This is just a short Harmony flash fic.

She was about twenty years old. She had curly, almost bushy, brown hair and warm honey brown eyes. She wasn't tall, but she was well built. Athletic more than curvy. There were scars that ran over her legs and arms, just thin white marks that pointed to an active past. That was all she knew.

Two years ago, she'd woken up in a hospital in Arundel. The sisters of Poor Clares had found her one afternoon during a short trip to East Preston Beach. She'd been lying on her back in the stones just under the edge of a boardwalk. The sisters had quickly found a local constable and had the paramedics called in. For three weeks she lay there, no one knew who she was, and she would not wake. Fingerprints and photographs were sent out to other jurisdictions around the country, but nothing came back.

Finally, she woke with a scream. Everyone was startled and the doctors and nurses spent an hour trying to calm her down. When she was finally calm enough to answer questions, she couldn't. She had no idea what her names was, where she was from or what happened that led to her being on the beach. She remained in the hospital for two more weeks until the doctors finally released her into the care of the sisters at Poor Clares.

For the next two years she lived amongst them, not as a nun, but as a lay sister. She worked among the sisters and freed them to observe their vows and prayers by taking on many of the chores around the convent. She would join them for mass and meals but did not follow them into prayer or study.

Having no idea of her true name, she asked the sisters to provide her with one. They declared her to be Francis Arundel. Her name came from the Order of Saint Francis and the town of Arundel in which they lived. She was pleased to have a name, even though she knew it wasn't the name she was given when she was born. Her life was simple, but she was pleased with that. During her private time, she would either read or people watch from behind the fence looking out onto Crossbush Lane.

Several times during her people watches, she saw other young men and women that seemed familiar. She chalked it up to being people she had seen in the nearby stores. Once, she saw a family of redheads arguing loudly. She had mused what it would be like to have a family of her own. A slim, black headed young man had walked past several times over the last few weeks. He was attractive, she guessed. His hair was messy, and he wore round rimless glasses. He seemed to be constantly looking around, as though he'd lost something.

"Francis, I need to speak with you," said Sister Anne.

"Yes, sister?"

"A young man has come by asking if we had seen this young woman," she said holding out a photograph. "It's you."

Francis took the picture carefully. Her hands were shaking, and she could feel her pulse pounding. Someone was looking for her? After all this time? Or had they just now gotten this far?

"Did he say anything else?"

"He will return this afternoon to meet with you if you are amenable"

"Yes! Oh, I'm sorry sister. I didn't mean to yell."

The older woman smiled gently. "That's all right dear. You are excited. I'll ask the other sisters to pray for a resolution. Maybe this is God's answer. If it isn't, and this turns out to be a case of mistaken identity, nothing will change. You will always be welcome here."

Francis nodded and thanked Sister Anne. As the older woman walked away, thousands of thoughts shot through Francis' mind. She went to her quarters and picked out the pretty dress that she had received from the sisters last Christmas. It was handmade. It was a beautiful maroon bodice with a maroon and gold brocade skirt that came to her ankles. The sleeves were three quarter length and bore gold lace at the cuff. The neckline wasn't as high as one might imagine, having been made by the sisters of a religious order. Still, it fit her well and she thought the color was wonderful.

Just a few hours later, Francis sat in the living room of the guest house. Her nerves were getting the better of her. The Mother Abbess had been by and tried to calm her. "Dear, one of us can sit with you if you like. In fact, it might be best."

"Thank you, Mother. If he really is part of my past, I don't think he'll mean me any harm. If he does, I doubt there is much you could do to protect me," she smiled at the sixty something woman. "Besides, it would take someone with a rather poor opinion of themselves to try and harm a woman in a convent."

The Mother Abbess smiled and said, "Nevertheless, I think it would be a good idea for one of the younger sisters and myself to be in the house."

Nodding in agreement, Francis looked at her hands. "I am hopeful that this for real. But I am also scared. I've been here so long, you have all become my family."

"And we always will be. No matter what the outcome is today, you will always be welcome here."

The two women hugged briefly. Francis wiped her eyes and straightened as someone knocked on the door. "Well, dear. Here you go."

The Mother Abbess stood and walked to the door. "Welcome Mr. Potter. Please come in."