Chapter Four.
The Tale Commences. . .
The police weren't alerted that night about the attack, it was not the neighbourhood watch type of street. In fact it wasn't until the next day when they were investigating a drugs allegation against the resident of the house next door that they discovered the baby.
The two bodies were removed from the living room, and taken away in an ambulance for a post-mortem examination, which revealed a heart attack, nothing more, nothing less.
But a journey up the stairs brought to light the tiny child that still lay crying in it's cot. She was hungry, and suffering from the cold, but after a couple of days in the care of a local hospital and she sparked up.
"She's made such a wonderful recovery." One of the nurses commented. "There is something almost magical about this child."
The house was reopened, and sold. The families that lived there, however, did not remain long in those cursed walls. The smell of death never left the living room no matter how many air fresheners were sprayed. And the room where the baby had been found was never light, the sun refused to shine through the windows, and the light fittings denied a glowing bulb no matter how many electricians were called out.
"She's such a strange baby." Sally, the nurse muttered to herself, as she lay the girl back in her cot. The lights in the ward flickered out, but the child was already asleep. "Night, night. . ." She whispered.
Later on in the evening Sally was having a drink in the pub with her friends Louise and Michael Granger, the newly weds as they were known in affectionate circles.
"Poor child, doesn't look like she'll be leaving soon." Sally said, as she sipped her drink.
"Why what's wrong with her?"
"Well, she's an orphan now, and with no one left to look after the poor critter. No family have come forward to claim her, and we can't trace any contacts." Sally said.
Louise shook her head. "Poor kid." They raised their glasses and drank. The baby wasn't mentioned again that evening. But the seeds of an idea had been sowed into Louise's head, and Sally's words weren't needed to water them. Already it was beginning to flower before her eyes.
That night Louise sat down beside her husband, and took hold of his hand.
"You know we talked about fostering?" She asked, soothingly.
He looked at her in surprise. "It was just an idea, Lou, we have plenty of time to have our own children."
She shook her head. "You know that can never be. I just want to be able to look something, have something dependent on me, to hold it in my arms and feel the love. . ."
"We could get a dog, a nice Jack Russell."
"Michael, I don't want a dog, I want a baby."
He sighed, and clasped her hand even tighter. "It's not something you can keep the receipt for and take it back for a refund, Lou."
She snatched her hand away. "I know perfectly well what it is. It's a job for life, Michael. But I'm ready."
"Are we ready?" he asked.
"What?"
"I don't want a baby to come between us."
"It won't." She insisted. "I've always wanted a child, Michael. Always."
"Our own child, not somebody else's."
"Mike, we've talked about this. You know we can't. . .the doctor said there is little chance of me ever conceiving. Now if I can give a neglected child the chance to have a good life then who are you to deprive it?" She asked.
"Let's talk about his later." He said, clenching his teeth together.
"Fine, if that's the way you feel." She said, getting up from the sofa.
"Wait, where are you going?"
"To bed." She said, firmly.
He sighed and let her go. She could be very stubborn at times, but taking on a baby was a very big thing. Say she got attached to it, and then family came along and took the critter away, she'd be far more heartbroken then. He nodded to himself, he was certain he was doing the right thing. Louise often went through these little phases, he was sure she'd grow out of the idea of wanting children. Just like she grew out of her kit-kat obsession.
"You shouldn't have left the baby." Her husband chided.
Murka looked up from where she was sitting on the sofa. Vodka jumped off and began licking her paws in an elegant way.
"What are you talking about, Herbert?" She demanded.
He threw a muggle newspaper down in front of her.
BABY IN CONIFER'S GROVE
A young married couple in the rundown Conifer's Grove, apparently seemed so in love that even a heart attack could not separate them. The couple, George Havvisham, and his wife Maria suffered from simultaneous heart attacks a week ago.
The police, called out to an unrelated incident, found the door wide open, and two bodied in the living room. A baby only a month old was found upstairs. The police are now looking for any relatives of the Havvishams' to come forward. Otherwise the baby will be fostered. . .
The article went on to talk about other incidents occurring in the Grove, including the youths throwing bottles at cars, and throwing firecrackers at pedestrians.
"It won't do any harm." She persisted.
"The Dark Lord will not be pleased with your conduct." He said, coldly.
"I knew nothing about the baby!" She insisted, throwing the newspaper back at him.
"Dumbledore talks about getting a member of the Order to adopt her. That way we can ensure that the sacrifice of her parents did not lay to rest. How ironic if he selected us."
She glared at him. "I tell you, I knew nothing."
"In which case you should be punished for not checking round the house. It means you only did half a job."
She jumped up and grabbed hold of his cloak. "The Dark Lord shall be very angry with me." She said, frantically.
"Who was with you?" He asked.
"Snape."
"Then it was Snape's job to check upstairs." He said, firmly.
She smiled, wickedly. "So it was. And I was worried about nothing." She sat back down. "Are you off to the Order?"
He nodded.
"Make sure we don't end up with the little brat."
He didn't smile. "Make sure you never do anything like this ever again."
Her husband was stern, he hated it when she provided a danger to their position. How foolish allowing sentiment to get involved. Snape would most probably get a flogging now, but as long as he wasn't connected, it didn't matter. He took one last look at his wife, stroking that impertinent cat, before apparating into nothingness.
A/N Please tell me what you think so far! Thank you!! ^_^