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.
Sometimes, Harry really wished he was older. Not because he was at all eager to get out into the world and do things like court folk or get married or have children or have a job. He didn't want to be much older. Sometimes, though, he really wished that he were just past his NEWTs, so that he didn't have to keep going to all of the classes that he already knew he had no desire to continue. Like Earth Magic--that had been a serious mistake--or Potions, though if his sister was really serious about her plan to start a potion shop, he'd have to keep up with the class, despite how much he despised it.
He'd been putting off his homework for half a week now, and he'd finally sat down and done most of it. What he had left was an essay for History of Magic and another for Herbology (gross). The Herbology essay was due in a day and a half, so it took priority over the one due at the end of the week. If he finished the Herbology essay today and the History of Magic one tomorrow, he'd have Friday and Saturday free for extra Quidditch practice, so he was determined to do that. Except that he'd been sitting in the library for about half an hour now, and all he'd accomplished was that he had written half a paragraph and had learned how to flip his quill back and forth across his knuckles.
Which was why he was quite easily distracted when he saw something move outside the window. Rising and moving over to the glass with curiosity, he peered outside, but didn't see anything unusual. Still, he knew he'd see something a moment ago. Looking around the library briefly to make sure there were no lurking librarians to scold him, he pushed the window open and looked about to see if there was enough of a roof to walk on. Homework could wait.
Tag: Open (code: secret)
Notes: thread occurs on September 27th, 1880. Harry is a fourth year.
Let it never be said that Mariella Cary was a cowardly girl. Not that one would typically accuse a Gryffindor of embodying such a trait, but the situation she was in now would surely make it impossible for anyone to ever imply such a thing about her. There were several reasons for this, but it all boiled down to one simple fact: the girl was willingly entering a situation that could not only kill her but also get her into very much trouble. It had been a few weeks since she had started her first year at the magical school of Hogwarts, though she couldn't say she was all that surprised to have gotten her letter. Though she grew up in the muggle world, she had always been finely attuned to the magical and whimsical things of the world. She'd always believed in magic and fairies and other such things that muggles would say didn't exist. Plus, the letter did explain the mishaps she was prone to getting herself in to.
So when the nearly twelve year old started her first term, she didn't feel the anxiety that most muggleborns would. For she was sure that it was here that she fit in the most. Though some scorned her for being a mudblood as they said, she happily ignored them and continued on about her life. She paid no heed to the mean words she had gotten not only for her impure blood but also for her odd looks. She was used to it and as such she had found herself spending ample time alone in the vast library. While she wasn't necessarily the scholarly type, it was a quiet place for her to make her art and the vast windows were very lovely to sit by. And whilst she was looking out the window and imploring the world for inspiration, she saw a large bird land on the roof just down the way. That was what had prompted her into action and landed her in her current situation of walking across the roof and towards the bird.
Normally, she wouldn't bother it. Though she had an affinity for animals, she didn't find it necessary to interrupt a wild ones life at every turn. But the way it had landed was rough and she saw a stain of red on its white feathers. She knew that it was injured and from the looks of it would need help so she had done what she thought would only be the proper thing to do: she opened the window and held up her skirts as she climbed out onto the roof. She was sure many would think her a mad girl. She was a skinny little thing of short stature and very doll-like features that looked like she could be carried off by even the slightest wind. And walking on roofs wasn't advised for anyone, let alone a fragile looking creature like herself. But she didn't care. In her mind, the animal was injured and it was only logical that she should go to help it.
Of course, it hadn't occurred to her that she was likely to get in trouble. For she didn't have enough knowledge of magic to heal it by herself and if she took it to a professor they'd definitely scold her for multiple reasons. But she didn't think of that and continued to approach the bird slowly so as not to frighten it. Because surely if it didn't get attention to its injuries it would only bleed out. She was nearly to the creature when she heard the clambering of another person coming out onto the roof behind her. She turned around slightly and looked at the boy who was obviously older than herself. She couldn't think of why he would be on the roof and she expressed as much as her soft Irish brogue was heard: "What brings you on to the roof?" with an inquisitive sort of look on her dainty features.
Harrison had only to lean out a bit farther along the edge of the windowsill to catch sight of the girl. It must have been her that he had seen go by the window, though based on her position he likely would have only been able to see the top of her head as it went bobbing by. She was completely unfamiliar to him, and she looked quite young, so she might have been a first year, or just a quiet second year whom he hadn't taken much notice to.
