A/n: Hi again! So I had some family issues to deal with and this is late, but it's here! We'll see if I can't get chapter three up sooner!

Length? I know nothing about a designated chapter length for this story; I'm basically going off whatever ideas I have for each chapter.

Thanks to my beta Hunter's Heir!


Disclaimer: Chapter titles are now going to be based off the song "With Arms Wide Open" by Creed. Enjoy!


"Well, this is just lovely," Hermione said, sitting down on the steps in front of her shop. "Just bloody lovely! What are we supposed to do now Malfoy, hmm? That kid isn't ours, and now we have to file a stupid report on your supposed "attack"."

"It did happen Granger, no matter how much you might disagree. I didn't see you running alongside me, so just shut up about it. You weren't just chased down numerous streets by some crazy guy with a knife!" He waved his arms around, trying to make it obvious that this was indeed a big deal.

"No, you're right, I just had someone throw-"

"Would you shut up about that already!? I was trying to be a hero."

She snorted. "It's going to take more than that to get hero marks, you know."

His eyes darkened at that in the streetlight. "Yes, I know," he spat, his tone growing hostile. Her eyebrows rose high on her head at that, listening to him speak so gruffly about such a simple compliment. She knew he got a recognition that he didn't care for, but she didn't think after so long that anything from the war that minor would rub him the wrong way. Apparently, she was wrong.

There was a pause between them before Hermione forced herself to stand up. "Well, let's go back in and talk to her. We aren't getting anywhere out here."

"Really now?" he said sarcastically, crossing his arms as they walked back in. The girl was staring up at a shelf at the front of Hermione's store, and Draco quickly realized it was a bookstore as the door shut behind him.

How cliché.

She turned around, grinning widely as she realized they had returned. "Hi again!" she said, grasping her hands together as she looked between the two. They exchanged a brief glance.

"Well, Abigail, it seems like you know who we are. How about you tell us something about yourself; got a last name?" Hermione elbowed the blonde, thinking that his wording was completely inconsiderate of the girl's feelings.

"No," she replied, shaking her head as she reached into her coat for something. Again, the adults exchanged a glance. "Look, I have you two!"

Before Draco could whip out something inconsiderate to say to that comment, the girl pulled out some articles and held them up, drawing their attention. They both leaned in to study the pieces of paper before Hermione gently took them from her hand.

They were articles on her, Draco, and all of their friends right after the war. The papers were several years old by now, having been through quite a bit considering how torn they were. There were separate articles on each of them, their faces plastered somewhere across the folded sheet. Hermione frowned at this, peering back at the little girl strangely. She'd seen people collect things on them before and found it slightly tiresome, but this was different she felt.

Grazing her finger over the paper she could feel the scattered bits of hardened paper, and knew the texture came from water. There were little differences like that all over the articles, and she realized they must've been made by tears. But why would she have tears all over some paper about joy?

"Where did you get these?" she asked, scrunching up her nose as she looked back at the little girl. "The war… it was years ago. You would've been an infant when the final battle happened, and you probably have no memory of the entire event. So how do you know who we are? These were some of the first reports printed."

She grinned up widely at them. "My mommy gave them to me!"

"Who's your mother?" Draco asked, jumping into the conversation. Now that she was finally discussing her parents, he wanted to keep her talking before she blocked out that method of conversation again.

The girl's eyes dropped, and Draco groaned, wishing the girl would just tell them who she was. At his side, he could see Granger crossing the papers aside, resting her arms together as though she was thinking.

"Do you know your last name?"

"You already asked that," she pouted.

Hermione smiled at the girl softly, bending down to her height. "I know, but I just want to help you out. You must miss your home."

"No," she said, turning her nose up, "I hate my home!"

"Well, I'm sure you don't mean that," the woman reasoned, completely oblivious to the blonde behind her that was shaking his head, knowing she wasn't going to get any further than he did. "Sometimes we just don't like our homes."

"No," she snapped, balling up her hands as she looked back at Hermione. "No one likes me there! And no one ever wants me! Nobody ever wants an orphan!"" Without waiting for the woman's surprised response, she ran off behind the counter into the back, leaving the two adults in her wake.

