24th of July, 1893 - Generic outdoor party, brats not invited

Grown-ups were dumb. They were dumb because they had dumb rules, rules they didn’t even clearly spell out for anybody. They just expect you to know, how dumb is that!

For example, today there was a great big set-up in one of the courtyards between all the shops in the nicer part of town, the part where houses start getting bigger and if he wanders too far ladies in big skirts start staring at him. This part of town had strung up a bunch of colorful banners, and set up a bunch of tables and chairs, and had started to set out a bunch of things on those tables— plates of candies and snacks on colorful tablecloths, pints of stuff you aren’t supposed to drink if you’re not a grown-up (also dumb), that sort of thing.

Max was alone. He found that he preferred being alone, nowadays, primarily because life was awful and unfair and no one understands. But he does really like sweets, so that’s what he went off to enjoy— a tasty blueberry pie somebody left on the tables. How was he supposed to know he’s not supposed to have some?

It wasn’t just him, either. Some other kid was there too!

Anyway, an old lady with a big scary skirt started screaming the second she caught Max red handed taking the pie (well, technically, blue-handed). She brandished her wand. Pie still clutched near himself, he spun around and started to run before any spell could hit him. The other kid nearby looked startled by the screaming too, and they also knew like they knew where they were going— Max didn’t trust no stinking grown-ups but he did trust a kid that looks like they know stuff. So when the kid veered hard right through a narrow alley, he went after them.

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Charley Goode

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   Charley Goode

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magical set by mj <3
~ Max was raised in Italy and talks with a bit of an Italian accent / misses some English vocab/slang.

A picnic was really too good to resist. How could she not? When it came right down to it, the aromas of plentiful food were more powerful than flame to a moth. The street urchin was simply doing what was natural, that was all. And naturally, the picnic-goers brought far too much food for themselves, they couldn't exactly blame Charley for taking advantage.

Charley, herself, thought her nose might explode with the heavenly smells. They were even worse the closer she went, at one point the urchin was pretty sure she was no longer walking. No, she was definitely floating her way across to the tables, heedless of the glaring looking of those tweed-faced upper crusters at the picnic. Charley could worry about them when she wasn't hungry anymore.

Her pockets were nice and deep inside the urchin's trousers, with a few on the vest she wore over her shirt. Charley used them to her full advantage, plucking out rolls or fruits to stuff into pockets. A few of the foods were far too tempting, like a steaming tray of hot sausages, to wait for later at all. The urchin wasn't about to bother with a plate, much less a fork and knife, and turned a couple of the sausages into cigars for her mouth to chew on, bobbing up and down as she browsed the rest of the picnic wares.

Wide eyes glanced up when Charley heard the screaming begin. She clutched her pockets, sure that someone was about to grab hold of her for taking the picnic food. No one was about to snatch the grub from her without a fight!

The urchin found herself luckily spared from the confrontation, spying a blue-fingered, black-haired boy at the center of the commotion. Charley could almost see the moment before it began, and kicked her feet into action.

She wasn't about to stick around for whatever awful things the upper-crusters might do, no matter how bad Charley felt for a fellow picnic-crasher.

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   Ida Chang

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Max ran like a bat out of hell. Specifically, he zigzagged, because he supposed it was harder for a spell of any kind to hit him if he’s zigzagging. The boy bobbed under a table and half-dragged the cloth with him, letting a bunch of trays of something spill with significant crashes behind him. The yelling persisted but he wasn’t about to turn around and find out how close they were. Instead he dodged, kept his head close to the ground as he sprinted and caught sight of little feet of another kid right in front of him.

The kid moved into a narrow alley, and he followed. Their footsteps clattered on the cobblestones, as did hurried steps behind them– cazzo, they were being followed! Since Becks was off in the Americas earning money, and Uncle Tommy was off working by the ports in London, there wouldn’t even be anyone around to get him out of trouble.

Long legs took the extra sprint, catching up breathlessly to the kid he was running behind. He urgently tugged what he guessed was a boy’s vest. They were in this together, since they were both running– he motioned wildly down a set of narrow cobblestone stairs, twisty and turny branching off the alley they were on. For sure this ought to take them somewhere extra hidden.

Down the distance, a barking shout– based on the uniform, it looked like one of those constables racing to them from down the alley. Max wasted no time shoving past the kid down the stairs he motioned to.

