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.
There was nothing about St. Valentine's day that Charles liked but he'd had the luxury of being neutral about it up until now. He'd never acknowledged the date with Noelle and he'd liked to have continued doing so but Miss Lestrange would probably take it as a snub and he simply couldn't have that. For a fleeting moment he had also considered using the pre-existing forced romanticism of the day to propose but then he realized he'd rather die than sacrifice his masculinity and self-respect to become the greatest living cliche in wizarding Britain.
He had gotten her a nice gift though and it was jewelry, although he realized afterwards that earrings were perhaps a poor choice because the box was roughly the same size as that of a ring. At that point it was too late, however, and whilst he could return them what could he swap them for? A necklace seemed like too much and a bracelet probably wasn't much better than the earrings. Resigned to risk it with the earrings, he decided he would have to balance out the suspiciously ring-sized box with a very underwhelming backdrop that would convince Miss Lestrange that it wouldn't be the scene of his proposal to her.
Padmore Park was too 'romantic' and would probably be heaving anyway, a formal indoor occasion was too risky, but the Black Lake? Now that probably wouldn't be densely populated and if he was lucky the weather might even be unpleasant. What if it was too unromantic though?
Damn it all something was better than nothing! It would do. At least once he'd proposed none of this would be an issue. No, no it wouldn't do, it was sloppy and almost as bad as ignoring the occasion. A brisk walk by the lake and then lunch somewhere? If he presented her with the gift by the lake then she could have no reason to suppose he was about to propose over lunch. Once he'd finally settled on his plan and made a reservation he sent her an invitation and then there could be no going back.
Now that the day had arrived he had a slew of mixed feelings and the earrings were burning an ominous hole in his pocket, figuratively speaking as they were most definitely not cursed. In his one hand Charles held a modest bouquet of (mostly) lilies while the other loitered uncomfortably near the aforementioned pocket. He was sure enough that he remembered her preference for lilies correctly but not sure enough that he wasn't deeply concerned that he was about to brandish unwelcome funeral flowers at her and set a poor tone for the rest of the day. "Good morning, Miss Lestrange, you look very fine today." Resplendent would be his word at choice if he wanted to seem like a chump, although he'd absolutely be an honest chump. "These are, of course, for you." He held the bouquet out for her to appreciate and - hopefully - take from him.
For any other gentleman, Tatiana would have rescheduled. She had the silly Selwyn affair this evening, after all, and it was winter—a cold one at that! Mr. Macmillan, though, for all he had vexed her by not yet extending an offer of marraige, was still the man she intended to call Husband, and so she had written back to graciously accept.
Even in her woolen coat with her hands tucked into a fox fur muff, Tatiana could not help but wish for the warmth of the tearoom. Still, though she did not feel warm, her smile and greeting for the gentleman certainly were as she approached. The flowers he extended to her in greeting certainly helped—she did love lilies, and any sort of bloom was costly at this time of year. A good sign.
"You're very kind indeed, Mr. Macmillan," she offered, leaning dutifully in to smell the flowers before reluctantly extracting a hand from her muff to accept the token of his (she hoped) affections. "They are, indeed, lovely."
Lovely, and swiftly handed off to the maid who was to serve as her chaperone—at something of a distance, if Tatiana had anything to say about it.
"I'm glad you like them." He offered her his arm once she'd passed the flowers to her chaperone.
Now that she was there he found himself reconsidering his stance on a Valentines proposal. Was it really so cliche to stake his claim on the object of his... ? It was only February 14th, the day after February 13th, it was just another day, why shouldn't he? And yet the box in his pocket contained a pair of earrings not a ring and he hadn't yet formally sought permission from either her uncle or her brother. It wouldn't look good if he asked her to keep it to herself so he had time to go ask permission!
He quickly looked her over. The weather was more bracing than he'd have liked but he had been so caught up in his own plans for the day that it hadn't bothered him until now when he turned his face to the wind. She looked snugly bundled up and he thought her cheeks were pinker than usual which somehow made her look even prettier. Charles cleared his throat. "You're not uncomfortable I hope, Miss Lestrange?" If she was feeling at risk of windburn or was cold then it wouldn't do him any favors if she did mistake the earrings for a ring on top of it all. He supposed it'd be better to have her blushing from happiness at his gift than rosy-cheeked from the weather, even if one would last longer for him to admire.
