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.
Her sixth year had arrived too quickly. It felt as though she went to bed an anxious first year and woke up as an experienced sixth year. All the spells she crammed in, the knowledge of herbs-of potions-the lessons, seemed as though they just appeared in her mind, as though the past five years hadn't happened.
Settling herself on her stool in the drafty potion's classroom, Maggie expertly eyed the room for Tiberius Lestrange-the object of her affections. For years (three to be exact) she done herself looking for opportunities to even say good morning to him. Their conversations hardly ever breached upon any type of serious conversation, nevertheless Maggie's day was brightened when he nodded his greeting.
Unable to focus on anything other than the doorway, Magdelena opened her book to the most recent chapter and pretended to be rereading the pages their assignment had been based on. Several of her friends settled in beside her, silently agreeing to the need of silence. Perhaps today he'd say hello to her first, or maybe even request to sit in the empty stool besides her. Perhaps today he'd notice her.
Tiberius slipped into the class without much ado; most of the other students arrived in groups, talking and chatting amoungst themselves, but he had no need for such things. Nothing that these people had to say had any value to him. He knew. He could see their thoughts.
Well, he couldn't really see their thoughts, but he was working on it. Taking a quick glance around the classroom, Tiberius sat down in exactly the same spot that he always did--an unobtrusive one nearer the back of the class, where he could absorb himself in his own private studies and not in the class lecture, without being bothered by the teacher, much, or by obnoxious fellow schoolmates.
He pulled out the small black book he'd been carrying around incessantly since the beginning of the year--A Pocket Guide To Leglimency. He'd read it five times over at this point, but he looked through it practically every class, reviewing his notes, making more notes. Trying things out. It was probably time to try it out again. The hardest part about practicing, he had realized, was finding someone with whom he could lock eyes with and not have them look away immediately.
Tiberius looked up from his little journal and took a glance around the room, trying to see whom was looking most in his direction, and was surprised to see someone looking directly at him. Davis. A Ravenclaw prefect. Well, she would do--he held her gaze and hoped she wouldn't break it, and started attempting to peal back the layers of her mind. What are you thinking about, Miss Davis?
Tiberius' appearance sent Maggie's nerves as she tried-and failed- to pull her gaze from his position. He was always so distant and cold towards everyone, surely he knew that being alone in life was a bore? And not only that, but being alone nearly all the time had to get depressing. What was with anyway? Did he hold himself above everyone else?
Magdelena's friend spoke loudly about the latest edition of the Daily Prophet. Some upperclass man had left all his fortune to a groomsmen and made off with his younger sister, so not only was the gossiping town shouting cries of scandal, but also cries of incest. 'Tsk, tsk, tsk.' Maggie thought, 'If you want to commit a crime, you ought to be discreet about it.'á
The professor then walked into the classroom, his purple robes billowing behind him as he stalked through the rows intimidatingly. Everyone knew he was perhaps one of the easier professors to get, rarely any heavy assignments, not a lot of notes to take during class. One simply had to do well on the assessments and succeed in completely the classwork and their grade would be outstanding.á
Again, Maggie found herself looking at Tiberius. 'Enough.' She thought sadly, 'He's never going to like you back.'
Not surprisingly, the first thing that came to mind was the typical sort of things--easy professor. What had occurred to her was also the only thing forefront in Tiberius' mind, as was the case most often. The little pocket Leglimency book said that this was normal for beginners, but so far he had had no luck with being able to hold his own thoughts in mind while perusing someone else's; which meant that looking for anything in someone else's head was nearly impossible. Still, since he was only just beginning, relatively speaking, at least, he had plenty of time to figure it out.
Go deeper, he told himself, and he bit the inside of his lower lip as his concentration narrowed. There had to be more in that pretty little head besides just thoughts of class.
Her eyes met his more directly and Tiberius heard one thought resound through him; things were always more intense with more direct eye contact, but this was a first, hearing something this clearly and distinctly. Enough, he's never going to like you back.
Tiberius blinked in surprise, which broke his concentration. What had he just overheard? What did she mean by that? She hadn't looked away yet, and he immediately dove back into his Leglimency attempts--and now that he knew what he was looking for, it proved surprisingly more efficient. A rush of thoughts opened up to him--not clear ones, for they weren't currently in her head, most likely, but emotions, feelings, memories, desires. A vague rush of warmth.
It was true, then. She wanted him. In the romantic sense. That had never happened to Tiberius before, at least not that he was aware of.
How curious.
He sat back in his chair a bit, still looking at Magdelena, this time with curiosity and without any attempt to get into her head. He didn't care if she saw him looking; this was a new experience for him, being the object of someone's affections and being aware of it, and he needed to think about it. Why did she like him? When had it started? What did she want? Was she going to do anything about it? All of these questions he could have answered by trying to get into her head again, but he didn't want to rush things. She was his yearmate, after all, and another prefect--they would be seeing each other often enough that he didn't need to draw any unwarranted attention to himself.
