when she smiles | charlie

[Jameson Hera Blishwick]

no care in the world.

feb 2028

THE WALK FROM HOGSMEADE STATION TO THE Magical Rehab Centre was no joke. Jimmie's robe kept getting caught on the cobblestones, but she had been determined to make the journey on foot. The wards around the centre, as well as the very meticulous process of smoothing her short blonde hair, were both obstacles not to be trifled with. So, she strolled through the once familiar village. Her head turning to catch the newly renovated Hogwarts looming in the distance. Her companion quill rolled up and tucked in to the front pocket of her pressed robes.

The visit was work related, of course. Nothing pleasurable about getting elbow deep in a paddock of injured Abraxan foals. Personally, she couldn't think of anything worse. It was an exposure piece for the Rehab Centre, something small leading up to a few good donor weeks. Something to get the masses feeling just guilty enough to give a few extra sickles and galleons to the helpless creatures. It wasn't a subject Jimmie found particularly interesting, but it was her first solo piece since she'd begun her internship. A piece of writing she could offer her mentor and maybe get her name on a by-line.

Passed the rehab's wards, Jimmie took the long dirt pathway down towards the gates. She was met there by a fellow so tall looking up made her feel almost dizzy, his hands and ankles all tangled in grey strings - friendly, then. "You're not Charlie." She sniffed, which was met with a heart laugh and a guilty nod. "I was told I'd be shown the Abraxan's by a... uh, Charlie Weekly." She crossed her arms, feeling a lick of impatience curl in her stomach. Jimmie did not look impressed, but the man seemed unperturbed, informing her easily that he was just on his way out, and the famous Charlie would meet her inside at the information desk. "Oh..." Jimmie's defence deflated and she uncrossed her arms, "Right enough."

Slipping past the walking sun shade, Jimmie threw herself up the pathway with gusto. The heel of her brogue catching on a loose rock and almost throwing her into the doorway of the Information Centre. "Oof," Jimmie huffed, catching her hand on the doorframe with a grunt. Lifting her foot and balancing it on her knee as she attempted to dislodge the offending rock. "Would you just-" Jimmie said through ground teeth, dropping her foot with a smack and sending the rock skittering across the steps. With a huff, she shook out her blonde hair and looked up, only to stutter when Charlie was stood right in front of her. "Oh..." She smoothed her hair behind both ears nervously. "Hello..."

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[charlie marie weekly]

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Merlin, the poor Abraxan foals that had come in were not in the best shape at all. Unfortunately there was still enough of an illegal breeding practice in Europe to warrant the seizure of such a large amount of them, and the rehab center decided to take the majority of them in. Some were ill, quarantined away from the rest, others in critical condition from being kept in living quarters that no creature should ever be forced into. None of them knew of a life outside of that until now, and trying to build trust with each of them was extremely difficult. And who could blame them? Humans had done nothing but abuse and mistreat them in their short lives. Charlie knew she'd be wary too if some unknown person put her into a new place under lock and key with only a few other foals around. Thankfully a couple had started to come around and it seemed like they were communicating this to the rest. Still, Charlie had barely slept over the past week, mostly staying in one of the overnight rooms at the center so that she was close if needed. She was exhausted and stressed to the max.

Of course, the Daily Prophet caught wind and wanted to run a story on it. Something about doing it to bump up the donations for the center. That was all well and nice, but she really didn't have the energy right now to flaunt the serious work they were doing to some reporter. Supposedly she'd asked her supervisor multiple times who it was that was being sent, and she'd been told each time. In her delirious state, she missed it every single time she was told. All she knew was that she was supposed to meet the reporter at the information desk in the front, and then go from there. Stumbling up there after drinking her third coffee of the morning in an attempt to keep her eyes open, Charlie watched as someone started to enter the building. She was clearly seeing a mirage right? That whomever this was being sent by the Daily Prophet, it wasn't Jimmie Blishwick?

Staring dumbly at the other girl, Charlie didn't immediately respond. She was too preoccupied watching Jimmie push her hair back. "Hel-Hello," she cleared her throat. The mirage spoke too! Auditory hallucinations was a new symptom apparently. "They didn't tell me you'd be the reporter covering this..."

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[Jameson Hera Blishwick]

no care in the world.

feb 2028

THE SIGHT OF CHARLIE WEEKLY ACTUALLY MADE Jimmie feel a little bit sick. Her stomach dropped into the soles of her pernickety shoes and she stalled in the doorway. Charlie stood in a tangle of sunny blonde hair, always just a little shy of total homeless disaster. She pulled it off, naturally. Her outfit smudged with dirt and a pair of wrangling leather gloves incasing her hands and making her wrists look very fine and feminine by comparison, which shouldn't have been possible. Jimmie cleared her throat, averting her gaze immediately.