"The weather is rather bracing," she replied, trying not to sound too dry, "but I am all the warmer for your company."
Indeed, she felt a decided satisfaction in their closeness; not love or even affection, but victory. For that, Tatiana Lestrange would gladly endure the elements.
Charles felt oddly fuzzy inside at her words. However, he wasn't sure if that meant he ought to rescue her from the elements now or not. He decided to stick with the lake but perhaps be quick about it.
"I thought Padmore Park might be overrun today," he said, trying to subtly hint at the date.
"Oh?" Tatiana asked, looking up at him, uncertain of his meaning. It was a fine, sunny day, to be sure, but still (as previously noted) a brisk one. With the weather-charmed garden party on the docket for that afternoon, she rather thought most of those who desired to be out-of-doors would have fled the village altogether.
Mr. Macmillan was many things, but quick to approach his point or intention, the witch had found, was not one of them. Plainly, he needed a bit of encouragement.
"Well, the privacy suits me quite well, I think. I should be loath to share your attentions with passers-by, I must admit."
There was that fuzzy feeling, it was a little like heartburn but not so unpleasant. "And I yours." That was about as much as he could bring himself to say although he felt very strongly on the matter of sharing her attention. "February 14th seems to send society into a frenzy of absurdity." Not that any other holiday didn't but this one was particularly grotesque for its lascivious connotations. "I've never cared for it myself."
St. Valentine's Day—was that was Mr. Macmillan had invited her out this afternoon? Tatiana had not previously given much thought to the date, though now it seemed quite clear. She halted the pair in their progress and turned to face the wizard, some concern (but mostly amusement) on her face.
"Mr. Macmillan, I hope you did not make an affair of today for my sake?" She had relinquished her place on his arm, but as Tatiana spoke, her hands moved to each lightly entwine gloved fingers with one of his own. "I am quite happy to spend time with you on any date, of course, but I fear we are of one mind on the occasion."
He was a little alarmed as he felt her pulling back and stopping. Of course she was the one sane female who didn't subscribe to all the silliness of 'the day of love'. Thank god he hadn't taken the idea of proposing that day seriously - he'd have made a soppy fool of himself! As it was he was seriously reconsidering the earrings.
Charles didn't know what to say at first, she'd interlocked their fingers and it was highly distracting. The sooner he proposed, the sooner he could have more than just her gloved hand in his. "I was under the impression all ladies liked St. Valentine's," he admitted sheepishly. What he'd most been concerned about, however, was that if he did nothing he would hurt her feelings. It would be splendid when they were married - he could forget the date without fear of repercussions for the rest of his life! Another point in favor of Miss Lestrange - not that he was keeping score anymore, he'd been certain of her for a while now. "But I'm by no means disappointed to hear that you feel otherwise on the matter." Not disappointed was an understatement which he made quite apparent in his manner of speaking. "However, I hope that doesn't mean a small gift would be unwelcome?" He didn't think there was any reality in which she would say no, simply he had found a good opening for presenting her with the earrings and thought he'd been pretty charming about it too. Charles was pretty good at summoning up charisma when the situation really needed it but he'd found himself on a back foot with Miss Lestrange more often than not - he believed it was something to do with her, but it was actually him, he'd never wanted to please someone so very much.
She might have made a comment about not being like other ladies, but then he mentioned a gift. Although he seemed rather fidgety, Tatiana knew better than to hope for a ring; after all, she had heard nothing of such inclination from Tiberius or Mariana, both of whom would have told her at once. Still, tangible proof of his continued interest was nothing to be scoffed at.
"I would never be so rude as to refuse something acquired with me in mind," Tatiana answered with a small, melodic laugh, looking very much the part of a young woman quite besotted but not in a bunny-boiling manner.
