Ch 1. Good Morning To You

A girl of about ten years old yawned, her raven black hair messier than usual and sticking out at odd different angles. Her way-too-large dark grey T-shirt and baggy jeans with holes wet and soggy to the point of leaving a small river of water behind as she walked down 25 Tudor Street at 6:14 in the morning.

She shivered in the cool breeze. Though it was July, she felt cold after being exposed to a chilly shower all night. Well, more like a freezing shower with lightning and thunder to add up in the mix. She had spent all effing night having to dodge lightning bolts and ducking for cover in order not to turn into a fried sardine. She just couldn't believe that the roof of her temporary shelter decided to collapse right in the godamn middle of a stupid storm! And to make things worse, when the thing collapsed it did on top of her supplies! Never mind that it was inches away from her head, but now she had nothing to eat!

She kicked a random pebble in frustration; it had taken all day yesterday to get a hold of that food! Sure, she could go and rummage in the trashcan for some whenever no one was watching, but the food she had was a three days old loaf of bread that she traded in for a battery! A real luxury. And now it was gone.

She sighed.

'Well, at least I managed to save my most precious possession' she thought optimistically as she glanced down at the dirty black book-bag hanging across of her shoulder. It is very important to her, because in it she can carry everything vital for her survival: growing up in the streets of London was no picnic.

She had been living in the streets of London since her seventh birthday.

She accidentally got separated from her relatives when visiting London for god-knows-what and they didn't bother to go find her. Thank Russ for that. For her relatives, her sole purpose in life was to serve and be their slave. She was treated worse than dirt. Even the whole neighborhood was against her, swallowing her relatives' lies and being whispered behind her back everywhere she went by snobbish people who thought scruffyness ought to be punished by law. It was no wonder she had trust issues, specially when adults are concerned. Never did, and never will. Bad things always happens around adults, back then and right now.

You can meet rather twisted people around these parts.

She made a turn, entering Whitefriars Street. She stopped. Someone was there, in front of the London Bakery Shop and occupying half the street, his back to her.

She took a moment to study the individual. Early fifties, looked as if he had forgotten to shave this morning, broad shouldered, big frame, and wearing a clean blue apron with the bakery's logo stitched on it in a bright yellow. A baker? No, the apron was clean and his hands bore no burns or marks. Hands clenching and unclenching; a sign of either A) being anxious, or, B) anger. Cashier? Huh, yeah right. He wouldn't be able to afford such expensive clothes and jewelery with a low-paying salary. The owner, then. He had this air of power around him, as if used to being obeyed all the time... She could vaguely remember that the London Bakery Shop went bankrupt just last year, so does that mean it reopened? She spent this year wandering around more on the east side of London, so she really did not know.

She approached the man from behind as quietly as possible, and tried to get a good look at the gold Rolex watch strapped on his thick wrist. The alarm was on. In fact, it recently went off, about six minutes and twenty eight seconds ago. She took notice of the look of his clothes. His expensive shirt a bit disheveled, and one of the hems of his pants wrinkled up, showing a big part of his ankle.

Not only that, but he looked kinda familiar...

She searched inside her brain, looking through images, memories, and newspaper articles, matching faces and crimes, until finally she hit the jackpot:

Waldo Gentalucci, famous for shutting down small businesses and then usurping them. Doesn't like competition and got himself landed in prison for beating a poor soul up last year and had been released about a month ago. According to Hawk Vision, a feeble, old, homeless blind woman – who so happens to be a black belt in taekwondo – he also enjoys selling drugs and other illegal items at a ridiculously high price. This, of course, isn't known to the general public. Though blind and old, that might-be-crippled woman knows everything going on in her territory. What she lost in sight she made up in hearing.

Her brain observed and deducted all that information in one glance. People tended to forget that she was mute, not stupid. In fact, some would call her genius if they knew.

She wasn't completely sure that that Gentalucci was the man right in front of her at the very moment, it was just a guess, but she had this feeling that there was a reason that the guy was there.

A man looking as if waiting for someone... that street... owner of London Bakery Shop...

Bakery. Furious owner. Fresh bread. Flooded street due to storm. Storm. Storm...?

Aw fuck.

She felt her muscles tense, then relax. She slowly retreated backwards, one step at the time.

A furious business owner ready for action and looking for something down the very street she had taken shelter in about a week ago? She felt like beating herself up with a stick.

Rule Number 3 of Surviving Shadow London: Don't ever settle down somewhere for more than five days.

Reasons being:

A) People tend to get violent towards the homeless. Specially snobby rich ones.

B) One word: Cops.

C) What's the use of stealing food if you end up dead in an alley?

D) People tend to put the blame on you for everything going missing even if you didn't do it.

This man was looking for her.

Better get out ASAP. She had her book-bag with her, so...

She inched closer to the shadows, careful not to give her position away.

"THERE YOU ARE, YOU LITTLE THIEF!"

Shit.

She wasted no time in making her escape. She sprinted through Whitefriars Street, and mentally cursed as she heard the rich dude pursuing her from behind.

