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 day had started off and - without an ounce of mercy toward him - had continued to be, absolute bullocks. From having his hot tea spilled into his lap first thing, to losing some paper work on a sporadic autumn breeze that had come out of no where to that very moment when he'd turn around the corner going from one hall to the next and had managed to nearly face plant himself straight into the bosom of Mrs.Pettybottom dress! Dear merlin, Lionel had never been so shamefully embarrassed or flustered and it seemed that no matter how many times he apologized profusely Mrs.Pettybottom did not see fit to forgive and forget. Surely she didn't actually think he of all people had intentionally planted his face in her cleavage to get an up close and personal look, did she? Really now, besides the fact he was without a doubt secretly interested in the stronger sex - he was also nearly half her age and her bosom hung down lower to her knees then where it should have been to actually attract any genuine attention!
Huffing indignantly, Lionel ran his fingers through his hair to brush it back and let out a long, hard sigh of surrender as the Witch stomped away still half muttering about the 'madness of youth, today'. Right, because with a hairstyle like that she had a right to pass judgement on insanity. Shaking his head in honest disbelief, Lionel Crabbe tossed a glance backward over his shoulder as the woman departed down the hall and begrudgingly sunk down toward the floor. In the midst of the collision his paperwork - what was left of it, before the wind had whisked it away all willy nilly - had exploded into the air like a shower off confetti and now lay a mess upon the carpet by his feet. He'd have to spend a few extra minutes reorganizing these files for his boss but thankfully the handsome dark blond lad was quite the organizer when he put his mind to it.
"I should have remained in bed." He mumbled, thinking that the crowd had dispersed and no one would be standing nearby to hear him. His stronger fingers slowly began to pat and slide the paperwork across the floor toward him and paused only when he felt another set of eyes starring down at his hunched over form. "There's no show here, it's over I give you my certainty to that." Lionel said, speaking a little louder as he rustled the paperwork into small divided piles and finally lifted his chin to briefly meet the male's eyes, glanced away and immediately did a double take backward into the house. "I.." Sweet Apolo, Lionel could feel his insides tighten and his mouth go dry as he met the handsome wizard's features. He was tall, thick in the shoulders and had a mean cutting jawline - everything that made Lionel his personal fault when it came to dersirng a man. "Bit of a clutz today I suppose."
I'd rather fight with you than make love with anyone else.
In a mere matter of days, Oxford Lovegood would be a married man. He was, surprisingly, looking forward to the celebration. The marriage itself was a sham, just a song and dance to razzmatazz everyone from seeing Jian Min and Oxford for their true selves. That was alright, though, because the pros mightily outweighed the cons. His siblings would be set for life, as far as social standing was concerned. Jian Min would be free to love other women with his utmost blessing. And, best of all, Oxford could relax. This marriage would be his ticket to peace. No one could question his sexuality while he was married, especially if he appeared to be happily so. That was the plan, to look happy and really be happy as they carried on living separate, secret lives. So, yes, he'd be living a lie, but he'd look damn good doing it. He would be looking exceptionally good at his wedding, he now knew.
Jian Min had remarkable taste and had picked out a formal robe set for him that was truly a sight to see. He would look smashing, even more so than at the fitting he'd gone to over lunch. Skipping lunch was something Ox did often, so he wouldn't miss the meal. He was too busy for silly things like lunch breaks. He had a wedding to prepare for, a life to plan, and, of course, there was always work, which was exceedingly tedious when one would rather be picking out a new pocketwatch to go with one's wedding robes. Normally, Ox loved work. He liked the black and white of it all. He liked helping the innocent and punishing the guilty. He liked the structure, the flow and grace of a trial. He could remember being very young, going with his father to the Ministry for the first time. His father had explained that, one day, Oxford would work there too, and that he'd be a very important wizard indeed. Well, Ox didn't know about all of that, but he did work here now, just like his father had said. Their little trip had included a stop at a trial, to sit in and see how the justice system worked. It was a learned experience û Oxford learned he wanted to do nothing else. The Wizengamot was where he belonged, and he was damned good at it, too. Why, he e-Ã
"Move, Lovegood. Out of the way. There's a row down the hall!"
Oxford's thoughts were interrupted by a colleague pushing past him to jog down the hallway. There, at the far end, a little crowd was gathered around a woman and a man. As far as Oxford could tell, the man had done something to offend the woman, and, as he grew near, she burst forth from the crowd to storm off. Oxford quickly side-stepped to let her pass. "Goodness," he commented to one of the steno-pool girls. "What's going on?"
