Song: Alyssa Lies (rewritten for HP)-Jason Michael Carrol

If you or someone you know is being abused, please call 1-800-4-A-CHILD (USA) or 0808-800-5000 (UK). Child abuse is wrong and a stop must be put to it!

Disclaimer: Don't own anything.

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My little girl met a new friend,
just the other day,
in the common room at school
between the chairs and the fire

Annabelle Handly tentatively stepped into the red and gold of the Gryffindor common room. At eleven years old, she was newly sorted and while she was amazed by the sheer size of Hogwarts, she was frightened to be on her own in such an unfamiliar place.

Her big blue eyes darted around the room, taking in the cozy arm chairs, roaring fire, and pictures that moved and talked. You see, Annabelle was muggle born. She only just found out about the existence of magic about a month ago, on her birthday, August 3rd. She was now expected to live and thrive in this new environment. This, in fact, was not easy.

The room was fairly crowded, children and teenagers mulling about and catching up. She felt left out and alone. She knew no one and there were only four new Gryffindors, and she couldn't seem to locate any of them. Spying an open chair, she sprinted over and practically fell into it, breathing a sigh of relief and contentment.

"You like that chair, huh?" a voice questioned from nearby.

Blue orbs shooting open, the young girl stuttered, "Y-yeah, it's n-nice."

"Hey, there's no reason to be scared. Hogwarts is really fun, I promise. My name is Harry, I'm a third year. You're new, right? What's your name?" The boy questioned kindly.

Gulping, Annabelle offered him a small smile in return for his kindness, "My name is Annabelle. I'm new. Uhm…do all of the pictures move?" The animated pictures were starting to freak her out, honestly.

Harry chuckled but stopped quickly, a look of pain flashing across his face before it disappeared. He quickly answered, "Yeah, they do. You must be muggle born. I was just like you." Annabelle's eyes narrowed at him slightly, trying to look closer at him, his quick cut off of his laughter tipping her off.

He was holding himself awkwardly in the chair, his back ramrod straight so that it touched nothing; his green eyes slightly clouded with something Annabelle knew all too well, pain.

Her appraisal only took a few seconds, but her eyes now held worry for her new friend. Remembering that she was, in fact, in the middle of a conversation, she answered, "Why were you like me?"

"My parents died when I was a baby," Harry figured if she hadn't recognized him by now, as a muggle born, she probably knew nothing of him. "I was raised by my muggle Aunt and Uncle. They didn't like magic so I didn't know about magic until Hagrid, -the really big giant, you remember him from the platform? - came to get me."

"Oh," Annabelle said, trying to piece everything together, "why did he have to-"

"You know, Annabelle, I'm really tired, I think I'm going to hit the sack. It was nice talking to you." And with that, Harry stood up slowly (though he never would want anyone to think it was slow). His face was pulled tight as he got up, a hiss escaping from between his teeth. Annabelle doubted anyone had noticed it but her.

Most people would ignore Harry's little slip ups. But Annabelle couldn't, for she understood.

But she wrote home with tear-filled eyes,
and she said to me "Daddy, Harry lies"

Annabelle watched the boy leave, his slight limp not escaping her scrutiny. She watched him struggle up the stairs (okay, struggle was an overstatement to most. To the majority, he looked like any other boy climbing the stairs to bed. To her trained eyes, she saw the energy and pain it took just to go to bed, his knuckles white from gripping the banister.)

With a great sigh, Annabelle heaved her skinny frame off of the red chair. She could feel the stinging in her eyes, Harry's secret predicament dredging up painful memories that were better left alone. She needed to talk to her Dad, wanted to more than anything.

Taking the stairs two at a time, she quickly reached the first year dormitory to find it mercifully empty. She ran to her new trunk and removed a piece of parchment and a muggle pen (hey, quills were just too much work for simple things like letters).

Throwing herself to the ground, Annabelle drew the paper in front of her and let a single tear fall from her burning blue eyes.

Daddy,

I know you want to hear all about school right now but there is something more important I need to talk to you about right now.

I met a boy in the common room today. His name is Harry and I'm so worried for him, Dad. It's so obvious to me that he's hurting so bad and no one notices. I think he's being abused like my parents did to me and it makes me so sad. He is trying really hard to cover it up but I can see how he limps a little and hisses when he moves or laughs. He didn't say a lot but he said his parents died when he was a baby and he lives with his aunt and uncle who don't like magic. I can just see that he's hurting so bad, Daddy, and no one cares.