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   Charley Goode

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magical set by mj <3
~ Max was raised in Italy and talks with a bit of an Italian accent / misses some English vocab/slang.

Sounds assaulted the urchin's ears, pulsing with the rhythm of her pounding heart. Her shoes clopped against the cobblestones that paved the well-to-do lane, the fabric of her pockets stretched and whined that they might tear, and the worst of all, a pair of footfalls close behind her. Charley didn't glance back, only putting on a burst of speed to get farther away from whatever grown-up was about to snag her collar.

The tug on her vest nearly sent Charley sprawling, and she jerked hard the other way to keep upright. Her head snapped with a glare and growl for the would-be captor, only to find a face and body her size staring back instead. No, not quite her size, her head still craned back and inch or three to take in the boy's curly mop and the harried look of his face. She knew that look and didn't hesitate at all when he gestured down another path.

And none too soon! The urchin didn't need a look back to mark that shout. Stamping feet, shouting voices, hot on their tail? Had to be the fuzz!

Rushing air against her cheek warned her of the boy's bustling form, heading down the stairs he pointed out. Charley followed after only a second, nursing the pit in her stomach that grew worse with each step they descended. No, no, no, no, No, NO! This was all the wrong way, he was leading them straight into trouble. She had spied enough muggers and baggers funneled down this passage to know what awaited them in the closed courtyard at the end.

Swallowing so hard she could feel it in her toes, Charley surged forward with all her energy. She covered the ground between them with some to spare, yanking hard on the boy's ear or collar, something with enough give to make her start as it slipped from her fingers. Then she was off, angling through a tight corner at the bottom of the stairs that led to more open avenues and close-together rooftops they could climb to.

An eyebrow cocked as she pointed up, passing her wordless intentions on to the boy. She nearly stopped for a second to ask if he could climb, not that the urchin had any breath at all to ask it with.

Oh well, she decided and hurried on to the first building with enough cracks in the mortar for footholds. He'd learn fast if he wanted to avoid getting collared for real.

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Max could hear the boy clattering behind him as he raced down the stairs, heart pumping hard enough he thought it might break through his chest. Hadn’t run around like this since he first ran away from the orphanage, and he wasn’t about to get caught now! Though he was a bit out of practice. Max huffed, the blueberry pie not exactly settling well in his stomach as everything got jostled around. If he squinted, he could see their opening up ahead. Well. Thought he saw. All of the sudden, the furious pump of his legs started to slow, as Max squinted some more, and — oh no!

A bloody dead end! It nearly brought him to a grinding halt. What were they to do now, how could they get out–?!

His newfound companion practically sent Max flying down the steps as he got cuffed. Only a cold hand that yanked hard at his collar managed to straighten him out and tug him along. The Gryffindor did his very best to match his pace, darting through a tight corner alley shooting off the stairway, startled by the sound of squeaky fancy shoes signaling the cosntable’s furious approach. They couldn't see the constable which meant he couldn’t see them, but this boy still stopped too soon for Max’s tastes. Not that he was in any position to complain… As soon as they stopped Max doubled over, catching his breath. Still panting, hands on his knees, his gaze followed his accomplice’s finger that pointed up. Dark eyes widened notably as he realized what they were saying…Oh.

The sound of the constable hot on their trail left no room for question, even as Max gawked at the sure footing the strange boy found to go up. He tried to mirror his movements best he could, finding any loose mortar or pipe to grasp or step on to help him clamber up. More than once he lost his footing, but even though his shoulders ached Max managed to haul himself up over the side.

There was where he lay. A stagger and a fall to the knees, he managed to grasp his companion’s ankles as he dropped forward and heaved for air. They had to be safe up here, right? At least for a minute?

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magical set by mj <3
~ Max was raised in Italy and talks with a bit of an Italian accent / misses some English vocab/slang.

The urchin hooked her arms beneath her knees, to sit leaning against the angled rooftop. From her perch, she could spy on the happenings of the street below just off the lip of the shingles. It wasn't likely anyone would look up, people never looked up. Coppers even less so. That gave her a moment to catch her breath, and take an inventory of her illicit catch from the park buffet.

Including the wholly unintended boy gasping his lungs out next to her.

