6 June, '95 — Padmore Park
Summer Triangle Viewing Party

It was like dreaming, really, except with eyes wide open. All the pretty patterns in the stars might have never made sense to her without someone to point them out. Astronomy always seemed like nonsense in books, and in class. What did finding a particular star matter to anyone down here on the ground anyway?

The urchin had a glimpse of them now, looming larger than the little pinpricks against the night sky. Larger than life, too, when assuming the roles their constellations had in the evening's stories. Starring roles, naturally, like any player would aspire to. Charley did, too, when there wasn't something smaller holding her back. Something more down to earth, the sort she'd rather care less about than her stomach or feet did. With her legs crossed in the grass, she feasted with her eyes at the sky, and it might have just been enough to keep her full for a day.

Just not tonight.

She saw the woman coming near, long enough to get up onto her elbows and grab the cap from behind her. Beyond its brim and the roofs of Hogsmeade, Charley didn't have much reason to look farther up most days. And most nights it was enough to have a warm bed and cold food. Having a minute to look up at something else had been nice for a while, but the urchin knew that was over before the woman even opened her mouth.

"Don't hafta say it to me, Professor. I s'pose I'll be off now, too." Charley couldn't see anyone else who had overstayed the night's stargazing session, or she might think the woman had more to say about it. Not that she thought Professor Lyra had much good to say in her direction anyhow, not with the grades she'd managed in the woman's class. On the nights she managed to stay awake, that is.

Her cot by the flower shop's hearth was plenty suited for dreaming, anyhow.

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Themis Lyra

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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.

It surprised her how much she missed teaching in the summer. The first weeks after the term, she was usually glad for the silence in the castle, but so much had changed since last summer. She did her best to ignore the list of ways she felt different as she moved around the park. She could still hear the bustle of the work crews as they dismantled the evening's exhibits. She wandered the area along the shore in the darkness, her eyes trained on the stars. She knew them well and took comfort in the stars that never failed her.

She contemplated turning back when she encountered a girl in the grass. In the darkness of the viewing area, Themis wasn't certain if the face was familiar or not. She didn't seem familiar, but the girl at least had sat through her lecture tonight. "I am not throwing you out. The park is not mine to control. I am sure you have someone who is wondering where you are so late." Themis didn't scold, especially not for star gazing, but she was a mother.

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Having her cap in hand kept on familiar thing in Charley's grip. It was odd enough to find professors outside of Hogwarts, teaching like the world was their classroom too. That sort of thing didn't excite her all that much, she liked to steer clear of them most often, in fact. On most nights, the young flower girl could hardly get away from the shop anyway, making tonight already special enough to while away a few minutes staring up at the stars afterwards.

Staring at the professor dim form didn't seem as familiar to the urchin. Not just for the years since she had been in the woman's class, either. Most anyone in Hogsmeade would just as soon see Charley off as hold a real conversation with her. Professor Lyra wasn't doing either of those yet, but her words were coming dangerously close to choosing a side.

"No candles burnin' in windows for me," she offered with a shrug, unsure how visible that would be in the darkness, and not really minding if it went unseen. She donned her cap again anyway, just in case the night's educator changed her mind about kicking her out, sitting it firmly on the ginger hairs not plaited into the shabby braid behind her. "I get by jes fine."

Charley kept her seat for now, like she was daring the professor's whims to change. And maybe she was, grown-ups liked to talk about giving choices and opportunities to her sort, just so long as urchins like her stayed where she was supposed to be. It was just as well that Mrs. Mann nor Crouch ever really waited up for her, Charley would have liked to disappoint them least of all those in Hogsmeade.

Their words meant something to her. The weight of the woman's words could easily twinkle off like starlight before she could blink.

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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.

That was not an answer that calmed the mother in her. "Lumos minima," she raised her palm, and a soft light glowed. She got a better look at the child before her. She was small, but easily old enough for Hogwarts. She had a passing familiarity, but Themis knew she wasn't a current student. Who was this girl running about in pants in the dark? She led with her curiosity, didn't want the girl shutting down her questions.

"I am sorry, but I cannot walk away and leave you here by yourself. I am sure there is nothing to worry about, but it would not be wise." Themis didn't bother explaining herself further to the child, but this was not open to negotiation. She couldn't leave a child alone in the park near midnight. Themis could hear her son's voice in her head, teasing her for being such a mother, but it wasn't the sort of thing she'd ever been able to escape. As a girl, her friends just called it "bossy" or "being Themis." She never cared what it was called, as long as all were clear she would be responsible for the good of the group.

