----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Abby raised her head and looked around at the small room she currently shared with three other girls. Over the past years she had grown to love the place. The room was warm; the colors of the walls bright. The sounds of the other sleeping girls created a feeling of comfort and security. She was in a place where she was loved, and could love in return.
Silently, Abby crept around the room, dressing herself, and then slipping out the door. Tip toeing down the hall, she made her way to the kitchen. There at the table was her foster father, Mr. Kennedy. She walked over and gave him a hug before helping herself to breakfast.
"Happy Birthday, my dear," Mr. Kennedy greeted her, eyes shining bright. "I was just thinking of what a lovely young lady you've grown into, as bright as you are beautiful."
Abby blushed, " Oh Papa Kennedy, you flatter me. If only everyone else where as kind as you. Thank you."
At that moment Mrs. Kennedy walked in, "What he said was true. A smarter daughter I could never ask for. A more beautiful one I could never imagine. Now, how are we going to spend your seventeenth birthday?"
Abby looked away. She had also come to think of Mrs. Kennedy as a mother, however, she could not forget the one who had birthed her.
"Mrs. Kennedy, I would like first to visit my mother's grave. I also need to stop at the school and collect my things."
Mrs. Kennedy looked at her with understanding in her eyes. "Well, we'd better be off then, before the other kids wake up."
Mrs. Kennedy and Abby went outside and loaded themselves into the foster care van. They stopped two streets down at the local flower shop, where Abby went inside to purchase a small bouquet. It was just a short ride further to the small graveyard. Mrs. Kennedy settled back into the van's front seat and allowed Abby some privacy to visit her mother.
"Hello, mom," Abby said, as she approached the grave and sat down on the grass. "I've brought these for you." She lay the flowers next to the headstone.
Abbigail was the name printed on the marble slab. Date of birth - unknown, died May 21, 1984
Abby thought about the woman who lay beneath the ground. She only knew the little about her that the Kennedy's had known, which was not very much.
Her mother had arrived on the Kennedy's doorstep during the evening of May 20, 1984. She had already begun having labor pains. Mrs. Kennedy had urged her to go to the hospital, but Abbigail had refused. She began to cry and between gasps of pain and she explained that she was in trouble and was in hiding. With a look of panic in her eyes she stated that there where very bad people who would kill her and her child if they found her.
Mrs. Kennedy did the best she could for the woman. Abbigail had admitted that this was her first child. Mrs. Kennedy placed her age somewhere between her late thirties and early forties. Her accent gave her country of origin away. It was very clear that she had come to America from England. She wanted to ask Abbigail more questions, but the labor pains had grown so intense it made rational conversation impossible.
After several agonizing hours later, a baby girl was born, at the very stroke of midnight. "The witching hour," Abbigail whispered, holding the baby to her breast. As the baby drank, Abbigail motioned Mrs. Kennedy to her side.
"I am dying," she informed the kind lady, who helped her that night. "I already know. I can feel the life draining out of me, even as we speak. I know you will take good care of my daughter. I can see the love in your eyes."
She handed the baby to Mrs. Kennedy. Reaching behind her neck, she unhooked the clasp of hear necklace. She placed the silver locket next to the bible on the nightstand beside the bed. "Make sure she takes good care of this. She will need it."
Mrs. Kennedy held the baby next to her for just a moment, before placing her in the crib that many of her foster children had used before. Abbigail's breathing had become very labored. Her already pail skin had turned ghostly white. She knew the woman spoke the truth. She
"What is your full name? Where did you come from? Do you have any family we can contact? Who is the baby's father? Will her come for her? What should we name her?"
Abbigail struggled to answer the woman, her voice barely a whisper. "My full name I can not tell you, for the sake of the child. I can not have you searching for my family, for fear of my enemies finding her. Her father will come for her in time. I did not choose a name for her. Name her after someone she will admire."
Mrs. Kennedy looked from the weary, watery eyes of the mother to the crib where the baby lay.
"We shall name her Abbigail, in honor of..." she began, looking back towards the mother, whom she now knew was alive no more. She walked over to the crib and gently drew the baby into her arms. The child opened her eyes and looked up into the face of her new mother. With a sigh of contentment she snuggled closer and shut her eyes, dosing off into a peaceful slumber. Mrs. Kennedy made a pledge in her heart to the dead mother beside her. "Abbigail, your daughter will always be cared for in my house. She will receive a mother's love. Rest in peace, and know that your daughter will be safe in my care."
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I hope you like what has happened so far. I know there have not been any HP character's yet, but they will soon be arriving. I have many surprises in store for you.