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.
Oh the most exciting thing has happened to me! I went out with Mr. Marlowe as his date to a ball for this or that reason, I can't be bothered to recall what the function was for. I was dressed in my best gown of blue, made of silk with a large bustle and small train. I wore the sapphire encrusted hair comb that Mr. Marlowe gifted to me last year as well. I was forced in that matter. But I digress. While dancing with Mr. Marlowe, a gentleman asked to cut in to our dance. Circumstances of decorum dictated that Mr. Marlowe allow this, though it was plain to see that he was loathe to give me up to the arms of another man. I, however, was glad to be out of Mr. Marlowe's arms.
The man introduced himself as Mr. Sampson Browne. He told me that he was sorry that the man (referring to Mr. Marlowe) had been bothering me. I giggled slightly at this! He thought he was saving me from being cordial to a stranger! I did not inform him that I had been courting this man for over two years, fighting it all the way. I found that I did not think to speak of Mr. Marlowe at all. I simply thanked him for saving me from such droll company. We danced only one song, but the song was rather long. He danced quite well, didn't step on my feet once like Mr. Marlowe had a habit of dong.
He was so handsome, too. I could tell he was quite a few years my senior, but I care not for his age. He was kind to me and treated me as a woman should be treated. I enjoyed the reprieve from Mr. Marlowe, but it was not to last. When the song ended, Mr. Marlowe returned to my side. He spoke of the nerve of that man, daring to break up a dance between he and myself. I just giggled quietly at this. He took a tone with me that he had never taken with me before, and I knew then for sure that his fancy for me had long since passed and that I was nothing more than a prize to be had.
Oh how I wish my circumstances were different. I fear Mr. Marlowe is approaching the day when he asks for my hand in marriage. I do not want to become Mrs. Marlowe. I do not want to be left under his wing. For I doubt he will be so forgiving of me for leading him on for two years. Sometimes I think of fleeing. Running away and not looking back. But I've no money of my own. No way to care for myself, so it is an idle fancy; a pointless dream.
I dreamt of Mr. Browne last night. The feel of his arms around me, the touch of his hands on mine. I awoke feeling refreshed and even perhaps a bit giddy. I do not know what's come over me, but seeing him in my dreams made me awake with happiness. Caroline would call me silly, but all in good fun. But my happy disposition was not to last.
Mr. Marlowe and I had a lunch scheduled for today. He came promptly as he always does. We ate lunch then it happened. He turned to my father and asked for my hand in marriage. Without giving me a chance to say anything, father agreed. I am to become Mrs. Marlowe in February of the coming year. I am furious. As soon as Mr. Marlowe left, I got into a fight with my parents. I've never yelled at them as I had today. I yelled that they were cruel. That I hated them. That I would never speak to them again. They yelled back that I was ungrateful. That Mr. Marlowe was the only man that would have me after how long I extended our courtship. I ran to my room and wept.
Even still, I weep. I weep for my lost freedom. I weep for Caroline. I weep for all of my hardships.
I ran into Mr. Browne today. He congratulated me on my engagement, which was announced in the Daily Prophet. I thanked him humbly, but I think he knew that I was not so excited for my impending nuptials. My chaperone gave me a look when we chatted for a few moments. Memories of the dreams I'd had of him came unbidden into the forefront of my mind. Yes, I'd dreamt of him even after my engagement to Mr. Marlowe. I do not know quite how to explain how I felt upon seeing him again. It is not a feeling I can recall experiencing before. It's silly, to feel so faint when he says my name. He doesn't even greet me familiarly! And yet, my heart thudded in my chest when I heard his voice greet me. Oh I do not know what's becoming of me.
There was a Halloween masquerade tonight. I, of course, went with my fiancÃ, Mr. Marlow. Perhaps I should call him Silas now that we're to be wed. After all, I will be forced to share my body with him, so why shouldn't we be on a first name basis? I've been with him technically for three years now. But perhaps I just do not want to concede defeat. And by addressing him as Silas, I would be doing so.
But enough about my droll fiancÃ. I saw Mr. Browne tonight. Rather, heard him. We were all required to wear masks, as masquerades entail, but he seemed to have found me. When I asked how he knew it was me, he said that he knew the most beautiful woman in all of Hogsmeade when he saw her, mask clad or no. I blushed at this and even giggled slightly. It was highly inappropriate for him to say such bold things to me. He was lucky that Mr. Marlowe was off fetching us punch and unable to hear it.
