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Welcome to Charming, the year is now 1895. 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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Did you know? Jewelry of jet was the haute jewelry of the Victorian era. — Fallin
What she got was the opposite of what she wanted, also known as the subtitle to her marriage.
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only in my darkest moments can I see the light
#1
28 February, 1894 — Take Two — Various Locations
Ben didn’t exactly remember getting back to his bed the night before, but he wasn’t entirely shocked to find himself waking in his room at the Hogwarts castle. It was where he lived, after all; there was no place else that could reasonably be called home, certainly not with Melody gone. Home would, he supposed, eventually be wherever Nora was living, but for now she was still at Diana Abbott’s house, until more permanent arrangements could be made. He hadn’t had anything to drink last night but he still felt groggy this morning, like he was hungover — could someone be hungover from grief?

He had no intention of teaching today, even if the snow had cleared, but he thought it would be best to take a peek at the weather before he approached the Deputy Head about it. It would help him frame the conversation better if he knew whether there was a “reasonable” excuse for canceling classes or whether he would have to make time to give a rough lesson plan to whoever was going to cover for him. If that was the case, he'd only be able to get the day off by letting everyone know there had been a death in the family — or another excuse Valenduris came up with. He wasn’t especially eager for his students to know anything about it, because he didn’t want to have to guard his feelings for the rest of the year while they brought it up with all the grace eleven-year-olds possessed (none), but it it was the only way to get himself the time he needed to process things then he’d have to do it. But maybe if he was lucky the blizzard would be back, and he could hide in his quarters all day with a flask of whiskey and not have to share his grief with anyone. If the bad weather lasted just one more day after this then he’d make it to the weekend, and maybe by Monday he’d have pulled himself together enough to at least get through an hour long flying lesson and a handful of Quidditch practices and the cover wouldn't be necessary at all.

It wasn’t actively snowing when he checked, but it seemed that it had snowed again last night; the ground in the courtyard was a clean white sheet. Something bothered him about it, but it took him a moment of staring morosely out the castle window to realize what it was. All of the things the students had done in this courtyard yesterday were completely gone. The snowmen, the forts, the paths beaten down by repeated footprints, the scattered snow angels. A dusting of fresh snow might have obscured them, but it wouldn’t have erased them — not unless they’d gotten more feet of snowfall last night instead of just inches. Ben felt like he would have noticed if it had been storming that hard again last night, even in the midst of everything else he was going through… and there was something off about that, too, because they had already had several feet of snow, and if they’d gotten several more feet the window he was looking through would have been buried by now. So — what? The snow had melted all the signs of the children’s play away sometime after he’d left yesterday, and then a bunch more of it had fallen, and somehow he hadn’t noticed any of it?

Of course, there could have been a magical explanation for it. Maybe the groundskeeper had finally found a spell that worked at clearing away the snow — Ben knew he’d been trying at it for most of yesterday. It was a bit of an odd choice for him to use it just to demolish snowmen and not to actually clear walking paths through the courtyard, but — well, Ben wasn’t really in a position to tell Copper how to do his job. It was weird, but hardly the biggest thing for Ben to worry about right now. His wife was dead; his child was motherless; he needed to go find the Deputy Head and see who was taking flying class today so he could try and wrap his mind around the concept of planning a funeral.

He headed to the Great Hall, because that seemed the most likely place to find Valenduris at this time of the morning. The atmosphere seemed different, abuzz with something — some students were chattering to themselves in low voices, while others seemed confused. For a moment he irrationally assumed they had all heard about his wife already, somehow, but there was no way that was possible. Ben hadn’t told anyone beyond Skeeter, who hardly seemed the gossiping type. Some of the staff members might have heard, but certainly none of the students. It wouldn’t have been in the paper; Ben hadn’t written to them yet to print her death announcement, and she wasn’t well known enough in society (anymore) for anyone else to have reported it. But the scattered hushed conversation in the Great Hall reminded him of the days after Pembroke’s death; it made him feel as though something had happened, and so he grabbed a copy of the Daily Prophet from the edge of the staff table before he sought out the Deputy Headmaster and scanned the front page for anything that might have caused such a stir.

