Hi!

I'm sorry for not updating recently. I have been busy, and my mom took my computer.

But I have good news!

This is the final chapter of Part one!

Don't worry, there will be more chapters, but I am splitting up the story into parts. We will soon have fluff!

Also, I am looking for a beta. If you are interested, or you know someone interested or good at beta-ing, please pm me!

Thanks!

"We are conducting an investigation on the death of one Miss Sandra J. Randsbury. Her body was found not far from here, and we were wondering if you had any information on her whereabouts or who she saw before she was murdered." Sherlock stated.

The girl's eyes widened.

"Sherlock!" John hissed. "A bit not good!" John turned to the girl, an apologetic smile on his face. "I'm sorry about my friend. He was being rude." The girl's eyes narrowed at him, as she shrank away from him a bit. "My name's John." John crouched down, in order to be at the girl's eye level.

The girl gasped in panic, stepping away from John, hiding herself behind the door. John's eyes widened in shock, then narrowed in confusion. "Sherlock?" he asked quietly.

"It seems that you remind her of someone, or something, that did her harm. It could simply be you, but, more realistically, it is a series of characteristics that both you and the person who did her harm possess. It might be physical characteristics, it might be social characteristics. She could possibly be afraid of everyone. It is completely understandable that she is afraid, after the ordeals she has been through."

"Seriously, Sherlock? It's understandable? I never thought I'd hear you say that! Isn't that part of the whole 'sentiment is unnecessary' thing you've got going on?" John said exasperated.

"Really, John! Fear is nothing to be ashamed of. It is wisdom in the face of danger, and I would expect you to have realized that a long time ago. Now," he continued, turning back to the small girl, "step aside John."

John looked at him quizzically before standing up and moving away, cocking an eyebrow when Sherlock took his place.

Sherlock slowly knelt before the girl, smiling softly at her. "Hello."

She furrowed her eyebrows, distrusting.

He continued. "My name's Sherlock. What's your name?"

Her small porcelain lips barely moved, the softest whisper emerging. "Hara."

Sherlock's lips quirked, his gaze soft upon the young girl. "Well, Hara, you're a smart girl, right?"

She nodded.

"And you live here with your relatives?" Another nod. "They don't like you do they?"

She shook her head.

Sherlock pursed his lips. "Did they hurt you recently, maybe yesterday, or the day before?"

Her eyes widened. Then, ever so slowly, she nodded her head.

"Did they hit you?"

"Just my Uncle Vernon."

Sherlock blinked. He hadn't expected the voice, like water in a brook, soft and clear, to emerge out of the girl. He had expected another whisper, not a clear, spoken answer, in a regular conversation volume.

"They expect you to do chores, correct? And they don't feed you often?"

"Yes."

"What chores do they have you do?"

"I cook and clean, I fetch the paper, I tend the gardens, I do the laundry, and I wash the dishes."

Sherlock thought for a moment, contemplating his next question. "Where do you sleep?"

"In my cupboard, under the stairs."

That was enough for Sherlock. Physical abuse, indentured servitude, and improper living arrangements? He would rather admit Anderson was right then see the poor girl spend one more minute in that house.

Sherlock stood up, whipped out his phone, and proceeded to text Mycroft, before turning to John.

"I won't stand to have this girl here any longer than she truly needs to be. I am going to take her to the yard, as much as a bunch of idiots they are, they can find out who she is, contact Social Services, and place her in a good home, where she will be loved and cared for properly. Now, I don't care how you feel about it," He said when John opened his mouth to argue, "I will not take no for an answer. Now, you are welcome to accompany me, but we will be leaving soon."

At that, he turned back to the girl. "My dear, I don't want you staying here if your uncle will continue to hurt you. I am going to take you to Scotland Yard, where they will help you find a nice family, who will love and care for you properly. You won't have to see your relatives ever again. Is that alright?"

The girl looked at him with large eyes, unsure if he was being serious. "I-I won't have to come back to the Dursleys? Ever?"

"Of course." Sherlock replied, a slight frown coloring his face.

A breathtaking grin split the girl's face, lighting up the space around her.

Sherlock grinned. "I'll take that as a yes."

He extended his hand to the little girl as a cab drew up to the curb.

And so, off they went, an army doctor in a jumper, jacket, and jeans; a consulting detective in a suit, scarf, and coat; and a small, lonely girl, dressed in an old blue t-shirt, a small pair of white bloomers, and a ribbon, hand in hand with a self-proclaimed sociopath, venturing towards a new life, filled with love, laughter, and possibilities.

And maybe even a little magic.

And so ends part one of our story.

Yay!

Thank you for supporting me, and commenting, and favoriting!

I promise there will be more soon!

mems1223