Finding Families

A/N: I own nothing and make no money. For my own fun and fiction.

Title: Families

Warnings: Abuse, Character Deaths, Slash, OoCnes! OC

Summary: Harry is betrayed by the wizarding world. When he has no way out, who will he meet? Takes place in Harry’s seventh year.

Chapter 2 – A Friend

“I wouldn’t eat that, if I were you.”

Harry looked around. He didn’t see anyone, and he though he might have imagined the voice.

“Your glasses are by your left foot,” Harry blinked and felt down, fingers coming in contact with the rims of his glasses. He slipped them onto his face and looked around.

His eyes traveled to the cell across from his, the cell that he had originally assumed to be empty. Standing there, gripping the bars was a small girl with long, dirty, black, matted hair. Her clothes hung off her thin frame, and her eyes had slight rings under them. Her eyes were silver. The rims of the irises were a dark silver that lightened as it reached her pupils. Looking at her, she could not have been more than seven, she was so small. The hair hung down near her eyes, and as she pushed it back behind her ears, he saw that they ended in a point.

Harry realized he was still holding the meat in his hand, and his stomach was still demanding it. He could see her clearly, by the pushed the though from his mind.

“What?” His voice sounded hoarse, even to him.

“It’s poisoned,” she spoke quietly, observing him. She watched intently as he lowered his hand reluctantly.

“Oh. Harry tried not to let any of the disappointment or alarm he felt show, but he must have let it cross his face briefly because the girl smiled.

“You can drink the water, that’s fine. So’s the carrots, squash, and broccoli. He didn’t put any poison in those.”

Harry looked at her in surprise.

“They are trying to kill me?” His mind went numb.

“Apparently. But they aren’t trying very hard. Just a few drops on the meat before he left. I think they forget that I am here. So, what are you in here for? You don’t have the look of a killer to you.”

Harry shifted uncomfortably, wiping his hand on the ground near the plate, trying to get as much of the poisoned food off his hand as possible before he went after the vegetables. They were plain, but tasted like the best thing he had tasted in days.

“I was framed. A man I used to trust killed one of my teachers, then made it look like I’d tortured and killed three of my best friends.” Harry could still remember Ginny’s tearful, hurt and angry face at his trial, sitting at the back behind all the stern wizards and witches who had sentenced him. “I no longer care for him. I am considering joining with the man he has had me fighting ever since I was a baby.”

The girl smiled.

“I didn’t do anything either. I woke up in a strange place, and met a man with a long white beard. I told him who I was, and his eyes turned cold, like ice. Next thing I knew, I was here. Sometimes they poison your food, sometimes not. They forget that I am here, so they don’t care. I don’t eat much of what they give me. And usually the poison causes a slight color change in the food. Makes it yellow. I don’t touch anything yellow. Sometimes that means I can’t eat anything.” She shrugged. “You get used to it.”

Harry watched her fold her legs under herself and look at him quizzically. Looking just to her right. She had a simple wooden bowl, spoon, and cup.

“Why was I given nice dishes? What did you have to eat?”

“Oh, they wanted to impress you so you’d eat. They’ve been poisoning my porridge for the past two days. Don’t worry about it. Once I couldn’t eat for a week. I’ve gotten better over the past few years.”

Harry suddenly realized something. The old man. Dumbledore. He had locked this little girl up.

“How old are you?”

“I’m seven, I was four when I was dumped in here, I think. I have few memories of anywhere besides this cell. Oh, by the way, dementors don’t come here much. Neither does anyone else for that matter. Today they made an exception for you, I think. And you can talk to your friend as much as you want.” She smiled, turned and walked to the back of her cell.

Harry suddenly panicked.

“How-How did you know I was talking to someone in my head?” Harry was grasping the bars of his cell, watching her, his green eyes wide with fear. She turned back to him, her silver eyes serious.

“When you opened your eyes they were out of focus, and it was as if you weren’t there. There was also a ring of red around your eyes. What can I call you?” She was smiling again, and Harry answered without hesitation.

“Harry. Harry Potter.”

She smiled and bid him goodnight, saying she was going to sleep, and curled up under her cot, again looking like nothing bus a formless pile of rags. Harry assumed that it was warmer if she was surrounded in the raggedy blanket.

Turning back to his plate, he at the vegetables, and drank the water, mentally wishing a nasty disease on Dumbledore.

Elsewhere, walking down a hall Albus Dumbledore sneezed twice, and tripped over the hem of his robes.

‘Someone must be talking about me.’

In a manor farther away, a wizard with red eyes was making plans for a breakout from Azkaban prison.