The headline was mundane enough, but then he realized that was because he was holding yesterday’s paper. He frowned and tossed it back on the edge of the table, then approached another staff member with a paper in hand. “Is that today’s?” he asked, with a nod to it. “Do you mind —? Just for a second.” They surrendered it without a fuss, and Ben scanned the front page again… and saw the same thing he just had, on the paper he’d discarded. He flipped through to the sports section, the only one he reliably read, and scanned that — the same thing he’d read yesterday, article for article. So this wasn’t just a misprint on the date or even on the front page — this was an entire paper that had already been delivered, except the person who’d given it to him apparently hadn’t noticed it at all.

Ben frowned at the paper, trying to figure out what he was missing. It took a long moment, and then finally it clicked when he remembered the pristine courtyard: a crisp sheet of white snow with no sign of anything he’d seen built there the day before. It was the twenty-eighth of February.




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#2
The snowfall had, mercifully, ended shortly before Melody and Nora finished their breakfast. Despite the odd looks given to her by the household's staff members, she had insisted on the toddler sleeping in bed with her, both because of her anxiousness over the storm itself and her daughter's continued mutism. The duo hadn't spent longer than an afternoon away from the cottage since returning home from the hospital. After all, the cottage was safer for Nora to navigate, for there wasn't enough room for the toddler to disappear for more than a minute or two.

With the floo continuing to remain out of service and the snow piled higher than Melody could see out the window, she knew there was little hope in returning home yet. Soon, perhaps but even if the floo sparked back to life Melody wasn't sure if she'd trust it completely. The system likely took time to right itself back into working order and she had little interest in reappearing at a random location with a toddler.

They were safe here. The storm couldn't get to them inside the sprawling manor.

Melody and Nora had ventured from their room and were heading down the stairs when a familiar head of brown hair was suddenly being let in from the cold. "Ben?" Melody called, her surprise evident in both her tone and the way she rushed down the stairs. There was a broom clutched tightly in his hand still and his cheeks were wind burnt. Panic crept up the back of her neck, what could have been so urgent that he would have flown all the way from Hogwarts? "Are you alright? Did something happen?" She asked urgently, her grip tightening around Nora's waist as she balanced the girl on her hip.


#3
Ben wasn’t sure he’d had a fully fleshed out thought since he’d realized the date in the Great Hall. Everything was coming in snippets, fragments of memories and rushes of emotion and half-baked ideas. He didn’t remember the last conversation he’d had with Melody; something inconsequential. He’d thought about that yesterday, after he’d gotten the letter and heard she was dead (the letter that was nowhere to be found now, of course, because it hadn’t been sent yet). They’d talked over the Christmas holiday when he’d been out of school, but he couldn’t actually remember what the last conversation was. The letters they’d exchanged since then had been equally empty — or seemed so now, anyway, in light of what he knew was coming. So the first thing he’d done was head to the owlery, with the intention of sending her a letter that could be a proper goodbye… but then one of the students, seeing him go in, had asked “d’you think it’s safe for them to fly yet?” and that had stopped Ben in his tracks.

Diana’s owl had made it to him — or would make it to him, later today. It was safe to fly. And if the skies were clear for owls, then they would be clear for brooms. He could fly.