Not wishing to appear threatening, Themis lowered herself to the grass, sitting a few paces away from the girl. "Tell me, do you enjoy Astronomy? I teach it. It was my favorite class in school." Themis offered, hoping to coax a bit more information out of this little mystery. "Are you in school?"

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   Charley Goode

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Charley was only really annoyed that the light dimmed her view of the stars, leaving her focus entirely on the professor. She was a spirit in the dark, all aglow against the night sky. Just for a moment, the urchin could remember what it was like, really like, at Hogwarts. Back before it had been easier to hate it than give herself a chance to regret the truly magical place that had left her behind.

"S'pose you'll be waitin' here for a while, then, if yer 'spectin' my folk'll be by to collect me." Charley didn't mind the woman taking a seat next to her, and now in the light she could see enough to pick out some of the taller, thicker grasses from the ground. Plucking them with her fingers, they set about lining them up until she had the right pair among the rest. It was easier than trying to answer the thousand questions that dribbled forth from the professor's mouth, one that Charley had actually enjoyed listening to during the actual program. Then, they hadn't been the same words she'd heard, and been asked, a thousand times already.

"Sometimes...and nope." Her curt response wasn't trying to be rude, really. The urchin just really wanted the professor to past the point where she was just a sob story. As soon as the woman could understand that Charley wasn't about to crumple into tears at the very mention of the school or parents who had abandoned her, she might be able to figure out the game.

There was always a game.

The makeshift whistle came up to her mouth and she tested it, softly. Being nighttime, though still pretty far from any homes, Charley thought better of piercing the dark with a shrill whistle. Maybe she could summon the Park Ghost, Barnabas, or something from out of the water. The idea put a grin on her face, and she took a second to sit all the way up, still coming half a head below the professor seated next to her. She was a tall one, for sure.

"Jes a working girl now, figured you came by 'cause of my face or summat. Used to be one of 'em in yer class up at the castle when I went, uhh..." Charley had to think with her fingers for a second, and flicked the whistle away to float back to the dark ground beyond their circle of light. Sometimes it was just good to know she could still make a grass whistle, had nothing to do with the tenderheart sitting in her skirts on the grass. She counted on her fingers, coming out to three somehow, and even the urchin was surprised by that. "a while back."

The grin reappeared for a moment to cut in on that sour turn of events, "Reckon I en't quite the same now, eyes wide open an' 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 didn't react to the girl's attempted deflection. Alright, either this girl was breaking curfew or, tragically, she could be telling the truth. Themis opted to test the theory, knowing that a lie would break the girl before it had Themis giving up and apparating home. Even if she wasn't a professor, she was a mother. It would take much more than a child's posturing to get her to leave.

She was quickly gathering the opinion that the child was not, in fact, joking as the deep of the night darkened, lights going out in the village around them. The young girl made a whistle of the grass and Themis hid her smile in the darkness. She was fond of doing the same, as a girl.

She was silent for a while, simply listening to the sounds of the darkness, as she listened to the younger child. Themis considered her next words; considered them carefully, before saying. "Learning, growing, changes all of us. I am sure you have changed very much since you were in my class." She looked at the girl, really looked and tried to imagine her shrinking in her robes and eyes darting about the classroom. The image almost matched a memory. "You were sorted into Gryffindor, I believe. Miss?"

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   Charley Goode

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Professor Lyra was like her stories, only coming to life when she talked. The rest of the time, the woman sat all stony faced. Maybe it was why she liked the mythical stories in the first place, they were just like her. Not that Charley minded, really, tougher crowds had stared her down before. And she could win over the professor just the same, too.

"Charley," she answered, finally enough of interest to the starry-eyed woman to be asked her name. Nobody bothered to get hers much of the time, but sure would get on fast to boxing ears if the urchin got theirs wrong. Lyra's was easy enough with the stories she told tonight, her name was right in them, and Charley partly wondered if she'd picked it herself.

If Charley had to pick a name now, it sure wouldn't be Goode.

"Right, 'cause of the hair." Charley's lips twisted to the side, making the freckles on that side of her nose into one big smudge. "Has to be, nobody with a bleedin' mane ever gets anywhere but Gryffindor." The day she had been sorted at Hogwarts, Charley had known nothing about all the houses and their special little quirks. Sometimes she could swear she learned more after leaving Hogwarts than she'd ever learned at the school. And whenever the ginger-haired, freckled urchin had run into others of her sort, they always wound up being in Gryffindor somehow.

"Got yer scrappy and hard-knock sorts in Slytherin, of all houses, but mind the hat, red'll never get far from the lion's den!" Waggling a mocking finger at some unseen foe, the original Gryffindor maybe, Charley laughed at her own amusement. She glanced at the woman to take stock of her audience, just in case there was a smile on that stony facade yet. The urchin could sit here 'til sunup with the odd minder if she really wanted that, but it didn't mean she wasn't going to amuse herself in the meantime.