Charles reached a hand into his pocket and retrieved the little box. She seemed enthused which was good, hopefully she wouldn't jump to conclusions at the sight of it though. It was too late to change his mind about it now however.
"I saw them and thought they'd suit you." He held out the box for her to take. The earrings came with a matching necklace but giving her both at once had seemed a bit much considering they weren't engaged yet.
Gingerly, Tatiana reached out to take the proffered box, savoring the expectant, almost anxious look on Mr. Macmillan's face as she did so. As she opened the box, though, her eyes widened in genuine delight—in part at the earrings themselves which would, indeed, suit, but also because she could tell how expensive they were, and the more money a gentleman spent, the closer they were to proposing.
Between her use of his first name and her appreciation of his gift - far from the thinly veiled disappointment he'd been fearing - he was about ready to gleefully dive into the Black Lake like a madman. However, he was not a madman and he had a firm handle on his emotions. At least on the outside of his body he did. Mostly. Were his ears red? They felt red.
"Not as beautiful as you."
Oh shit, he'd actually just said that with his mouth, out loud, to her face. So much for having a handle on his emotions. Damn it. There was a difference between carefully cultivated compliments and quips that alluded to partiality and simply announcing one's raw unedited sentiments! The latter left nothing to her imagination, it was crude and made him seem as spellbound by her as she was of him and it wouldn't do! It wouldn't do at all but it was too late, he'd already said it. If his brain hadn't been disarmed by her then he might have said something charming but still slightly aloof like "But not as beautiful as the lady they're for".
This all fell outside the plan. He was to get her flowers, they were to promenade, and she was going to reinforce their suitability by agreeing with everything he said, but in a fashion that made her seem like some sort of Titan rather than a simpering idiot. Jewelry, while a delightful turn, was not something for which Tatiana had prepared, and so the witch bit her lower lip for a moment (not a particularly refined habit) as she contemplated her next move.
"While I do trust your judgement," she offered, "I feel as though we have never properly had a chance to be judged side-by-side. Would you, perhaps, help me to put one on?"
Tatiana's smile was a mixture of teasing and slyness. To affix the earing to her ear, he would have to get very close indeed—perhaps she could maneuver to conclude the day with an engagement after all.
Charles was sure he had misheard her at first, or rather, he knew what he'd heard but he could scarcely believe it.
It was insane, she was toying with him, she wanted to make a fool of him! No he didn't believe that at all, it was his insecurities suggesting hateful things to him for he'd never put an earring on anyone before and it would mean touching her rather intimately. He was going to fumble and look every bit as uneasy as he felt or else be distracted by the temptation to do a great deal more than caress her earlobe. There was no way out of it without risking her feelings and he couldn't disregard those until she was his wife and her affection for him could be taken for granted.
"As you wish."
Earrings were easy enough surely? They were just pretty gems on a little hook that slipped into a hole in the ear, how hard could it be? Actually it was quite lewd now he thought about it. Did it hurt to wear earrings? If he did fumble would he make a fool of himself and cause her physical pain? At least he wouldn't be alone in that.
He plucked one of the earrings (thankfully without dropping it) and took a small step closer to her. Charles tucked the smallest strand of hair out of his way, mainly to buy time whilst he scanned her earlobe for the right spot. Ah, there it was! At least it was the only thing he could see that resembled anything like a hole so probably he wasn't about to skewer her. Reluctantly he had to steal a glance at his hand to check how he was holding the earring - was there a technique to it? Should he angle it some way in particular? There was nothing for it, he would either have to ask her or just go ahead and hope for the best and he definitely wasn't asking for help. As he moved in his other hand instinctively came to the assistance of the other by holding her earlobe in place, simultaneously trying to touch it as little as he could.
She had spent enough time in Charles Macmillan's company to know that he was quite tightly wound. Should she kiss him, Tatiana suspected, it would be an utter gamble: either he would react in such a way that he would have no choice but to marry her, or he would declare her wanton and be done with it. But if he were to be induced to kiss her, the debutante would hold every single card in the deck.
As he moved in closer, Tatiana's lips parted ever so slightly, and she exhaled with just a bit more force than usual.
