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
Dean was a sucker for a good twist on what could be a very ordinary evening. It wasn't that he didn't enjoy a good ball, where else was there such a good selection of single folks to lure into a coatroom for a little fun, but sometimes they got a little monotonous. Naturally, Dean had opted for the pink carnation, pinned it to his lapel and waited for the fun to begin. Pity (though understandable), that it wouldn't work on another gent. It would be amusing though.
He'd only locked eyes with an unfortunate debutante who seemed like she'd been bullied into it by her chaperone and so he took it in stride, working through the clumsy waltz easily, trying to make her feel at ease. He hoped she would pluck up the courage to go back to a traditional dance card, he even pointed out how. Dean's ease with people came a little bit too naturally; he was good at reading them, conversing and flirting (in multiple languages), so he could manage just about any social situation.
He'd been careful to skim the crowd over the rim of his bourbon glass and avoid catching anyone's eye during one of faster-paced dances to give himself a minute to survey his options. The galop was coming to an end and the polka up next when he managed to catch the eye of a pretty lass across the room. Downing his bourbon, he set the glass aside and made his way to the dance floor, holding out a hand for her to take, a charming smile affixed to his lips. "Pink is a good color for you." The compliment rolled off his tongue easily as he took his place on cue for the music.
A party where men were obligated to dance with her seemed to Hanna like an excellent way to find prospects before the season. She had spent today preparing for this, working on one of her largest jigsaw puzzles until the tingling in her limbs faded — she had arrived late to the ball because of the delay. She picked out a pink carnation with confidence she did not feel — Hanna's moves while dancing were never quite in the pattern of the more graceful debutantes, and she knew it. This had been the case even before the curse had started to take over. But dancing was so intrinsic to being a debutante that she had to try her best, and if she was charming enough people would hopefully overlook her mediocrity —
Another man had met her eyes. Hanna took his hand carefully, and smiled back at him. "Really?" she said, "I'm not sure I like it — but it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance." This one was handsome!
Ah, Dean did enjoy making other people smile. "Really, and the pleasure is all mine." He assured her with a grin of his own as the music began. Dean was fairly coordinated, but not overly graceful. He could lead well enough, but mostly he relied on charm to keep anybody from noticing any missteps. "It is good evidence that fortune favors the bold."
Fortunately this was a relatively slow-paced tune and he could keep up the casual conversation easily. "Have you had much luck turning heads this evening?" Dean would assume she had; her features were striking, though perhaps not in a straightforward sort of manner. He was used to appreciating the more unusual things in life and she was intriguing.
He was not an amazing dancer either! Hanna was relieved. He was certainly better than she was, (that wasn't hard to accomplish,) but she was so attuned to what she was doing that she caught a misstep. He was, also, definitely a better conversationalist than she was — although at least the slowness of the song gave her the time to overcome her urge to immediately answer.
"Mostly my sleeves," Hanna said, with a sheepish smile. "I like them, but I know they're rather — large."
She swallowed. She should ask him a question, now — that was how good conversation worked. "Have you been turning heads yourself?" she said. She flushed. People did not discuss men's fashion very often! "I like your jacket."
"Ah, well if you like them that is all that matters." Fashion was such a fluid thing. If she was satisfied with her garments then she should feel good about that. He couldn't often made heads or tails of what was in style, nor did he often need to be all gussied up, but he did have a couple of trusty suits to rely on for nights such as these.
"Thank you. My father always said you needed three suits, black, blue and grey," Dean recounted the advice easily enough. "As long as they're well-tailored," which his were, impeccably so. "You'll get by just fine." Tonight's suit was the grey, his favorite, a subtle pinstripe to the fabric and a close cut to the body. It was well-made and a perfect fit.
He hadn't anticipated her turning the question directly around to him, and the resulting chuckle was appreciative. "You know, it was not the plan tonight, but I suppose it's rather hard to say no with the dance cards working they way that they are." That was the whole goal was it not? "What do you think of the twist on tradition?" He asked after he spun her out and back again.
Hanna had not previously discussed fashion with a man for longer than a sentence or two; she was elated that Mr. Hudson had actual thoughts on it. She gave him a once-over. To her understanding of men's fashion, the suit was very well-tailored — or maybe it just complicated his figure well. "I like the grey," she said.
She giggled as she twirled back towards him. "I like it," she said, "I'm dancing with people I haven't had the opportunity to meet before, which is delightful." After all — she was not sure that she ever would have ended up dancing with Mr. Hudson if she had not met his eyes, and she was charmed by him so far.
Dean beamed as she mentioned she liked the suit. "Thank you, it's my favorite. I like pinstripes." Never mind that half the time he wore it, it would up in a heap on someone's floor, but he supposed that was his goal more often than not. A quick press and it was back to good as new.
"Adventurous, I like that, too." Dean said with an amused smile. Too often the debutantes were too shy or stuck in tradition to find something like tonight's compulsory dance cards worth their time, but so far he had yet to be disappointed. "Do you enjoy meeting new people then?" He asked, hearing the music start to wind down. Dean could only be described as an extrovert; around people was where he was most himself. He was a bit of a chameleon too, able to blend into quite a few different crowds seamlessly, so tonight was a good opportunity to meet new and interesting people, like Miss Applegate here.
