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.
With the same account, complete eight different threads where your character interacts with eight different usergroups. At least one must be a non-human, and one a student.
Did You Know?
Braces, or suspenders, were almost universally worn due to the high cut of men's trousers. Belts did not become common until the 1920s. — MJ
It had been a quiet shift. They often were, working from dusk to dawn rather than the other way around... although Jay supposed the days were not much busier, either. It was a small shop, after all, and the customers who came in more often than not preferred their privacy.
Jay had taken advantage of the emptiness to finish drafting a letter. (To his parents, as all his letters were that were not on Fox & Son business.) He had the books open on top of it, but scribbled another line or two on the parchment underneath when the thought occurred. He had held back a yawn or two in the past half-hour as dawn came creeping in, and Jay was looking forward to heading up to his flat upstairs to sleep the day out.
Drowsy as he had been, he had not been fully dozing, and so had heard the door swing open with a little more force than it ordinarily did.
That didn’t mean it hadn’t nearly given him a heart attack, though, and he was near-startled out of his skin, a leg of the stool screeching under him as he straightened up as fast as he could.
September 12, 2019 – 6:56 AM
Last modified: September 12, 2019 – 6:59 AM by Hestia.
Autumn was fast approaching, and it didn't hesitate to let Hestia know it. She'd pulled her cloak over her, however that was thoroughly soaked through. With her pockets throughly weighed with treasures, Hestia hopped lithely over the cobblestones leading to Knocktourn Alley. Her boots were almost as soaked through as her cloak - on both of which she'd forgotten to cast a repellant charm. Shit.
The path she took to the shop was automatic by now, down to the stones she stepped on. Right foot here, left foot there - avoid the pipe sticking out of the side of the street that you could impale yourself on. Under the ridiculously low shop sign next door, and...
Slam!
It was a little harder than Hestia meant to throw the door open, however, this occasion was paired with a well-timed gust of wind that pushed the door more than she did. If it weren't for her grip on the door, she'd have tumbled headfirst into the shop. Frankly, it wouldn't have been her first time doing so, but she knew that was a less....preferable entrance as opposed to walking silently in.
Despite the startle it gave her, she still managed to catch the look on Jay's face and she let out a bark of laughter as she clung to the still swinging door. Once she'd gotten her feet underneath her, she released the door and let it swing shut again. "You're not falling asleep on the job again, are you?" she teased, walking towards the counter.
It was almost a pity Jay did not have the character to be funny, else he might have tried laughing at her, the way she fell in through the doorway as though she’d been swept in by a gale-force wind.
As it was, Hestia was laughing at him - and he had given her occasion for it, hadn’t he? - to which Jay could only sigh and shake his head. “Again,” he muttered under his breath with a frown of protestation, because it was by no means a regular occurrence, and if she had ever seen him with his eyes very briefly closed, he’d hope she’d keep it to herself. “Not with that kind of entrance, I’m not,” he added, a little louder but more mildly, relieved that not many people actually lived on the Alley to be greeted by such an unceremonious wake-up call.
He was relieved, however, that it was only Hestia, and so he settled back onto his chair, though he drew the accounting books closer to him, eyeing her sopping wet cloak and boots and wondering where she had been. “Don’t drip on anything,” he warned her. Simeon Fox was not a man for mess.
Hestia flashed him another toothy grin. Jay was always a bit less....tolerant to humor than she; it was always an exercise in calming her energy down when she was around him. More energy on her part seemed to have somewhat the opposite effect of what she meant it to. With that in mind, she took a breath and walked towards the front desk. "Sorry," she offered, reaching into her pockets. "Wind got a bit carried away with me, I guess."
She raised an eyebrow at him - it wasn't as if she was oblivious to the rules of the shop. Drip water on any bit of those precious books and it was her head. And she quite liked keeping her head, thank you very much. "I won't," she said lightly, though with a slight edge to her voice. She drew out her wand and waved it across her person. Once thoroughly dry, she placed her wand back in her pocket and drew out the object she'd meant to put on the table. "I wanted to hand this in, and see if you thought it might be of any worth." she said, her manner a bit more business-like. It was a silver pocket watch with delicate engravings on it, swirling all about the back and tapering off as they got nearer to the watch face, which glimmered with the etching of a skull when catching the proper light. "Whaddya think?"