She chuckled at his drawn, breathless face. His dark nest of hair and lack of a single freckle made him stand out compared to most children in Hogsmeade. Other than that, he didn't seem like too much of a hinderance to the urchin's flight. Sure, he had almost wound up leading them straight into a copper's net, but Charley might have done so as well if she hadn't seen it before. As long as he could keep up, the urchin could stand having him around.

From her pocket, Charley withdrew one of the sausages that had survived the chase. She wiped it off and stuck it in her mouth, biting into the juicy, plump casing. For a split second, the urchin thought she could see heaven itself. For all she knew, the sausage was spelled that way, not that it made a difference to her mouth. This sausage was life itself, and by eating it, Charley knew she could take on the world again.

Charley could surely avoid its devious coppers, anyway.

Glancing over at the boy, Charley knew in an instant what he needed. She broke off half the sausage with her teeth, handing it over to the mousy-haired kid. If he was going to keep up, he'd need the energy.

And if he didn't, she'd leave him behind. That's just how it had to be here, eat or be eaten...by Hogsmeade's finest law enforcement. Who had to be bumbling fools if they couldn't spot two kids up on the roof. Charley didn't gamble often, but when she did it was never on the police. They were a true wildcard, and she had learned never to trust her senses over her gut.

Charley's gut was telling her to run, and her eyes were already picking a spot on the horizon. She smacked her hand into the boy's chest, throwing back an impatient glare to make him take the sausage. Her chin flicked across the roofs and neighborhoods of Hogsmeade, figuring he'd get the point.

They weren't safe yet, time to get moving!

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At least his newfound companion wasn’t giving him a terrible amount of grief for laying there, so Max focused on drawing in big gulpfulls of air to recover. Eventually he rolled from his splayed position on his stomach to his back, blinking tiredly up at the sky above. It wasn’t often they could see the wide open sky here in Hogsmeade, it was one of the reasons he preferred to be in the park. This was a rather nice view, now that he was here. From the corner of his eye he clocked the boy peering over the edge of the building, scanning just how close a call to capture they had.

Max wouldn’t ever say it, not now at least, but he was grateful. The last thing he needed was his father getting called back from his important business in American to get Max out of jail or an orphanage or something. That’s if he would even bother coming, a fact Max was reticent to put much confidence in.

The kid chuckled down at him and they blinked at each other, Max making no motion to move. He was fine laying right here, thanks. Couldn’t they just stay here? He had a hard time imagining the coppers clinging to pipes and clambering up to the rooftop. (The idea that adults had plenty of other means to get up on rooftops escaped him.)

The smell of something meaty and delicious wafted briefly in the air towards him, and he warily propped himself up on his elbows. He was not expecting to be offered a piece, and for a second he balked at the boy. Really? his eyebrow raise suggested. Then the kid looked irritated, giving him a harried smack that made the sausage bounce off the front of his clothes. Max’s surprise immediately turned into a faint scowl, though he quickly took the offering and put it between his teeth.

And oh. He didn’t have meat very often outside of school and this tasted like heaven. Mouth was watering from just a nibble, and Max took his time chewing and swallowing the first bite, big brown eyes finding his friend’s to confirm– rich people have the best sausages. Worth every heaving breath, though now he was thankful to find himself rejuvenated with newfound energy. Good timing, too– his companion nodded out across the roofs ahead of them, making it clear that they couldn’t stay much longer. Max took another big bite of his sausage and tucked the rest of it in the corner of his mouth for safekeeping as he came to a stand, ducking low to stand beside his partner in crime.

Who was… insane. He looked from them to the rooftop across the way and back to them, a big stitch forming between his brows. Did they mean to jump? That long way? …Were their little legs long enough to make it?

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   Charley Goode

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magical set by mj <3
~ Max was raised in Italy and talks with a bit of an Italian accent / misses some English vocab/slang.

An approving eye considered the boy's earnest chewing, and the urchin bit her lip before she forgot where they were. The urge to giggle and share more of her bounty was threatening to overtake her, and she could have easily let it. Let the coppers climb up and find them, fat and happy on their catch from the buffet. For just one afternoon of sweet satisfaction, getting hauled off to the town jail might have almost been worth it.

