An Angel For Mia by Michelle Moonshine

Rating: R
Genres: Angst, Romance
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 5
Published: 14/12/2006
Last Updated: 14/12/2006
Status: In Progress

Harry Potter unknowingly stumbles fifty one years into the past, where he discovers an innocent
girl with a past much like his own, and seemingly he is the only one able to help her overcome the
trauma she had been living with for so many years. Can Harry be the savior of both worlds? The past
and the present? Her world and his own? Or will one face destruction in the process? One man can
only do so much. Even if that one man is The-Boy-Who-Lived. Very loosely based on the book and
movie, An Angel for May. AU.




1. Chapter I: Prologue
----------------------



*Disclaimer: Firstly, the idea for this story was taken from a book called* *An Angel for
May**, written by Melvin Burgess, as well as the movie based off of it, directed by Harley
Cokeliss. I've only seen the movie, but I feel obligated to give both the movie and the book
the credit they deserve. Secondly, this story is going to, after all, contain the Harry Potter
characters, of which, one you will see in this chapter briefly, although it will be a bit unclear.
So, on that note, I don't own Harry Potter, and I'm in no way making any money off of this
story. It's just pure fun. The brilliant and delightful J.K. Rowling has thought up all of the
Harry Potter characters that are written in throughout this story, and therefore, they are
hers.*

*Author's Note: This story is a bit A.U. but not much at all. The only real difference
that was made to the Harry Potter world is that Hermione hadn't gone to Hogwarts, and Harry had
never seen her or met her prior to the events of this story. Ron is still Harry's best mate,
just like he's always been.*

**An Angel For Mia**

*Chapter 1: Prologue*

She wandered through the ruins, in the precise area where the dreadful bombs had hit, seven days
prior. The reason she was there almost seemed silly, but a continuous unexplainable jolting within
her, which she simply refused to ignore, had led her here, to this exact spot, where she was now
standing, her feet glued to the soil, refusing to carry her any further. She began turning left and
right in quick succession as paranoia consumed her. It was that feeling that told her she was not
alone. That same feeling that caused chills to radiate throughout her body, as the hairs on the
back of her neck stood erect. She didn't know what it was that was making her feel this way, or
why she was trembling, but she knew she had to find whatever it was, and quickly.

Her name. It was Alison Wheeler. And the year. It was 1940, and the terror of World War II had
only recently set in, but already seemed as though it had gone on for much too long. Alison Wheeler
was the only daughter of Sam Wheeler, a man who owned a large farm and was well known in the town
in which they resided. He was not rich, not rich at all, quite the contrary, but they were able to
make a living. They had shelter, and food, and that was all that mattered at a time like this.
Nothing was to be taken for granted.

Sam Wheeler seemed lonely these days, which can be easily explained by his wife's early
death. Alison could hardly even recall knowing her mother. And the reason to which she had died was
unknown to her. Her father had never told her of the illnesses her mother faced in her youth. She
presumed he had kept it from her to protect her. To save her the terrible worry and pain it would
have caused, knowing the horrible ways in which her mother had died. She simply knew she had been
dreadfully ill for months prior to her death, and nothing more was to be said about it. Her father
hated to speak of it, for the terrible memories often invaded his dreams.

When Alison was only a child, she had already been aware of the terrible depression that her
father faced regarding her mother's death, and dreadful sensations passed over her as she
remembered how hopeless she had felt all along. Then a sudden pang of guilt hit her directly in the
center of the chest, and she felt as though her heart was tearing apart within her. She felt so
helpless. She knew her father must feel so alone, and she would have never left him, if it
weren't for her obligation to join the army. She hadn't wanted to, and she had spent many
lengthy nights crying herself to sleep prior leaving her father's house. She was dreadfully
frightened, and that's how it had always been. No one felt safe during a horrific war such as
this, and a dreaded feeling of tension stood over the small town in which they lived, refusing to
let them be, causing them all to think of the worst.