Why do kids lie when they need help? I know I lied but I now know that lying only makes it worse. And Daddy, Harry lies.

I don't know what to do and thinking about Harry makes me think of my old mom and dad and I don't want to think about that. Please help him daddy what am I going to do?

I miss you.

Lots of love,

Annabelle

Sitting up, Annabelle rolled her letter up to be sent tomorrow before breakfast. She quickly changed into her new Hogwarts pajamas before climbing into her giant four poster bed, ready for a sleepless night plagued by abusive families and dark rooms.


Well I just brushed it off at first,
'cause I didn't know how much my little girl had been hurt
or the things she had seen.
I wasn't ready when I said "You can tell me"

It was midday on September 2nd, and Jack Handly was sitting alone at his kitchen table. He was home from his job as an engineer for lunch. Foremost on his mind was Annabelle, what a shock it had been to find out that not only was magic real, but his daughter was in fact, a witch.

His musings were soon interrupted by a grey barn owl swooping through his kitchen window. He jumped up to retrieve the letter from the owl, excited to hear about Annabelle's arrival at school. The owl nipped his finger affectionately as he unfurled the parchment, smirking at his daughters use of a pen after they bought many quills.

As he read on, his fingers tightened on the old yellow paper and a frown found a home on his face. If he had been expecting anything from his daughter, it had not been a plea for help for a friend.

He sat down at the table while rereading the letter, silently picking up a pen. He had adopted Annabelle when she was nearly nine. She had been frightened of everything and everyone. She had been traumatized, having just been rescued from horrible abuse. Annabelle had changed so much since then and he was so proud of her. Her compassion for others was just overwhelming. Jack flipped over her letter and soon began to formulate an answer for his only daughter.

My dearest Annabelle,

I am sorry to hear of young Harry's problem. I'm glad you told me, just know that you can always talk to me. While it is true that Harry might have a problem at home, you of all people should know he can not be helped unless he wants help himself. And just think, he attends a boarding school. So if his home situation is indeed abusive, he is only there for two months every year. I'm very glad you care though, and I'm sure Harry would be too.

As for your question as to why children who need help lie, I think they lie because they're scared. Adults have told them bad things will happen if they let the truth slip, and it frightens them into silence. Am I right? If you really want to help Harry, try talking to him. Maybe if he trusts you a lot, he might open up.

How was the train ride? Have you made any friends besides Harry? How is the school, is it big? I hope you're having fun honey, and don't forget, though miles separate us, I'll always be here when you need me.

I miss you, too, Honey.

All the love in the world,

Daddy

Standing up, still unsure if his reply had been adequate, Jack handed the parchment to the owl. Taking it, the owl flew off into the distance, towards the daughter he missed so dearly.


and she said...
"Harry lies to the classroom,
Harry lies everyday at school,
Harry lies to the teachers
as he tries to cover every bruise"

Snow was falling softly from the ceiling of the great hall as the students filed in for dinner. It was now the middle of December and the school year was going fast. Tomorrow the children who wished to return home for the holidays would be leaving to celebrate with their families.

Annabelle was ecstatic to see her Dad again and tell him about her months at school, which had gone surprisingly well. Tales of professors who turned into cats and evil potions masters were already at the tip of her tongue.

Taking her seat next to Harry, Annabelle couldn't help but smile. Over the past few months, she had grown very close to Harry. She was now best friends with the boy who was two years her senior, as well as pretty close friends with his friends, Ron and Hermione. They were funny and nice and she loved them all, her makeshift school family.

As soon as the students were seated, Professor Albus Dumbledore stood up, clearing his throat. The hall immediately became silent as hundreds of heads turned to face the elderly wizard.

"Good evening, my students," He began. "I hope you all have had an exciting and knowledgeable first semester here at school.

"I know you're all excited to return home for the holidays," Annabelle looked at Harry. He had no expression on his face as he watched Dumbledore.

Dumbledore continued, "But for the few who elected to stay the holidays here at Hogwarts, I have some news you might not find pleasing. You see, about every ten years we do not allow students to spend their holidays here. We do this to both strengthen the protections and wards around the castle and to give teachers a must needed complete break. Unfortunately, this year happens to be one of those years. Students who were planning on staying the break, please come see me after dinner. Thank you and eat up!" And with that, food appeared on the four tables, kids quickly digging in.