Almost. Charley stood up beside the boy, an electric grin on her face. Being up on these roofs was freeing, bringing out the daring side of her. She had mastered them instead of plodding through classwork or learning the meaningless magic of a world that wasn't all that different from her own sometimes. What a few people had, she was happy to take part of for herself.

Even if that meant a wild chase through and above the streets of Hogsmeade.

Charley sized up the gap between the buildings. It wasn't so impossible as the boy's skeptical face might have declared. She would have told him how silly he was being, too, if they weren't trying to stay quiet until the last moment. He was taller than her, anyway, and with longer legs, if she could make it then so could he.

The urchin swallowed the last of her sausage, her eyes on the next rooftop as she licked her greasy lips clean. The savory taste clung to them, fuel for her coiling muscles as she bent low and ready. Then she sprung up, the alley cat leaping from the low prowl above her prey. A clatter rang out under her feet as Charley ran, but it didn't matter now if the coppers heard her. It was too late to stop the urchin from going. She launched herself off the edge, flying to the freedom of the next rooftop.

Her roll took her halfway down the shingled slop before Charley could slow to a stop, but then she was up and dusting herself off. Angling away from the peak had worked, barring a bruise or two, but now she had to clamber back up to it. From there, the urchin could see the way, through the maze-like pattern of Hogsmeade's winding streets, to the center of it all. High Street would be the easiest place to lose the coppers, and into the slums below its broad avenue.

High on success, she turned back to beckon for the boy to follow and faster now. He could even lead, once he understood where they were going, all that mattered now was getting there and ahead of the coppers.

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Max’s heart pounded in his chest hard enough he swore it could burst out. Nerves wore on his face with a pinched look, dark eyes wary and assessing as they darted from the kid crouching down to the jump back to the kid back to the jump back to the kid—

Aaah! Max swallowed his shout with an under-chewed and startled bite out of the sausage he still had in his mouth. The meat dropped down to the ground, rolling down the slope of the rooftop to the street below he’d rather not to splatter himself on. But he hardly noticed, eyes tracking his companion in crime’s impeccable landing. Awe shortly replaced fear, then delight replaced awe. For a second, Max’s face split into a shining look of unbridled glee – because not only had his newfound friend made the leap, but it looked kind of fun.

Unfortunately for them, however, the sausage had rolled off the roof to plop unceremoniously on a constable’s big head. The clatter of shoes on shingles gave them away too, and suddenly from down below, they heard the man bark up at them for attention. Max’s glee slipped away as soon as it came, and he turned to race back on the roof. Then he turned and crouched down, mimicking how he’d seen his companion launch. He swayed nervously from foot to foot, fists clenching and unclenching.

But the great big clatter his friend had made with their leap did not go unnoticed. Neither was the bit of sausage Max dropped, given it landed unceremoniously on a constable’s head. The man barked at them from down below, and their time was up. The boy sprinted. He lept, pushing as hard as he could off the balls of his feet. For a terrifying moment, Max felt like he was floating. Floating, however, he was not – the sudden loud crash and sharp sting on his knees and palms told him so. He winced, but was quick to pick himself up, ignoring the soot that coated his knees and hands and even ignoring the feeling of sheer triumph that made him grin big. Catching his friend’s eye, Max pointed wildly out to the horizon, not wanting to relay their plan out loud. Through Hogsmeade’s spider web of streets they could see a path to the bustling center of High Street, and that path looked clear. He took off running, leading the way but only by the smallest of margin as they charged forward shoulder to shoulder.

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   Charley Goode

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magical set by mj <3
~ Max was raised in Italy and talks with a bit of an Italian accent / misses some English vocab/slang.

Her eyes rolled, watching the boy make his decision as easily as a cornered kitten, or obvious as one anyway. The urchin could measure patience by the space between her freckles, and just because she couldn't tap her foot didn't mean she wouldn't leave the boy waffling on the other roof. He'd already dropped something, nearly doffing the hat of a copper below, and after leaning over to size him up she really wished she hadn't. Charley had been just about to ditch her newfound partner in crime to the fruits of his illicit labor when he crashed noisily at her feet.

Again, her eyes rolled at his grinning clumsiness only to snap back up. She gave him a curt nod, feeling a small flicker of hope in her chest. It was one she hadn't realized had still been burning. There was hope for the black-haired sausage-dropper after all, as slim as it might be. Charley started apace but soon let him lead the way, keeping a wary glance on the bobbing hats in the street below. The last thing she needed was to be led straight into a trap, her collar had been stretched too many times by the town's constable's already.

