The streets of England had been very quiet at nights in recent days.

The reason for this was very simple: the people feared the vigilante. The Reaper...

Margaret Moonlight was her name, and she took no prisoners when dealing with criminals.

Her appearance was very sudden. One night, a young man was being beaten by a group of thugs in an alleyway. The next thing any of them knew, the sound of someone playing a flute sounded through the cold night air.

And then, before anyone could react, or even see who their attacker was, all of the thugs were on the ground, rendered completely unconscious.

It was sudden, thugs were scared to go out at night. Life was starting to become peaceful on the English streets. However, evil still lurks.

A car pulled into the side of the road. The door opened and a large man walked out with narrowed eyes. He walked to the back of his car and opened the truck and lifted a small bag and walked into the ally.

He walked down the dark alley his eyes narrowed darkly. When he was far enough away from the street he opened the bag and dropped its contents onto the ground.

He was unaware that he was being watched by a pair of light blue eyes from the rooftops.

Margaret Moonlight scowled down at the man. She had seen him before...He was a sinner if there ever was one. She had seen him throughout the city, going through ALL of the seven deadly sins.

She had seen him hitting on a clearly uninterested and uncomfortable woman in the cafe she worked at during the day, making very odd and disturbing advances before being kicked out. Lust.

When he had been in the cafe, he had ordered such an obscene, disgusting amount of food that they had to close early due to many items being out of stock. Gluttony.

She had seen him out on the street, mocking a homeless man that had asked him for spare change and bragging about the amount of money he made at his job. Greed.

After she had begun keeping an eye on him, she noticed when he was at work, he would often slack off and get co-workers to do his jobs for him. Sloth.

There was many, MANY occasions where he would fly off the handle and scream furiously at his co-workers at the slightest provocation, sometimes even getting physical. Wrath.

She had seen Vernon lose out on a promotion to a much harder working and more deserving co-worker, and he made no secret of his bitterness. Envy.

And she saw his attitude. He thought he deserved everything to be handed to him, and everyone was beneath him, lower than dirt, and he was top dog. Pride.

Needless to say, she wanted SOMETHING to bring this sinner to justice.

She would get her wish.

The man smirked down darkly as the content fell from the bag. A small toddler landed on the cold ground with a whimper. He was a small baby who looked maybe two at the most with shaggy black hair and the most adorable green eyes.

The small child whimpered and looked up at his uncle with confused and scared eyes.

Vernon scowled down at the freak of nature. He never wanted the brat! So him and his wife had decided that he needed to go, they will not tolerate this freak! He growled down at the child making him whimper.

"Die out in the cold. Freak." He said coldly. It was supposed to snow soon and he was sure that it would kill the freak.

Harry's eyes widened, and he let out frightened, pleading babbling with the large man, begging him not to be left alone in the dark. Vernon scowled at the boy, then kicked him in the stomach, sending him rolling into a brick wall with a soft whimper.

"Don't talk back to me!" He barked angrily. The child sniffled.

"Uncey,..Peese..."

"Shut your mouth, FREAK." Vernon said through gritted teeth. He then grabbed the child by the throat. The little boy struggled in his uncle's grasp. He couldn't breathe!

That's when Margaret stepped in.

Vernon froze as a soft melody started to play in the wind. The sound of a flute being played. The big man had heard stories of this omen and while he boasted not be afraid, he could never explain the level of terror that he felt now.

He spun around his back to the wall and held the child in a head lock. "I WILL KILL HIM IF YOU SHOW!" he shouted in fear.

'Reaper, Reaper…'

The man jumped in fear as the voice seemed to come from all around him.

'That's what people call me…why?'

His grip tightened on the child's neck making him choke.

'Cause they all die…'

"S-SHOW Y-Y-YOURSELF FREAK!' he shouted

The voice went silent. Vernon began to sweat profusely. Harry didn't know what was going on, but he saw that his uncle was scared. He began to whimper and tremble fearfully.

And then, before either of them could even react, someone leapt down from one of the rooftops and planted their boot directly into Vernon's face.

Not only did this immediately render Vernon unconscious, but it also launched him back into a lamp post.

The young woman who had kicked him had gracefully kicked off of him, using his face as a springboard, and, doing a flip, elegantly landed on the ground in a kneeling position. Vernon had dropped Harry...but Margaret had managed to catch him in her arms after knocking the obese man unconscious.

'Goddamn Philistine'

The woman slowly stood up from her kneeling position and smirked down at the out cold Vernon. She feels the child trying to escape her grasp, she starts to rock him gently and soothingly making him calm down.

She smiled down at him slightly and is promptly stunned by his wide green eyes.

'Who you…?" he babbled.