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   Themis Lyra

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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.

An orphan or a child of the streets, then. Themis's heart seized at both possibilities. The world was a cold enough place for a young girl without the concerns of survival. Still, she was not naive. It was entirely possible this little rascal was here to pick pockets. The girl hadn't made a definitive move on which to pass judgment. For now, Themis would watch.

"Pleased to meet you, Charley. My name is Themis Lyra." She chuckled at the girl's assessment of her sorting. "I think the Sorting Hat may consider other factors, but you may be right." Themis was going to have this playing through her head in September; she needed to test Charley's theory now. "You know, when I was sorted, I had red hair, too. Perhaps that does make us lions." Themis added with a conspiratorial wink.

As much as she wanted to entertain, she needed to know more about the child's situation. It was past eleven when she had thanked the attendees and wished them goodnight. It was nearing midnight now. "As brave as we Gryffindors are, you shouldn't be out this late alone. Where are your guardians, Charley?" Themis had a strong feeling the answer was going to be an unfortunate one.

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   Charley Goode

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"Aha, knew I could crack that stony face of yers," Charley said to the woman's chuckle. It might not have had the sort of deeper rumble she liked to hear at a sturdy joke, that throaty tickle of amusement some adults seemed far too eager to lose as they grew older. "Wouldn't know by glancin' at ya, but I s'pose havin' had 'nuff of this hair, losin' it'd strike a bright."

The urchin would surely have a happy thought of her own if she could only rid herself of the ginger hair and freckles that marked her so eagerly in a crowd. A cap and cover helped a bit, and last winter her hair had turned a deeper red, almost nearly to brown, without the help of sunlight to cheer it up. If the professor would put out her light again, Charley's braid might just fade back to it in the starlight alone. That was a happier thought to dwell on as she thrust out her hand, willing to shake upon the introduction at last.

No one could say she wasn't polite sometimes, anyway.

Particularly when she wanted something, too. The urchin couldn't exactly put her finger on what that was tonight, but she didn't think that Professor Lyra sat down with her just for a friendly chat. The lady wanted something, or wanted her to want something, Charley couldn't quite figure which. Or what that might be, other than harping on the lack of parents. And with the rest of the night's children already whisked off away with theirs, she probably stood out quite plainly by now.

"If ya can answer that one, Professor, ya win all the galleons." That was Charley's own carnival act, the everlasting hunt for her own family. Many had tried, few had managed more than a scarce whiff of fortune in her favor. "Hogwarts don't know, an' Ministry's got nothing neither. 'Spect I'm on my own 'lest they find me first, or I get lucky. Never had no earthly of that in the first place, though, not my sort."

In the clear light of the woman's wand, the urchin shrugged her slim shoulders. Being a witch was hardly worth much if all the magic in the world couldn't bring her family back together.

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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.

At the assessment of her as 'stony faced', the commentary on her changing hair, and the delightfully colloquial way it was delivered all had her raising her eyebrows. This one was a charmer, all song, dance, and distraction. Themis was forming a clearer picture of who this girl was, at least who she had been.

Themis could have seen her in a sea of Gryffindors, a rather large year, if memory served. As Charley had said, there were always one or two copper heads of hair, but this one stood out. Themis remembered something that seemed out of place on a child's first night in the greatest of the Hogwarts houses, the tiny little twig of a girl was scowling. It mirrored the look she gave Themis now.

As she shook the offered hand, Themis felt a sense of kinship with the unorthodox urchin next to her. As a girl, Themis always chose a firm handshake over a curtsey. She also would have chosen a stable boy's clothes to her skirts, but her uncle would never have stood for that. He also wouldn't have tolerated the state of Charley's clothing. Themis collected these details, the puzzle pieces that were adding up to a very unexpected turn in her evening.

"Where do you stay, Charley? If you are certain there is no one who expects you home tonight, you may stay with me." Themis was already wondering how she was talking herself into this idea.

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   Charley Goode

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Charley gave her head a little shake, enough to rustle the braid from its resting place. A new bed and hearth wasn't the thing she was wanting, not when the flower shop treated her alright. There was no sleeping with one eye open there, nor fretting if her meager things would be stolen the next time she came back to them. The urchin had, in fact, acquired a few more items of her own in the meantime, given partly so she might stop squirreling keepsakes into the bottom of any given stack of pots in the shop as well.