Having answered the question of what did I just see on the roof, however, only brought up further questions, namely, what a first or second year girl was doing on the roof. He was more than a little surprised to be asked the same question by her that he had just been asking in his head, and his eyebrows raised. He wasn't even properly on the roof, yet, anyway; he was just standing in the windowsill.
"I could ask you the same question!" he called back at her, a little defensively. "You better be careful--boots and skirts like that, you could fall and die out there." Which probably wasn't the best thing to say, but to Harry that was just a statement of fact. He knew all about what girls were expected to wear, because he heard Galatea and Hardin complain about them all the time, about how uncomfortable and unpractical they were. He certainly wouldn't climb around a rooftop with a corset, skirts, and boots on, and he was a Quidditch player, and therefore likely had much better balance than the little redhead.
Deciding that she needed saving--or that she would need saving sooner or later--Harry climbed out of the window and onto the roof, glancing back over his shoulder again to make sure that no one was going to panic and think that he'd fallen to his doom. After having been satisfied with that, he turned back to the girl and asked plainly, "Now, what are you doing out here?"
Tag: Mariella (+open?)
Notes: thread occurs on September 27th, 1880. Harry is a fourth year.
Her only response to him was a smile. "Oh no, I'm sure I'll be fine. I have been walking for years in such garments, after all." She said it matter of factly and then turned her gaze back to the bird. "I'm on a mission." She spoke as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. "This bird needs help and if I ignore him then he's sure to die." She said it as she looked back at him. Nothing in her tone indicated that she felt any shame or coyness about her actions like a proper young lady likely would. If anything her tone held a subtly hint of pride that she was going to be the savior of another living creature. To her, there was nothing at all strange about that. She had played savior to plenty of animals in her life and so it was only second nature for her to try and assist a creature in pain.
The bird seemed to be having a bit of a fuss and she looked back to it and inched further just slightly, causing it to flinch. She said some soothing words to it and stood still so that it would know she meant it no harm. People had often said that her connection to animals was magical. Though she certainly couldn't speak to the animals, she had a way with them. Even inherently reclusive animals seemed to trust her if she should approach them. As such, she was known to help out with the animal doctor that lived in her town in Ireland. Of course, it was menial tasks - like handling and soothing the animals - but she had gotten to be quite well known for her ability to appeal to animals. This was a trait of herself that she would pride herself on if she had any real sense of pride.
Looking back to him again, she spoke, "You wouldn't happen to know of who I should take him to for healing, would you? I would gander the school nurse, but you never know." The last sentence was added as an afterthought as though it wasn't a very important sentiment. Her mossy green eyes lingered on him for a moment longer before she turned back to slowly approaching the bird. While she certainly didn't wish to be rude to this boy, she wasn't about to forget about the animal in need. When she set her sights on doing something she would accomplish it, and saving this animal was no different than anything else she could set her sights on. Even if it took her all evening, she was determined to get that bird some help.
Harrison didn't think that was a very good excuse at all. She may have been walking around her whole life dressed like that, but not on slanted roofs that were quite possibly covered in dew and were most certainly several stories above the ground. He wasn't convinced that she was quite as safe as she thought she was, in any case.
He also really didn't understand what she was going on about the bird for. He was taking Care of Magical Creatures, but only because it had sounded like a relatively easy and possibly exciting class, not because of any abject love of animals. They were alright, he supposed. He'd heard a story once that the gargoyles on the roofs of Hogwarts caught flyby birds, and particularly small owls, and ate them. While several people had been horrified by this, Harry rather thought that if he had to choose between gargoyles and birds, he would probably side with the gargoyles.
Still, if it was important enough to her to risk her life over, he supposed the least he could do was humor her. "Madam Black? I wouldn't. She'd laugh at you and use the bird for stew," he said. He might have been exaggerating, but Ms. Black didn't have a reputation for being the nicest of people when you bothered her with things she didn't think were her business. "If anyone I'd take it to the Care of Magical Creatures professor," he offered, keeping an eye on her to make sure she wasn't about to tumble down the slope of the roof. "Though I'm not sure what he'd do for it if it can't fly."
Tag: Mariella
Notes: thread occurs on September 27th, 1880. Harry is a fourth year.
