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Welcome to Charming, the year is now 1894. It’s time to join us and immerse yourself in scandal and drama interlaced with magic both light and dark.

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Queen Victoria was known for putting jackets and dresses on her pups, causing clothing for dogs to become so popular that fashion houses for just dog clothes started popping up all over Paris. — Fox
It would be easy to assume that Evangeline came to the Lady Morgana only to pick fights. That wasn't true at all. They also had very good biscuits.
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These Strangers are Friends That You Never Met
March 28th, 1894 — Pennyworth, Hogsmeade

The route from the High Street to Pennyworth was not altogether a familiar one, but she had long had a memory for directions. Memory, a funny thing—Persephone Broadmoor had never expected that she would be lost from it altogether, as though the rest of the world had been obliviated of her existence. She knew it would be silly to expect Ivy to be any different, but still, it was towards her friend that the witch found herself roving.

Though she had posed the question, Persy had turned down Mr. Applegate's offer of Ministry support, at least for now. This level of freedom... the witch hadn't had anything even resembling it since her childhood back in Bridgerton. She would, if she could, work matters out for herself.

She very nearly strode right through the familiar door out of habit, her fingers wrapped around the knob before she thought better of it. Ivy Sandow was no silly housewife who would shriek at an unfamiliar intrusion, she was a trained auror who would no doubt jinx first and ask questions later. Instead, she withdrew the hand, knocked upon the door instead.

"Miss Sandow, I need a word," she offered by way of greeting, mentally recoiling slightly to see not even a faint glint of familiarity in the eyes of her oldest friend.
Ivy Sandow

do you know what happened that night?

mj makes glorious sets!
Until the woman said her name, Ivy thought that she was here for Winnie. Ivy knew everyone who visited her — she was stingy with her address, as she had never been a person who enjoyed unexpected visitors. So she thought that the knock at the door belonged to a pregnant woman — even if she didn't look pregnant — who was seeking Miss Moony's services.

Ivy looked the blonde woman up and down as if she could discern what this person wanted. "Why," Ivy said — her tone was more statement than question, and she did not move to let the stranger in.

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Having known the other witch for as long as it properly mattered, Persephone had... overlooked Ivy's intransigence. Ought she have lied, said she was looking for the midwife instead, just to get through the door? No—somehow, Persy thought, the lie would have been harder to overcome.

Ivy was too smart and too stubborn for tricks, and so tricks must be dispensed with.

Persephone chose her words carefully: "You do not know me, but I am a friend. If you let me inside, and assure me that Miss Moony is not at home, I can prove it, but the evidence I will use to do so is not something you wish to be overheard."

The witch was not confident enough in the... specificity of an Unbreakable Vow to risk being overheard anyway. Who knew if willful divulgence was necessary and not just merely saying the wrong thing at the wrong time? She liked being alive, thankyouverymuch.

"I was... I was a friend of Orwell's, too," she offered with some hesitation. It would hammer home, she hoped, the nature of her evidence, but Persy was not altogether certain it would not set Ivy on edge.
Ivy Sandow

do you know what happened that night?

mj makes glorious sets!
Ivy was deeply skeptical until the blonde woman mentioned Orwell; she stiffened, like a cat raising its hackles. "Fine," Ivy said, and took a step back from her door despite herself.

She would rather talk about this inside than on her doorstep where Jack any of her neighbors could overhear it, and if they went inside then she had the option of hexing the woman.

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As she had hoped, Orwell's name had gotten her across the threshold and into the familiar home, though in spite of the fact that she had visited dozens of times before, it seemed colder now, as though sharing the apprehension of its owner.

It was not lost on Persephone that she hadn't been shown through to the parlour.

"My name," she spoke clearly, with more confidence than she felt at the moment, "is Persephone Broadmoor. I am the youngest daughter of Augustus and Millicent Broadmoor, though neither they nor my brothers could attest to that at the moment. I, and a handful of young ladies—" not other young ladies, for aside from their shared circumstances, Persy did not feel any sense of kinship towards those who favoured the typical pattern of Society "—have fallen victim to some sort of memory... memory anomally. Mr. Ezra Applegate of the Department of Mysteries can vouch for this, as I have just left him at the modiste. You and I, Ivy, have been best friends since our first year at Hogwarts."

Persy wondered what effect her... elimination from memory had on the events of the past. Had her part in Ivy's life been subsumed by another person, or was there simply a void, one glossed over and dismissed by the brain, where Persephone had once stood?
Ivy Sandow

do you know what happened that night?

mj makes glorious sets!
The woman seemed sure. Ivy's immediate thought was to think her mad — anyone, after all, could name the Broadmoors. Cleon and Ivy had been on Baxter's Knoll together with Orwell and Thomasin, and both were known to have grown up in Bridgerton — describing the Broadmoors was not proof.

But Ezra Abercrombie was an Unspeakable. Ivy's gaze was hard as she looked the woman up and down. The look did not enlighten her. She bit back her first response: There is no Persephone Broadmoor.

(If the woman was mad, then telling her that fact may just set her off. Ivy was sure that she could beat this woman in a fight, but she might knock over some of the furniture, and then she'd have to explain things to Winnie.)

"If you've known me for so long," Ivy said, "Tell me about myself."

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   Persephone Broadmoor

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This, Persephone could do. She began with the names of Ivy's immediate family, the name of the man who had told her she was a witch, banal details about life at school. She faltered a moment before adding, "I am not certain of the... perameters of the anomally. If there is a story in which I featured, I do not know if it still happened, as far as you're concerned. Like your teaching me to fight, after my kidnapping the year before last."

The witch hesitated. There was one story she expected was still true, given the reaction to Orwell's name. She took a breath to steel herself, for it was not something they discussed even amongst themselves, not since Thomasin died.

"Of coruse," Persy continued quietly, "there was the ritual. October 19th. The blood rain."
Ivy Sandow

do you know what happened that night?

mj makes glorious sets!
All of this was information that could be learned by some well-done stalking, (she did not remember a kidnapping impacting her, although teaching someone to fight seemed like something Ivy would do) — except for the blood rain. Ivy's jaw tensed.

Of course, she'd suspected for years that Thomasin's death had come from the Unbreakable Vow. She had never verbalized this, because she did not think that anyone would appreciate it — she didn't think they would believe her. Her friends had never really seemed like people Ivy would fit in with naturally.

She could not be sure — she could be right about Thomasin. Or the blonde woman could be telling the truth. "Walk me through the blood rain," Ivy said, tone flat. "Carefully."

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   Aldous Crouch

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