"Heard of Montague's? I got me a deal with her owner, I help mind the place, run a few blooms in the day, an' it gets me a roof come night." Charley looked straight at the woman, not needing to glance about for any minder or guardian like others. "S'pose it don't sound much by yer reckonin', maybe, but I got half the slums wishin' they were me. I keep sharp 'cause some'd jump at the chance for themselves, might jump if I weren't half as clever, see?"

She kept an eye on the professor's face, watching it for the twitch or wrinkle to tell all. Those well-to-doer sorts around Hogsmeade shrunk fast when they heard the hard knock life of anyone living to the south. Most hardly ventured in as deep as the park by their lonesome, though, which already set the woman up and apart. Might be she wouldn't turn out to be the sort who thought their galleons could fix the world, one sob story at a time.

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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's lips disappeared into a thin line, her eyebrows furrowing in thought. The child's situation was dire, but not as dark as it could be. At least the girl had a safe place to sleep, or so she said. Themis resolved to visit the flower shop in the morning to find out exactly how much truth there was to the urchin's story. Themis didn't want the child to be telling the truth. In the best of all possible worlds, a frustrated parent would be storming up now, demanding to know what Miss Charley thought she was doing. The vexed adult didn't materialize.

Themis didn't need her imagination to know she was one choice away from a fate like Charley's. With the unexpected death of her parents, her mother's family had been ready to send her away to a muggle orphanage, her muggleborn father too great a sin for the family name to carry. Uncle Horace had saved her from a life of destitution, saw to her education, and loved her as a father should. Who was doing the same for young Charley?

"Charley, I want you to answer a question for me, and I want you to think carefully. If you had the option to continue your education, would you take it?" Even in the dark, Themis watched the girl for tells. Themis may be merciful, but she was no one's fool.

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   Charley Goode

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There it was, back again. The stony woman, who clearly had more on her mind than just stars and fortunes. Charley didn't mind people being unreadable like that, mostly it meant she hadn't thoroughly impressed them. This one, though, had the look that Charley minded a lot more. Her life wasn't a sob story, and nobody should think otherwise!

"I always think carefully!" Even when it didn't seem like she did. The urchin couldn't help that thoughts just came to her quickly. Like this question, which wasn't the first time she'd been thinking about school and learning. Folk around Hogsmeade were quick to tell her she wouldn't, couldn't, and shouldn't. Not for a working gal like her, not for someone so poor. Ma and Da had never needed much money to get around, so she didn't always see what the big fuss was about not having much either.

"Ya mean you'd take me back to Hogwarts with you?" Charley asked, raising an eyebrow at the professor. She raised her chin just a bit, enough to gaze out in the direction of the castle. The night was too dark to see Hogwarts from here, but the urchin had been living under its shadow —along with the rest of Hogsmeade's— for three years now.

Time and enough to think how much she'd want to be back there.

Despite her tough-skinned act, her stories about leaving, or her harsh words for the place, the urchin really did wish she could have stayed. It wasn't just all the magic, for as little as it seemed she'd learned in the school proper. The castle was also the first place that Charley had never had to sleep in a rocking wagon or in a tent, it was the first real home she'd ever had. The professor might as well ask a ghost if he wanted to feel warm again.

"Been doin' a fair bit on my own, an' Mrs. Mann's been helpin' out, too, givin' me lessons an' such. She runs the shop," Charley noted evenly, trying to keep the hard feelings out of her voice. She'd been doing her best, even Mrs. Mann had said so lately...when the shop manager wasn't fretting over something the urchin had overlooked in the shop somehow. "Heard the Ministry'll give me a paper if I keep at it, so's I can do magic on the job. Even Mrs. Mann thinks I'm close."

Charley had only been hearing that for months now, and her only hope now seemed to be that an owl had eaten it on the way.

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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.

If the topic was of any less import, Themis would have laughed at the girl's rebuke. She didn't have the heart to tell the child that thinking up a justification after the fact wasn't the same as thinking carefully. Themis could see it in how the child moved, the inherent restlessness in her that felt painfully familiar. Themis, though, had the benefit of time and experience. Themis had learned to master her impulses; she had also learned to control her tongue when it suited her.

She kept her face neutral as the ambiguity in her words caused Charley an unnecessary blow. "I am sorry, but I cannot take you back with me." The injustice of that burned deep."Were it within my power, I would make sure that you, and others like you, had the opportunity to return." It made no difference what Themis felt about Charley's situation, but it felt vital to express her sincerity. It wasn't possible to return Charley to her rightful place in the castle, but that wasn't the only way to educate the girl.

