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 1894. It’s time to join us and immerse yourself in scandal and drama interlaced with magic both light and dark.
See your character from sorting through graduation by completing at least one thread each year (10+ posts, 3+ yours) and participating in the initial sorting ceremony.
Did You Know?
Did you know? Before the 1920's, it was believed that the Milky Way Galaxy was the only galaxy in the universe. — Steph
Morning, September 2nd, 1894 — Ravenclaw Table, Great Hall
It was bright and early Monday morning, and Charity had captured a pixie.
Charity had a habit of capturing whatever little creatures she could find, be it mundane or muggle. They were interesting to watch, and even more interesting to draw. A good portion of her trunk was taken up by her countless sketchbooks, which Uncle Evander and Uncle Alfred made sure to purchase for her whenever she requested another.
Usually she kept the creatures for a few minutes—a few hours, at most!—but this one was especially pesky and had pinched her nose when she'd tried to set it free. Naturally, she'd recaptured it and was now holding it hostage in a jar.
She sat it down in front of her at the Ravenclaw table, not paying any mind to the students around her. She was starving and there was a plate of sausage calling her name. The pixie continued to shriek in protest, barely muffled by the glass.
"Oh shush," she said, poking the glass with the end of her fork.
That Cora Best had been quiet since returning to Hogwarts had gone, by and large, unnoticed. Though she had never been an unfriendly girl, she had always been more reserved in nature, more inclined to listen than to speak. She had smiled at the right moments, nodded at the right moments, and given those in her company the space to take up extra room in a conversation. No one had to know.
She had reported to breakfast with her black school robes atop a simple, dark grey day dress, her school books clutched to her chest like a shield against the onslaught of people. Hogwarts had, over the last four years, become a home to her, but the transition from the quiet of the farm to the chaos of the castle corridors was, each year, a jarring one.
And speaking of jarring...
The fifth year did not, at first, register the jar on the table, positioned close to Miss Lloyd across from her. Cora might have remained altogether in ignorance had the creature within not been in possession of powerful, screechy lungs. It looked like what her mother would call a sprite of some sort—perhaps a fairy or pixie? Even at this close a distance, with her glasses tucked safely away until class began, the edges of the creature were a bit too blurry to make a positive, definitive identification. Regardless, it was evidently a creature and decidedly disinterested in captivity. Cora allowed this knowledge to percolate for a few minutes before finally breaking—a small crack in an otherwise calm demeanour.
"Perhaps it wishes to be free. Perhaps it does not like being in a jar," Cordelia remarked quietly, almost coolly, as she added marmelade to her toast. "I daresay you would feel much the same, were your positions reversed."
"Oh, certainly," she conceded, barely sparing the other girl a glance as she continued on with her meal. The pixie seemed to screech a little louder each time Charity put down her fork, as if each bite of breakfast might mellow the Ravenclaw enough to have pity on it.
"And in fact, I did try to release him this morning." There was an indignant edge to her tone and a scowl half-painted on her face. She was not angry—but perhaps a little miffed. "And the little bugger tried to take my nose off. So in the jar he stays."
There were worse fates that could become the little thing, Charity mused. She could have squished him! Plucked his wings out and tossed him from Ravenclaw tower! Trapped him in her trunk and left him there all day in the darkness. But she was a benevolent captor. Mostly.
"Do you suppose pixies like cucumbers? I think a nibble would quiet him," she asked, finally looking up at girl.
"You don't get to punish your captive for not liking its captivity," Cora's voice was raised slightly now, very uncharacteristically so.
She had never before had an issue with Miss Lloyd, an odd girl with whom she had not previously had much overlap. Nor was Cordelia particularly invested in the welfare of pixies (though she did, generally, care about the welfare of creatures). Other than the screeching, she had no horse in this particular race and yet she could not help but insert herself.