"Oh, just Lionel, you know, being Lionel."
"A what?"
The girl didn't stop to explain. Everyone was supposed to be working, after all. Briefcase in hand, Oxford turned to continue back on his way. Yet, he turned only to freeze in place. Oh, he thought. That must be a Lionel. What Oxford saw first was a strong, stubbled jaw line. He eyes drifted upwards to a expertly sculpted nose, and higher still to a pair of ice blue eyes. Oxford was speechless. His fellow Interrogator walked past him, telling him to come on, that they'd missed the good part. "I'll be just behind you," he added airly, moving in the opposite direction towards the young man kneeling in the pile of mislaid papers. Upon closer inspection, Oxford decided he rather liked the other man's rather disheveled looking hair style. It suited him rather keenly.
"There's no show here, it's over I give you my certainty to that."
He smirked as the two of them made eye contact. "Do you, now?" Oxford replied with a tinge of humor in his voice. The guy had some fire in him. Ox liked playing with fire. When the young man did a double-take, Oxford felt his stomach jolt. Couldà No. No, that was silly. Look. Don't touch. This was work. He had to be careful here. Office romances were to be strictly avoided. What if he came on to someone and they turned out to not like his brand ofà Well, it would ruin him! It would spoil all he'd worked so hard for. No. Oxford reminded himself that all people at work were heterosexual. Period. It was safer to think that than to think about why the young man was gawking up at him.
"Bit of a clutz today I suppose."
Oxford stopped staring at the man and looked at the scattered papers. "Yes, I see." He sat his briefcase down and hiked up his pants leg, taking a knee alongside the other man. "Let me help you with that." Oxford started piling up the rogue papers while stealing glances at the fellow. He was painfully handsome. Oh, so painfully. Oxford wrestled with himself. Should heà Well, there'd be no harm inà But, then againà Oh, screw it. "I couldn't help but overhear your name. Lionel, is it? I'm Oxford. Oxford Lovegood. I'm down the hall, in the Interrogator offices. Do you work on this floor? I don't think I've seen you around before." Ox was fairly certain he would have noticed such an attractive example of male stock. Then again, he had been awfully busy playing straight, as of late. After a pause, he added coyly, "Did you really mean to bump into that woman?".
'Do you, now?' the ruggishly good looking male said with a sly and viciously attractive smile clinging to his lips. It made Lionel's mouth hang open like a frog waiting for a fly to just beeline straight into his mouth. Foolish idiot he was. Why couldn't he just stop gawking? "I. uh." Because the male had to be the most attractive wizard Lionel had ever laid eyes upon in his entire existence. Still, Lionel scowled internally at himself. say something!
"Oh, oh well...you needn't....my name?" Lionel stumbled over his words, hands shifting over top of the fly away papers as he shuffled them back into a tidy pile. "well if it pleases you." He mumbled, trying hard not to come across as overly bashful. "Thank you, for your help." Dammit, Lionel could feel the very tips of his ears pinking and quickly he cleared his throat as the last of the papers were gathered, rising so fast back up to his feet that he very nearly spilled the papers all over again - but didn't.
"Lionel Crabbe." He finally added in his full name, giving a rather charming smile as her glanced to the people casually passing by up and down the hallway. Instinctively timid about directly meeting Oxford's glance head on. "...No, no not this floor. I'm a clerk for the Magical Law Enforcement." He said, trying his very best to sound 'proud' of his employment though the somewhat earnest smile on his face did not manage to meet his eyes. "And No, he said quite stiffly, shooting a glance down the hall to where his 'victim' had huff and puffed off to. "I certainly did not. Why would I?" He shot a look back to Oxford, gathering what strength he could to defend himself from the very wealthy, regal and incredibly attractive male before him.
I'd rather fight with you than make love with anyone else.
Oxford knew better. Now was not the time to find a lad to fancy. He had things he needed to do, right now and otherwise. There were wedding plans to consult upon with Jian Min. Not to mention he was still attempting to figure out what to do on their honeymoon. After all, they weren't going to be sleeping together, which, he assumed, took up most of the time spent on a honeymoon. As he looked at the stuttering fellow next to him, he vaguely wondered if Ji would be opposed to taking lovers on their trip. He certainly wouldn't mind if she brought anyone.
"Well if it pleases you."