"Hi- I mean..." Jimmie shook her head, hating her lack of eloquence. It was the nerves of the job, her first solo piece. That's all it could be, and the unnatural February heat. "Nice to see you, Charlie." She tried for a smile, but it felt a little too large, warranting a quick correction to rein it in. "They told me it'd be you." Jimmie replied, admitting her intel with a sort of fizzing humiliation. Did she look eager? She certainly hoped not. That wouldn't be very 'cool, aloof reporter' of her. Shifting from foot to foot, Jimmie gave herself a good internal shake.

"Have you worked here long, Charlie?" She asked, course correcting herself. She had come to work, not fumble over her words like a hapless First Year. She was better than that. Her smile went cold, professional. The kind she used on the unassuming before they spilled their best quotes for little more than a knut for a free cup of coffee. "Do you have a special interest in Abraxan rescues?" There was something shallow about the question, as if Charlie hadn't very deliberately and happily taken up the suggestion of being shown around by a junior researcher. 'Someone who knew how to muck in', she'd reasoned with her boss. More 'her speed'. 

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[charlie marie weekly]

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To be fair on her supervisor's part, Charlie had been told multiple times over the last few days that Jimmie was the one that would be covering the story and she had simply been too out of it to even comprehend. Which was definitely for the best. Considering her current state, having her nerves shooting through the roof while beyond stressed with the foals, would not have been a good combination. Clearly this was not a mirage though, and Jimmie was standing right in front of her. Her tired eyes and sleep-deprived brain were not betraying her for once. In the moment, she desperately wished that the center had given her more time to get the abraxan foals into better shape (and so she could have proper sleep) before doing this. She wanted to have enthusiasm and show what she was normally like to Jimmie. Not this half-awake, inferi-like state she was currently in. Merlin's beard...

"Almost a year...since graduation," she answered. "The Center has a great reputation, so I figured it would be worth it to come back and work here." Charlie didn't dare give her actual reason for returning to the UK. Yes it was easier because Monday was here and the family technically still had the apartment they'd all shared while at Hogwarts. The US had similar programs to the Center as well, all of which Charlie knew she could have interned at if she had applied. But coming back was because of her tiny little obsession with the Blishwick girl. Now she was forced to work with her and simultaneously try to keep it all together for the entirety of this interview.

It took a moment for her to process what Jimmie was asking, most of her focus going to the way the other girl suddenly got very serious as the work questions began. If she hadn't been so exhausted, she probably would have outright asked her out on the spot. "Not particularly. We tend to rotate around depending on what creatures are being rehabilitated." Motioning for Jimmie to follow her, she started off towards where the goals were being kept. That's what the other girl was here for, after all. It wasn't to spend all of her time having Charlie staring dumbly at her. "I typically work the our more reptilian guests...dragon eggs, moke, firedrakes. But the Abraxan are a special case and need around the clock care. So yeah..." And that was why she was on the case. Someone had to throw their hat in, and it looked good for her to be working so closely with them. As much as she preferred lizards, snakes, and baby dragons, it was sort of nice to take care of an animal that didn't try to bite or light her on fire.

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[Jameson Hera Blishwick]

no care in the world.

feb 2028

THE ACCOMPANYING QUICK-QUILL DID A 360° OF Jimmie's head before settling by her left ear. She heard the rhythmic scribble begin as it was instructed to begin taking notes as Charlie answered Jimmie's first inquiries. She eyed it nervously, the notebook seeming to quiver in the air, as if influenced by the unusual tension that shrouded the room. Jimmie cleared her throat, shifting her gaze back to Charlie as she crossed her arms and nodded her head encouragingly.

"So I've heard," She agreed, thinking of the reserves historic reputation for large donations and catch and release policies. It was a popular destination for High Wizarding altruism and educational day trips. Especially with its proximity to the prolific wizarding school. Jimmie thought, however, that Charlie's answer lacked bite. Of course it had a great reputation, but was that really the only reason she'd come to work there? She stored it away, refraining from the deluge of personal questions she wished to ask. Instead, she nodded mutely as Charlie explained more and begun to move through the small information center. Jimmie watched Charlie talk about reptiles, her face splitting into a grin that made Jimmie feel sick all over again. She blinked, shifting her gaze as she remembered she was there to record information for an actual article.