"There is a certificate to allow underage magic for your occupation, yes." Themis let her mind dance through the possibilities, the different mental maps that could lead to something. "It is still essential that you receive proper instruction." The stars were beginning to align in her mind the way they did in the skies. There was a path forward here, if Charley was ready to walk it. "If you wish, I will help you get the instruction you need." While she offered hope, Themis' voice was full of warning. "We can arrange for a safe room of your own, but I will require you to behave respectfully in my home. Can you do that for me, Charley?"

The skeptical, rational part of her brain seemed to be watching from afar. This was ridiculous; the ideas she was considering. She should speak to her son first. While Themis operated her home apart from her son's influence, it was Justin's inheritance. If she was thinking this through at all, she should be asking Samuel. It was almost thrilling to ignore the sensible reservations now lining up in mind. Themis also knew that neither man would be foolish enough to expect her to ignore a girl in need. Not on her life.

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   Charley Goode

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The words hit harder than she'd expected, but she'd expected them anyway. She'd been ready for them for a long time, really. Nobody wanted an urchin stalking the halls of their pristine castle, getting her fingers into tight spaces, asking too many prickly questions. Her jaw tightened, with her teeth clenching all tight and hooked together, leaving no space for anything to leak through.

Charley wasn't the leaky sort, anyway, not like the other girls.

"Nah, en't found a spell yet that'll give a cove some new mind 'bouta thing," she said, almost spitting the words. Charley swallowed, feeling only a little lump sitting inside her throat. Her arms folded across her chest, and she put her chin up by another notch. "Nobody's changin' for women or poor folk, an' leastwise not for anyone who's both."

That was just the way things were. It wasn't up to anyone like her or Professor Lyra to change it, and plenty got in trouble for trying anyway. She saw that enough just from the counter of a flower shop. Flowers always wound up in the arms of ladies sobbing about their life gone awry or sitting on tables in a house where somebody died. They weren't the sort of thing that could do a lick about the problems, either, just look pretty while everything else wilted.

Charley wasn't the prettiest sort for looking, but she knew enough not to wilt around bad news.

She almost did when the woman changed her tone. Charley could hear that before anything else, before the words drifted across from somewhere in the dark. Had they come like that otherwise, in the dark with no one around, she would have waved them away. Those were pieces of dreams from long ago, little hopes that wiggled into her head when she wasn't looking. Nothing serious, nothing really real.

"Yer home?" The urchin couldn't help but wrinkle her nose at the thought, just for the briefest of moments. Trying to think about herself around the finer things someone like the professor owned was an odd thought. Even the times she'd been at some snooty rich bloke's house, it was only ever as a visitor. Not even a guest, really, and not, absolutely not, as somebody with a room. "Why wouldja ever want me there? En't like I'm gonna steal yer things or nothing, I'd promise that, but yer sort don't really take to mine. Not like yer sayin', 'cept if yer sayin' it that way. Don't want nobody touchin' me."

A Hogwarts professor didn't seem the sort, really, but Hogwarts professors came in all shapes. She'd seen scarred faces and one she swore was part Goblin, all wandering about Hogsmeade before they sauntered back up to the castle. For what little she knew about what went on up there, Charley was pretty happy not knowing much more. Until now, anyway, and she stared right into at Professor Lyra's eyes with a final, burning, question. "Don't got a house elf, do ya?"

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   Themis Lyra

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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.

By the light of the stars and her wand, she saw the girl take her words like a curse. It angered her, that she had caused harm, that telling the truth to a child should injure her. To be where she was, the world had thrown enough at this child, and she didn't need Themis making it worse. At least, there was a way she could make amends in this.

Whether it was the mother in her or the Gryffindor, she saw a cub in need. With a flick of her wand, the illumination at the tip floated above them, casting a pale glow over the two lionesses. Sheathing her wand at her hip, Themis bent, her hands on her knees as she intentionally met the child eye-to-eye. "Then we change, Charley. We adapt. We grow and we learn until the day comes when no one can ignore you."

From this vantage, she could see the confusion override the heartache in those spunky eyes. Confusion became questions and some delightful supposition. Good, curiosity was a strong place to start. Sadly, that curiosity took a dark turn. Themis felt her stomach turn at the possibilities Charley listed. It was easy to promise, "You will be safe in my home. No one would dare it. I promise you that. And, just maybe, you and I might have more in common than you know."

Giving the girl back her space, Themis rose, her chuckle warm in relation to the cooling night. "I do have a house elf, yes. I am sure she will be happy to meet you. She may dote on you; she still treats my son like he's a boy." She added the last conspiratorially. Themis still remembered scolding Justin for having cocoa and biscuits brought to him after bedtime. She also pretends not to notice when she sees the same treats in her son's study now.

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   Charley Goode

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