Ox tried hard not to laugh at the double unintentionally meaning, considering what he'd just been thinking about. "Crabbe. Law Enforcement Clerk. I'll have to remember that. Nice to make your acquaintance." He extended his hand, and then removed it when he saw how full Lionel's hands were with the papers they'd just picked up. "Could you use a hand with all that? I wouldn't want you assaulting anymore unsuspecting old biddies." Ox smirked. "Cm'on. I grab the lift for you." Ox led the way back down the hall, totally ignoring the fact that he was supposed to be in a briefing on new ghoul legislations. It didn't matter anyways; he'd read it all the night before. "So, Crabbeà I can't say that I have the pleasure of knowing your family. I've heard of them, of course. Nothing appalling, though; I assure you. Most of my family is still at school in Hogwarts. Though, my elder sister runs the Three Broomsticks pub in Hogsmeade, a little project our parents bestowed to keep her out of trouble. One of those; I'm sure you understand. Every family has one." As they reached the lift, Oxford realized he was nervously rambling. He never nervously rambled. "Listen to me, prattling on."
Lionel had been certain that, with the mess cleared away and the 'spectacle' ended, the handsome wizard would make himself scarce within a heartbeat. At least, that's what he had expected. His certainty, it seemed, was fallible though when Oxford seemed content on staying and assisting Lionel back to his floor with his bundles of paper in tow. For a second, Lionel simply forgot to breath. His breath held tight in the narrow cavity of his chest as he watched Oxford begin to turn and head away. All that lovely sun kissed hair moving about Oxford's head with the slightest wind caught motions, almost as though the tendrils had a secret life all their own - one that Lionel found himself curiously compelled to desire to comb his fingers through.
"Oh, well," Lionel sputtered, finding himself and his feet with a quick start to catch up to the male just barely ahead of him now. "I suppose four hands are better than my two." He said with a smile, for the first time seeming a touch more confident than he previously seemed - though there was a lingering glimmer of nerves still coasting the surface of his eyes. His own words inspiring others that he wanted to follow up with, sentiments such as - '..and two lips are better than one' or 'Two naked bodies, better than his lonesome one.' - of course, he didn't but Merlin had given him just barely enough self restraint not to.
"Ah, yes, I've heard of your family as well. The Lovegood's." He nodded in reply, idly shuffling the bulging stack of papers in his arms to a slightly, tidier mess as they walked along side by side. "I'm certain we travel similar social circles." He added in with a nod, trying terribly hard to not tense over at the mention of the Three Broomsticks. Sweet Merlin, Lionel had been there far too many times for his own good and though his discretion when it came to former lovers or interests had always been top notch - if there was ever anywhere someone might begin to suspect his sexual preferences it would be there. How many times had he had a touch too much to drink and just barely stopped himself from openly eying down a handsome, wizard?
Offering up a friendly smile to Oxford, Lionel tried not to think about the indecencies his mind was making of Mr.Lovegood's body or the fact the man was related to some of the few people in Hogsmeade that might have the slightest inkling of his sexual preference for the male gender. Instead, he focused on Oxford's kind mannerisms, the pleasantly husky tone of his natural voice and the company the wizard was temporarily offering - yes, temporarily, Lionel reminded himself. In the end, Oxford was a stranger, not an associate and the handsome man would leave back up to his own floor eventually. Leaving Lionel alone with his miserable heap of unsorted piles, his small cubicle desk and the memories of this brief acquaintance with the most sexually appealing man in Hogsmeade - no doubt.
"Oh I don't mind it." He caught himself saying in reply to Oxford's own comment about 'prattling' on. "I mean that is," Bullocks, Lionel chided himself. How should he explain not minding another man 'prattling' on as he was without seeming off putting? "...the company of course." Not entirely the best excuse ever but it was better than simply saying he liked the way the man spoke. "...You make for much better conversation than this mess of papers." He added in, stepping into the lift a little reluctantly and cleared his throat softly.
I'd rather fight with you than make love with anyone else.
Oxford wanted to smack his head against the wall. What was he doing? Why had he just told a total stranger about his family? Even Alice's oddness? What did this guy care? Ox felt disgusted with himself. First off, he wasn't supposed to flirt at work, period. Secondly, he didn't need to arouse any suspicion by gettingà well, aroused. And thirdly, he didn't know this guy from Adam; he didn't need to be so frank with someone he'd just met. Where were his manners? His formality? His Oxford-ness?! Oh, it really had been a long time since he'd done this û flirting. He was awful at it, actually. Nicolai, his only lover, had come on to him and he'd just went with it. He didn't have to flirt. Butà Nic was gone. Things wereà different.