Hestia had always felt like the wind, somehow. Wild and fresh and light of foot, swept from place to place without evident care, could be as warm as the south wind and as sharp as the north. Had come with the wind and would be gone with it too.
But she had stayed in Simeon Fox’s orbit longer than Jay had supposed she might. (Something to do with Fox’s son, maybe. He wasn’t sure. He didn’t ask.) Still, he was glad enough of it, and knew her well enough to be used to her now.
Once she had dried herself off, Jay could relax somewhat, and he suppressed a smile in genuine interest when she produced a find of hers. (‘Find’ was a euphemism, of course, because honest people didn’t go looking for things in other people’s pockets and Jay very well knew it. He’d had to get used to that too.)
In spite of his responsibilities on paper, objects were always more interesting to him than the profits Fox & Son made, even the ordinary looking ones. Jay leaned across the counter in evident curiosity, watching the light glint off it and squinting off the face of it.
“Could be worth something,” he murmured. Fine quality as a pocketwatch, but perhaps even more valuable if it had another trick up its sleeve. Magical watches, in his experience, often had far vaster capabilities than the best kind of muggle one. Maybe the illustration of a skull was a clue. He glanced up at Hestia with an intent glimmer of thought in his eyes. “Do you think it can do anything else?”
Hestia shrugged easily at the inquiry, though she knew curiosity had taken over the both of them. "Haven't the foggiest," she commented as she leaned over the counter to get a better look at the artifact. Her own little trinkets - things she knew wouldn't be of any interested to the shop's inventory - that hung around her neck like jewels on chains swung forwards to clink against the wooden counter. She put a hand against her chest to keep them from cluttering their view. "To be fair, I didn't exactly hang around long enough to ask about such abilities."
She smirked at her own little joke, chuckling a bit as she flicked her wand at an empty stool and drew it over to herself. It spun obediently towards her and she kicked out a booted foot to hook it and draw it under herself. As she settled in, she attempted to offer something more than quips for her own amusement. "What sort of abilities to magical watches have?" Light fingered as she was, Hestia had shelled over multiple watches in the past - some which she stuck around to witness the appraisal, others that she threw onto the counter, collected her dues and went on her way.
Jay kept his smile to himself, but he was pleased when Hestia pulled up a stool, decided to keep him company for this. (And not just because it was useful to have help on hand if he got cursed off it, actually. He didn’t like attention, usually, but this was a focus he never did mind.)
He laughed at her remark about not hanging around - gave a shrug as if to say well, fair enough - and then turned to her question, tapping the watch before them with his wand to see it hover just off the counter-top between them, suspended in mid-air and turning, slowly, to give them a better view. “Oh, wizards love their watches,” Jay commented, “but never seem to care too much about telling the time.”
He squinted at the watch-face with the subtle skull in the background as it spun around towards him. “Often they’ll keep track of other things. Places you’ve been, people, commitments, the stars... warnings of mortal peril, sometimes.” He squinted at the watch-face with the subtle skull in the background as it spun around towards him. “On the other hand, it might be cursed,” he said cheerfully. Not in the owner’s hands, of course - but maybe if someone else clicked the little silver notch on its top...
Hestia sat on the stool, her face cupped in her hands as she stared transfixed by the floating watch as if it were a hypnotist's talisman. Jay's words echoed throughout her mind. She wasn't surprised to learn about their somewhat blase attitude towards time itself, she supposed. Not when wizards and witches with higher education could do something so quick as apparate to their next destination.
However, as someone whose life revolved around stalking people like a shadow, Hestia found it crucial to keep her own timepiece in order to coordinate her little expeditions. Especially when the boys were planning their own sort of schemes and she had to meet them at a certain time.