The biggest question, of course, was one that he wouldn't find an answer to in her thoughts--what do I do now?
Their eerie eye connection was beginning to make Magdelena feel uneasy. It was almost as though he was ... doing something; she wasn't quite sure what exactly he was doing, all she knew was that she did not like it. She didn't like it at all.
Too uncomfortable with the weight of his stare, she turned back towards her open book and began reading the page. The words jumbled around on the paper in front of her. How could one person make her feel this flustered? Granted, Tiberius was in a category all of his own, but still. He was dangerous. Danger, danger, danger. That's all he was.
She had always loved danger.
The class passed all too slowly. The entire time Maggie fought the urge to look up at him. His eyes-they were so intense, too intense. As though he was trying to get inside her head or something. Sighing, she grabbed her stack of books and walked slowly out of the room-noting that Tiberius had already left.
He had continued to look at her for the entire class--unusual for him, to say the least. For the most part, Tiberius Lestrange didn't acknowledge people--even those who went out of their way to talk to him were lucky to get a nod or smirk in response. It was unusual for him to look at anyone else during class, much less to stare, but this Miss Davis had him intrigued and curious. This was something he had never encountered before.
He wanted to get back into her head, but she didn't look across at him again, probably on purpose if she had noticed him staring. Did she know what he'd done? Probably not; there were not many budding Leglimens in Hogwarts, and Maggie Davis had never struck him as the type to be interested in such things, but she was interested in him.
When class let out he left quickly--he hadn't opened his textbook, so sweeping it into his bag was quite easy--and was in the hall before a thought occurred to him. If he waited a minute, he could talk to her. And say what, he didn't know, but for some reason, the idea appealed to him. So, not knowing what he planned to say, he lingered in the hallway, until finally, she appeared at the door.
"Miss Davis," he called out to her softly, to get her attention, and really not knowing what he was planning to follow that with.
With her book clutched tightly to her chest, Maggie turned to face the owner of the voice which had called out to her. She knew without a moment's hesitation that it was Tiberius. Hadn't she spent the past year boding over every word he said to her? Hadn't she suffered numerous nights of restlessness as she further realized he'd never notice her? And now, he finally called out to her.
"Mister Lestrange." She replied coolly. Her skin was aflame, her heart was beating like a humming bird's wings, and Maggie wished the flush in her cheeks would fade. "Do you need something?"
'Stupid, stupid, stupid.' She chided herself. Does he need something, what kind of idiotic question was that? He probably wanted to swap watches. She did it all the time with the other Ravenclaw prefects, it was the only logical answer she could come up with. Why else would he wait for her outside their class?
Tiberius examined the girl as she turned to him, trying to keep his interested as scientific as possible. This wasn't what he would have expected from a girl approaching her crush. Of course, he had no first hand experience, but didn't things in stories typically go a bit differently? A flush on her cheeks, tripping over her words, something? He had never noticed anything like that in the past, and her words now were cool and collected.
He regarded her, curiously. "No, I suppose not," he finally said, because really, what was he doing? What did he need? Absolutely nothing.
This couldn't, however, be the end of their conversation. She was presenting too interesting of an issue for him to let it slide this easily. "I only wondered--" he started, not sure where he was going. "That is, I've next period free--I wondered if you might be interested in an early lunch?" It was a bit desperate, but he couldn't think of another thing to make her stay.
"Oh...uh...yeah I uh... I don't have class this hour. Lunch sounds lovely." The second he spoke of doing anything other than what she had convinced herself of, her level of coolness flew out the window. Tiberius wanted to accompany her, to lunch. He wanted to spend time with her. Since when did he want to spend time with her, he was known for being reclusive. "Lunch sounds perfect."
She could feel her cheeks heating up softly as they walked side by side to the great hall. Her hand itched to latch onto his, and she couldn't stop the faint smile from spreading across her cheeks. She vaguely wondered if he was feeling the same way. Or was this all a joke to him?
He could sense the surprise in her voice, and he honestly couldn't blame her. Tiberius generally took his lunch early--but that was because he wanted to be able to avoid everyone and spend his entire lunch hour in study, either in the library or in his room, not because he desired even the slightest level of intimate conversation with someone. Tiberius didn't really have friends, much less girls.
Yet here he was, inviting some random girl to eat with him, just because he had happened to glimpse her thoughts and had seen something of interest there. This was not how normal people went about it, but it was close enough; realize that someone has a thing for you, offer them some sort of encouragement, spend time with them. He was following the pattern, he realized, even if he had no intention of doing so.
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