'He's a baby.' She thought with sadness and rage mixing. She turned to glare at the big man with a scowl. 'Even monsters have a soul…' she though before turning back to the baby and giving him a small smile.

"They call me Reaper." She said softly.

"Weepa...?" The toddler asked, tilting his head and furrowing his brow. Margaret smirked.

"Yes. Reaper." She replied. A cold breeze blew through the area, and Harry whimpered and began to shiver.

"Socol..." He said with a stuttering voice. Margaret tightened her hold on him.

"Yes, it does get cold this time of year." Harry tilted his head.

"Youcol?" He asked. Margaret shook her head with a smirk.

"No. You are keeping me warm little one." She said softly.

Harry gave her a wide eyed look. "Me am?" he said surprised.

She gave him a soft nod. "Yes you are. Now let me return the favor." She said holding him closer to her.

Harry smiled and snuggled into her feeling warmth. He cooed softly as he did so.

Margret shook her head amused at the cute act and walked over to the fat man. She pulled out a pair of handcuffs and strapped them on the knocked out man and locked him to the lamp post.

She smirked down at him and started to walk away. Her dark dress billowing in the winter wind. She needed to get back home and give the child a look over and to get him out of the cold.

Harry looked up at Margaret with a tilted head. "White." He said curiously. "Real white..." Margaret looked at the toddler in amusement. So many people thought she was constantly wearing makeup, but the truth was she was actually very, very pale. It was odd...There was nothing WRONG with her, her skin was just an off colour.

"Yes, little one. I AM rather white, aren't I?" She replied.

"You ghos?" The goth girl let out a light chuckle.

"No, I'm not a ghost." She replied, patting his head.

"Angle?"

She felt her cheeks redden and felt a warmth pass through her. She smiled down at him in amusement and ran her fingers through his hair. "Thank you little one." She said softly.

Harry smiled at him and babbled softly as he nuzzled into her.

Soon the two made it to her small home. She opened the door and walked in locking it behind her. She flicked on a light and went over to the fireplace. She lit a match and tossed it into the stacks of wood and soon a fire was lit.

She walked over and sat down on a chair and started to rock him gently. She frowned at his oversized shirt and let out a bitter sigh. "Let's get this disgusting thing off of you." She commented before lifting the shirt over the toddler's head.

"Showt..." Harry mumbled, pouting slightly. "Ony showt..." Margaret smiled.

"That's your only shirt, is it?" She asked. "Well then...I'll just have to fix that." Harry blinked.

"Howfis?"

"Well by buying you a new shirt of course." Harry gasped.

"New?" He said softly.

"Something that is not owned by someone else dear." She explained tossing the shirt to the side. 'Evidence for latter' she thought.

She turned her attention back to the child and felt rage start to bubble up in her.

His body was littered in dark bruises that where fist shaped. She narrowed her eyes at the marks and gave the child a sad sigh. "Do you hurt anywhere?" she asked him.

Harry thought about it before pointing at a dark spot on his chest. "Chest hurt…" he said softly.

She walked over to her medicine cabinet and pulled out some ointment for bruises and walked back over to him. "Now this might sting slightly." She said to him.

She applied the ointment gently. The little boy whimpered slightly at the pain. But it was working. Margaret smiled.

"I know it hurts at first. But trust me...it WILL get a LOT better." She said gently.

"Pomise...?"

"I would never lie to you." The goth said gently.

She continued to rub the ointment on his wounds. When she got to his side he started to squirm and giggle lightly.

She smirked down at him softly. "Ticklish are we?" she asked before resuming making him giggle and laugh. It was wonderful sound.

When she was done she walked over and lifted a blanket from her loveseat and wrapped it around the baby like a cocoon with only his little head sticking out. She sat down on the chair and hummed softly to him playing with his hair gently.

Harry was being lulled into a daze as he yawned softy feeling tired and warm for the first time in forever.

Margret smiled down at him and hummed her song to him softly. Soon the soft snores was all she could here as he drifted into dreamland.

The goth smiled mirthfully. "Rest well, small one." She said gently, rising to her feet and placing him down.

However, when she turned to leave, she felt something grab her sleeve.

"Nuh." Came the little boy's voice. Blinking, she turned to see him subconsciously clinging to her dress.

Margret couldn't stop the small smile that grew on her face. She shook her head softly and decided to amuse him for now. She slipped into the chair next to him and he instantly nuzzled next to her.

She smiled down at him and ran her fingers through his hair. For some reason this felt right. Like she was meant to do this. She hummed her song to him again and soon her own eyes started to droop.

She let out a yawn and nuzzled more into the chair wrapping her arms around the baby and holding him like a teddy bear. She leaned down and kissed his cheek. Before falling into a blissful sleep.