A/N: That's Magnus Bane, High Warlock of Brooklyn. He's, like, epically fabulous and perfect and I love him so yeah.

Warlocks shouldn't raise other warlocks...

Magnus Bane never tells anyone his real age. Through his many years he'd seen life created and ripped away just as fast. It's why he'd never gotten completely attached to most mundanes; they came and they aged and they left. They actually all died. Those are the perks of being a warlock. Immortal with few immortal friends, forced to be almost completely alone your entire life. 

 Warlocks can't even have children. Save for Theresa Gray, who is the only half-Shadowhunter half-demon warlock known. Magnus has always envied her, if only a little, for that ability. She had the joy of parenthood, while he never will. No other warlock ever will. 

Until 1992. 

He was at home, reading Pride And Prejudice at Tessa's decade long requests and botherings, when his neighbor Ms. Miller began screaming. Perhaps she is going into labor, Magnus thought, reading another page of his book whilst ignoring the ruckus from the widow's apartment. After a moment, he looked back up, folding down the corner of his page and tossing the book aside, "She gave birth nine months ago..."

He stood quickly and made his way to his door. If there was trouble he may have to step in, given the correct circumstances. Plus, if he wanted to finish his not-so-thrilling book he'd need the peace. 

In opening the door, Ms. Miller was rushing past, towards the steps. She was shaking, from fear or fury Magnus knew not which, and cursing under her breath about 'creepy-ass cat eyes.' Seeing Magnus step from his apartment, she almost shouted at him. Almost. Not quite, but her voice was fairly loud, "Don't go in there! There is a creature of unknown origin lurking, it's taken the shape of my baby! I am about to call the police, do not worry."

Magnus flicked his wrist and the estranged woman collapsed on the floor. Magnus, however, stepped over her and into her completely destroyed home. Tables upturned, torn couch cushions strewn everywhere. The tasteless brown curtains where askew, as if someone had grabbed them and pulled in an attempt to rip them off the wall, or steady themself.

The wooden crib in the middle of the room was tipped on it's side, several rungs broken and scattered across the soaking wet carpet. The crib itself was vacated by it's should-be inhabitant, making Magnus look slowly around. No source of life as far as he could see.

That is until he heard the small whimpers from under the window and behind the couch. Slowly, Magnus stepped around the shattered baby-bottle and milk stain and followed the water trail to peer around the long, off-orange piece of furniture. There he found a cowering nine month old girl, dripping water. Her blonde-brown hair, though far too long to belong to a baby, was hanging around her face in clumps, shielding her face from Magnus. Her hands were over her face as well, and she sounded as if she were crying. 

Something deep within Magnus clicked and he immediately became even more concerned. He knelt down so he was eye level with the girl and spoke in a quiet voice, "Hey there."

The girl gave a start and uncovered her face, looking at Magnus with wide eyes. He was taken aback when he saw bright green cat eyes, infused with streaks of turquoise. There was utter fear behind her look. She began shaking and backed away from Magnus, who slowly reached out a hand, "Shh... It's okay, I'm not going to hurt you."

She only stopped when she hit the wall, and even then her knees were brought up to her chest, arms wrapped around them and head buried into her small arms. Magnus stood and followed her and, not knowing what else to do, picked her up. She gave no noise or action of protest, either, and this only gave him the encouragement he needed. 

 He was not going to leave this girl. He was not going to give her up for adoption, and he vowed never to report this incident to the police. Ms. Miller may very well, and for all Magnus cared she should. When they showed up, he will have official papers stating the girl's adoption to him and Ms. Miller would most likely be put in a mental institute if he didn't do anything to her first. 

A/N: Alright, so if it was not very clear, Ms. Miller had attempted to drown her baby, which is why she's all wet and there's water all everywhere...

MAGNUS BANE IS DAMN PERFECT I CANNOT STRESS THAT ENOUGH JAMMIT

Anyhoe, yeah... I was very bored so I started this story and I posted it here because why the fuck not. :)