The hardest part of it, actually, was getting to the pitch in the first place. The snow was piled high and magic had no impact on it, so he had to stomp his way through it collecting water and weight with every step. Some of it had started to drift and he was able to find a crooked pathway where the snow was far less deep, but his trousers were still soaked through to the knee by the time he opened up broom storage. He took the time to magically dry them only because it would have been a death sentence to brave the air chill with wet clothes on a day like this. He had the sense that time was of the essence, even though he didn’t know precisely when it happened — but all of their time was limited now, wasn’t it? Whether he made it to the Abbott home with minutes to spare or hours, it still wouldn’t have been enough time. They were supposed to have the rest of their lives. Melody wasn’t even going to see sunset. He was wrestling with the same deep rift of guilt that had surfaced when Nora survived the dragon attack. He was so much more cognizant now of how limited time was, and subsequently how much of it he’d wasted. Wasted during the separation, wasted working at this school, wasted arguing with Melody. At one point in the past he would have thought he wouldn’t miss her if she’d gone, but he knew with the certainty of recent and painful experience that wasn’t true at all. He missed her terribly, and she technically wasn’t even gone yet.

So much wasted time that he couldn’t get back. Every time he thought of it he pushed his broom a little faster, as if he could make up for it, but he knew he couldn’t.

He’d spent the length of the flight wrestling with grief (and occasionally dodging suspicious weather formations) and none of it thinking through a cover story for why he was showing up at the Abbott’s home unannounced. It seemed so paltry, in the face of everything, to waste any of his mental energy on silly lies. So when he arrived at the door all he said was “Is my wife still here? Is she —?” Alive, alright, am I too late? he did not manage. He was shown in, and then there she was. Alive, alright, holding Nora on her hip, looking worried.

“Mel,” he choked out, reaching for her. “Melody.”




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#4
The news must be grave then, Melody distantly thought as she rushed across the foyer to hold him. Nora squirmed in her arms, anxious to see her father and escape the tight embrace the three of them now shared. “It's alright, Ben,” Melody softly soothed despite realizing everything was likely anything but for him. Someone had to have died to provoke this kind of response in him, someone close. Helga sprang to mind instantly and was just as soon dismissed as a possibility. Ben had no real opinions on his brothers’ wives as far as she knew, surely not as strong an opinion as his siblings. Which one then?

The squirming toddler soon forced her way to the ground and was quickly guided away by Diana, whose concerned and puzzled reflection mirrored Melody's own. She took the opportunity then to take a half step back so that she could look up at him. One of her hands came to rest lightly on his chest, her other remained on his waist. “What happened?” Melody then gently asked.


#5
What happened? Nothing he could tell her. Nothing, yet, at all. Ben looked at her with eyes heavy with misery. (Was he making everything worse by having come here? Not remembering what their last conversation had been had been eating him up after he heard the news, but now he would always remember this conversation, whatever he said now, and it would always be a conversation where he was already grieving her. He should have known that it would be impossible to come here and make happy memories to hold on to. If he’d asked anyone else’s advice prior to coming they probably would have told him not to, but he hadn’t stopped to ask, and now here he was.)

“Can we go somewhere? Like a room,” he asked. They were still in the hallway and he had decided he wanted to kiss her, but he didn’t think she would let him do it in front of the awkward bustling of the Abbott’s servants.




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#6
It felt hideously indecent to disappear into a bedroom with Ben. The butler was still silently observing their exchange, there were likely at least two or three maids stashed about the room to eagerly await the gossip. The news that Ben had shown up here in distress when he was supposed to be at school would be halfway across England by noon — further than that if the skies had truly opened up. Adding to the gossip that they had rushed upstairs to a bedroom felt incredibly disrespectful to Diana and William.

She shot a glance down the hall towards one of the more uncommonly used parlors. It was supposedly permanently set up for when William's mother visited and was far enough away from the south parlor where the children were currently playing for Melody to not fear being overheard. (That Ben required privacy to mourn wasn't new, that the news was tragic enough to warrant such measures was nauseating.) “Yeah, this way.” She nodded.

Melody led the way to the parlor, her hand tight in his until the door was eased shut behind them. Then, she quickly charmed the room silent to prevent anyone from eavesdropping on whatever it was Ben had to share. “Is it Aldous?” She then asked, her expression full of concern.


#7
Ben watched her walk as she led the way to a parlor, trying his best to memorize everything about her: the way the hair curled at the base of her neck where it wasn’t long enough to be caught up and styled; the curve of her waist; the lightness of her gait. Was it going to be better for him to have remembered all these things more freshly, or would that only make it hurt worse when she was gone?