We danced again. It was magical, and my heart fluttered to my throat. He makes me feel things that I can not explain. He makes me further wish I was not promised to Mr. Marlowe. But wishes do not always come true, as I have learned in the most painful of ways. I know that I shall dream of Mr. Browne again tonight. It's inappropriate of me, to dream of lying in another man's arms, but all I have left are my dreams and I will not inhibit them for propriety's sake.
Last night was a New Year's ball. Without fail, Mr. Browne was there. I knew he would be. As always, we shared a dance together. Mr. Marlowe hated to let me, I could see in his eyes that he hated to see me - his property - in the arms of another man. But it was only cordial to allow it. We avoided the topic of my impending wedding. The wedding that is to take place next month, the day before I turn twenty-one. I dread the coming weeks. We have my wedding dress and the venue set. It will be a lovely wedding no doubt, but it will all be for show.
I know now what the feeling Mr. Browne invokes in me is: love. It seems so strange that I should fall in love with a man I barely know, when my heart has remained elusive to the man who has been chasing me since my fifth year at Hogwarts. But I know that it is love. I dream of him nearly every night. Dream of him caressing my body. Taking me in his strong arms and making love to me. It's not ladylike to admit the lust and love I feel for him, but as my thoughts are all I have now, I will not impede them. I will be true to myself for it is all I have left.
Laying my head down on my pillow every night is my most happy moment of the day, for I know that my love will soon follow in the beautiful dreams I have of us. Dreams of me becoming Mrs. Browne rather than Mrs. Marlowe. Dreams of being cherished rather than collected.
Rejoice! There is a God, and Caroline must have put in a good word for me. That is the only explanation I have for the events of today. It is the only way I can comprehend the miracle that befell me.
Mr. Browne visited my home today. My father sent me up to my room when he knew who was there. Mr. Marlowe had informed my father of him, as he noticed how we seemed to dance at every gathering we both attended. But I did not go to my room. I stood hidden just up the steps and heard the voices of my mother, father and Mr. Browne. He apologized for intruding, my love - ever so cordial. He addressed my father and mother. He said that he knew his next words were going to be highly unorthodox. That they may even seem foolish. My stomach fluttered; heart pounding in my chest.
Nothing could have prepared me for what he said next. He asked if he could court me. He said that he was aware I was to be wed in less than a month, but that he also knew that I was unhappy with the situation. He also said that Mr. Marlowe did not treasure me as I ought to be treasured. He vowed that he would treasure me as I should be. I couldn't contain my happiness. I ran down the steps and smiled broadly to Mr. Browne.
I had never been quite so bold in such a manner as I was in that moment. I said "please", my voice breathless. I told them that I did not love Mr. Marlowe and that he did not love me. But that I loved Mr. Browne. My father stared harshly at me for a moment, my mother looked shocked. I believe they did not think me capable of love. There was a heavy silence before my father nodded. He said he gave Mr. Browne his blessing and that he would inform Mr. Marlowe that he could not hand me over to him as his bride.
This is the happiest day of my life. I haven't felt so happy in a long time. If only Caroline were here to share this moment with me...but somehow I feel like she is here. In spirit.
It is my fourth year without Caroline. But I can't seem to feel as solemn about it as I have before. I write this in the morning, after my breakfast as I wait for Mr. Browne to pick me up for our Valentine's excursion. He says he has a surprise for me, and I wonder what it is. Mr. Marlowe was terribly let down when my father informed him that our engagement was off. He wrote to the Daily Prophet trying to slander my family name but ended up looking foolish. The repercussions of the article left little bearing on my family's name.
I still miss Caroline dearly. And sometimes I wonder if it isn't I who should be dead. But I've got the feeling that Caroline - wherever she is - bears me no ill will. In fact, I believe it is through some mysterious working on her part that I am experiencing the love I feel and being courted by the man I feel it toward. My big sister is watching out for me even after her death. She never was one to let something stop her from protecting me; I know now that not even death can stop her.
We have been courting for four months, Sampson and I. And as of today, I am officially on my way to becoming Mrs. Sampson Browne. We had a picnic with my parents out by the lake. It was a beautiful day, but I knew early on that something was on Sampson's mind. After lunch, he told my father that he had a very important question for him. My heart raced - surely it couldn't be. But it was so, and he asked my father to make him the happiest man and grant him the permission to make me Mrs. Browne.
I could tell my father was shocked. He honestly didn't think that after the fiasco with Mr. Marlowe that any man would want me. But Sampson does. I'm the happiest woman in all of the world. We are to be wed in a few months. With all the excitement, we've not yet set a date. I do not know if I can sleep tonight. I am too excited. I have found my soul mate, and the only thing that could make me happier were if Caroline were still here.