She worried constantly of her father, and found herself often wondering whether his sorrow would
soon become too overwhelming for him. Yes, he had already lived with it for so many years. But now
was different. Then, he had had Alison, and although she had only been a child, she had been there
for him, and she was a brilliant distraction. Alison reminded Sam greatly of his dearly beloved
wife, whenever he looked into her darling little face. The days he and Elizabeth had spent together
in their childhood, laughing and playing, without a care in the world, and despite that it only
made him more aware of what he had lost, it brought back happy memories that kept him in the
fight.

Alison knew that her father would be safe for the time being, which lifted a slight weight off
of her shoulders, as she thought of how truly, he wasn't alone. He did have Susan, and having
her there, meant he wasn't physically alone, even if he felt it.

Susan Higgins was a wonderful woman of her father's age. She had initially come to the farm
when Sam Wheeler had been desperately searching for someone who could help to prepare the food, to
clean the clothes, perform all the household tasks that he himself, had terrible trouble doing. At
the time, Susan Higgins had been looking for work in this precise field, and had come to the farm
attempting to find just that. When Sam Wheeler had seen her, something within him clicked, and he
had even offered her a place to stay, along with the salary that she would be receiving. After many
months of getting to know Sam, and Alison, as well, she had approached Sam one afternoon, and
returned to him the money that he had given her as payment, saying that he needed it far more than
she did, and that she would continue her services the way she had all along. Initially, Sam refused
to accept the preposterous offer, but Susan put up a great fight, refusing to keep the money, and
finally, Sam was forced to agree. Susan hadn't needed the money at all, and it was of no
assistance to her when she had had it. The soul reason she initially wanted the job was in order to
support herself and make a living, but now that Sam had given her all that she needed, she no
longer wished for him to pay her for her services as she had taken pity on him, along with the
realization that currently, he truly did need the money far more than she, herself, needed it.

Of coarse, she was no replacement to his late wife, Elizabeth, but he found himself falling in
love with Susan. Alison knew her father would never be capable of loving another women as much as
he had loved her mother, but he found peace with Susan, and that was reassuring to him in ways.
Although, Alison worried it would never be enough.

Alison sighed. She had been frozen in that same dreaded spot, that same horrifying feeling of
insecurity and paranoia shooting throughout her body, never resting. Currently, Alison stood on the
dirt road, which was clear of ruins, although the same thick dust filled the air, nevertheless.
Wherever she looked she could see scattered wooden planks, broken down cottages, as well as all
those who had perished during their collapse. Their cold eyes staring back at her as she observed
her surroundings. She began to tremble once again. She was alone, and yet she was not. She felt
alone, yet there were multiple corpses in her presence, gaping at her, rotting away in the heat of
the sun, most looking as though they had suffered terribly during their time of death. The smell
was dreadful, yet there was nothing to be done about it. She was here to look for survivors, though
she knew it was irrational to believe that someone could have survived this long within the ruins.
But nevertheless, she was here, and she was going to do the job.

Alison swung herself around quickly, gasping, as she heard a low moan of utter distress sound
from within the boards of the broken down cottage directly behind her. Disbelieving her ears,
Alison began a slow and cautious walk toward the cottage. Everything about where she was made her
tremble violently in fear and anticipation, all of the hairs of her body, now standing on end, as
she became covered in a cold sweat.

“Dear Lord,” she whispered in silent prayer, hoping desperately that her mind wasn't playing
cruel tricks on her as she neared the ruins from which she had heard the choked plea. It had
sounded like a child. How in heaven's name could a child have survived these conditions?

Alison shivered suddenly. She wasn't made for this. This wasn't meant to happen to her,
but the moment she had turned eighteen, she had been forced to leave for the army, and there was no
choice to be made on her part. She dreaded every moment of this. She had always feared death. That
precise fear being magnified greatly when her mother had passed. Just the thought of being in a
place with so much death caused tears of fear and helplessness to sting at her eyes.

And there it was again, that horrifying plea for help. It *was* a child. A choked sob
wrenched itself from deep within Alison's throat, and she sped her pace, but only slightly.

“I-Is someone there?” Alison choked quietly, shivering again, as the tears began to leak from
her eyes. She couldn't stand being in that wretched place any longer, though she knew leaving
now wasn't an option on the list.

There was no answer to her question, so Alison tried again, this time louder, her voice sounding
terribly desperate of its own accord.

