tired but I am well," Hope assured. All the pain of the last few hours felt forgotten. "Our son is doing well. There is nothing wrong with his lungs either."
He chuckled, his large hand coming to touch his son fondly on the forehead, his other hand brushing a lock of hair back from Hope's face. She had never looked more beautiful to him, still flushed, her hair unbound and loose, her most natural and the look of her now almost undid him. He cupped her face, and leaned his forehead to hers, not pushing for a kiss, but enjoying the wonderful intimacy of their duo becoming a trio.
'You look beautiful my darling,' he said, his cheeks beginning to ache a little from his rather foolish smile, it was probably rather unmanly.
Hope smiled as Samuel brushed a lock of her hair back. She wasn't exactly looking her best and she briefly worried about that. Instead Samuel was pressing his forehead to her own and Hope could not help but smile.
She was a tiny woman so childbirth had been a very strenuous experience. "Would you like to hold him?" She asked.
His mother had sent him a long list of instructions on how to treat his wife in the immediate aftermath of giving birth - 9 days in bed, no reading for the first 3, no visitors but him and the doctor for the first 5! It had all seemed rather intense. But who was he to argue.
Samuel gave a chuffing, slightly overwhelmed noise at the prospect of holding his son but he nodded goofily, lost for words and made an approximation of how she was holding her arms in preparation of receiving the precious little bundle. 'Hello Little Master' he half whispered to the tiny form of his son, as he was transferred into his arms, glancing between the tiny sleeping boy and the woman who had created him in awe.
'You are amazing' he said again, pressing an over-awed kiss onto his wifes forehead.
Hope shifted the baby into her husbands arms. She had as much practice holding a baby as he probably did but it had seemed to come instinctually. Plus the midwife had gently guided her arm positioning. "The midwife said to be sure to support the head and neck," Hope said as she took in the sight of her husband and her child.
Hope blushed and smiled as Samuel praised her. "I am so pleased that he is finally here. I do not think I have ever been this tired and yet awake at the same time."
He shifted for a moment, throwing off his jacket and rolling up the sleeves of his crisp white shirt preparing to take on the serious business of holding his first born child. Samuel allowed his wife to guide his arms and direct his movements so he could accept the precious bundle into his arms.
Her blush caused him to grin even more broadly - as beautiful as the first day he had met her, more so even.
'I'm honoured to meet you Master Oxalis?' he suggested, his tone as much of a question to his wife as a statement to his son. They had discussed names somewhat but until he was here there was been no firm decisions. 'Oxalis Roscoe?' His wife's love of plants and his step brothers name as his middle name.
Hope could not help but beam tiredly. Her two dashing gentlemen! What a picture they made.
"Perfect, it suits him well," Hope said in agreement. "Did I worry you much?" One of her maids had whispered into her ear about her husbands pacing. That maid of hers in particular was a romantic and seemed delighted with the fact that her masters had married for love.
'I always worry about you' he said seriously, but a smile pulled at his lips. That was true enough, and stroked a lock of her long blonde hair from her face.
'I will let you rest.' he kissed her forhead again, and gestured to confirm if she wanted her son back, or if he should pass the boy to his new nanny - a woman who had been subjected to more reference checks and assessments of her skill than the nursemaid of the Prince of Wales, as though the St.John-Black infant was the first human child! He knew she would want to be an active and involved mother, but that did not mean that he wasn't worried about her over exerting herself.
Hope smiled gently as Samuel spoke of always worrying about her. The same could be said for her but she supposed she had more reason. After all, he had a job he went to.
Hope extended her arms to bring the baby back into her arms. She did not quite feel comfortable parting from her child for any longer than was needed. "You should get some rest as well," she said once she was resettled.
'I will' he said gently, pressing another kiss to her forehead. 'Do you mind if I sleep in the dressing room?' he asked, his voice low. His own rooms lay beyond and the day bed in the dressing room saw little use as a bed, but he didn't think he could bare to be out of her rooms - and there was no way he could share her bed, but the daybed felt like a reasonable compromise.
"Of course not," Hope said with a smile. She knew it wasn't typical of their social class but she had a fondness for slumbering alongside her husband. There was a sort of comfort in falling asleep to the timbre of his breathing. The baby had since fallen into slumber and so the nanny moved her into the bassinette. "Good night, Samuel," she said, despite the fact it had to now be about noon. The couple had been quite busy that night so a little confusion was to be expected from the both of them.
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