Slowly, Hermione turned to Draco. "No wonder she's sad; we keep asking an orphan about her parents!"

He rolled his eyes. "Well, how was I supposed to know that? It's not like I ask people all the time if they're orphans or not. I wasn't trying to be a jerk, unlike you."

She crossed her arms. "I'm not being a jerk! I'm just saying that we're not going to get anywhere with her if we ask her things that upset her. The best we can even do is attempt to figure out which orphanage she is living at and try to get her back there." Hermione shook her head. "Merlin, this is like kidnapping!"

Draco looked appalled. "I did not kidnap the girl! She ran into me! Besides, I saved her from some sort of monstrosity, so this is more like a recusing than a kidnapping."

"Oh, you rescued her from the dark!"

"For the last time Granger, there was something out there tonight! I don't honestly know why I'm so concerned whether or not you believe me, since you never have believed anything I say. Let's just go talk to the bloody girl and get this over with. Tonight has been strange enough; I just wanted to go on a walk."

"In Diagon Alley?" she asked, sounding unconvinced with his explanation for being there tonight. "Let's be honest Malfoy, I don't really care why you're down here. We just need to talk to her and sort things out, logically."

He snorted in response, but she ignored him as she walked off towards the backroom Abigail had wandered into. Malfoy followed, much to her disdain, since this was her personal shop after all and she wasn't comfortable with just anyone wandering around behind the desk. She'd have to watch him closely.

Behind the counter they found the girl sitting just inside the doorway to the backroom, her head resting on her knees, her papers resting on the ground beside her. Hermione stepped in first, immediately sitting beside the child. The blonde that followed her opted to remain standing a few feet back by the counter, close enough to listen but not near enough to closely interact.

"Abigail?"

"Go away. I don't like you anymore."

Without bothering to look up at Malfoy, she gently picked the papers up and rested them on the girl's head, something that caused her to look up at the slight weight, and the papers fell. She was quick to catch the child's news articles, less she upset her more.

"I think you still like us a little bit," she argued, playfully smiling at the girl. Although Abigail was looking at her, the brunette couldn't see an ounce of amusement in her face.

"You won't like me though," she said, setting her chin on her knees again. "No one likes orphans."

"That's completely untrue!" Hermione argued, set in stone on getting this girl to quit pouting. "One of my very best friends in the world is an orphan, and a lot of people like him. He's one of the most famous people on the planet, marveled all over. You can't say that no one likes orphans."

"He's different!" she snapped, looking away from Hermione to Draco's shoes. "He's powerful, and great, and friendly. And his parents were rich! I don't have money; I'm not friendly. Nobody likes me."

"Well, I like you," she argued again, wrapping an arm around the girl. "Malfoy likes you too."

"I-"

"Don't you Malfoy?" she hissed as the child looked up hopefully from the blonde's shoes to his face. Glancing sideways at his former classmate, he realized he was either going to answer correctly or face a long 'Granger-rant' like he had heard about during school. Hopefully, he could avoid that punishment.

"Of course," he replied, giving the child a crooked smile. "What's not to like? You turned my midnight walk into a real cardio workout, what with the running, the jumping, the hexes, oh, and of course when I got to partake in this lovely banter with Gra-"

"See, he likes you," she said, speaking over the male. "People like people no matter where they live."

"Really?"

"Really, really," Hermione replied, eyeing Draco over the child's head now. "But it's very late Abigail. We should be getting you back before someone worries."

Immediately, the child's expression dropped, but Hermione tried not to focus on it too much as she hauled the girl up, handing her the articles as she stood. Once more, the girl tucked them into a pocket in her worn coat.

"I don't want to go back."

"They're going to be worried," the brunette pointed out again as she led the girl back to Draco. "And now there are two of us watching you on the way back, so the shadows won't stand a chance."

To that, her mood perked up a bit. "Really?"

"Of course! So why don't you lead the way, or do you know the name of the orphanage honey?"