Peeking a glance at her best friend, Annabelle was frightened herself. His eyes were wide in terror, his plate empty for nerves probably were preventing him from eating.

"Harry…" she began, only to be interrupted by Ron, his mouth full of food.

"What's wrong, mate?"

Harry shook his head, putting up the guard he had momentarily allowed to fall, "Nothing. Nothing." He reached for some peas.

Hermione gave it a try, "Harry, I know you hate going back to the Dursley's, but maybe it will be nice to spend a holiday with them."

Harry didn't say anything for a moment, then he whispered, "Yeah, maybe."

As soon as the meal was over, Harry bolted out of his seat without saying anything, racing after the trailing form of Dumbledore.

"Sir!" He yelled, running through an empty corridor after the Headmaster.

The old wizard turned and smiled at Harry. "Harry, my boy, how are you?"

"Uhm…I'm okay sir. I was just wondering if maybe I could go to Ron's for Christmas? Please, sir?"

Dumbledore laid his hand on Harry's shoulder, missing the slight flinch this action received. "Harry, you know I can't let you do that. The blood wards need to protect you when you are not at school."

Harry gulped, "Please sir, I really…I just can't go back there."

"Why ever not?"

"I just…can't," Harry said softly, looking at the floor.

Dumbledore lifted his hand and patted him on the shoulder. "Go back to your family Harry, enjoy the holidays with them. I will see you January first."

And with that, Dumbledore walked away, leaving a thirteen boy in frightened anticipation of what he knew was to come.


My little girl laid her head down that night to go to sleep.
As I stepped out the room, I heard her say a prayer so soft and sweet
"God bless my mom and my Dad
and my new friend, Harry
*oh* I know he needs you bad

"DADDY!" Annabelle squealed, running across the platform into her Father's arms. He picked her up and swung her around.

"Annabelle! How are you, baby?" Jack asked, holding her tight. How he had missed her while she was at school.

The small girl was quiet for a moment as she peered over his shoulder, watching Harry. He was standing alone, looking around, probably for his family. Then, all of a sudden, a gigantic man appeared, roughly grabbing Harry's shoulder. He growled a few things she couldn't hear to Harry, and then shook him roughly for a moment. He then steered the boy roughly away, the evil man's eyes darting every which way, daring someone to say something.

"Daddy…" Annabelle said quietly. Her daddy could tell that she was close to tears. "Belle, what's wrong?"

"Harry," she answered quietly.

He turned around so he could see from her point of view, just in time to see an obese man pushing a small boy out of the station.

"That's Harry?" He questioned.

He felt her nod into his shoulder, as well as the wetness that was now soaking into her shirt. The fact that Annabelle cried so quietly still shook him up, a testament to the horrible abuse she had endured.

"He's going to be alright," Jack said, hoping for the best for that little boy.

Burying her head further into his shoulder, she choked out, "I don't-I don't think he will."

"Don't say things like that baby, I'm sure he'll be fine."

Annabelle just shook her head.

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Night had fallen quickly upon the Handly household. After the night of catching up, Jack was now walking Annabelle upstairs to put her to bed. Giving her a gentle push, he said "Go on and brush your teeth."

"Kay, daddy," she said, walking ahead towards the bathroom.

As she brushed her teeth, Jack gazed at a picture of his wife that hung on the wall. She had passed away in a tragic car accident just last year. He shook his head quietly, the trauma Annabelle had been through in her life was enormous, yet she was so kind and caring. The power of her spirit never ceased to amaze him.

"Ready for bed? Let's go," Jack said to his daughter, who was clad in a purple nightgown.

"Yes, Daddy," She replied, walking along with her Dad in a side hug.

Upon reaching her room, Annabelle climbed into her bed, smiling at being home again. Jack swiftly kissed her forehead, whispering, "I love you, Belle."

She answered back with, "I love you too, Daddy. More than anything!"

He smiled, eyes slightly wet at the good fortune of having such an amazing daughter back home with him.

As he walked out of her room, he said, "Night Belle, don't let the bed bugs bite!"

He heard her giggle. He stood outside her room for a few seconds, just taking in the fact that she was home for a few short weeks. How he had missed her. His thoughts were interrupted when he heard a small voice from inside her room.

