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!
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    News
    09.24 We have new Wenches!
    09.24 A wild election deadline appears!
    09.14 Witch Weekly needs more Wenches!
    09.10 Hags have hired!
    09.05 Hags are Hiring & Update your CML Entries
    09.04 Congratulations to Lynn and Bree for winning August's PW!
    09.02 The AC is underway, and the results are in for Camp Charming...
    09.01 September ahoy! A new school year, new skins, and elections!
     
        
     
    His Funeral Is Probably Next
    #1
    Private Thread 
    Herschel had known Eustace Macnair fairly well which was to be expected considering their positions in the Ministry and shared social class. However, he hadn't exactly been Mr. Macnair's closest friend either. Nevertheless, he'd decided to show up to the funeral to pay his respects. He also rather liked a good funeral, especially when the person going six feet under was a great deal younger than himself, it made him feel quite triumphant. The best thing about a good, well attended funeral, however, were the weeping women. Nothing said vulnerable to seduction like a crying woman in black crepe.

    So like the sex vulture that he was, Herschel had turned up in his best mourning suit and began his survey of the gathering. There was a disappointingly small number of grief-stricken women, even the man's widow seemed devoid of predictable hysterics. Not wanting to have wasted his time by attending, he picked a few young ladies out that he liked the look of and thought he'd try his chances. Top of his list and the one he assumed most likely to be in some state of misery leaving her vulnerable to his charms, was the deceased's niece, Miss Tatiana Lestrange.

    When an opportunity presented itself during the allotted viewing time of the body, Herschel quietly walked up behind the young woman and stood himself to the side of her. "Allow me to offer my deepest sympathies on the passing of your uncle, Miss Lestrange. What a terrible, terrible tragedy."

    JULY 21st, 1887 | @Tatiana Lestrange
    [-] The following 2 users Like Herschel Dawlish's post:
       Annabelle Scrimgeour, Odira Potter

    RUNE. SET. MAKE. WOAH. AMAZING.
    #2
    That Aunt Olivia died had been shocking; that cousin Rosalind had died, tragic. That Uncle Eustace was dead now, though, was something different. Tatiana had not expected to care, and while she did not grieve, at least not fully, his absence from the house they had so long shared was palpable. She had kept a wary eye upon her aunt throughout the funeral proceedings, and taken her cues on the matter from the woman who had raised her. As such, Tatiana’s assumed demeanor was a drawn, quiet one as she averted the eyes of most and generally kept to herself. After all, Eustace Macnair had been the closest thing she had to a father—it wasn’t his fault that she had taken more after his wife!

    An untouched tea cup was perched in her hands as she stood at the edge of the gathering that had returned to the house. It was impressive, but then, theirs was an impressive family, one that demanded respect simply for continuing to exist. The best of the best—and a great deal who liked to think themselves as much—were here to pay tribute to a man they scarcely knew from a family they envied.

    Tatiana was not certain which category Herschel Dawlish fell into, but she knew that his was not company she cared to endure overlong.

    “So kind of you to say, Mr. Dawlish,” she replied softly, pleased the veil she had donned for the occasion gave her excuse not to meet his eyes. “My dear uncle’s passing was so sudden, I scarcely know what to do without him. He was so young—it is dreadfully unfair to have lost him so soon.”

    Especially with walking corpses like Dawlish still prancing about.
    [-] The following 1 user Likes Tatiana Lestrange's post:
       Ursula Black
    [Image: odM84nr.jpg]
    pretties by MJ <3
    #3
    Herschel felt very reassured by Miss Lestrange's reception of him; here was a young lady suffering and vulnerable and in need of a husband! He had no intention of taking advantage of the latter any further than perhaps allowing her to imagine that could be his intention so he could make an attempt on her maidenhood. Naive young girls always made themselves more readily available if they thought they were on the path to marriage.

    "Indeed, it's a great loss," he agreed with a heavy sigh that wasn't genuine but was meant to sound it. "And you must be suffering immensely; to endure so much loss at such a tender age, it's unimaginably unjust!" Herschel doubted her age was the most tender part of her. "But allow me to say, Miss Lestrange, that you bear it with impeccable grace." He was trying on that roguish half-smolder that he occasionally practiced in the mirror while performing his morning ablutions.

    JULY 21st, 1887 | @Tatiana Lestrange
    [-] The following 1 user Likes Herschel Dawlish's post:
       Odira Potter

    RUNE. SET. MAKE. WOAH. AMAZING.
    #4
    “You are so generous to say so, Mr. Dawlish,” she cooed appreciatively as her obscured gaze searched about the room for some relation or another to rescue her from the crypt-keeper’s uncle. “I feel as if such a wreck ever since it…it happened.”

    Tatiana was not the sort to wear her heart on her sleeve, but if Mr. Dawlish and the others here in attendance expected her to play the role of visibly grieving daughter, then she would have to do so.
    [Image: odM84nr.jpg]
    pretties by MJ <3
    #5
    Confidence shot through him as she appeared to be playing straight into his hands. "But of course you do," he sympathized, albeit with ulterior motive on his mind. "Who could expect any less of you?" He hoped she started crying soon, the more vulnerable the better.

    "If you don't mind me saying, Miss Lestrange, you may be woefully grief-stricken but it hasn't dimmed your sublime beauty in the slightest. If anything, you are all the more radiant!" Herschel felt ever so pleased with his choice of words, he could only wonder at how they were affecting her. Hopefully he'd see a timid blush in her pale cheeks and know that he'd put it there. Ah yes, this funeral would surely be worth the effort.

    JULY 21st, 1887 | @Tatiana Lestrange

    RUNE. SET. MAKE. WOAH. AMAZING.