It was a beautiful night, and up in the mountains, the stars shone bright and numerous. Summer nights were the best to garden by- cool, still, and well-lit. The greenhouse was illuminated by the lanterns that lined the stony path winding its way through the pots and planter boxes. Fireflies drifted lazily over the pond outside, hazy through the wispy fog.

Russel Steinar picked his way through the plants, inspecting them for weeds or bug bites. He had only been working in the greenhouse for a couple years, but he moved through the building with ease. It felt like home to him already.

He skimmed over the plants that had been there the longest- they wouldn't be going anywhere anytime soon- and soon found the patch he had planted that spring. By now, the herb box looked full of leaves, and the smell that accompanied them was getting stronger.

He kneeled down and lifted a few leaves with his gloved hand. Inspecting the dirt closely, he plucked out a few straggling weed stalks and tossed them into the mulch bucket. This close, the smell of sage, basil, and rosemary was intoxicating. The starlight filtering through the glass walls and the chirping of crickets made the scene even more enchanting.

However, the piercing shriek that echoed from outside didn't fit the mood so well.

He sighed. There goes the moment, he thought, standing to his feet. Then he was struck by the panic that comes with recognizing the cry of a child.

The tools clattered to the ground as he dashed outside. The shriek was soon followed by wailing, which made the sound easier to follow but not any more tolerable. The light of the night grew less and less visible as he entered the forest, the tall trees obscuring the undergrowth.

He dashed past trunks, hardly noticing that they became wider and wider the deeper he went. The underbrush crackled under his fast footfalls, but in his panic he didn't notice all the noise he made stumbling through the night. The only noise he heard was the infant in danger.

Louder and louder the crying grew, until he rounded a corner and, rather gracefully, tripped over a gnarled root.

Cursing, he propped up on his elbows and looked around. He was in a clearing encircled by a line of small stones, the sky visible through a wide circle of tree branches. Which was strange, considering the forest only got thicker the farther from campus it stretched. But in the center of the stone circle, covered in brush and fallen pine, was a shovel stuck upright in a dirt mound next to a shallow hole in the ground.

And the hole was crying.

He scrambled over to it, and sure enough, a naked baby was lying inside, screaming her lungs out. She was flailing in the rigid, halting manner of an infant, and her eyes were screwed shut with her mouth wide and yelling.

He stared at her in disbelief. Did someone come out to the mountains, in the middle of the night, to bury this child alive? The shovel and the pile of dirt nearby were sickening.

He pulled his dirty gloves off his trembling hands and gingerly touched the baby. She screamed louder at the feel of his cold fingers, so he quickly threw off his sweater and wrapped her in it. He picked her up and drew her to his chest. How are you supposed to hold a baby? It had been so long since his little sister had been born, he'd forgotten how. Something about supporting the neck.

"Shhh, shh, shh," he soothed, rocking the baby from side to side. "You're safe, you're safe now."

Her cries slowly subsided into snotty hiccups. Her face slackened and her breathing slowed, but her eyes still didn't open. What if she's hurt? he thought, panicking despite the cooing noises coming from his mouth. I don't know jack about babies. What if she's diseased, or freezing, or-

Leaves shifted and a stick cracked in the darkness outside of the moonlit circle.

He froze. They could be in danger. He didn't have his wand. He couldn't protect a baby and take on a wild animal, or heaven forbid an attacker, at the same time. But should he leave the girl? Maybe this was her family, someone come looking for her.

"Hello?" he said, trying to sound braver than he felt.

He looked into the darkness, eyes straining, and saw the glint of something metal, in the grasp of something human.

Then he turned and ran, baby in arms, back to Ilvermorny Castle, fast enough to not see the runes in the dirt that glowed with a fierce light before fading back into the darkness of the night.

"Russel, you have two minutes to explain why the hell you have a baby."

"Found it- there was- a hole-" he panted.

Gimsey rubbed his temples. "Why did you bring it here?"

Russel glanced up at him, then back down to the baby. "I found- a baby in the forest, Teddy- in the dead of night. Where am I supposed to bring it?"

Gimsey didn't look any less angry, but now he looked more awake. He pushed up his glasses and opened the door further, allowing Russel to rush past him into the apartment before swiftly closing it again.

"I don't know why she was there," Russel began, setting the baby gently down on the coffee table. Gimsey disappeared into his bedroom. "I heard a noise while I was gardening, and-"

"Oh it's a she, is it?" Gimsey said, setting down a few pillows before going into the bathroom. "Chrissake Russel, put it on these, don't set it on cold glass."

Russel did as he was told. "She was screaming, naked in a clearing. I thought it was weird since I didn't recognize the place. I've never seen it before."

"Was there anything else there?"

"I came here as soon as I found her, I didn't bother sticking around to find out."

"Where's your wand?"

"It's, uh," Russel said, somewhat sheepishly, "still in the greenhouse. I keep it in my toolbag while I'm working."

"You have pockets for a reason. I recommend using them."

"I'll keep that in mind."

Gimsey rounded the corner and sat on the couch, spreading bottles, jars, and Band-aids onto the table next to the child. He patted the cushion next to him. "Sit down, you're making me nervous."

