‘A Discovery of Witches’ follows Diana Bishop. She’s a historian and a witch. One day, she unlocks a bewitched manuscript in Oxford’s Bodleian Library. Enter vampire Matthew Clairmont, her unexpected ally. Together, they uncover secrets and protect the manuscript from magical creatures. The show mixes history, romance and supernatural elements in stunning UK and Italy settings. It’s a wild ride!

Meet the characters from A Discovery of Witches

Matthew Clairmont

Matthew is this impossibly calm, slightly brooding genius who makes genetics sound like a medieval epic — honestly, he could lecture you into falling in love and you’d thank him later. Scientific, patient, and endlessly protective, he carries centuries of sorrow and surprisingly dry humor; also, yes, he looks like he’d kill you with a look but then bring you soup. He’s old-world manners mixed with modern awkwardness (the kind of man who uses a smartphone like it’s an alien artifact). Also he hoards books but hates dust, which is either a superhero quirk or plain hypocrisy — I can’t decide.

Diana Bishop

Diana is brilliant, curious, and awkwardly fierce in the best possible way — a scholar first, witch second, and constantly surprised by how powerful she actually is. She reads everything, questions everything, and yet sometimes she’s hilariously sentimental (crying over marginalia or lost recipes, true story). She’s moral and stubborn and has this quiet force that makes everyone else rearrange their priorities around her; also she burns toast more than she should, like, a lot. There’s a tender rage beneath the calm — protective, furious when crossed, and absolutely devoted to what she believes is right.

Emily Mather

Emily is molten grief wrapped in a bright, broken smile; she’s tragic history personified but with a flair for scandal and a wicked, bitter wit. Charming and volatile, she’s the kind of ghost/person who haunts with purpose — dramatic, attention-seeking, and oddly poetic about ruined things. She likes high heels and higher stakes, and you can tell she never met a rule she didn’t want to bend (or burn). Also suspiciously tender about tea and secrets, which makes her both endearing and slightly menacing.

Sarah Bishop

Sarah bursts in like a whirlwind — loving, gossipy, and fiercely practical; she’s the sister who will plan your funeral and your wedding in the same afternoon and make you laugh through both. Full of blunt observations, endless loyalty, and a tendency to fuss (to an extreme), she anchors the family with barbed jokes and ridiculous competence. She’s not a subtle woman; she’ll tell you what’s what and then bake you something to make you forgive her. Somehow maternal and mischievous at once, Sarah has a surprisingly sharp instinct for danger despite pretending not to be bothered.

Domenico

Domenico is flamboyant, theatrical, and absolutely devoted — he’s the kind of person who loves loudly and cooks like his life depends on it. Exuberant and sometimes infuriatingly melodramatic, he’s also clever, loyal, and endlessly resourceful (and yes, petty when he wants to be). He refuses to be small; whether plotting or pampering, he does everything with dramatic flair and tiny vengeful notes. Also has a fondness for extravagant hats and odd superstitions, which somehow makes total sense once you meet him.

Peter Knox

Peter is the textbook charming villain who thinks charisma equals rightness — slick, impatient, and very, very hungry for power (like, always calculating). He’s clever in an abrasive way, imposing and entitled, the kind of man who smiles while planning your downfall — which is impressive, if morally bankrupt. He loves science but will bend it for glory, and there’s a desperate vanity underneath like a cracked mirror. Occasionally he’s almost sympathetic when he flashes vulnerability, but then he reminds you why you shouldn’t trust him.

Gerbert D’Aurillac

Gerbert is complicated — pious, paranoid, and quietly vicious with an old-world brain and a face that seems carved from suspicion. He’s the kind of cleric who collects confessions like trophies and will quietly sabotage you with a smile; equally rigid about doctrine and oddly theatrical in his cruelty. He’s pompous but occasionally reveals tiny flashes of doubt that make you wonder if he could have been different (he won’t, though). Also he likes incense way too much and probably has a secret sweet tooth, which is hilarious to imagine.

Susanna Norman

Susanna is the warmest, no-nonsense friend you want in your corner: practical, funny, and stubbornly loyal with a soft spot for chaos that she calls “support.” She’s a mouthy herbalist of sorts (in vibes), incredibly brave in ways that are small but essential, and always ready with both sarcasm and help — like, she’ll mock you and then stitch you up. She balances empathy with a sharp, realistic streak; she’s the glue and the glitter, which is a very confusing combo but it works. Also she keeps oddly specific utensils in her bag and will find them when you need them.

Satu

Satu is fierce, acid-tongued, and fiercely proud of everything she is — a warrior with a biting sarcasm and a loyalty that hits like a physical thing. She’s quick, capable, and has this darkly comic sense of honor; she’s the one who’d save you and then scold you for being so grateful. Terrifying in battle, strangely sentimental about small traditions (like a ridiculous, secret snack ritual), Satu’s contradictions are her charm. Don’t underestimate the quiet moments — she’ll surprise you by being unexpectedly protective and almost tender, then swear she didn’t.

Ysabeau De Clermont

Ysabeau is elegant, commanding, and utterly unflappable in that ancient-matriarch way — she runs households and politics with the same cool efficiency. Proud and slightly scandalized by modern nonsense, she’s pragmatic, sharp as a knife, and has a maternal streak hidden under layers of dignity (and perfume). She keeps secrets like heirlooms, dispenses rules like medicine, and is terrifying when she’s displeased (which is often, in the best way). Also, she does little things that betray affection — a cuppa, an eyebrow raise — and they mean everything; vintage handbag enthusiast, I’m convinced.