The wall was covered in moving pieces of ink and charts with names and starred stickers. She blinked at it, the information slowly leaking into her brain. "Oh..." Jimmie's mouth rounded in an interested circle. She pulled a compact camera from her pocket, nothing like Rafe's. It was a glorified piece of junk to work in magical areas. She wound a little lever at the side and took a very quick snapshot to use later. It was a cacophony of messy instructions, with names scrawled and moving all over the charts. Addendums noted in little yellow sticky notes, scrawled with various hands, Detailing new dressings, treatment plans and even little smiley faces - although they were typically doodled on notes signed 'Eli', whose handwriting was practically illegible. Jimmie leaned in to scan them hungrily, a sucker for information. Charlie's name was often paired with another, a 'Bran', who seemed to have the tightest, smallest handwriting she'd ever seen.

"So..." She leaned back, her quick-quill going into overdrive as it fought to detail Jimmie's observations and Charlie's answers as quickly and succinctly as possible. It was better to have too much than too little to work with, plus Jimmie was still refining it. "You don't usually care for the Abraxan rescues." Jimmie echoed Charlie's confession with a soft frown, it was the foals she was interested in. The rescue had been very well publicised, a rarity to find so many of the beasts in such a terrible condition. "You just... specialise in 24 hour care?" Jimmie lifted her brows, briefly turning her head to look at the shift chart once again. She lifted a finger and ran it very slowly over the space as she read it. "You work a lot," She noted, feeling her edges loosen as she shifted closer to Charlie inadvertently. "Don't you have a life outside of the reserve?" She teased, her cheeks a bit pink as she dared to ask. 

charlie marie weekly

NEVERLAND at ADOXOGRAPHY 2.0!

[charlie marie weekly]

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Maybe if she hadn't been begging to see the back of her eyelids and the reporter hadn't been Jimmie, she probably would have fought against taking pictures of the medical charts as they passed by them. There wasn't anything of particular interest on there, aside from the creatures they were rehabbing and each of their specific medical plights. But the animals were their patients in a sense, and that sort of thing deserved protecting. The real worry that she had was if poachers knew of certain animals being cared for, and then having them try to break in and kidnap said creature. That was the last thing they needed. Of course, that had never happened as far as she was aware, but it was beaten into their heads fairly frequently during initial training. Dragon eggs were the biggest worry by far.

"Right," Charlie responded as she stopped walking to allow Jimmie take the pictures. "We have people that specialize in equine, but they can't be on call all night. So that's why I'm here..." She was technically qualified to talk on Abraxan, there just happened to be employees that were better suited for long term care. That and she was still sort of the rookie. Picking up the horrible night shifts was sort of what she had to do if she wanted to make a career out of this. "I mean, my specialty is reptiles, but yeah I guess," she corrected Jimmie before starting to walk again.

The other girl's next comment definitely stung. If she was more awake, she probably could have brushed it off. But in her current state, it cut a lot deeper than it was probably intended to. "I...no, not really. Wish I did but..." Hopes and dreams stayed as that as long as she was stuck here committing to constant animal care: hopes and dreams. "Sort of hard to when I work a lot," she repeated back Jimmie's own words.

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[Jameson Hera Blishwick]

no care in the world.

feb 2028

THE OFFICE SPACE ALMOST SPOKE FOR ITSELF. A crowd of information that leaked from the very walls. Jimmie noted that it was sort of nice, less clinical than she had imagined it to be. Picturing an impersonal clean tile, when in fact it was far more of the friendly sort, a choreographed mess of personalities and ideas. Which, privately, she noted made a lot of sense for Charlie. She'd always been the personal type, which is half the reason Jimmie figured she stiffened up so much in her company.

Just as Jimmie went to tuck her camera away with a small smile, she caught sight of a moving picture pinned to the bottom of a white board. Charlie with her hair caught in a great wind, a scaled green dragon egg smoking in her gloved hands. A tall figure crouched by the edge of what Jimmie presumed was a nest, which gleamed red like new coal, the tip of a very large, quivering wing just visible in the corner. It should've been odd, maybe even a little menacing to picture two people grinning so madly right by something so terribly dangerous. Instead, the sincerity of it all made her feel a little queasy with the niceness of it all. She had to tear her gaze away, blinking rapidly as she noted Charlie had stopped to let her catch up.

