Charming is a Victorian Era Harry Potter roleplay set primarily in the village of Hogsmeade, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and the non-canon village of Irvingly. Characters of all classes, both magical and muggle — and even non-human! — are welcome.
With a member driven story line, monthly games and events, and a friendly and drama-free community focused on quality over quantity, the only thing you can be sure of is fun!
"Are you always this forward?" He asked teasingly since it would be a very short thread if he just ignored her entirely. — Tobin Cartwright in Take A Peek
Did you know? Churchgoers and worshippers had to endure a foul stench during prayers due to the amount of bodies often stored within the vaults of churches and chapels.
The first half of his final year of school was drawing to a close. Walt wasn't sure whether he should be pleased or not about that, but truth be told he was more anxious about it than anything else. He still couldn't quite fathom that in three short years he would effectively be the head of the family, and the thought was positively terrifying. He was even considering working after graduation just to keep his mind off it, but he wasn't convinced that adding more responsibility would be a particularly good cure for his worries.
But before he could tackle those decisions, he would have to survive another holiday at home. It would be good to see Minnie and his mother again, he supposed. As for the rest... well, it was always an exercise in patience and familial love.
He spotted Sam across the Great Hall, and he grudgingly admitted to himself that he couldn't avoid his brother for much longer. After saying goodbye to his friend -- there was no need for Sam, of all people, to know about them -- he approached his brother and offered a smile.
Sam had been doing... something in the Great Hall. To be quite honest, he wasn’t particularly sure himself. He was very distracted and was a bit bored, so was just spending his time doing something or other. Doing a bit of daydreaming, scheming a bit, doing a bit of both at the same time. You know, the usual.
He would have liked something to do, or someone to talk to. However that did not mean he wanted to spend time with his brother. Ew Walter. Walter was an idiot and Sam hated him. Sam hoped he died at some point in the future before he produced disgusting spawn that were probably dirty, liberal halfbloods so that he himself could get all the money that should have rightfully been his. The Slytherin still thought that he would make a far better elder son than his brother. It just sucked that Walter was actually older than him.
“A little bit,” Sam replied, “I am looking forward to seeing Mamma and Emma again.” And Minnie too, kind of, but mostly his mother and Emma.
Ugh, of course he was looking forward to seeing Emma. Knowing both of them, it would only be a day or so before they conspired together in some plot to embarrass him or murder him or some combination of the two. Walt had to wonder what he had done to deserve being born a Pendergast, though he supposed his branch would be more tolerable than Ellory's. He wasn't quite foolish enough to wish that he could spend the holiday with them instead.
"Yes, it will," he agreed noncommittally, already floundering for something else to talk about. Why had he decided to talk to Sam, again?
"I heard that the Junior Quidditch League is having tryouts at the end of the month," he ventured, figuring Quidditch would be a sufficiently neutral topic. "Are you thinking of trying out?"
Sam looked to his brother. Walter was such a dick. "Of course I'm trying out," he replied dryly, "Hoping to get a seeker position so that I can be even better than I already am - if that's even possible." He said his last phrase with a large degree of smugness because he thought he was the best player ever to have graced the earth with his presence.
"Are you going to try out?" Sam asked, half jokingly because BAHAHAHA Walter was shit at quidditch. Probably because he was secretly a girl. That's where all of his problems came from. He secretly had a vagina. Although would Sam know about ladyparts? I'm feeling not because no sex education guys.
Ugh. Walt immediately regretted his choice of topic. Sometimes he went so long without speaking to Sam that he forgot he was an insufferable ass about everything. He decided it would be useless to try to impress some humility into him, since he would probably lose his badge if he started punching him in the middle of the Great Hall. Walt was reasonably sure that physical force would be the only thing to get through to him at this point.
"I don't think so," he said, doing his best to keep his tone neutral. "I doubt I would measure up to all those who've been playing for years." Father would have rather died than see his heir play quidditch. Walter supposed he got his wish.
"Me neither," Sam replied, far too cheerful for the words, "We all have our talents though. I'm good at quidditch, and school, and talking to girls, and all that; and you're good at..." Sam paused to over emphasise a thought process, before finishing, "Whatever it is you're good at."
Sam laughed internally. He thought he was fucking hilarious.
Good lord. Walt rolled his eyes at his little brother, each second that rolled by in his presence only serving to remind him of why he never really got homesick. A small part of him wanted to fire back some insult, but as long as he was on school grounds he would have to maintain at least some semblance of decorum. Sometimes being a prefect was overrated.
"I like to think polite conversation is one of my talents," he sighed irritably. "Perhaps you need some remedial etiquette lessons, little brother. I'm sure if I asked Madam Prewett she would be happy to oblige."
Sam slowly turned to his brother, in a look of 'ex-fucking-scuse me?'. After looking at his brother for several seconds in shock and disgust he said, "When you're worthy of polite conversation, I'll be very happy to do so," Sam internally laughed because lololol Walter would never be worthy, "Until then I shall not waste my time and energy being polite."
Then Sam stopped talking, and then too late he thought of something to say. So then he added, "Oh! And why don't you go see... the not being talentless Professor to go get some lessons on how to be... not talentless!" His tone was so lame, the thought came far too late, and was too rushed.
"Someday you might be as impressive as you think you are," he replied, rolling his eyes. "You're setting an awfully high bar, though. I'd hate for you to be disappointed in yourself at the tender age of fourteen."
He spotted his mother on the other side of the hall, craning her neck to look for them. "If you're quite finished being a prick, we should go say hello to Mother," he said, raising his eyebrow in a challenge. Being a shit in front of Mother was a stretch even for Sam, he hoped.
Sam was as impressive as he thought he was. Hence why he thought himself so impressive! He was many things, but he wasn't delusional Sam, you are so delusional. The bar he was setting was completely understandable! Just because he was awesome and was going to be minister for magic one day no you're not, Sam, unlike his brother!
Walter was probably going to be like... the minister for stupid people. Smooth
Yeah.
Rolling his eyes, Sam agreed. He wasn't happy about the move to their mother, because Sam enjoyed being a dick to his brother - and he couldn't be a dick to him when their mother was around.
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