When he advised against taking the bird to the nurse, she whipped around quickly as she could manage with her brows drawn together in a look that made her delicate features look as angry as she could manage. It wasn't very much. Her china doll looks made it very hard for her to express anger through her features, but if you looked hard enough you could tell it was there. "What?" It was an exclamation of disbelief rather than a question. "Why would she be a nurse if she had no interest in healing those that are hurt?" It seemed utterly ridiculous to her! Even if they typically healed humans, one would guess that they would extend the same generosity to an animal. After all, animals needed help more than humans did. They weren't able to bandage themselves if they ended up getting themselves hurt. Therefore if anyone was the type of person to want to heal others, it seemed only natural that they'd want to heal animals as well. After all, one wouldn't just leave their baby to deal with an injury on their own, would they? To her it was the same basic concept: the helpless should be helped.
Realizing that she could have scared the animal away, she turned back around. It was a few steps further away than it had been, but thankfully it hadn't tried to fly away. She gave a sigh of relief and turned back to the boy. "I'm sure the professor can take care of it. We do have magic, don't we? It should be just fine if only I can get him to trust me." She looked back over her shoulder to the bird. "I think he's frightened, poor thing. Hurting and not being able to do a thing about it." Her voice conveyed how genuine she was in her conviction to help the animal. She wasn't the type that could deny any creature help if it needed it. The only situation in which she'd refuse to help someone in need would be if they were horrible, dangerous and evil people who didn't deserve it. And since she had yet to meet such a person, she doubted very highly that she'd ever have to deny anyone help. Again she gave the bird a look. She was trying to keep focused on rescuing it while also trying not to be rude to the boy.
Turning around she took a few more steps towards the bird. She was so close! She again said some comforting words. She knew it couldn't understand her per se, but she wholly believed that animals could sense the tones and a person's intentions to them. So she tried her hardest to make it apparent that she wished only to help it. It took a step further away from her anyways and she stopped approaching it and decided to take the time again to regard the boy. "You know, I'm not sure who that professor is..." She trailed off. "I've only just started my first year." She didn't seem at all shy about that fact like most first years seemed to be. There was no shame in being younger than the others, after all. "I'd be very much obliged if you could tell me where to find this professor." She decided that was enough on the subject. She had to try and get that bird before it attempted to fly off.
Harry only shrugged when she asked about the nurse. He tried to avoid the hospital wing unless he was injured, and even then, he usually wanted to spend as little time there as humanly possible, so he didn't really know the nurse that well. He'd been tended to once or twice, and he knew the rumors the other kids told about her, but he couldn't really say what her opinions on birds were. "They don't pay her to fix birds," he offered, unsure what else he could say.
She seemed determined to keep walking and keep getting closer to the edge. Apparently she really wanted to fall off the roof. "Hey, listen here--you promise to get off the roof and I'll take you to see whatever professor you want," he said, walking down towards her. If he needed to, he'd throw her over his shoulder and carry her off the roof, though he doubted his professors would like that much.
Tag: Mariella
Notes: thread occurs on September 27th, 1880. Harry is a fourth year.
"They pay her to heal those at Hogwarts that get hurt. He is at Hogwarts and he is hurt. Therefore he has just as much a right to be healed by her as you or I would." She interjected hastily, giving him a look that clearly stated she would not be swayed. And she wouldn't. It was ridiculous how people thought themselves too good to help animals. As the superior race of the planet, it was their duty to protect those that were less capable than them. But perhaps Mariella was just an idealist. It all seemed rather simple to her as most things did. She didn't quite understand why everyone seemed to make things so much more difficult than they ought to be. This fact is probably why people found her to be a bit odd. She was fairly popular regardless, but people did find her to be a bit different.
Her attention went back to the bird before he even started his next sentence. Of course, if she had bothered to look at him, the events that were to follow probably wouldn't have played out quite as they did. As it was, however, she hadn't given him any regard and hadn't noticed that with his next statement he made a move towards her. That set the bird off on an unsteady flight and without even thinking Mariella made a hurried attempt after it. It wasn't that she thought it was a good idea to go after it, or even that she was so insistent upon saving it that she'd risk her life. It was purely instinctual. They may not have been the best instincts but they were hers and she was so used to going along with them with abandon that when the bird flew away she hadn't even had time to fully register what was happening before she was off on a mad dash.
It was more like a short burst sprint, however, as only two bounds in her foot touched down to a particularly icy patch on the roof and sent her teetering off to the side. She'd tried to keep balance, but there was nothing to grab on to and her arms flailed in an instinctual gesture to find something to grab on to. Everything felt like it was going in slow motion. The bird flying away, her legs propelling her forward, that instant of uneasiness when she just knew that she'd stepped onto ice and was slipping, when her feet were no longer grounded and the inevitable moment when she felt her stomach do flips as her body went soaring into the open winter sky. And all the while all she could think was that she had worn those blasted boots with no traction on the bottom.
