Startled at first by the feel of the girl's tiny arms around her, Hermione froze. Maisie's renewed cries softened the older witch. Maybe some would find it odd that she wrapped her arms around the terrified child who was a product of an illicit affair between her husband and a woman she loathed to offer her comfort, but it felt right to Hermione. How could she be angry with an innocent child? Especially one who had been ripped out of bed away from her mother by a madman and dumped on a dark street all alone? Just as it wasn't Oliver's fault that he was born with two horrible parents, it wasn't Maisie's fault either. No matter what happened next, no matter what the future brought for either of them, she knew that her anger would always be placed right where it belonged: at the feet of the poor girl's parents.