"I'm certain we travel similar social circles."
Oxford hadn't known he was looking so melancholy until he smirked a bit at the handsome bloke's words. "I doubt that," he shot back. "Interrogators aren't exactly social butterflies." Oxford had his friends, but they were few and far in between. He'd lost many with the scandal and mystery surrounding his parents' death and even more when he'd refused to talk about their murderer with anyone. As it turned out, they weren't very friendly when the rumor mill ran dry.
"Oh I don't mind it."
Didn't mind what? Oxford had gotten lost in thought again. Ugh, this guy was bad for business. Ox was completely flustered and unfocused, which were two things he rarely was. "Come again?"
"I mean that is, ...the company of course."
"Oh." What the hell is he talking about?
"...You make for much better conversation than this mess of papers."
Oxford stood outside the lift a moment, readying a goodbye, but the slight cough from the other man made him pause. A split-second decision later and Oxford was in the lift, pushing the next floor's buttons û all of them. This had a tendency to utterly confuse the elevators, which were fairly new additions to the building. They were going to be stuck in here for a good five minutes. Oxford stood in front of the grates, facing Lionel. "Do I make you nervous," he asked with a smile he rarely used, a smile he hadn't used in at least three years. "Wait. Don't answer that. Answer this û why am I making you nervous?" He paused for a second and then steam-rolled on, taking a step towards Lionel. "I was in training to work in the Wizengamot for four years. I'm good at it. My father was good at it. His father was good at it. We are a naturally observant family. Most people take at least five, if not seven, years to master the subtle art of being able to read body language. It helps immensely in my field. What is just a turn of the head or a lick of the lips sometimes makes or breaks someone's story. So, I'll ask again." He took another step closer, bit his lip, and repeated. "Why do I make you nervous, Lionel?"
'I doubt that. Interrogators aren't exactly social butterflies.' - To this, Lionel couldn't help but feel the tips of his ears go pink as he fought off the blush. Of course they weren't! Interrogators were very intimidating people, they knew how to read people like words on a piece of parchment and very, very quickly Lionel was beginning to feel that sort of intense dissection for himself. What was going on? And why did Oxford seem so suddenly intent on closing in the proximity between them while asking him those..those questions?! And WHY had he pushed all those buttons?!
"Uhm that's not..my..." Lionel began to say, trying to inform Oxford for a moment that the first button had been the incorrect floor and then, well, the wizard had pressed all of them. "I..erm." Lionel Crabbe simply blinked and shuffled his feet anxiously. Most days he wouldn't have minded to terribly if he'd wound up stuck inside tight confines with a wizard as handsome - arousingly so- - but he was at work! This wizard was an interrogator and the last thing he needed was to be fired because he'd been found out!
"Nervous? Ha." Lionel coughed the words out, trying to sound confident though could not yet bear to meet Oxford's eyes head-on for longer than a few seconds at a time. "I'm...not sure what you're getting at Mr.Lovegood." Crabbe mumbled, quickly glancing at the floor buttons hoping quietly that maybe they'd wind up on his floor first anyways and that he'd be able to make a quick escape before finding himself in even more trouble.
Straightening his spine to try and stand tall, or seemingly unphased by the close growing proximity of their bodies as Lovegood devoured the space between them, Lionel mustered up enough gusto to meet Lovegood square in the eyes and felt his mouth go hot and dry with desire. Like a desert man lost without water for days, Lionel felt parched and knew as his throat (...and the front of his pants) went tight that Lovegood was the only thing that would be able to sate his need anytime soon.
Unable to help himself, Lionel found his eyes dropping a little down along the side of Oxford's throat. The man was simply made to be desired. Broad shouldered, creamy skin and a set of lips that demanded the type of attention Lionel desperately wanted to serve up - hot, hungry and deliciously steamy. Sweeping his eyes away off to the side, Lionel glanced at the buttons again and found to his dismay they still hadn't move any floors.
"...I think you confuse nervousness with simple," Lust? Carnivorous desire? Wanton fantasy? "social anxiety - I'm this way with most everyone new I meet." Lie, in fact Lionel couldn't remember the last time he was this nervous around anyone. The fact he kept picturing the man naked, disheveled and pink cheeked from love making was not helping him seem so convincing.