"Oh-" She cleared her throat hastily, hand tucked half in her pocket as she nodded to appear as if she were listening intently. "Well, I suppose that makes sense." Jimmie's steps were a little hesitant as she walked to her side again. The rhythmic scraping of her quill itching her ear as it settled into a frenzy. "So, your quite broadly trained then?" Jimmie assumed, brows lifting as she tried not to appear too impressed by the notion. "Do you find the Abraxan's a nice change in pace?" She couldn't help asking, "I mean, the reports say the animals are in quite poor condition." Jimmie let her eyes stray out towards the back of the room, the door opened at the top. A half-door that seemed more apt in a farmhouse than an office, but somehow perfectly in place where it was. "Must be something of a challenge, even for you." She quirked her brows in something close to teasing.

The schedule was very telling, but Jimmie was mostly delaying the interview as she knew what would come next. She'd have to take her very expensive shoes and trudge in the mud to look at a bunch of sickly magical horses. It wasn't that she wasn't interested, but she dreaded it all the same. Jimmie felt sure she'd make a fool of herself. She smoothed a hand down her hair, turning to look at Charlie and freezing in place. Charlie looked stiff, her shoulders bunched and her mouth red where she'd gnawed on her lip. Jimmie ran over what she had said, wondering what exactly she had done to up the tension tenfold. She almost flinched, nose scrunching as Charlie attempted to defend her work/life balance. It was none of Jimmie's business, and yet she hadn't been able to help herself.

"I was... that was a bad joke." Jimmie apologised, her smile sheepish as she stepped instinctively closer. Jimmie turned and reached over the desk she had been staring at, plucking that picture of Charlie and her dragon egg and turned back to brandish it as proof. "I mean, does this look like the face of someone who has no life?" She raised her brows, giving a slight laugh as she turned it to look at it once again. "I guess I just meant your life must sort of... be your job." She clarified, smiling back at Picture-Charlie. "You must love it a lot." 

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[charlie marie weekly]

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”Hoping to be, since I’m technically still in training…” Charlie answered. That was the goal of her apprenticeship at least. School could only cover so much about magical creatures, and despite taking as many classes as possible between Hogwarts and Ilvermorny (and her own self-study, of course), so now she was onto the next step. The facility had been great so far though, and the amount of knowledge Charlie had gained in such a short amount of time was astounding. Hands on was definitely the way to go, especially when every day quite literally brought something new. Sometimes it was watching dragon eggs hatch, others it was helping a hippogriff molt. ”They sort of are. Less dangerous to work with and helping them heal has been…fulfilling.” Getting them back to a point where they could function on their own and be without supervision was the goal though. With how many nights had been touch and go, she was looking forward to that. And a full night of restful sleep. ”Trying to stay awake is more difficult,” she added with a small but exhausted chuckle.

Charlie knew that Jimmie didn’t mean it, but convincing her exhausted, sleep-deprived brain that it didn’t mean anything more was difficult. She watched as the reporter pulled a photo off of the board – one where Charlie was with a dragon egg she had helped observe and hatch – and could feel her face start to burn slightly at the compliment. Even if it wasn’t supposed to be that, hearing it come from Jimmie was enough for her to convince herself that it was. ”It is,” she said sheepishly. ”I’ve always loved animals…so this sort of felt like the best path to follow.” And she sort of liked Jimmie a lot too, but the other girl was not getting that out of her today. ”So umm…did you want to see them? The Abraxan? Charlie offered, trying to find a way to divert the conversation away from herself.

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[Jameson Hera Blishwick]

no care in the world.

feb 2028

NODDING HER HEAD RAPIDLY, JIMMIE TRIED TO remain as cool and collected as possible. This wasn't a personal visit, even if her motivations had been mostly selfish for taking the piece to begin with. Charlie couldn't know that, that would be horrifically, career-endingly embarrassing. She drew in a sobering breath and stood very straight, her posture leaning on severe as she watched Charlie from across the cramped office. "How long is the training?" Jimmie asked, trying to seem just on the edge of uninterested as she continued to let her eyes travel the length of the room.

"And how does that work?" Jimmie asked, her notepad making a fleeting appearance as it flitted out from her pocket and began scribbling rapidly, somewhat discreetly behind her shoulder. "Is it mostly hands-on, or a lot of spell work?" She queried, entirely unaware of the aspects of magical caretaking. A subject she had never been very interested in beyond mild curiosity, the sort of thing a person watched or learned about when they wanted a bit of a self-indulgent cry at the wholesomeness of it all. "I imagine it's quite a complicated case... or... so I've heard."

