It was storming that night. The wind snapped branches off trees and the rain poured sideways. There were no cars on the road, no people walking about, and no birds in the air. Everyone was inside their homes, sheltered from the weather and cuddled up beside warm fires.
A tall man stood on an old wooden porch and though he should have been dripping wet he remained untouched by the falling water, as did the precious package in his arms. The raven haired man lifted a strong arm and knocked on the painted door thrice, waiting stoically for it to be answered. There were loud footsteps and a muffled cuss before it swung open to reveal a grumpy middle aged man in overalls and a truckers cap, scowling at his visitor. A hand drifted up to scratch the beginnings of a beard as he growled, "What?"
"Bobby Singer," the man spoke loudly so he could hear over the crashing thunder. There was a beat as Bobby waited for him to continue, but the stranger just continued to stare unblinkingly.
"Yeah?" he snapped impatiently, anxious to get back to researching what his friend Rufus was sure was some kind of vampire cult over in Nebraska.
"This child has a destiny more important and grave than you can fathom. She is a witch and though it goes against all you know and believe, she is good."
"Excuse me?" Bobby hissed, his hand crawling to the knife stashed in his pocket. His muscles tensed as he readied himself for a potential fight.
"You'll find everything you'll need for her well-being already inside."
The man said nothing more, simply pushing the baby delicately over into his own arms. He had never been more confused. Instincts took over and he cradled it's head and clutched it to his body to shield it from the deadly weather. He looked down into it's large brown eyes and something inside of him twinged. The baby couldn't have yet turned one, but was already sporting thick dark hair on it's oval head.
The eyes blinked, breaking Bobby from his trance and he looked up at the stranger again, opening his mouth to speak. He didn't get the chance as two fingers lightly pressed to his temple, effectively butting him off. His eyes grew dazed and his face fell slack as the strange man carried out his orders and manipulated his mind just that little bit, swaying the gruff man to accept the child into his life and home along with the knowledge that her strand of power was good and pure.
Bobby sucked in a deep breath as the stranger removed his warm fingers and he clutched the child to his chest just that little bit tighter. He looked up at the man on his porch, the ability to speak alluding him for the moment.
The man smiled slightly, bowing his head and turned to leave, but not without speaking one more time.
"Her name is Hermione."
Then Bobby blinked. He was standing alone in his doorway, holding his daughter to his chest protectively. He wasn't sure why he was out here, all he knew was he had to get her inside out of the cold. She let out a low cry and he rocked her softly, hushed her quietly.
"It's okay Hermione, it's okay. C'mon, let's get you rugged up and ready for bed," he mumbled to her as he shut the door and made his way back to the lounge room where her milk and the fire awaited.