As soon as she turned, Harry knew what was going to happen. He wasn't sure if he saw the icy patch or only expected it, but his hand was already reaching for his wand as her foot slipped out from under her. "Wingardium Leviosa!" he called with a swish of his wand, which was enough to stop her from completely tumbling over the edge, hovering instead in the air near the edge of the roof.
Guiding the girl with his wand, he slowly brought her back towards a less steep and less icy patch of the roof. The farther from danger she got, the more it occurred to him that he had just saved a girl's life and that was kind of a big deal. He finally stopped the spell when she was quite near him, letting her down on the roof and glancing over to make sure the damn bird was gone.
"Deal's off," he said with a frown. "You didn't get off the roof, I'm not taking you to any professors. I'm just taking you back inside," he said, grabbing her arm just above the wrist as he repocketed his wand and started heading back towards his open window.
Tag: Mariella
Notes: thread occurs on September 27th, 1880. Harry is a fourth year.
In the time she went careening off the edge, Mariella somehow managed to think on the fact that she wouldn't likely live through this fall. There wasn't much elaboration on the thought, just that brief moment where you just knew that what was in your line of vision was the last thing you'd see. At least it was a beautiful sight of the winter sky. That fact brought her some comfort as she attempted to prepare herself for the impact. She hoped it wouldn't hurt too terribly bad. But it never came and her vision never expanded as it would have if she had continued to fall. She wondered if maybe she had already hit the ground and this was some limbo before she moved on, but when she heard the boys voice and felt her body being pulled by something invisible back towards the roof she knew that she wasn't dead at all. He had saved her.
The whole ordeal felt like this odd mix of forever and an instant. On one hand, her mind had been racing and many thoughts had occurred to her, but on the other, it was all so quick. Not more than two minutes could have passed since she hit the bit of ice on the roof. When she was situated on her feet once more - away from any ice - he grabbed her wrist and tugged her towards the window, all the while saying that the deal was off. This statement was odd to her for multiple reasons. One: they hadn't made a deal per se. Two: it was a moot point even if they had, and she said as much as she climbed back into the window. "Well it's not as though it matters any. The bird is long gone by now." Her tone didn't suggest that she had just had a near death experience. It was slightly breathy, however, as though she'd been running. So it wasn't as though she were completely unaffected by her experience.
When she was in the window she straightened out her skirts and looked at him. With a sound of relief, she looked at him and smiled, "That was quick thinking there. I rather think I'd have died from the fall if you hadn't been there to save me." She didn't bother to bring up the fact that if he hadn't scared the bird she probably wouldn't have fallen because it wasn't his fault that he had some misguided notion of her needing protection. She was used to people thinking that they needed to protect and save her. When you looked like a girl's favorite doll (albeit oddly colored, with her vibrant hair), it was hard not to think of her as fragile and innocent. That was a big part of why her bravery and thirst for adventure were thought especially odd. Little girls weren't supposed to be as daring as she. Especially when their appearance was so dainty and doll like.
Her mossy green eyes were still trained on him when she quirked her head ever so slightly to the side and spoke again. "Well I should know who to thank for keeping me out of death's embrace." She took a brief pause before introducing herself, "I'm Mariella." She gave a brief wave and a subtle curtsy before going on. "Are all spells that quick to cast once you've had practice?" She wondered. She hadn't yet had a whole bunch of experience with spellwork and wondered if spells that one learned were just quick to take effect or if he was a particularly skilled wizard.
Harrison rolled his eyes as she started talking again, almost as soon as they were inside. He was starting to think that this girl would never stop talking, and she was still going on about the bird! It had flown away, it was clearly fine!
Since he already felt like she was being a little ingrateful for the fact that he had just kind of saved her from falling off of the roof, he was not predisposed to call her by her first name. The only girl he called by first name was his sister. Even the girls on the Quidditch team, whom he left off the "Miss" on, were still last names--Galatea, van Helsing, Hardin. As such, he merely raised an eyebrow at her introduction. "Mr. Harrison Primpernelle," he said, "And you get faster at them--I've got pretty good reflexes, I guess. I play Quidditch."