It has been five years today since Caroline died. I feel it more today than ever before, for I realize that she will not be able to be present at my wedding that is to take place next month. I wish I could have her standing by my side as I say my vows to Sampson. I believe she would like him. Perhaps she'd find him a bit droll, but he suits me and is good to me and I know Caroline would approve of him simply because he makes me happy. I wish I could hear her laughter; gossip with her about my love and perhaps a suitor of her own. But it is not to be, and on my most happiest day, my most treasured person will be absent.
We've picked out a new dress for my wedding. Mother said it wouldn't do to use the same dress we had for my engagement to Mr. Marlowe, though father doesn't understand why. So we sold the old dress and bought a new one. I much prefer the new one, but that is perhaps because I know I will be wearing it at Sampson's side rather than Mr. Marlowe's. It has a long train and large bustle; it is an off white silk with faint, slightly darker swriling patterns on it. It has a high neckline, all the way up to my chin with lace coming out of the top. Buttons run down the front and it is really quite lovely. It's the perfect dress and I'm sure I'll look beautiful in it.
I can not wait for the wedding, but perhaps it is the wedding night I am most anxious for. The dreams of making love with Sampson are more frequent, and while I'm bashful to admit it, I am most looking forward to when those dreams come true. I hear the first time is uncomfortable for women, but I have no doubt that Sampson will be gentle with me. I have no doubt, too, that despite any discomfort I will enjoy myself. The thought of feeling his skin against mine sends tingles to my womanhood.
For now I must sleep and usher in dreams of my beloved.
It's been exactly one year today since I've met Sampson. I am writing this in bed as Sampson sleeps beside me. As of today, I am officially Mrs. Sampson Browne. I could not be more thrilled. We are in our shared bed at our home in Bartonburg. The ceremony was held in the morning and after the celebrations we went to our home and spent the whole day together alone. The lust he felt for me must have been immense, because we were hardly able to wait to explore one another's bodies.
It was a bit nerve wracking, my heart pounded in my chest as he removed my wedding dress delicately. For the first time, I was self conscious of my looks. What if I was not beautiful enough for him? What if my body was not to his liking? What if my breasts were too large for him? I am a slender woman but I have ample bosom. Some would say I am disproportionate in that regard. But he didn't turn away in disgust when my nude form was revealed. Instead he told me that I was like a goddess. That I was ravishing. And he kissed me with so much passion that I nearly melted in his embrace.
I fumbled awkwardly to remove his clothing. It was to be expected, though, as I've never undressed a man before. I had never so much as kissed a boy before Sampson. But when he was nude along with me, my breath caught. I didn't think it possible for a man's body to be so marvelous and appealing to the eye. He is slender, no doubt, but beautiful in his own right. He the proceeded to lay me down gently on the bed. We explored one another's bodies with fervent hands and our lips. He touched me in ways that should have been embarrassing, but I could feel no shame in his embrace.
We made love after sufficiently learning one another's bodies. It was uncomfortable at first as he entered me, and I didn't feel much pleasure for which he apologized as he found his release within me. We waited an hour before trying again. That time it wasn't as bad, and I started to feel some pleasure. It was wonderful. Sharing myself with him completely was the most marvelous part of my existence.
I look forward to being his forever. To share my body with him with no shame. To make love to him and please him. The sighs and moans of his voice as we lay together are like music to my ears. Perhaps it's tawdry of me to write this down, but I care not. There is nothing more beautiful in the world than physically expressing one's love to another. But now I tire. I intend to snuggle close to my new husband and enjoy sweet dreams.
We spent the Christmas day with Sampson's family. I am quickly becoming accustomed to thinking of them as my own family. I think the matriarch of the Browne's likes me just fine, for which I am grateful. She is not Sampson's true mother, but her opinion of me does matter. I would hate for his family to find me displeasing. But as far as I can tell, they are all amiable toward me. I'm quite fond of Odira, she is a Ravenclaw just as I was. She's very bright and I enjoy the conversations we've had.
Sampson bought me a pet. A kneazle of black that I named Sir Cariad. Cariad is a name of Welsh origin that means love. I joked that he is our child, and I'm quite fond of him. He seems to be very intelligent and I'm quite taken with him. His hair is thick and long and pitch black, soft to the touch and his amber eyes hold a certain amount of wiseness to them. Since being gifted with him, he has remained dutifully at my side. As I lay in bed writing this, he is curled up on my lap. He's but a kitten still, but I imagine he'll grow to be rather large. I love him already and am most pleased that Sampson got him for me.
