A small blue Volkswagen Beetle pulled up in the driveway of a house on the corner. The house was small and quaint, yet it had a warm and protecting feel. This particular house happened to belong to a certain Mrs. Hidner who was currently feeding her special homemade chocolate chip cookies to a small peculiar boy. The man who stepped out of the beetle was her youngest son, Bryson Hidner. Bryson is a tall man in his early thirties with lean build and dark brown hair. He laughed easily, smiled more, and was always eager to lend a helping hand. Mrs. Hidner was proud of her youngest son and was overjoyed when he opened his own bookstore in Jermyn and was extraordinarily successful. He smoothed his button down shirt before putting on a bright smile and pressing the doorbell.
As the white haired boy reached for another cookie he jumped back in fright the foreign noise.
"Oh don't worry dearie, that is just my son, Bryson, who I told you about." she reassured him before pushing back her chair.
"You eat that cookie and I will go let him inside alright." Mrs. Hidner waited patiently for the tentative nod before bustling to the door.
"Why hello Mother" exclaimed Bryson as he kissed her on the cheek.
"Your looking as lovely as ever."
"It's nice to see you Bryson. Come along inside, there is someone I want you to meet."
Bryson stopped at the door to the kitchen and smiled when he saw the wide-eyed boy sitting at the table clutching a cookie.
"Why hello, Mother who is our guest?" The boy in question smiled and took and eager bite out of his treat.
"He has yet to tell me his name. The only thing he has said was in some sort of foreign language that I couldn't quite make out but he seems to understand English perfectly well."
"What did he say?"
"Well I'm not quite sure but is sounded like some sort of exotic language."
"Volo ire in domum suam." The two adults turned to the boy who was regarding them with piercing grey eyes. He had understood what they were talking about and had obviously realized that something was still missing.
"Volo ire domum suam!" he repeated with a hint of distress in his voice. Mrs Hidner rushed to his side and picked him up as the child began to cry. He buried his face in her shoulder and sobbed.
"That is Latin. If I am translating correctly then he is saying I want to go home."
"Oh the poor little darling!" The motherly woman exclaimed as she embraced the child in a comforting hug. Bryson smiled at his mother's actions. After escaping the hug the child looked up at him with expectantly as he bit into another cookie.
"Quis est vestri nomen?" He questioned the child. The boy blinked, the look on his face showed that he hadn't even thought about introducing himself. He offered a sticky chocolate covered hand.
"Draconis, tamen meus matris dico mihi Draco." he replied as his hand was hesitantly taken. Bryson turned to his mother who had been watching the exchange with curiosity. She was not expecting the boy to have such refined manners. A normal child wouldn't have offered his hand at all. She looked to her son and noted the confusion in his eyes as well.
"Well?" Mrs. Hidner said, prompting her son to translate.
"He said his name is Draco, at least that is what his mother calls him."
"Draco, that is an unusual name, but it certainly suits him." Bryson looked over at the pale-haired child who was in the middle of a yawn.
"Yes it most certainly does."
Draco gave a tired smile and Mrs. Hidner lifted him up and headed down the hallway towards the spare bedroom. Her son followed after stopping to grab some of the cookies that Draco hadn't eaten yet. He stuffed one in his mouth and was rewarded with an overflow of chocolatey goodness.
As he watched his mother gently tuck in the already sleeping Draco he couldn't help but notice that the boy had a rather strange vibe to him. He felt...powerful.
While Draco was peacefully sleeping in the large bed in the spare bedroom in the house belonging to Mrs. Hidner, there was an interesting conversation occurring in the kitchen. Bryson and his mother were currently discussing the rather remarkable boy they had chanced upon earlier that day. After a long debate it was agreed that Bryson would leave in the early morning to take the boy to the authorities in Jermyn. If there was no record of him there then they would see about a childcare facility in which they could place the boy. Mrs. Hidner had already fallen in love with the pale child and was reluctant to let him leave while Bryson insisted that it was the best way to find his family.
In the town of Jermyn, there was another interesting conversation occurring. This one was quite a bit less civilized and was centered around a nine-year old girl with a volatile personality. If one was to listen in on the argument they would hear something along the lines of this.
"I told you, I am on my way to New York to visit relatives, I don't need your stupid help finding them!"
"You don't have family in New York, your records show you are from Phoenix, Arizona. There is no-"
"I don't CARE what your dumb records say! I know where I am going and I am perfectly safe!"
"But miss-"
"That's enough Jansen. Miss La Rue, how about you stay the night here and we can discuss reaching your relatives in New York in the morning."
"Just one night?"
"Yes, one night so you aren't out on the streets."
"...fine... deal."
"Thank you miss, Jansen, would you please show her to her bed?"
"Yes Mr. Montemayor"
Footsteps echo and fade a way before the sound of a heavy sigh is heard and another set of footsteps walk away.