Pausing a second, he looked her over a bit suspiciously. "You need to go to the hospital wing or anything? Miss?" He'd wanted to call her something, and what came to mind--crazy redhead--was not appropriate, but he hardly would call her Mariella, and he didn't know her last name, so Miss it would have to be. She didn't look hurt, but she had fallen off a roof, and then he'd basically dragged her inside, so it was possible.
Tag: Mariella
Notes: thread occurs on September 27th, 1880. Harry is a fourth year.
Mariella gave a very slight chuckle. She was pretty good at reading people and it was seeming obvious that she was a bit of a shock to him. She forgot that she was in a much more proper place now than her village that she lived in. In Daingean Uà Ch·is, everyone knew one another so such stiff proprietal standards weren't upheld as much. Of course they weren't what she would consider rude, but that didn't mean that the people from bigger cities wouldn't think that. "Oh sorry, I forget myself sometimes. Mariella Cary is the name, it's a pleasure to meet you Mr. Primpernelle." She had to keep from asking about his odd last name. It seemed like a lot of people who came from long lines of magic had odd family names, but then again Cary was probably odd to them.
"I don't need to go to the hospital wing. I'm perfectly fine thanks to you. I can't say as that I know much about Quidditch but thank heavens it hones ones instincts." She said with a soft smile. "We muggles don't have a sport quite so interesting." She didn't bother amending her statement. She wasn't a muggle. She had to remember that. She had the gift of magic, but it was so easy to refer to herself as a muggle when that was what most people here called her anyways. Either that or mudblood. "I think muggle is the correct term, I must admit I'm a bit confused. I get called several things, mudblood most common..." She trailed off and touched her pointer finger to her lips thoughtfully. "Though I think that's meant to be an insult." She gave a soft shrug. She wasn't offended. She was used to being picked on for various things so it wasn't so strange to her that she would be picked on here as well.
Waving a hand dismissively she regarded him again. "Anyhoo, thank you for saving me. I'm not so sure I'd be in one piece still if you hadn't been there." She still didn't sound particularly thankful but not quite flippant either. Usually a young lady in her position would be very frightened sounding, but she was fearless to the point of stupidity it would seem. After all, why dwell on what could have been? Sure, she could have fallen and gotten hurt, but she hadn't. So why should she spend any time thinking about if she had? It didn't make any sense to her so she wouldn't do it.
The off-the-cuff manner in which she spoke was more than a little off-putting, but Harry didn't want to dwell on it. She was a first year, and a Muggleborn, so there was no knowing where she'd come from. She could have been born in a ditch in the Slums of London, for all he knew, which would make her behavior quite excuseable. Well, it was only the first month of school. She'd learn.
"Muggleborn," he corrected her with a slight flush, deciding it'd be better just to ignore her comments about Mudbloods. He knew that several of his classmates used terms like that, but he wasn't really comfortable addressing it either way. He was only one generation from being a mudblood himself. "Muggles don't have magic. The word you want is Muggleborn."
Awkwardly, he realized that he didn't know how to end the conversation now. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "Well, er, glad you're alright. And that the bird is alright," he offered, not sure what else to say.
Tag: Mariella
Notes: thread occurs on September 27th, 1880. Harry is a fourth year.
She gave a sort of frown when he corrected her. It was very minimal and more akin to a pout than anything. "I don't understand this whole blood status thing. I get called at least three things regularly and I haven't a clue which is properly used to identify with! But I suppose muggleborn does make the most sense." She was thoughtful sounding with her last thought. "I honestly don't care either way - I have magic, why does it matter if my family does?" She would never understand why people would find ways to separate themselves from others. It all seemed very silly to her but she knew that it was the way of society more times than not to segregate things based on their differences.
When he mentioned the bird she looked truly upset for a moment. "I'm sure he'll bleed out, poor thing." She was experienced with treating injuries in animals the muggle way - she had always helped out with the animal doctor back home and had seen injuries like that kill birds. "But I tried and that's all I can do. I am very thankful that you were there to keep me from falling." She felt the need to tell him again. She didn't want him to think her ungrateful even if she was upset that the bird would more than likely lose its life. It wasn't his fault. Not everyone cared about animals as she did and she knew that she could be a bit overwhelming in her love of them. So of course he'd think she was mad for taking such great lengths to try and save the bird.
Not even catching on that the situation may be uncomfortable for Harrison, she rocked back and forth on her heels softly and just smiled as though she were waiting for the conversation to progress. Whether or not it would, however, remained to be seen.
I didn't know if you wanted to end it or not. I thought maybe but I wasn't sure so I left it open for him to excuse himself if he wants.
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