A/N: Hi guys! I just want to say something quickly before we move on to Harry and co. When I posted chapter four I was really excited. It was my longest chapter yet and I was really hoping that it would get a few reviews. I woke up the next morning and turned on the computer and checked my emails. I got nineteen emails. One of them was irrelevant to this, fourteen of them were ' has added you to their story/author alert'. Four of them were reviews. It's really nice to know that a lot of people like your story enough to want to stay up to date with where it is, but please send me a review. I know all author want them and there's a reason for that. They're real proof that people like your story and are willing to tell you that or if there's something that they don't like about it and we can try to improve on it. I know that a lot of readers don't have accounts and I haven't figured out how to allow anonymous reviews. Sorry if it wouldn't let you review. Anyway thanks, sorry to go on and on about it, but it's a really good feeling to get a review and I write better (and faster) when I'm happy. Thanks! Also, Beth is not blonde and pale, which I apologize for portraying her as in the last chapter. I have nothing against blondes but she has the whole mediteranian 'honey coloured skin and wavy, dark copper hair, but she has dark blue eyes. She is tough, but even a tomboy goes 'awww' when presented with a little boy like Harry.

Last time: Somehow Johnny always had to have the last word.

Beth left David and Johnny with Harry so that she could go buy dinner. She grinned. When she'd first hit the streets she'd never have suspected that things would turn out like they did. She'd been expecting to have to steal and sneak around the backstreets of London. She still had to sneak around the backstreets of London but stealing was a risk they didn't need to take as Johnny was eighteen and held an honest job; they could just afford the absolute necessities.

A house not being included in said necessities. Shelter was an issue, but they hadn't had to kip out in the open for months. They'd stayed in cardboard boxes occasionally, but since the building next to one of the many massive factories in industrial London had been deserted, they'd stayed there. She still had trouble believing that she had survived on the streets for so many years.

Crossing one of the many small streets, she then turned and opened the door to the fish and chip place. Fish and chips was by far the cheapest chow around. The tiny bell above the doorway rang and Chewie emerged from the back room.

Chewie was a rounded, middle-aged man of Itallian heratige that seemed to be permanently happy. The friendliest man the pack (1) knew, he knew anyone and everone and inspite of his appearance as an unobservan old man, often knew of your problems before you did. He was a boisterous man but if you needed help he could be kind, compassionate and fatherly. To the multitude of kids on the streets, that's what he was. A father figure. Nobody could quite remember when he'd arrived but nobody could remember a time when he hadn't been there, on the corner, selling much needed food to bedraggled children.

'Ai ai ai ai! (2) Bethy! How you doin'?'

'Great, how 'bout you Chewie?'

'Oh, I doin' alright. How are de boys? They doin' ok?'

'Yeah, they're cool, we found another one today, his name's Harry.'

'How old is dis boy?'

'He's five.' Chewie sensed her reluctance to discuss something she was unsure about.

'What 'appened to him?' Those were the only words needed to unleash the torrent of emotions the girl had been bottling up since meeting Harry.

'He was livin' with his relatives. They 'bused him Chew. The beat 'im and starved 'im. His aunt an' uncle too, right. Not strangers or foster parents. 'Is bloody family! 'Is back's a mess and 'e's as waif-like as the ghost of Christmas Past and 'es so-' (3)

'Waida minute. Slow down Bethy, what you sayin'?'

'He's been livin' with his relatives 'cause 'is parents is dead (4) and 'is uncle beat 'im. Looks like they didn't feed 'im neither, 'cause 'e's so thin see. I ain't never seen a kid beat up so bad so young! None of us were! I don' get it,' she finished softly.

'Now listen 'ere Bethy. You know dat not ev'ryone's good like you. Dis kid's relative's must 'ave been some of de worst to beat a kid, yes? We know dat, now de only ting we can do is treat 'im real good. Show 'im dat not ev'ryone's bad, you know? Good. You'll 'elp 'im,' Beth smiled.

'Right. We have t' 'elp 'im,' Beth nodded determinedly.

'Good girl Bethy. An' don' forget to tell dem boys not to be rough wid de kid, kay,' Chewie said handing her the food he'd been preparing though out their conversation.

'I won'. Bye Chew,' she said, and began her walk back to the boys. Her boys.

A/Ns from the chapter:

1: I've used the word 'pack' here because soon they will start calling Harry 'cub' and I want to emphasize the fact that this is not a 'tattoos and drugs' group, but a group of kids and not using the word 'gang' helps me to do that.

2: if any of you readers have seen 'Mighty Morphin' Power Rangers', this is the sound that the robot with the head like a UFO makes when he's worried. If you haven't seen the series, I'm leaving it up to your imagination, but he is supposed to have an Italian accent.

3: Harry told Beth while she took him home.

4: When she was talking to Harry she was speaking slowly and clearly so that he'd trust her, but her street accent's coming through now.

A/N: There you go, another chapter. It was a bit short but I'm working on making the next chapter at the very least four pages. Thanks for sticking with me. Remember, reviews are appreciated. Until next time,

Evanlyn