Russel plopped down, never taking his eyes off the baby. He sat, quietly watching Gimsey partially unwrap the sweater and inspect her. She was fast asleep, and he couldn't help but notice how carefully Gimsey handled her. His face had even softened into a focused doctor expression. In his panic, he had forgotten how good a nurse Gimsey was.

"Good idea, running her here instead of Apparating to the hospital wing," Gimsey murmured, picking her up and turning her this way and that. "She's freezing, she might not have made it across campus, nevermind magical transit. How long was she out there?"

"I dunno." He paused, then said softly, "I think someone was trying to bury her alive."

"What?!" Gimsey looked at him. His eyes were wide with horror, but he quickly turned back to the baby and started applying whitish-green salve to her chest. "And you took her?!"

"It wasn't right, Teddy."

"Is that why you came so quickly? Did you see them? Did they attack you?"

"I saw a figure. Didn't have a wand. I think it had a knife, though."

"A knife- chrissake Russ-!"

"Is she okay?"

Gimsey looked up, exasperated. His expression softened when he saw the worried look in Russel's eyes. "She's not bleeding or bruised, but she might get sick. It's not good for a baby to be out in the cold that long."

"What're you putting on her? It smells like my garden."

"Bálsamo de alivio, soothing salve. It's made from all kinds of stuff, but you're probably just smelling the sage," Gimsey said. "It's pretty strong."

He rolled her over to take the blanket off and froze. "What's this?"

On her back there was a strange mark. It looked like a mix between a birthmark and a scar, but the skin around it puckered like it was fresh. It was shaped like a broken sword, spanning down the length of her spine with the hilt between her shoulders and the blade shattered toward the small of her back.

They sat quietly for a moment. Gimsey set her down and slowly lowered his head into his hands.

Russel broke the silence. "This wasn't made by a no-maj."

"Cursed!" Gimsey said, throwing up his hands. "You found a cursed child and saved it!" The baby woke up at the sound of his raised voice and made a startled noise.

"I couldn't just leave her there to die!"

"What are we supposed to do now? We can't send it to no-majes. Turn it in to MACUSA and they'll probably finish what that person in the woods started-"

"We are not turning her in."

"If we give it to foster care, no one in their right mind will take it!"

"She deserves a family. She's just a child, Teddy. She hasn't done anything wrong."

"How do you know that?" he cried. He buried his face in his hands.

Russel sat there for a moment, looking intently at the baby. She looked up with wide eyes, not scared, but curious. Innocent.

"I'll take her."

"Excuse me?"

Russel stood up, re-wrapping the baby in his sweater. "I'll take care of her. I'll talk to the headmaster, say that I'm a father now. He doesn't know about my personal life, I- I could play it off."

Gimsey looked up at him. "Russel, you just turned 25. Everyone here knows you. You expect anyone to believe you just up and had a-"

Russel looked him in the eyes, and Gimsey stopped. He was so determined, so reserved to this decision that he knew nothing he could say would make a difference. But behind his eyes, there was fear. He didn't know what he was getting himself into.

He came to you, Theodore. He trusts you. Do something. This is your chance.

Gimsey closed his eyes. His head was throbbing, he was sleep-deprived, and not in any shape to put up a fight.

He needs you. It's Russel. Sweet, wonderful, naive Russel.

"Look," Russel said, "I'm not asking you to help me. This can be the last time I ask you for anything. Thank you for looking at her, taking care of her, but your involvement can end here."

Infuriatingly stupid Russel.

Russel turned to leave, and made it all the way to the door until he heard, "Wait. Russ."

He set his jaw and turned around. Gimsey motioned him over, but he didn't budge. Gimsey sighed in exasperation.

"If you're going to pull this off, you're going to need to get your story straight. And learn how to handle a baby. You're crazy if you think you can do this on your own. Let me help you."

Russel grinned. He knew he'd come around. He sat on the couch next to the tired man with the glasses, and the baby gurgled happily.

Gimsey's exhausted face looked at the baby gazing back at him, then softened. He stuck his hand out to tuck the sweater under her chin, but she reached out and grasped his thumb. Russel watched him break into a smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling. He looked his age when he smiled. Younger, more hopeful.

But the smile didn't last. "What happened to your arms?"

Russel looked down at his forearms, now bare without the cover of his sweater. They were covered in bleeding cuts and scrapes, dirt clinging to his skin. "Huh. I didn't notice. Must have been when I tripped."

Gimsey gently used his other hand to pry off the baby's and stood up. "C'mon, your turn to get fixed up."

Russel looked at him, then back down at the baby. "I'm okay here."

Gimsey rolled his eyes. "I said come on. She'll be fine. Let me help you, too."

Russel sighed in defeat and set her down in the crook of the couch. He gave her one last longing look. She looked back at him with her green eyes wide with wonder. Wonderful.

Once Gimsey saw him move, he walked back into the bathroom to grab larger wrappings. As he opened the medicine cabinet, he called, "What's her name going to be?"

Russel paused, then said, "How about Sage?"

Gimsey paused too, then snorted. "You're such a nerd."