"Mortal peril," she echoed, taking her chin off her propped up hands and settling into her chair once more. "That might be a useful thing to have in case the boys get into any trouble." While Hestia was confident that the boys operating as her various eyes throughout the magical community were competent, there were past instances when having a sort of clock that told her what kind of trouble the boys were in would have been helpful. Or perhaps if you had on one side, a timepiece, and the other side, something to indicate the level of trouble everyone was in.
An idea popped into her head. "Don't some watches have double facings?" she said, her dark eyes flickering up to the notch at the top, her hand already reaching for it. "For instance, if you press the little notch at the top like so, it would –"
Hestia didn't get to finish her speculation before there was a bang like a firecracker. She let out a shriek of surprise as her feet went out from underneath her, she was lifted into the air like a fish on a line and was catapulted into the bookcase behind the counter.
There was a reason Jay’s job was keeping watch of the shop - and working the books for that matter too. He wasn’t suited to the split-second decisions one might make on the street as a pickpocket or too much of the kind of negotiation done with people that the Hound was so suited for (Jay only managed it because here at the counter he had all the cards). He liked to think before he acted, think long and hard and consider every possibility.
They had made a start on that, of course, but clearly Hestia had other ideas of finding out just how that watch ticked; while he had hesitated to even come into contact with it, before he could get another word in Hestia had reached over and clicked it.
The blast had him half-ducking out of frightened instinct, but it wasn’t enough to spare him from being clipped in the head by Hestia’s whole body as she went flying over the counter and slamming into the shelving on the wall. He winced for her sake (and the shop’s) as books and objects went raining down, slapping the wooden floorboards like a hailstorm.
In a gesture half of defense and half of defeat, Jay slipped off his stool entirely and came to crouch by the back of the counter, though not quite having enough energy to start clearing up yet. And not until he saw how Hestia was - “Hestia? Are you alright?” Jay asked, kneeling near where she had crumpled from the collision in definite concern.
“I did say it might be cursed,” he added, not quite able to stop himself from pointing that out.
She'd taken physical beatings before. The fact that she'd been in a traveling carnival lent itself to her being able to keep in good physical shape. No amount of training at a circus, however, could prepare anyone for being hurled into a book and display case like a sack of potatoes. Hestia's vision wavered as she struggled to find her bearings.
The glass from the broken case crunched beneath her as she propped herself up - thank god her coat had shielded her from most of the debris, but that didn't prevent her cheeks from flushing a bright scarlet at her stupidity. She groaned as she sat up against the broken display case.
Jay's voice echoed unpleasantly throughout her head - every word out of his mouth was a strike to her head. She waved her hand at him, blinking rapidly to return her vision. And yet her cloud of pain and bewilderment didn't prevent Jay's words from reaching her clearly. "Yeah - thank you, Jay!" she snapped waspishly as she reached up to massage her head. "I think that was explicitly implied when I was so unceremoniously hoisted up by my ankles like a common deer for slaughter." She could only be so mad at him for her spectacular display of stupidity, but it wasn't something she preferred to linger upon longer than necessary. Already this was a few seconds too long focusing on her, and she'd hardly gotten up yet.
He nudged a piece of glass away from his knees - Merlin did he hope nothing important had been thrown out of place by the sudden quake she’d made - but he would wait to clear the shop up until he was quite convinced Hestia was alright.
(And when she was safely out of the way.)
He winced as she went to touch the back of her head, and snapped back at him. He’d already said what was on his mind; he wasn’t going to rub it in now. She was probably going to have a bruise or two to do that for her.
He stood up slowly himself in order to offer her a hand up, grimacing in sympathy. “But it could have been a lot worse, I suppose,” he pointed out, trying to ease the sense of foolishness that had been clicking the watch before they - Jay frowned, and cut himself off to ask, “Did you see where the watch went?” It was no longer in her hand. Nor hovering at the counter where it had been.
Hestia hastily brushed the glass off her palms before she accepted his offer of help and grasped his hand. Grunting, she staggered to her feet and let his hand go, leaning back to let the frame of the shelf to help her with her weight. Her cheeks were still tinged pink with embarrassment as she nodded, knowing she (and Jay) could have been paying a higher price for her stupidity. They were lucky that was all it did. At least that's what she hoped. Knowing cursed objects, there was still time for things to go wrong.