"COME HERE, YOU THIEVING RAT!"

She rolled her eyes. Yup, she would just love to go straight to the guy who wanted to beat her up. Not a very smart idea, seeing as the guy has a reputation. Did she mention that the reason he landed himself in prison was for beating up some other thief half to death? Exactly.

She made two right turns, one left, and sprinted through Hutton Street without breaking a sweat. Never try to outrun her; it is a lost cause. She looked behind her and saw that he was still after her, sweat gleaming on the guy's forehead. She turned again around a corner in order to completely lose him.

Instead, she felt herself slamming against a sturdy body and fell on her butt. By instinct, she swept her right leg in order to trip this new annoyance, but failed when the body jumped. She did a quick follow-up by kicking to the knee, but again the body dodged, this time by taking a small step backwards.

"Really, you would have thought that I would know how to dodge your little kicks by now," said the body. She froze. She looked up from the ground, and recognized the person immediately.

Officer Hugo towered over her, giving her a victorious smirk.

"Why, good morning laddie. How is Scotland Yard's most annoying pain in the butt?"

She looked at Officer Hugo boredly. Internally, her brain was racing. Officer Hugo was a man in his mid-twenties that has chestnut colored hair, dark eyes, and a particular obsession of wanting to arrest her ever since she first avoided capture when she was eight. By throwing a balloon filled with neon pink paint. And a cat. A very fat cat. Let's just say he never got around the idea of a scrawny eight-year-old midget outwitting him. He won't stop until the day she is captured. Fat chance.

Officer Hugo grabbed her by the arm hard and brought the all-too-familiar handcuffs down, but at the last second she used the momentum that he oh so generously just gave her to push him out of balance and successfully freeing her hand by turning said hand to the side and away of the man's thumb. She lifted her left leg and Officer Hugo fell flat on his back.

She suddenly felt someone embrace her small body from behind, effectively locking both her arms from mobility as the unknown attacker lifted her up.

"Got'cha!" said the attacker. That voice sounded familiar...

"I had it under control!" Officer Hugo said disdainfully, getting back up. "No need to interrupt my work!"

"You're not the only one out to get this little laddie, you know!" The voice said.

Oh great. Just what she needed right now.

"Fuck off Detective Hudson," Officer Hugo snapped. She turned her head slightly to the side, and was greeted by Detective Hudson's kind face. She tried wiggling her body, but Detective Hudson just tightened his grip, due to... past experiences.

"Now, now, don't go off swearing in front of children," Hudson mock-chastised. She rolled her eyes at that. Seriously, she probably knew more swear words than them!

"Lay off, she's my catch!" Hugo bit out. Between those two, she honestly had no idea which one wanted to capture her the most. Great.

"I believe," said someone else, "that thing should be handed over to me."

Oh, so now she was a 'thing.' Gee, can't they come up with something new?

Hudson turned to see who had spoken, and in turn allowed her to see who, since she was still trapped.

The rich business owner.

Oh for Russ' sake, she still hadn't eaten any breakfast yet! Though she usually didn't have any breakfast... but that's not the point.

"And why is that?" Officer Hugo asked, raising an eyebrow.

"That thief stole from me! I demand you give the rat to me, or else!" the man threatened. She rolled her eyes. It was moments like these that she would love to retort a 'prove it' or a 'I didn't do it!' because frankly, she didn't. Not this time, anyway. She only stole during the winter or when she was desperate enough to do it. She didn't enjoy it, and she needed the money she earned doing odd jobs here and there during the summer to buy medicine for the winter.

Hugo narrowed his eyes at the rich-owner-who-probably-is-a-gangster of London Bakery Shop. "Or else, what?"

Those three words triggered the bomb.

The rich bakery owner shouted a battle cry and lunged at her and the detective. Hudson, startled, let go of her and she took the opportunity to glide out of the detective's reach. Hudson dodged last second and the stupid owner punched thin air. He turned around, and his eyes settled on her, but before covering much ground Officer Hugo executed a pretty darn good tackle and both fell to the ground, hard, like a brick left to gravity's mercy.

"Hey Hudson! Get laddie!" Hugo shouted as he tried to wrestle the squirming rich dude on the ground.

Hudson turned to where the ten-year-old mute whom they nicknamed 'laddie' stood about a minute ago, and was met with...

Hugo swore colorfully and Hudson sighed exasperatedly.

She was gone. Again.

"Hey, isn't this Waldo Gentalucci?"

So, what'cha think? Like it? Hate it? Review! This is going to be a novel, and I will try to update weekly. I am also working on Naruto Undercover Ninja, and I am planning on finishing both. This story, is Her first year at Hogwarts and I have great plans for this story, even if it only gets one measly review. Why? Because I had SO much fun writing this :D ! Also, you will find that this is a rather original idea, and I promise that it will get really good. This is just the beginning, and I have lots of characters invented by moi. Like, three or six. Also, a little preview: she will be in the same year as the Weasley Twins!

Also: Did you guys notice... HA! If someone noticed something...peculiar...review and the first one to guess will get a cookie! :D