Her mentioning Aldous caught him entirely off-guard. He frowned at her quizzically. “No,” he asked, feeling as though he’d missed something important and not sure whether he cared enough to trace back through their interaction so far and find it. Everything felt so inconsequential compared to what he knew was coming. “Is what Aldous?”




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#8
”Why you're here,” Melody explained. Ben was more heartbroken and wretched than she had ever seen him. Even the way he stared at her felt different, almost like he was seeing her for the first time again. “With this weather and all, I - I didn't think I'd see you anytime soon.”


#9
She didn't think she'd see him any time soon. Ben could have laughed, or cried, or both. If he hadn't flown halfway across the country they never would have seen each other at all. This was all stolen moments, a conversation that shouldn't exist. (Was he going to fuck up something, cosmically, by being here? He hadn't thought about it before now and it was too late to not come).

“I just wanted to —” he started, clasping her hands tight — and then something occurred to him that stopped him mid sentence, eyes wide.

He was going to fuck something up by being here.

He had already changed something, from the last time this had happened. Maybe he could change everything.




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#10
He was beginning to frighten her with odd behavior and continued lack of answers. Melody kept her hands in his, fearing what might happen if he was suddenly untethered from her. She was growing increasingly sure that something drastic had happened, though what it was she was no longer confident in. The mention of Aldous ought to have been enough to provoke the cause out of him if it was one of his siblings.

“You just wanted to …?” She replied, her brows furrowed in confusion. That he would put himself in mortal danger to see her in these circumstances made no sense. Even if they were trying again, even if their relationship was at least friendly again, Ben still had an obligation to his students and their safety. He wasn't so irresponsible as to abandon the school entirely and without word — not after the months of unemployment and stress that accompanied them.



[Image: dqAG6wz.png]
beautiful set by mj
#11
Ben’s mind was racing. He hadn’t realized that he had externally frozen until she prompted him by repeating the sentence he hadn’t finished. He didn’t know if this would work, but the moment the idea had occurred to him he knew he had to try. But he knew this was going to sound crazy to her, no matter how he tried to explain it — so maybe he just wouldn’t try to explain it.

He pulled his hands from hers so that he could step forward and cup her face in his hands, and kissed her like he would never be able to kiss her again.

“Will you leave with me?” he asked, when he finally broke away. “Just until tonight.”




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#12
Melody had no time to consider their previous promises (slowly, they were supposed to be moving slowly) before she became lost in the kiss. It was a kiss unlike any other they'd shared — barring perhaps the closet when Melody had first thrown caution to the wind. She knew she ought to stop this, if only because they were in her best friend's house with any number of people attempting to listen in, but she couldn’t find her voice within the intensity of it.

When he eventually pulled back, Melody remained with her hands gripping the back of his jacket as she blinked away the haze of desire the kiss had summoned. “Of course.” She promised breathily, for there were no other answers to be had. He was her husband, there was nowhere Ben could lead that she wouldn’t follow. “Of course I will,” she repeated again, leaning forward to press another quick kiss against his lips. “But, once we’re there I need you to explain to me what’s happened, okay?”

She didn’t wait for his response before pulling away completely and looking back at the door behind her. “I’ll just go get Nora and our bags. It shouldn’t be long.”



[Image: dqAG6wz.png]
beautiful set by mj
#13
She’d agreed; Ben felt a rush of relief. He’d been worried that she would want answers before moving, and he still had no idea what he was going to tell her. And he didn’t know whether this was going to work, still — he didn’t know exactly what had happened, and he didn’t know that it wouldn’t happen if he took her away from the Abbott house. It was possible that this was somehow wrapped up in fate, that there would be no escaping it no matter how far he ran, but — he had to try.