If the word sparked any emotion in her she didn't let on, and merely hopped to the door and pushed it open, pausing to glance their way. "We have to go; you must meet them!"

"Who?" the blonde asked, afraid of her answer. After the experience he had earlier, he really wasn't interested in meeting anyone else. From the corner of his eye he could see Granger snatching up a bag, moving to stand near him. A set of keys lay in her hand.

"The other kids!" she cried, throwing her hands up as though it should be obvious. "At the orphanage! They will flip if I bring you there! I can't wait."

"It's the middle of the night," Hermione pointed out, letting the two leave her shop before she locked up, her body not nearly as tense as the blonde's.

"So? I'll wake them up! They have to meet you!" Snatching up both the adults' hands, she pulled them out into the street, starting up a conversation neither of them understood. It was apparent however, that she wasn't panicking anymore, and at least seemed to know where she was going. That set the adults minds at ease a bit, considering the night they both had already had.

Nothing else needed to happen to make tonight any longer, or weirder.


Hermione looked around, cringing at the interior of the building as they waited just inside the door for the administrator of the orphanage to make an appearance. A child older than Abigail greeted them at the door originally, but hostile eyes and bony fingers made the woman feel uncomfortable, and she desired specifically to speak to the owner of the poor establishment. Why Malfoy continued to stay, she didn't know.

The entire place was in shambles, with the ceilings high but appearing to be about to cave in, the paint chipped on the walls, the furniture covered in dust that was possibly older than she was. The floor was worn and covered in dirt, with rugs that were so old she didn't understand why someone didn't just throw them out. Glancing at the blonde, she realized he looked quite horrified by the building and grinned. Well, at least she wasn't the only appalled one, and this probably poked at his high expectations, possibly scaring him more than it did her.

Neither of them really knew anything about the system orphaned children went through in the magical world. Harry was placed specifically- and in a muggle home no less- and never experienced this. Part of Hermione wondered if all the orphanages in town looked like this, or if that was just stereotypical. Sure, the war cost Britain heaps of money, but they couldn't be establishments like this from having semi-decent funds, right?

"Ah, Hermione," came a voice, one which startled the girl. Glancing over at a door on the far side of the room, both adults watched a girl appear from the shadows, her clothing matching none of the décor around them. She actually looked well dressed, cleaned up, wearing fine clothing. It was quite uncomfortable to see the woman dressed like that, and have Abigail wearing such rags.

But Hermione knew that face, and it alarmed her a bit to realize who it was. "Hannah? Hannah Abbott?"

"It's me," she said, holding her arms out wide, as though there was something worthwhile to look at in their surroundings currently. "What brings you down here to Bainbridge Orphanage at such a late hour?"

"We're bringing someone back," Draco muttered, cutting in before Hermione had a chance to reply. Instantly, the other woman's eyes fell on Abigail, who looked down at the floor.

"Oh, yes, I heard that you disappeared again."

"Miss Hannah, you don't understand-"

"I understand that you were outside way past curfew and that you ended up bothering these poor people. Look now, they've had to spend the time to bring you back home." The child cringed at the word home.

"But Miss Hannah, the shadows-"

"Oh enough with that silly talk; we've been through this Abigail, there's nothing bad in the shadows. Now up to your room this instant! You've caused enough worry for one night."

The child's head dropped, and she waited a moment before glancing back at the two adults who brought her home. "I won't see you again, huh?"

"You never know," the brunette said, trying to lift the girl's spirits. But now confusion clouded her brain, for until this moment she was under the impression that Abigail had never met a war hero. But wouldn't Abbott be considered a heroin, even if she wasn't as recognized or reported as the two people she encountered tonight? Hermione didn't understand why she was so amazed, when a hero was her very own house administrator. She got to see one all the time!

Abigail didn't look convinced. "No, I won't. You're not going to come back." She looked up then, looking past the girl to Draco. "Thank you for saving me from-"

"Don't say it!" Abbot snapped, crossing her arms at the little girl. Her head dropped once more, and without another word she turned and trekked up the stairs, never once looking back.

"You're peachy," the blonde said sarcastically once the little girl was gone. "She wasn't doing anything wrong there you know."

