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.
She rubbed her gloved hands together against the cold as she entered Honeyduke's, the tinkle of the bell above the door all but drowned out by the chatter of voices within the shop. Though she had joined the first expedition of students for the day—the last Hogsmeade excursion before the Christmas holidays—she had stopped first at the broom shop to pick up some polish for Hermia. Honeyduke's was alive with festive cheer and Hogwarts students eager for a sugar high, though Clementine's own spirits were somewhat more subdued: one year ago today, her father had passed suddenly and startlingly, and the remainder of the week-end would be spent in her family's company.
The list of those she had to shop for was reasonably short:
— Hermia, who would receive some broom polish and some of Honeyduke's fudge
— "Portia", who, too, would receive fudge as well as [appropriate small gift]
— Mama, for whom Clementine had already finished a lovely watercolour of a clementine branch
— Ford and Noble, who were mysteries. Maybe stationery, of some sort?
— Verity, a series of monogrammed handkerchiefs stitched whilst Clementine struggled to stay awake for her astronomy lessons
— and Grace, a second-hand pocketguide on the art of conversation acquired over the summer months
(Part of her wished also to pick up something small for her favourite professor, but would that be too much?)
Seeing the fudge counter had a bit of a wait, the Hufflepuff made her way instead to the brightly-stocked shelves of Bertie Botts beans, chocolate frogs, licorice wands, and every colour of bonbon one might possibly have a desire for (and some she did not know were colours at all). It was a display of sugar quills, however, that drew Clementine's attentions, at least until she noticed the customer nearest her trying to get something down from a shelf that was clearly not intended for those who were not employees of Mr. Honeyduke himself.
"You must be careful," the sixth year cautioned, "or else it might f—"
It was unlikely that Addison would be able to afford much of anything come Christmas time, but he was certain that he could at least afford something cheaper from Honeyduke's, a store he'd been in only once before.
From experience, cheaper things were usually put out of reach of most. Those with extra money to spend could afford the middle of the shelf stuff, but if there was a discount or even some goods that were going bad before Christmas time. The Chathams were used to slightly expired foods anyways, it would not be too much of a change.
The sound of another shopper touched his ears briefly, but not soon enough. The small box of Acid Pops fell right on Addison's head, and he toppled over. Addison swore loudly, turning bright red when he noticed that there was a young lady standing right there. Or maybe that was the Acid Pop he'd just pulled off his cheek. He rubbed it, frowning at the mess. He would have to pay for this now, for sure.
"My apologies, Miss, um," Addison pulled his notebook out of his pocket, wondering if he'd met her before. He flipped through the pages quickly before determining that he had not. "Miss." he said lamely.
Well, it would be Acid Pops for the Chatham Christmas, then. He bent over, on his hands and knees as he tried to analyze which Acid Pops looked like they were unharmed enough that they could simply be placed back in the box.
A lot of thing happened at once—the mess, of course, but also an apology paused by a...brief perusal in a notebook? The Hufflepuff was rather taken aback by all of the above, and though she immediately bent to help tidy the mess upon the floor, it was a moment before she offered the boy—a Ravenclaw, she thought, though she could not conjure up a name for him for the life of her—a reply.
"You needn't apologize to me," she offered with a reassuring, but decidedly polite, smile. "There's no harm done on my account, and I am hardly the shop's proprietor! Are you alright?" Clementine added, gaze drifting to an acid pop that seemed to have adhered itself to his sleeve.
Addison was grateful that at least there seemed to be no hard feelings in the girl. The shop's owner, on the other hand...well, Addison had heard nice things about Mr. Honeyduke, and he could only hope that they were true, as few of the Acid Pops seemed salvageable.
"Yes, miss, quite all bright," Addison answered. "Thank you for helping me," he added, certain that she would rather be doing something else. It was a Hogsmeade Weekend, after all.
He followed her gaze and realized with a bit of a start that there was an Acid Pop on his sleeve. He removed it as quickly as he dared, though he noted the burnt hole that was left on a set of robes that was already not looking at its best. With a small tutting noise, he looked at the sleeve, frowning as he analyzed it. He'd have to see if his mother could sew it up.
"I should be very cruel indeed if I left you to fend for yourself—many hands," Clementine offered with a kind smile, "make light work and all that."
Tragically, there were too many people about for Clementine to feel comfortable using magic to remedy the situation as she would have at Hogwarts, a much quicker solution. Curse those underage magic restrictions!
Addison nodded his head, tidying up the last of the Acid Pops that were able to recover, though it left him with a few crumbled ones. Less than he thought there would be, though still enough to put a sizable dent in his Christmas savings.