“I-Is someone there? Please - If you're there, make a sound - any sound. J-Just let me know
you're there,” Alison continued to speak, each word coming out slowly, her voice shaking, as
she continued to tremble, her heart beating so violently she felt as though it would burst forth
from her chest at any moment.

“Help me,” the quiet strangled pleas of a young girl broke forth, reaching Alison's ears, as
she hastily moved closer to the spot from which the sound that been emitted. Alison was beginning
to panic. She swallowed the lump in her throat determinedly, realizing that she had to be strong,
as she choked back yet another sob that threatened to break forth.

“I'm here to help you,” Alison's voice came out quicker and exceedingly more panicked
that she had wished for it to. She cleared her throat and continued to speak, suddenly feeling
empowered, no doubt an after effect of the desire to help this child and be strong for her in this
time of need.

“Please, make another noise, knock on something if you can, tell me in some way where you are!”
Alison exclaimed, no longer sobbing, she herself surprised at the sudden strength that filled her,
although silent tears continued to make their trails down her cheeks.

There was a slight knocking on the boards, and Alison quickly rushed over to where the sound had
been coming from.

“Do that again,” Alison pleaded, knowing she was drawing closer to her goal.

She heard the knock again, and now knew exactly where she should have been looking all along.
She neared her destination, moving the destroyed wooden planks aside, to reveal the face of a young
girl, soiled with dust from the debris. The child looked no older than twelve years old, her
normally soft, smooth skin, covered in rugged scrapes and wounds, that would no doubt scar if not
cleaned and bandaged quickly.

Alison hastily removed the remainder of the planks from atop the child's body, setting her
free from the dreadful trap that had almost become her grave. The child looked terribly skinny, and
utterly helpless, as well as on the verse of losing consciousness. An effect of her malnutrition
and dehydration. She was shaking violently, a train of dried tears on her cheeks, the only part of
her that wasn't covered in the thick dust, which had risen from the ground as the cottage
fell.

Alison lifted the terrified child into her arms, caressing her cheeks, and speaking comforting
to words to her, as fresh tears silently made a slow, agonizing path down the young girl's once
porcelain cheeks, stinging at the cuts and wounds that now covered her face. The child clung to
Alison's uniform desperately with the little bit of strength that she had left within her, as
Alison felt her heart give an unpleasant jolt, realization hitting her square in the chest. The
child must have lost her parents to the bombs, leaving her orphaned. Alison was desperate to calm
the girl, even slightly, as she held her in her warm arms, embracing her comfortingly, continuing
to speak soft gentle words of reassurance into the child's ears.

“What's your name, darling?” Alison asked gently, her voice no louder than a whisper.

“M-Mia,” the child answered, her voice shaking as yet more tears pored down her cheeks.

“Hello Mia, my name is Alison. I'm going to help you, all right? I've got you now, and
everything is going to be okay. I'll take care of you,” Alison spoke in soft and reassuring
tones.

Alison watched as Mia nodded slightly, almost in approval, and Alison couldn't help the
tears, that continued to make their way down her own cheeks.

“Let's get you out of here, darling,” Alison whispered, cradling Mia in her arms.

“B-But, my mum and dad…” Mia emitted a soft sob, her voice dangerously week, as she trailed off,
leaving her sentence unfinished.

“I'll send someone for them,” Alison assured her, not saying more, as though she did not
trust her own voice to continue, though she meant the words she spoke. And at that very moment,
Alison swore to herself that she would not rest until she was sure that the child's
parents' bodies were recovered and resting peacefully within their graves.

Alison bit back a sob, as she watched Mia nod softly once again.

“Let's go darling, I will send someone for your mum and dad,” Alison repeated, this time
with a bit more confidence weaving through her words, as she began to walk back the way she came,
hoping that she could get Mia the medical attention she so desperately required, though Alison was
certain Mia would make it. She was much stronger than many of the people she knew.

“My mum and dad, are they-gone?” Mia choked out, burying her face into Alison's bosom.

“I'm sorry, darling,” she whispered, aware that Mia knew the answer but refused to believe
it until she was told.

Mia nodded slowly once again, this time in acceptance, knowing there was nothing to be done, as
Alison continued to walk off, cradling Mia's frail frame in her comforting arms.

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