"She talks about nonsense," Hannah replied with a wave of her hand. "She's always filling the other children's heads with these silly ideas, scaring them and such. These things must be stopped as soon as possible, lest she'll continue to fill everyone's mind here at the house with rubbish about the shadows."

His eyes flashed briefly at that, but he said nothing to Abbot who was now glaring at them, choosing to keep his thoughts to himself. She didn't seem like the most… open-minded person.

"Abigail said she didn't have a last name," Hermione said at length, stepping back into the conversation. "Do you know what it is?"

She shrugged a single shoulder. "She doesn't have one. When she first came here the old administrator had some blood word and spells done to at least properly name the girl and have records to show people who might wish to adopt her." She scoffed. "Nothing could be located. The girl doesn't exist in the files anywhere around here. I've given up even locating the name, since that's not the biggest problem with her. She's a rather misunderstood child, and her imagination has far too much fun thinking up unrealistic scenarios. That's why no one will adopt her, not because of a missing last name."

Both the opposing adults frowned, thinking that was a rather bitter way of saying something. "I see," Hermione said slowly, uncomfortable now with the feel in the air, "Then I suppose you don't like her all that much?"

"What?! Oh, Hermione, whatever would give you that idea?"

"Well-"

"Oh, phish-posh. Never mind, that's not what's really important here. What I want to know is what the two of you are doing together, wandering around?"

The blonde glanced her way. Neither of them actually took into consideration what people would say if they recognized them together, let alone knew them. The initial focus was getting Abigail back home so they could go home as well.

"We brushed into each other when I was with Abigail," he said, shrugging lightly. "Granger didn't think I could walk a bloody child home. She insisted that she help."

Abbott looked skeptical about that, but didn't argue the point. "Very well. It was nice seeing you Hermione, but I really must bid you goodbye. It's late, and I'll have plenty of things to attend to in the morning. Goodnight."

It was a quick, abrupt dismissal. They both got the feeling that Hannah wanted them out as soon as possible, but Merlin knew why. Hermione glanced up the stairs Abigail had disappeared up once more before saying goodbye, and Malfoy didn't even bother saying a thing. Hannah didn't seem to see a problem with that, and didn't bother saying anything else to him either on the way out.

Outside, the bitter wind ate at her, the breeze picking up as night grew later. "Well, she's bloody pleasant," the blonde muttered, stepping back so he could disapparate.

"I don't know why she was so unfriendly. I always liked Hannah in school."

"Yes well, I think war has soured her heart or something. She couldn't possibly dislike Abigail more."

"Yes, you're right," Hermione muttered, thinking that statement over in her mind. Hannah did really seem to dislike Abigail…

"Well, it's been joyous and all Granger, but I really must get home. Don't let the shadows get you." She knew it was a pun at their elongated night, but she didn't see the humor in it as he disapparatted away. Not after everything that night, and she was too tired to try and be funny.

As she left, she failed to look up and see the eyes looking down at her. Dark eyes watched the pair disappear, filling with tears as her heroes disappeared into the night forever, out of her life.


A few weeks passed after the late-night event with Malfoy, and yet she couldn't get the event out of her head. Hermione could easily walk over to the orphanage and visit, but after Abbott's faked joy in seeing her last time she didn't think that was the best choice. But after a failed attempt to owl the little girl with her letter being returned unopened, Hermione began to wonder.

If all the orphanages in town were like that, then she dreaded knowing what the bedrooms looked like. The place was less than suitable to raise a human life, and she thought it was unfair of the Ministry to be denying funds to establishments seeking to raise dozens and dozens of children.

Unless that was a lower-end orphanage. Then she just wondered what caused the funding to be so low.

And after her letter being returned, Hermione's mind was beginning to work in overdrive. She wanted to go back and see the child, and brighten her upset mood. Hannah might just throw a fit, but that wasn't so bad, right?

So it was settled in her mind late one afternoon; Hermione was going to go visit Abigail again, even if Hannah had a fit about it.


A/n: Thoughts? Concerns? Ideas? Let me know in a review lovelies!