It is Valentine's day and my birthday. Sampson is at work, but I can not wait for him to get home. I bought a new night gown recently, and it's rather scanty. I hope to have a nice night of lovemaking with my husband. But I am sad as I spend my day alone in my home. Thoughts of Caroline plague my mind, but Sir Cariad is comforting me. I think he knows that I am sad, and he is the only one I've told of the circumstances of Caroline's death. He doesn't seem to judge me for it being my fault, but who knows if he even truly understands me. I think he understands my emotions, however, and he is doing everything he can to cheer me up.
In the two months since I got him, he's grown quite a bit. His hair gets fluffier by the day it seems, but he is still a most handsome kneazle. He likes to rub up against my legs and follow me around. I know he loves me and I'm glad that he's as taken with me as I am with him. Oh how horrid it would be to be incompatible with my pet! But we are very compatible. He knows my emotions and comforts me when Sampson can not. He's a great addition to the family, and I know that when Sampson and I begin to have children, that he'll be an excellent guardian.
My cycle is days late. I think I may be with child and the thought is both exhilarating and frightening. Exhilarating because I will be carrying Sampson's child and become a mother. Frightening because well...childbirth and pregnancy is no easy feat. And I do not even know that I will be a suitable mother. What if a child is born and I've no clue what to do with it? Sir Cariad is in my lap as I write this, no doubt his way of trying to sooth my nerves. What will I tell Sampson? Will he even want children this early in our marriage?
I am fearful of the prospect of becoming a mother. I am still young, after all. I fear I will not be a good mother. I wish Caroline were here, she'd know just what to say to me. She would tell me that I'm being ridiculous, that I've yet to fail at anything I put my mind to and that motherhood will be no different. She'd also tell me that I'd be the most beautiful pregnant woman in the world, swollen belly and all. She always knew what to say to calm my nerves, and I've no doubt that she would know what to say now.
It is official, I am with child. I told Sampson today after I visited the doctor. He seemed stunned, and I hope it was the good kind of stunned. He was at a loss for words, but I think he is pleased that I am carrying his child. Sir Cariad is still by my side at all times. He sat on my lap today and sniffed my belly. I think he understands that I am with child. He certainly seems like he does anyways, but it could all be a matter of coincidence. I'm still nervous about the thought of becoming a mother, but it's all very exciting as well. I'm already thinking of names! Oh how silly it is, I won't even know the gender until the babe is born. But it's nice to have some names prepared. I hope Sampson and I can agree on some of them.
There is the tiniest bump forming on my stomach. I hold that tiny bump every day, almost at all moments. With each passing day I become more and more confident that I can do this; that I can be a good mother to Sampson's child. My parents are thrilled at the prospect of having a grandchild. My mother keeps giving me tips on how to stay healthy during my pregnancy, and while she's a bit avid in her suggestions to me, I do take them to heart for I wish to birth a healthy child when the time comes. There are moments, however, when the pregnancy is not all magical. I feel ill sometimes in the mornings and I fear that I will lose my beauty through my pregnancy. What if Sampson becomes horrified by my body as I carry his child? He assures me that this will not be the case; that the swelling of my belly will not affect how he sees me. That the fact that I am carrying his child only makes me more radiant to him. I'm inclined to believe his words, too, even if they are but false reassurances.
My hand is heavy as I write this. I've been feeling unusual for the past week. I told myself that it was normal, that pregnancies came with their ups and downs. But what was wrong with me was even more horrid than I could imagine. I lost my baby yesterday. I started bleeding yesterday after a week of feeling terrible. I rushed myself to the hospital, Sampson was at work but I sent a quick owl that I was going to be at the hospital. They saw me quickly as they could, but by then the blood had stopped flowing. They inspected me and told me that I had miscarried. That my baby was inside my womb, dead.
As they worked to extract what was of my child, I wept openly. I was so excited to become a mother. I was finally confident that I could do it. But my child was stolen from me. I am still weeping even as I write of this event. Sir Cariad does all he can to comfort me, but even his soft purrs are no comfort. I am wounded. They say I will be able to conceive still, however. And that I should still be able to bear children. Thank whatever god there is for small miracles. But it is not so comforting as I lost the life that was growing inside of me. The life that Sampson and I had created with our love.
Sampson came to pick me up at the hospital hours later. They insisted on keeping me the night, however, and I've only just returned home this morning. I think that Sampson too wept for our lost child. I can only hope that Sir Cariad comforted him in the night while I was in the hospital being taken care of. I do not know how I will overcome this, but with Sampson's love I know that in time the wounds will heal, even if just so. We will heal one another with our love and never forget the child that could have been.
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