Momentarily, Jimmie was distracted by Charlie's tired little laugh. She felt her voice stall, her eyes blinking as she felt her face flush. Charlie had always been painfully pretty. She had the kind of face that when it smiled, Jimmie found herself almost double-taking. She turned away, batting the notepad out of her way as she straightened a row of pens on the desk she was closest to. "I bet it is... twenty-four hour care will do that, I'm sure." Jimmie muttered absently, clearing her throat and looking up with a sobered, mild expression. The colour having faded enough to feel the coolness in her cheeks.

Afraid she had ruined everything by insulting Charlie, Jimmie had grabbed her notepad and stuffed it messily into her pocket. Brandishing the happy photograph as an almost desperate attempt to appear friendly, abandoning her professional mantra of quiet coolness for an almost pathetic pandering. She was closer now, close enough to almost brush shoulders with Charlie as she smiled tentatively, setting the photograph down on the nearest surface with an encouraging shrug. "That's not very difficult to see," Jimmie said appreciatively, stepping back and smoothing hot hands down the front of her robes. "You seem... perfectly passionate about your position." She nodded her head once and turned herself toward the exit as she pulled her notepad back out, stealing a quick breath. She did, after all, have a job to do. One she felt on the verge of ruining entirely.

"Oh-" Jimmie's heart rattled for an entirely different reason as Charlie suggested they view the creatures. A pit of dread reopened in her stomach and she turned back toward Charlie from a safer distance, nodding once, then again, as if to convince herself. "Yes, of course. I mean, that's..." Jimmie's smile was a little too large, her eyes screaming of a foreign nervousness that she covered up by sweeping her arm for Charlie to walk ahead. "Lead the way, I suppose." She sniffed once, making a last ditch attempt to smooth her hair before it was ruined for good. "Can't... wait..." She muttered under her breath. 

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”Umm…” Charlie had to think about how long her apprenticeship was supposed to take again. It really didn’t matter to her, as long as she was able to help injured and sick animals. Looking up in thought, she continued after a moment, ”Three or four years I think? It’s mostly up to the higher-ups to decide, really. But I don’t think many leave apprenticeship before that.” There were a number of employees older than her that were still apprentices, like Eli. For the amount of work she had seen him put in, it sort of amazed her that he hadn’t been promoted yet.

The rehabilitation process of magical creatures was all that different from caring for a sick person. Or at least, she assumed that it wasn’t. Because of their magical nature, most of the animals could only be cured by magic means, whether that was a routine potion or a series of spells. In the Abraxans case, it was staying up all night an monitoring them. ”Hands-on, yeah,” she answered. ”Its tough because they’re so young. We have to provide regular care, such as routine feeding, and that’s on top of the medical treatment. But, they’ve started to come around a bit this week.” Things were definitely starting to look up for a few of them though. For as touch and go as it had been at the beginning, this was the first time Charlie had been absolutely optimistic about the recovery process of the foals.

Blinking her dry, tired eyes, Charlie wasn’t immediately sure if she had the compliment correctly. Being told she was passionate about her work by the girl she liked? Had she not been ready to pass out from exhaustion, she felt like her brain would have exploded then and there. ”Th-Thank you,” she stuttered out as she was slow to process it.

Jimmie didn’t sound too thrilled to finally be entering the part where she actually got to see the Abraxan. And who could blame her? It was an unbelievably sad sight, and it took a lot to not breakdown every time she entered the paddock where they were currently kept. For as positive as she was over the last few days, it was still rough. ”I should warn you,” Charlie said almost as soon as she started to walk, ”If at any point it’s too much, just let me know. Some of them are in worse shape than others and they don’t really trust humans they don’t know. One or two might approach me, but those are the healthiest ones currently.” Calling them that almost seemed like a disservice to Jimmie, but she would see in a moment anyways. If the Daily Prophet wanted a tear-jerker of a story, they were about to get one.

Stopping in front of the double doors that led into the paddock where the rescued Abraxan foals were kept, Charlie paused one last time. She stared at Jimmie for a moment, wondering if this trauma she was about to impart on her would help or hurt any chance of getting a date someday. It was an odd thought to cross her mind, especially when the horrors of what had been done to the Abraxan were hidden just on the other side of the door. She supposed it was a defense mechanism of some sort. She’d spent so much time with them, that their horrible states they were in was normal to her now. It absolutely was not for the average person. Letting out a long, nervous exhale, she put her hand on the door and pushed it open for Jimmie.

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