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.
Complete a thread started and set every month for twelve consecutive months. Each thread must have at least ten posts, and at least three must be your own.
Did You Know?
Did you know? Jewelry of jet was the haute jewelry of the Victorian era. — Fallin
It was embarrassing — one of Emilia's experiments had gone rogue, and burned her. The salve she kept in her astronomy room of the Department of Mysteries had healed some of the blisters on her right hand, but not all of them — giving her no choice but to leave the Ministry and head to St. Mungo's. Luckily, she had not run into any of the younger Unspeakables on her way.
She was quickly processed in the waiting room, and sent off to wait for a mediwitch. Emilia read the newspaper with her unburned hand, and looked up at the sound of the small exam-room door opening. "Miss Dawson," she said, with a nod to her son's maybe-former friend. (Emilia was not entirely certain what had happened there.) "Thank you for seeing me."
Alice rather enjoyed the days she was able to remain in the hospital as opposed to responding to calls. It made her feel closer to the dream she'd been unable to achieve, almost as though if she closed her eyes she might pretend she was a healer as opposed to a mediwitch. She flitted about from patient to patient, patching them up and sending them on their way without much difficulty. After all, the complicated cases weren't ones delegated for someone of her caliber. No, those were already sorted into the various wards and Alice would likely never encounter them again.
She hadn't looked at the chart before entering the room - her first mistake. Her second was looking quickly around the room as though to ensure Edison wasn't there. They hadn't spoken in months, not since her letter ending things went unanswered. The silence was telling enough, her betrayal of their united feelings and dreams unforgivable. Somehow, the silence was even worse than any response could've been.
She froze at Mrs. Moony's greeting for a split second before plastering a concerned smile across her face. "Oh, Mrs. Moony! What brings you in? I'm sorry to have kept you waiting."
Emilia noticed the girl freeze; she supposed that Alice Dawson was probably embarrassed to have to interact with Ned's Mama when she did not seem to be on speaking terms with the boy. (Emilia as a rule tried to stay out of teenage drama, but she noticed things — and she loved her son.) But Miss Dawson had never been a bad child; and she had managed to muster a smile for Emilia after that momentary pause.
Emilia smiled back at Miss Dawson. "An accident," she said, "I appear to have burned myself, and my salve wasn't cutting it." She held up her right-hand, with the smattering of blisters — it was reddened, like a particularly severe sunburn.
An accident, a burn. Right. Alice was relieved to have something solid (however unfortunate) to focus on instead of thinking of everything that went wrong with Edison. "You made the right call coming in then." She acknowledged as she turned to the counter to start gathering supplies. (And prayed Mrs Moony wouldn't notice or comment that Alice stood stood with her back to her for a second or two too long.)
The tray of supplies followed her with a wandless motion and hovered besides Mrs. Moony's blistered arm. "This shouldn't hurt too much - would you like a potion for the pain?"
"How much is 'not too much?'" Emilia asked. There was a half-smile on her face — she was genuinely curious, but she was not annoyed — and Miss Dawson was so obviously thrown-off that Emilia was hoping to put her a bit more at ease.
It was impossible to know the answer to her question, as everyone's pain threshold was different. There were some that required a potion for simple sutures and others who could stomach bones regrowing without anything. "More than if you required any sort of sewing of your skin, less than when the burn initially occurred." Alice explained with a shrug. "I'd advise taking it if you're generally sensitive to pain."
Emilia hummed and shrugged back at Miss Dawson. "I think I can go without, then," she said. She was not trying to be too brave, but if it was less than the original burn then she could certainly grit her teeth and bear it — and then Emilia would not have to spend the rest of the day swimming through the haze of a pain potion.
Alice would have laughed if it wasn't incredibly unprofessional in this setting. It seemed that Edison and his mother were quite the pair, for he most certainly wouldn't have accepted the potion either unless it was the most dire of circumstances. Then again, Alice likely would've insisted he take it for her sake (she truly couldn't stand seeing him in pain) and have caved where his mother would not.
Not that it mattered anymore.
She nodded her understanding, not trusting herself to speak with the thoughts swirling through her head, and lifted Mrs. Moony's hand to inspect once more. "I'll start now then, if that's alright?"
Emilia had always respected those in the healing arts, but she watched Miss Dawson hold her hand up and thought she's awfully young, isn't she? But it was less that the mediwitch was young, and more that Emilia herself was old — her son was an adult now, and so was this girl.
Alice worked swiftly and efficiently, pausing only to ensure Mrs. Moony was tolerating the healing alright. There was no use in drawing the treatment out or pausing midway, so she stopped only after bandaging her hand. "You'll want to use some more burn salve on it for the next few days. It should heal well though." Alice explained before turning to gather some extra bandages. "Keep it wrapped until tomorrow evening too. These should be sufficient for that."
Emilia stifled her flinches during Miss Dawson's healing, and gave an exhale of relief when it was finished. "I don't have to come back?" she affirmed, holding her bandaged hand close to her chest.
She shook her head. "I'll check up on you in a few days, early next week most likely." Alice would have to time it well to find Mrs. Moony at home when Edison wasn't, but for something this minor it didn't make sense to have Mrs. Moony take time out of her day to trek back down to the hospital.
"Great," Emilia said, genuinely pleased that she did not have to come back from the hospital. She hopped off of the examination table. Belatedly, she added, "You can find me at the Ministry if you want." If Ned and Miss Dawson were not on speaking terms, Emilia could not imagine the girl wanting to come by the house.
Alice's cheeks flamed as red as her hair. She and Edison hadn't ever discussed who they would and wouldn't share the details of their relationship with, but she hadn't expected him to have confessed it to his mother of all people. That Mrs. Moony was giving her an out from having to visit their home was proof enough that the older woman knew at the very least that something was amiss between the former lovers.
"Yes - that - er, yes. I'll be sure to stop by the ministry." She stammered. It was entirely fair of him to confide in his mother, she supposed. The Moonys had always been a closely knit family, perhaps she had asked him outright and he hadn't wished to lie. "Thank you."
Miss Dawson was awfully embarrassed looking — but she was still young, wasn't she? Friendships ended dramatically at that age, and feelings always felt impossibly large. "Thank you," Emilia said, and hopped off the exam table. Now she really just had to head off and pay.
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