I'd rather fight with you than make love with anyone else.
Oxford really did enjoy his job. He liked punishing bad guys and saving good guys and helping the people in the middle resolve their issues. He vaguely supposed that one day he might try for Minister of Magic. Now that he was going to be married, it wouldn't be so terrible for the press to snoop on him. Gay lovers were easily explained away as close friends when you were married. Honestly, though, Ox wasn't looking. The last lover he'd had killed his parents, so, really, he was sexually starved but not in any rush to find a replacement. He hadn't expected to find himself back some poor guy against an elevator wall. Oxford refrained from taking the last step and closing the gap between them; he knew better. This was work, after all. Yet, that didn't mean it wouldn't be unbearably sexy.
"I'm...not sure what you're getting at Mr.Lovegood."
"Oh?" Oxford tried to keep his expression level with a hint of curiosity. Though that was hard since he was spending most of his energy not eating Lionel's face.
"...I think you confuse nervousness with simpleà social anxiety - I'm this way with most everyone new I meet."
Oxford raised an eyebrow. An Interrogator? Confusing signals? Jesus, Lionel was so damn cute Oxford wanted to just hug him. Though, that probably would have been seen as more homosexual an act than just kissing him stupid. Shrugged, Oxford withdrew, kneeing the lift just under the button panel and the punching the hell out of Lionel's floor button. The lift immediately started to move in the correct direction. "Well," he began coolly. "My mistake." It was a short ride and Oxford opened the life doors for Lionel, ushering him through. As he left the life, Oxford stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. "Nicholas Flamel, the alchemist, has moved back into town and hosts simple gatherings of society gentleman at his home frequently. Come to the next one; they're ever so droll." He let go of Lionel's shoulder and stood straight and proper and removed all expression from his face like the well-bred pureblooded upper class fellow he was. "Very enjoying making your acquaintance, Lionel Crabbe. We just get stuck in lifts together more often."
For one painfully arousing moment, Lionel had very nearly believe the man had been set in the mind to lunge forward and kiss him...but that simply couldn't have been possible. As hungry for a bit of affection, a long stroking caress and a roll between the sheets as he was - Oxford was an extremely handsome, well off and impressively employed wizard. What on earth would a man like that actually desire with a law clerk?
Blinking at his own words, Lionel tried horribly to hide the wealth of heath that threatened to bloom along his cheeks in a blush when he realized what he'd just done. Honestly, Lionel! He scolded himself internally, Since when does an Interrogator confuse anything?! Sweet Merlin he must have sounded like the most arrogant, ignorant arsehole if there ever was one.
"I mean, I certainly didn't want to offend..." He mumbled only a moment to late, his voice and apology lost beneath the clamor of Oxford's attempts at spurring the lift back to life. A fact that, once it had started up again, Lionel felt the slightest pang of disappointment register inside of his heart...and his loins. He'd be off the elevator shortly, back at his desk and out of the presence of the wondrously handsome wizard any moment - a future that Lionel could not openly say he looked forward too, the absence of Oxford's wolfish smile the worst of it all.
"Not at all." Lionel nodded as the door re-opened and he leveled his chin in attempt to seem anything but disappointed that the moment was past. Clenching down on his teeth as he walked past Oxford to make his exit and stopped himself from trying to apologize for the offense he may have made toward the Interrogator's employment skills. "...do have a..." He began to say but fell quickly short as the strong, firm hand landed on his shoulder. The man had a paralyzing touch, that much was certain and for all he tried to deny it, every part of his body had stopped cold except one - and that part in specific seemed suddenly spurred to life by every warm drop of blood rushing down between his legs...
"Nicholas Flamel?" Lionel's one eyebrow propped up in interest as he glanced back behind his shoulder, too horribly self conscious to turn back around and face him. "...I suppose I might." He muttered under his breath, trying to decide amongst his own thoughts whether Oxford was being 'polite' but insincere with his invitation or completely genuine. "...Horribly droll is, after all, the story of my life." He couldn't help but smirk dashingly back at Oxford over his shoulder. His eyes fighting the urge not to soak in one last long glance of the mans body as the door began to close. One warm breath huffing out from between his lips as he stepped forward without looking and walked straight into another of the law clerks on his floor with a loud, unmistakable 'Ooomph' and sound of falling papers as they hit the floor in chaos....again.
I'd rather fight with you than make love with anyone else.
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