“Do we have to take Nora?” he interjected, catching her wrist before she could leave. He hadn’t expected Melody would want to bring her — stupid, in hindsight, because of course she would. But if this didn’t work, if something did happen and Melody did die, Ben wasn’t sure he trusted himself to handle Nora’s grief on top of his own. “It’s just until tonight. She’s safe here, isn’t she?”




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#14
Diana would have no qualms about keeping Nora while she left for the night with Ben. After all, the girl was practically a second child to the widowed-but-not Mrs. Abbott. However, the thought of leaving Nora behind — of being further than a shout away — turned her stomach. She couldn’t leave Nora behind — what if the house was to catch fire and they never found her in the flames? What if she got hurt and couldn’t properly explain her pain due to her mutism? There was so much that could go wrong, so much that could see her worst nightmare come to life.

“Of course she’s safe here.” Melody replied automatically despite the lump forming in her throat. Nora was safer here than she’d ever been in London or Irvingly, as they had never had so many eyes keeping watch out for the toddlers. “It’s just - I haven’t left her. Not since - “ Not since the dragons, not since they’d nearly lost her. Her palms turned clammy as she lightly tugged her wrist from his grasp. “What’s so important that she couldn’t come? What’s going on Ben?”


#15
Ben grimaced, unsure what he could possibly say. I’m worried you might die and I don’t want Nora to see it wasn’t going to cut it. Even if she believed him, Ben doubted she would choose to spend what might be her last hours on this planet with him if she could instead be with their daughter. It was stupid of him to have even asked her to leave Nora behind, because now she was clearly on guard. A second ago she’d agreed to leave, but now she wanted to know what was going on — he’d botched it. His chance to change things, and now she wasn’t going to come with him.

He ran a hand through his hair and let out a nervous breath. As he did, he caught a glimpse of himself in a mirrored tea tray on the table by the door. No wonder Melody had started in immediately asking what was wrong; he looked wild. If he did manage to get Melody away from here and it didn’t change things, he thought darkly, everyone was going to think he had murdered her. Estranged husband shows up unannounced, looking like this, convinces her to leave the baby behind… and she was never seen alive again…

“I — this is going to sound crazy, if I tell you,” he started. He didn’t think telling her was a good idea, but he didn’t know what else to do — and he already looked crazy, so perhaps he might as well play the part. “I — think something bad is going to happen to you, if you stay here today.”




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#16
TW: SUICIDAL IDEATION
He was right: it did sound crazy.

Despite having never discussed the topic at any length with Ben, Melody highly doubted that he had spoken to a seer or saw something terrible in his tea leaves that would provoke such a dramatic reaction. He’d flown across the entirety of Scotland and half of England to find her here, so whatever feeling he had had to be substantial enough to warrant this behavior. “You think something is going to happen to me?” She echoed, still entirely unsure of how she felt about the revelation. He was desperate, that much was obvious, and her immediate reaction had been that someone had died.

She leaned heavily against the door behind her, her knees suddenly weak beneath her. There were hundreds of times in the past four years that Melody had considered her end and how she’d orchestrate it. She considered potions and spells or the simplicity of a knife. She thought of where she’d do it and was stopped only when she considered who might find her. It couldn’t be Ben — the guilt over her death would eat him alive. Nor could it be their housekeeper or any of her friends. However, by the time Melody managed to plot out the right place, she was pregnant and life no longer seemed so bleak.

Now, Melody felt as desperate as he that they somehow prevent her end. She was Nora’s sole caregiver. She knew the routines and what the little sounds her daughter made meant. She sang her to sleep every night and had such hope over what it would be like to watch Nora grow. She couldn’t die — not now, not like this.

“I’ll go with you.” She told him shakily. “But we’re taking Nora. I can’t - if it’s going to happen here - “ What if instead of her dying Nora did? There was no life for her without her daughter. There was no hope, no future. “I can’t leave her, Ben. We can take her somewhere else if you think it’s too - “ Melody squeezed her eyes shut against the panic now storming her brain. They had to get Nora out too, they couldn’t risk her safety.



[Image: dqAG6wz.png]
beautiful set by mj

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