Don't own anything


The orphanage was a dark, dismal place. Children from all around were terrified that their parents would die and that they would be sent to the 'old orphanage'.

It was not the only building of its kind in Cardiff, so it was a wonder that it hadn't shut yet. There were only four children there, and only two of them were guaranteed orphans. They had all arrived on unusual circumstances.

At a time when the orphanage was empty, and still being run by kindly Ms Avery, a young girl of around six, skin and bone and wearing an old-fashioned dress and wrapped in a denim jacket far too large for her had staggered into the orphanage. She'd come straight from the site of the car crash that had claimed her parents' lives. Kelly had been extremely traumatised by her ordeal, and had taken months to recover.

A year later, during a storm, Mia had arrived. She had been abandoned on the doorstep in a bundle of blankets, with a leather blue diary clutched in her tiny grasp. The parents of the child had never been located, but Mia kept the book. Her name (Mia Walsh) and her date of birth (with the year, strangely, absent) had been written neatly on the inside cover in what everyone suspected was her mother's hand.

Conor arrived when he was three. He had no clue about who he was or where he had come from. Nobody knew. Kelly (then fifteen) had christened him and taken care of him, as Ms Avery had died of pneumonia shortly after Mia's seventh birthday, and Mr Harrison (a distant relation) had taken over.

Joshua, at the age of six, had been brought to the orphanage by someone who said they were his aunt, though he did not know them, after his mother had died. His father did not want anything to do with him, so he wasn't exactly an orphan, but he called himself so. A few months on, he had identified himself as Josh, the brother of the other three.

The four 'orphans' were indeed very close. The two boys had practically been raised by Kelly, and Mia was very close to her. The two of them (seventeen and ten) mothered the two younger children, and protected them from Mr Harrison. Kelly often went hungry to ensure that the other three had food, but refused point-blank to let Mia give up her food for the boys.

"You know what," Kelly said one night, while she was brushing Mia's hair for her (Mia felt more like Kelly's younger sister when they did things such as this).

"What?" Conor asked, looking up from the picture he'd been drawing.

"I think we've got enough money to get ourselves a treat."

"Really?" Mia asked eagerly.

"Really," Kelly smiled.

They stole pennies from Mr Harrison's pocket whenever they could risk it, and hid them all under the floorboard. Mysteriously enough (all aspects of their lives were mysterious) the sum of money had almost doubled. None of the four had been able to explain it, but Mia could remember herself wishing for more money the very night before the incident.

"You don't need to worry about it," Kelly had said, after Mia had confided this. "You and I both know that we're all unusual, special."

"You're witches!" Conor had proclaimed, showing them a picture of a witch on a broomstick.

There had started Conor's obsession with witches, and Mia's increased mysteriousness.

On one occasion, she'd 'misbehaved' and been tossed into the dungeon, but she hadn't been there for long, as the door had sprung open, and she'd dashed up to the bedroom that the four of them shared despite the largeness and emptiness of the orphanage.

"Can I go?" Mia asked hopefully.

Kelly tied Mia's curly hair into a pony-tail, evidently thinking.

"Yes, you can."

"Can I wear the dress you came here in?"

Kelly looked at her. "Why would you want to wear that? It's old! You'd look like you came out of nineteen something."

"I don't care. I love it."

"It'd probably be too small."

"I'm small for my age," Mia pointed out.

"On your own head be it," Kelly sighed, laying down the brush. "If you're pushed around by some idiot boys for being old-fashioned, then it's not my fault."


It was a normal day for Mrs O' Flaherty and her daughter, Lauren. They spent the day, as usual, in their bookshop, stacking shelves and chatting pleasantly to the customers.

That was before the girl arrived.

It was nearly lunchtime, Lauren was complaining of hunger (she normally did; Lauren liked her food) and her mother assured her that they would close in ten minutes.

"It's empty!" Lauren whined.

"Ten minutes," Mrs O' Flaherty repeated, giving her daughter a stern look. Lauren desisted, heading into the back room to retrieve more books to stack.