"Would you care for an Acid Pop? I haven't got enough family to share all these with. I suspect they retain their properties even if they're...crumbled." he frowned at one, analyzing the amount of broken. Once the acidity wore off, one did begin to feel like a bit of a daredevil for trying them.
In case there was any hesitation regarding the gift-giving, he added, "I'll be paying for the damages besides, so it wouldn't matter too much who gets them."
"Surely they cannot expect you to foot the bill for an accident," protested the Huffelpuff, who had very little understanding of the way capitalism worked but had a very well-developed sense of right and wrong.
Addison assumed at the frown that he must've said something wrong. Then she continued speaking.
"Er...they can," Addison confirmed, trying to think of a way to explain why without asking if she had ever been in a store before. That seemed like it might come across as rude, though if it had been one of the boys he knew those would've been the first words out of his mouth.
"I mean, they could've made money off of these...and now they're broken, they can't? No one wants to buy a broken Acid Pop, y-yeah?" he fumbled with the words, "So I have to make it up."
"They could," Clementine allowed, "but they also might have stocked the shelves a bit better, so that this might not have happened."
And this, Clementine decided, would be precisely the argument she would make should whomever was working in the shop today press the Ravenclaw for compensation.
Addison was mildly surprised by the witch's optimism. Then again, he had a roommate who tended to think in a similar manner. Perhaps it was the way that others were brought up, not to think about those things. He wished he had a quill. He would've made a note in his notebook about it.
"I-" Addison couldn't think of what to say, which wasn't terribly uncommon for him. He did think it was partially his fault for attempting to reach them in the first place, after all.
"I don't think that'll work," he admitted, shaking his head and glancing nervously at a shop worker.
Curiously, Clementine eyed the boy. He seemed already rather defeated, a viewpoint that, in her opinion, was decidedly premature. Unless he had been in this position before—which, she allowed, was possible—it hardly did him good to expect the worst-case scenario!
"Shall we go inquire, then?" she offered, brightly but with a bit of a challenge to her words. The Hufflepuff did not know when they had become a we, but she was quite certain she did not wish the boy to blow all his pocket money on fallen acid pops.
Addison refrained from shrugging, a habit that more than a few had told him was rather rude. He was almost certain that bad things were going to happen, perhaps he'd end up working at the shop over the holidays instead to pay off the debts. On the other hand, if it did work out and he didn't have to pay for the broken Acid Pops...well, that would save him the money, which was always a pressing worry.
"Why not?" Addison said, hoping that both luck and the shop worker would be on his side today. Perhaps with the aid of the overly optimistic young lady who had joined him in the situation, they might be.
Clementine Greengrass required very little encouragement in life, and so the boy's Why not? was more than enough to light a fire under her. Without even looking to see if he was behind her, the Hufflepuff made her way over to the nearest shop employee who wasn't behind the counter managing the sweet teeth of the Hogwarts youths.
"Excuse me, Sir," Clementine greeted politely but as though rather on a mission (which, she supposed, she was), "I am afraid my friend has had a bit of an accident." This was said with sympathy, both for the Ravenclaw and for the shopkeep that she now realized was not a shopkeeper at all but Mr. Honeyduke.
When the students came down from school for their visitation days, Quin liked to make sure the shelves were stocked and he had an extra employee on hand to handle the madness. It was never a dull moment, the shop was packed from the time the students arrived until the time they left and he could probably make up a month's worth of revenue from this single day each month. It was brilliant, really.
He was behind the till, helping sort out those who were ready to make their purchases, but it seemed the pair that had come up next were not quite there. "Seems like it," Quin frowned for a moment, hoping nobody had been hurt. He noticed what looked like broken bits of hard candy sticking to the young gentleman's sleeve. "Everybody alright? I can send someone over to clean things up in a moment if you just tell me where." He assured the students with a quick glance over to the aisles, though he couldn't quite tell if there was even a mess yet.
Since it concerned him and he had no desire to let the girl take the blame for something that was entirely his fault, Addison followed behind her, listening as she introduced the situation. He had to admit, it was nice to have someone to stand up for him. He was not expecting the owner of the store to be the one she went to. Assuming this was planned, he admired her guts. Er, maybe that wasn't polite, not for a young lady, anyways, even if he was just thinking it. He admired her courage. That sounded better.
Speaking up for himself, Addison said, "It's the Acid Pops, just over there, sir."
He gestured to the area, wincing at the memory of the fallen box of Acid Pops. He wasn't sure they were anyone's favourite, but certainly there were pranksters that enjoyed giving them to their friends as a rather harmless joke. To try to remedy the situation he said, "I can pay for the broken ones if you would like me to."
![[Image: Quin-Sig-New.png]](https://i.ibb.co/Jy66Y91/Quin-Sig-New.png)