The urchin could hear the calls of the coppers fading beneath them, giving way to the bustle and calls of High Street. Here, the roofs were closet together, enough to just hop right over. Each time they crossed to a new building, she felt her heart skip a beat and silently counted down to herself.

Five, four, three, two, one.

Each time, Charley was relieved to hear no shouts from below, no high-brimmed hats appearing from over the edges of the roof. Her nerves, as rigid as iron since they escaped the party, felt like she had held them so long they'd rusted over.

Four, three, two one.
Three, two, one.
Two, one.
One.

Perching on the last row before High Street, the urchin could draw a breath freely again. They'd lost their tail at last, the coppers taking a wrong turn or just plain given up. Since she wasn't about to be nabbed for her five-finger discount today, Charley stuffed them in her pockets, feeling for the last crumbs of what she had taken from the party. Not much left, just a piece of fruit and a few crumbs from a roll. Vested shoulders shrugged to herself, it was still worth it for the look of shock on the faces of partygoers.

A smug grin settled in on her face. She'd lost the coppers, and not her hide. Now it was time to lose the other boy. The urchin was sure he could fend for himself at this point, all he'd have to do was climb down a roof. Then it was just a short stroll to blend in with High Street. Since he took so quickly to roof-hopping, she had all the confidence he could handle the rest just as well.

Charley chuckled to herself, letting the thought last her until her feet hit the ground. Then she turned and sniffed, letting her nose lead her in a new direction. After a chase like that, her stomach still had more than enough room for another party full of food.

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   Maxwell Beck

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They made a good team, Max thought. Like a dynamic duo from the books he read, or even the business partnership between his not-dad and fake-uncle. One was the fast and cunning one, the other was the big and brash one. Though his feet kept pace with the thrill of their getaway, he still felt clumsy and uncertain, and worried more about where his own two dumb feet went than any potential traps. He caught the kid with a worried look on his grubby face, scowling down at the streets to see if they still had some coppers on their tail.

If Max had a single breath to spare– he didn’t, this was infinitely harder than most of his Quidditch practices – he would’ve told the kid he thought he lost them, and there was no reason to worry.

As they worked their way closer to High Street the buildings crowded up enough they were nearly on top of each other, making it a much easier trek. Max scrambled a bit unsurely around some of the chimneys, and got a good whiff of some disgusting noxious gas from some apothecary. It churned his stomach almost enough to make their stolen prizes less appetizing. (Almost, but not quite. How stupid it was to have dropped that delectable sausage! He was going to dream about that...)

Maybe Max should be more worried about what could happen if they were caught. The fire that lit his companion’s footsteps came from a level of urgency that he hadn’t experienced since… well, since he ran away from the dumb orphanage, maybe. But then again, he had people like Barnabas or Tommy or Hestia or even scary Gallagher to help him if he desperately needed it. It did not occur to him that his newfound friend had a different story.

Perhaps they could talk about it– they could be friends, couldn’t they? The dynamic duo, two of the greatest mastermind wizards in the world actually, robbing ugly old ladies with big skirts and tiny dogs of fineries they wouldn’t even notice missing until it was too late. Max didn’t want fineries, he wanted money, because money meant doing things– meant all the sausages in the world, for example.

Before Max could open his mouth to confide these things– to point out he didn’t recognize this kid, what house are they in? How old is he? – he watched them slip down the side of the building like the slipperiest of snakes.

Slytherin, probably. And younger– maybe not even a first year?

Max tried to follow, but his climb down was less than elegant, and he hung precariously on the ledge of a windowsill until he heard someone shriek with surprise on the other side. He dropped unceremoniously to the ground, knees quick to protest where his skin stretched out a few fresh cuts and scrapes. Max took one single spin around in place, searching wildly for his friend.

The kid disappeared. And frankly, so should he. With a last fleeting look down a windy alley that maybe the kid had gone down, Max turned on his heel to get lost in the crowd.

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   Charley Goode

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magical set by mj <3
~ Max was raised in Italy and talks with a bit of an Italian accent / misses some English vocab/slang.