The door opened, the bell clanging loudly, and a young girl, in an old-fashioned dress, carrying a small shopping bag entered. She only looked around eight or nine. She smiled shyly and searched around the shop.

"Can I help you, my dear?" Mrs O' Flaherty asked. The little girl looked up, strawberry-blonde curls falling across her face, from the book she'd been poring over for the past five minutes.

"I'd like to buy this," she said. Her voice was soft, shy, and she somehow seemed to draw Mrs O' Flaherty to her.

"What's your name?" she asked curiously.

"Mia Walsh," the girl said, with a small smile.

"Pleased to meet you, Mia. I'm Mrs O' Flaherty. This is Lauren."

"Hello," said Lauren amiably.

"And that book'll be two pounds."

"Oh good!" Mia exclaimed softly. "That's all I have left."

Hugging the book closely to her chest, she walked over to the counter, and dished all the money out of the pocket of her worn dress onto it.

"Thank you dear," Mrs O' Flaherty smiled, as, still hugging the book as though it were a sister, Mia left the shop.

"Who is she?" Lauren asked. She too was obviously enthralled by the young girl.

"A very special girl."


"What did you get?" the Conor and Joshua chorused immediately.

"Were you twins in a past life …?" Mia smiled, handing the carrier bag with as much chocolate as she'd been able to afford.

"Where's Kelly?" she asked them, before they ran off with their treasure.

"Talking to Mr H," said Joshua seriously.

"Yeah. About where she'll go when she gets her new birthday," Conor chipped in.

"Of course," Mia murmured. "She'll be eighteen."

The boys smiled and ran off.

"Don't let Mr H see you with chocolate!" Mia warned, following at a slower pace.

She had read the first chapter of the book she'd bought – a biography about an ordinary girl that nobody was interested in, according to the newspaper reviews. But Mia had been drawn to the book, and had bought it.

"What're you reading?"

Mia looked up to see Kelly standing there, in her usual jeans and sweatshirt, her brown hair piled into a bun.

"Something Damaged. It's a biography."

"Who about?"

"Rose Weasley," Mia replied, dropping her gaze to the book again.

"Never heard of her," Kelly said, sitting down on the bed next to her, obviously intrigued.

"It's good."

"Let me have a read, then."


Mia sat up in bed, leaning her back against the wall, staring out of the window. Joshua sat beside her, clutching her fearfully. There was a thunderstorm. Joshua was terrified of thunderstorms, but Mia loved them. By the light of the lightning, Kelly was reading more of the biography, and Conor was fast asleep – he'd sleep if the orphanage caved in.

A knock on the door echoed through the silent orphanage. Conor awoke with a jolt, Kelly laid down her book and Conor sat up, curious.

"What's going on?" Kelly whispered.

"I dunno," Mia hissed back.

She slid out of bed, and she and Kelly tiptoed onto the landing. The could see Mr Harrison talking to a stranger; a tall hooded figure.

"Why is he wearing a cloak?" Mia wondered aloud. "Looks a bit stupid."

"Says the girl who wore a dress from the nineteen hundreds."

"Shut up."

"Mia!" Mr Harrison called quite suddenly up the stairs. "I know you're up! Never miss a thunderstorm, you will. There's someone here to see you."

Mia climbed downstairs tentatively.

The stranger beckoned her into an empty room. She went in, closed the door behind her, and asked, "Who are you?"

The stranger threw back his hood. He was a tall, pale, blond young man.

"Hello Mia."

"Hello," she said politely.

"I'm Scorpius Malfoy," he said.

"How do you know me?" she asked curiously.

"Now that is quite a long story. But I'm here with a message for you, Mia."

"What?"

He smiled again. "You're not an orphan."

"How do you know?" she asked quickly.

"I've met your parents, and your grandparents, for that matter."

"Who are you?" she asked again.

"I told you."

"How do you know my family? I don't even know my family."

"Here," he said, handing her a blue leather book – her diary.

"How did you get it?"

He merely smiled mysteriously. "Open it."

She obeyed. It was the very same. Her name, her date of birth, but something was different …

It didn't read Mia Walsh, but Mia Song.


My mind comes up with crazy stuff. The end. Should I continue or delete?