Her eyes followed his gaze to where the watch would have been. Looking left and right, she couldn't see the watch and wondered how on earth she was going to explain this to Fox. She pursed her lips and gingerly took a step forward, testing how much her ribs would protest. Ugh. This was going to suck for the next few days. She'd have to tell Gordon she wouldn't be able to make their sparring session for the next week. "Don't tell me I've fucked this up in more ways than one." she said through gritted teeth. "I think he'd skin me alive."
See, Hestia hadn’t even spent quite so much time with Fox as he had over the years, but she wasn’t exaggerating one bit. She knew how dire things could get if they weren’t careful. One didn’t want to find their way onto Fox’s bad side for nothing.
But the mess was one thing, and the vanished watch quite another. “Hey, he doesn’t know about the watch,” Jay reminded her, supposing he was the first one she’d had a chance to show it to, “and what he doesn’t know can’t hurt him.” (They would probably find it fallen to the floor somewhere. Unless this had gone badly wrong, and the watch had some kind of return-to-owner counterspell on it, or a mind of its own and an ability to hide itself away.) Regardless of what happened, he liked Hestia well enough not to turn her in to Simeon for the sake of it. He didn’t rat people out by choice. “I’m sure it’s here somewhere. Sure you’re okay?” Jay added in concern, watching the ginger step she took. Now that was something Simeon Fox would notice if he came across her.
Jay had a point, Hestia conceded with a grimace as she brushed remnants of dust off of her coat. "Very true," she added, her mind already whirring. She was glad that Jay saw the seriousness in the situation –– though if anyone saw the seriousness in any situation, it would be Jay over Hestia any day. Her eyes kept scanning the room as she listened to him. Nevertheless, she paused in her searching to give him a grateful smile. They might have had their differences at first, but Hestia knew when it came to either of them experiencing the wrath of the Fox, neither would wish it on the other.
"I'm quite alright," Hestia reassured him, reaching out a hand to press on his shoulder in gratitude. "Pride's a little wounded, but not much more than that." She sighed, taking out her wand (thank god it hadn't broken) and flicking it. The glass, scattered on the floor in little droplets, floated back into their rightful position. "Do you see it anywhere?" she asked, through the thickness of everything flying through the air to repair itself.
It was quite meaningless - and he kept a neutral expression, did not externally react to it at all - but her touch of his shoulder had a weightier effect on him than she had probably intended. Jay couldn’t say why, particularly. She was free like that, but since he had left his family at fifteen he had become unaccustomed to people’s touch. The Foxes were close, as their unusual ‘family’ necessitated, but he would not go so far as to call it affectionate. But Hestia could brush anything off and make anything a comfort; he might have had his doubts about her in the early days, but now he was nothing but grateful.
And she was doing her part to clear up the mess, so he was thankful for that, too. Without the glass crunching underfoot, Jay managed a visual sweep of the place and caught sight of a glint coming from under a cabinet. The watch must have spun away, but still appeared intact. “Gotcha,” he murmured, fancying Hestia was nearer to it but, all the same, darting over to retract it himself with a meticulous spell. “You don’t mind if I do a... few more tests on it before you take it back, do you?” He asked quickly, hoping she wouldn’t be offended - and would trust him. The credit for picking it up was all hers, he knew that and he hoped she didn’t think he wanted to undermine her work, only -
It would be easier to look at without fearing more little mishaps.
She could have kissed him. Given that she knew Jay was less receptive to such displays of affection (or in her case, gratitude), Hestia kept her distance and smiled gratefully at him instead as he went to fetch the watch.
Frankly, she was grateful he'd offered to take a further look at it instead of insisting her take it back immediately. She hadn't been caught off guard in a long time, and, though she had no doubt that might have been the worst it could do, it was now a symbol of her foolishness and she scowled at the object. "Tuh!" she scoffed, flopping down again on the corrected stool at the counter.
"Better you than me, I've already got enough bruises for today." She sighed, propping her chin on her palm, ready to observe Jay doing his work. He was much better at the details of appraisals anyways. There was a reason he was behind the counter and not her.
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