The dance was almost over; Hanna was disappointed. It was not often that she had a dance this successful. "Oh, always," she said brightly. "People are so interesting." She missed the days when she could understand people, but those were long since past — but even with her charisma limited, she was interested in Mr. Hudson.
"Although I do hope I have the opportunity to meet you again," she added quickly. She wanted to make it as clear as possible to Mr. Hudson that she was enjoying his company.
Dean felt as though he'd found a kindred spirit in Miss Applegate tonight. "Agreed," he chuckled. People were interesting, it was the best part of coming out to socialize. He liked to puzzle them out, to find someone who fit his mood at the time to engage with. It was always a bit of a welcome challenge and truthfully, just fun.
Quirking an eyebrow at her straightforward comment, Dean could appreciate the sentiment. "Nobody says we have to part ways now," he mused as the last note resonated across the floor. He dipped into a little bow and offered her his arm. "Unless someone else catches your eye." Or his, but he could very skillfully avoid anyone's gaze for a little while. "Some refreshment?" That could give them a little while longer to chat if she liked.
"No one else," Hanna echoed — as long as she kept looking at him, it was easy to take a break from dancing. This was the first conversation she'd really enjoyed tonight — even if she was being a little too direct, she would not abandon Mr. Hudson if he was not willing to leave her yet!
"So I would love some refreshment," she said, offering Mr. Hudson her arm with a straightforward motion. "Do you have a favorite?"
Dean casually looped his arm through hers, amused by her eagerness to continue the interaction. He had plenty of experience with debutantes and their society interactions, but Miss Applegate was no fresh flower, so far as he could tell, but he supposed that did not diminish the desire to make a connection; in fact it might make it all that much stronger.
"I have many," Dean knew that made him sound a bit like a lush, but it was true. He liked to drink socially and had different needs for different situations. Tonight was not so severe as to require anything heavy, but he could always rely on whiskey. "I'll wait to see what's on offer," he could be just as content with a good champagne and did not want the miss to feel as if she had to try anything more than that either. "Let me guess?" Dean appraised Miss Applegate for a moment, thinking she was not quite so straightforward as to go for a simple lemonade or punch. "Wine, red or white?" That was the trick, wasn't it?
He had many drinks of choice. Instead of seeing that as a bit of a red flag, Hanna found it charming — people who were handsome and had several favorite drinks simply could not be lushes. "Red," she said, after a second — she flashed a big smile up at him. She liked the way that red wine felt on her tongue, especially as compared to the fruitiness of white wine.
Usually she didn't have particularly strong feelings about it, even with that soft preference. But Mr. Hudson looked like the sort of person who would like red wine, and she wanted to seem like that type of person, too.
Dean would have guessed white, but then again he could have been wrong altogether and was secretly a huge fan of rum or rye from the States. "Red it is then," Dean agreed as they approached the bar. He flashed the barkeep a smile and ordered two glasses, sliding a few coins across the bar top smoothly. It wasn't his favorite, but he could manage a merlot when the time was right.
Handing over her glass, Dean headed over to one of the tall tables near the edge of the room and sequestered one for them to use. "Besides a cheery, outgoing disposition and a penchant for red wine, what else is it I should l know about you, Miss Applegate?" As much as Dean was comfortable leading a conversation, he was also pretty good at listening and as they had both already agreed, meeting new people was a perk of events like this, so why not indeed, get to know them too? He always had to wonder what an evening for the young ladies of the ton was actually like. Did they do a lot of the talking or most of the listening? As far as his own conversations went, the gents always liked to listen to themselves, so he wondered if they even bothered to what the ladies had to offer. They were often far more interesting than given credit.
This was where she struggled — when small talk transitioned to talking about herself. Oh, I spend a great deal of time being cursed, was both something that she had never been able to functionally say out loud, and an understandable turn off to most eligible bachelors. She took a small sip of merlot before answering.
"I have a particular interest in music and puzzles," Hanna said cheerfully. She paused, having never said this without garnering some questions.
"Music and puzzles," Dean mused. He was pretty good at chatting about anything generally, knew enough about enough to get by in a conversation, and this was no exception. "I admit, I enjoy music as much as the next person." He was no aficionado and he lacked any sort of musical talent whatsoever, but he could appreciate it for what it was.
He took a sip of his own drink and surveyed her carefully. "What is it about music and puzzles that appeals you to? I'm assuming this is jigsaw puzzles?" He had to make sure. "I admit I cannot sit still long enough, but they must be a good challenge?" Sometimes he couldn't even begin to know what it was that debutantes got up to in their spare time, have been largely absent from Mae's social scene days, and her courtship happened so fast that he didn't have to worry about it either. Still, he never passed up the chance to learn something new.
"I find them interesting," Hanna admitted, smiling. It was easy to talk about puzzles. She knew that other people were much less interested in them, but she spent so much time focusing on puzzles that she was always pleased to talk about them. "They're a good mental challenge, yes — and you get to see the whole image at the end."
It chased away the thrum in her blood, yes — but over the years it had become something else for her.
![[Image: Dean-Sig-New.png]](https://i.ibb.co/b12dTvC/Dean-Sig-New.png)
