The professor was saying all the words that lit up in Charley's head, the sort that might make her raise a fist and pump it in the air. She didn't. Not that anyone in the park would have cared right now. The whole world could have vanished without the urchin noticing, leaving just her and the woman. Professor Lyra, with those deep blue eyes of hers that she could have fallen right into and not cared.

Charley could almost believe this lady meant it when she promised a safe home.

"But why?" Came the question that Charley never seemed to get an answer to. Not from any blind-eyed Ministry foozler, nor any mutton shunters telling her off with one of their prickly rules. Not from Hogsmeade folk nor any rich snob's house elves, neither. Every flower seemed deaf to her questions, and the rats only looked at her long enough to make sure she wasn't food. Hardly anyone bothered to ask an urchin any questions, much less answer hers.

And nobody, nobody, ever did anything nice for her without expecting something back.

"Reckon I work plenty for my bed an' supper, I'd swear to that much. An' all the magic I'm learnin' from Mrs. Mann gets used 'round the shop, en't takin' that for free neither." The urchin kept listing, and probably could have gone on for a while about it with all the things she noticed. It helped her make good enough deals for herself, too, so taking notice didn't go to waste. "An' I en't exactly the pretty sort you'd doll up in a dress for lookin' nice in a parlor or sittin' room when company come a-callin'...'cept I can sing an' dance a bit, so maybe yer wantin' that. 'Cause if it's nothin' nasty or naughty, an' don't think I en't grateful yer promisin' it's not, then I'm plumb vazey why you'd want me 'round yer house at all."

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Writer Notes: Charley is a street urchin in both appearance and behavior, unless written otherwise here.
Interactions may reflect Victorian-era morals rather than modern sensibilities; this is allowed and acceptable to this writer.

Themis hadn't expected to share parts of her life story with an urchin in the park in the dead of night; absolutely not in her lesson plan for the evening. Yet, here she was, faced with both the easiest and thorniest of questions: why? So many ways to answer a question that never had a satisfactory response.

"Because, Charley, without the kindness of someone who owed me nothing, I would be in a worse position than you are now." It was the truth, as simply as she could deliver it. "I think the least I can do, to honor the person who gave me a chance, is to offer that chance to someone else. Should you choose, that person can be you." Themis placed the decision firmly where it belonged, at the young girl's feet. Their stories were different, in many ways, and one of them was Charley was old enough to have a say in her fate.

"I am not taking you on to serve me, and I care little for parlor games. If you stay at my home, you will behave appropriately and you will be diligent in lessons. You will show respect to the people and creatures that serve my family. You will be treated with respect in turn. We can discuss our terms in detail, but for tonight, I offer a safe place to sleep." Themis extended her hand, "Can we agree on that?"

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   Charley Goode

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Lou made magic!

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Charley didn't just feel her nose wrinkle, she felt her whole body shrivel at the thought of it. People didn't just do things for each other out of kindness or thoughtfulness, not Wizardkind and not Muggle. Her Ma and Da had done that sort, but that was what they were supposed to for their kids. Or to teach them, maybe. Since the urchin had been on her own, and that was longer than she'd been an urchin really, it had been up to her to make her own way.

Everybody said so, which must mean everybody had to do it all themselves.

"Ya know the world jes don't work like that, yeah? Any time ya give, it jes takes more." Charley pointed it out as if it was a lesson the woman hadn't learned yet. As if she was the professor and Themis Lyra was now the student. Now there was a class Charley might stay awake for. "An' it en't like I don't try to be nice myself here an' there, mind. I reckon the folk who don't try to take more are just the forgetful sort like me...or you, too."

Shrugging to herself, the urchin added in a lower, almost embarrassed manner, "Might be I forget a few more times 'round some than I do most."

The woman in front of her wasn't embarrassed, or if so she had a funny way of showing it. Charley glanced down at the hand, letting the words she'd said rattle around her skull a few more times. It might have been that Professor Lyra wasn't so much the forgetful sort, after all. Not that Charley was about to trust her immediately, she just didn't see much trouble happening for her by way of agreeing. "Those're some big promises, Professor. Sure does sound nice, mind, livin' in such a place."

Her eyes wandered back to the stars for a moment. She had wished on them plenty of times without an answer. Now that she had one, it wouldn't take much for Charley to close her eyes and sleep, if only they might make all her dreams come true. "Got nice clean sheets, I reckon, an' a table made jes for eatin'. Maybe one that won't mind a bit o' sittin' at it in the meantime, too. Got so used to folk yellin' at me for this or that, it wouldn't feel right to try."

Not that she wouldn't mind having the chance, either. Options and choices, those were only things that Charley got if she took them, and she looked back at the hand being offered. " An' don't think I can't mind my lip or manners, I do got 'em jes fine. Only, I en't had a place to use 'em since I got here." The urchin looked up at the professor. "So as ya know who yer takin' on, Mrs. Lyra. I en't the easiest sort to get on with, but I'll give it a good try. An' that's my promise to you."

Charley made a gargling sound at the back of her throat, and held a hand up to her lips. She spit the loogie, a big wad that she'd hocked up from her throat, right out onto the hand before adding it to the woman's. Deals had to be shook on, and there was nothing more binding than the streets than the spit-shake. Nevermind that she hadn't lived on them for a while, the lessons learned there still did enough to keep her alive.

"It's a deal!" Charley agreed, and shook on it with Professor Lyra. Between the two of them, she was sure that one had gotten themselves into a bigger mess than expected when they'd walked into the park tonight. By the stars above, Charley swore it wasn't going to be her.

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Writer Notes: Charley is a street urchin in both appearance and behavior, unless written otherwise here.
Interactions may reflect Victorian-era morals rather than modern sensibilities; this is allowed and acceptable to this writer.

Themis wouldn't lie to the girl about the harness of the world. That sort of lie only led to misery. She would do this child the kindness of honesty. "The world can be a very uncaring place, but it is up to you whether or not it will make you an uncaring person." She considered the description of herself as 'forgetful' with a rueful smile. "I am many things, but I have never been fortunate enough to be forgetful. Sometimes, Charley, it's remembering that causes us pain. That, it would do you good to remember."

Themis allowed the girl time to consider her words, allowed her a moment with the stars that had counseled her for decades. What Miss Charley wondered made her smile. For all her troubles, Charley was still a child at heart, the nagging of adults still a great nuisance. "I can't think of a reason you wouldn't be allowed at the table, Charley. We will work on the speech and manners." Themis managed to keep her lips in a firm line as Charley assessed her character. Alright, then. "Professor Lyra," she corrected gently, "And thank you for your promise."

Themis was thinking that was the end of it, until the little creature spit into her hand and shook it. As the mother of the most precocious and wily little boy she'd ever met, and now the den mother of the most chaotic house at Hogwarts, this was not the first saliva shake encounter in her life. Themis was so disappointed she could say that. Etiquette before magic; posthaste.

"Then, Charley, let's go home."

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   Charley Goode

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Lou made magic!

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