"God bless my mom and my dad,

and my new friend Harry,

oh, I know he needs you bad."


Because Harry lies to the classroom,
Harry lies everyday at school,
Harry lies to the teachers
as he tries to cover every bruise"


Jack shot up from bed, a blood curdling scream still ringing throughout the house.

He sprinted towards Anabelle's room, worry filling his very being. As he reached her bed, he found her silently crying, pleading, "No, no, mommy I promise I'll be good…don't hurt me…no…".

Her pleas tugged at his heartstrings and he sat down gently on the side of her bed. He reached out to stroke her brunette hair and she violently flinched away.

"Please…no…" Jack's insides clenched at the realization that she was flashing back to her abusive past.

"Annabelle," he whispered, "You're safe baby. No one is going to hurt you." He was softly stroking her back, trying to ease her back into reality.

The little girl finally opened her eyes and promptly burst into tears. "Daddy!" she cried, flinging her small form into his arms. "H-how can people d-do that to their own kids?"

Holding back tears of his own, her daddy whispered, "I don't know Annabelle. I honestly don't know. How about you tell me what happened?"

Annabelle hiccupped and shook her head.

"Please baby…it will make you feel better. I promise you're safe and you can tell me anything.

She clutched her daddy tighter and began in a tearful voice, "It was a-about my mom and d-dad."

Jack held her closer to his side and asked, "What did they do to you, honey?"

Hiccuping through her tears again, Annabelle said quietly, "They had locked me in the b-basement for a long time. I was really hungry and they wouldn't give me any food. I started feeling sick so I started crying. T-Then my mommy came down and beat me with her belt. She wouldn't stop, e-even when I begged her."

Jack swallowed a lump in his throat. As many stories he had heard from Annabelle that were akin to this, he never got used to hearing about her sufferings.

"Did that really happen Annabelle?"

She nodded, burying her face into his side.

Rubbing her back softly, he assured her, "You're safe now Belle. No one is ever going to hurt you again."

She lifted her head from his side and looked him in the face, eyes shining and tear tracks glistening, "I know. But Harry isn't safe."


I had the worst night of sleep in years
as I tried to think of a way to calm her fears
I knew just what it was I had to do
but when we got to the train on Monday I heard the news

I looked into her face. Her eyes were so hopeful, hopeful that I would help her friend the way I had helped her.

I silently made a vow to myself. She genuinely wanted-needed-to help her friend and I knew that that was what we needed to do. Harry needed help and we were going to help him. I decided to make a call to Child Protective Services as soon as I put Annabelle on the train tomorrow morning.

"He will be. We're going to help him Annabelle. He'll be safe soon, just like you."

Annabelle hugged her Daddy, then looked into his eyes and whispered, "Thank you."

Jack smiled and said, "You should get to bed now, Belle." He stood up to leave, only to have his hand grabbed quickly.

Her eyes were flashing with fear, "No, please don't leave me."

And he didn't. He spent the rest of the night sharing a bed with his beautiful daughter, keeping her safe.

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Annabelle's trolley was laden with school items as she walked towards the column between platforms nine and ten, her Dad by her side. While they were extraordinarily close all of the time, they were inseparable after traumatic nights like the previous.

Taking a deep breath, the duo walked through the barrier, only to be met by a solemn sight. It seemed that everyone was subdued and you could see that many were crying.

A man who had been next to Hermione walked quickly to Jack's side, leaning in so Annabelle could not hear, and whispered, "Harry's dead. It was his Aunt and Uncle."


My little girl asked me why everybody looked so sad
the lump in my throat grew bigger
with every question that she asked.
Until I felt the tears run down my face
and I told her that Harry wouldn't be at school again

Jack took a deep breath and tightened his grip on his daughter's shoulder as Hermione's father returned to his family. It seemed that the help they were planning on extending to Harry was going to come too late.

Annabelle looked up with her big blue eyes and asked, "Daddy, why is everyone so sad? What's wrong? Wait…where is Harry?"

Tears spilled from her father's eyes at her questions. Trying to wipe away his tears, he kneeled down next to his little girl.

"Annabelle…Harry won't be at school again."

Tears filled her eyes but she didn't allow them to fall. "W-why not?" She choked out, the effort of holding back her tears interrupting her speech.

Jack bowed his head and then looked back up at her.

Her eyes widened as she questioned, "It was his family, wasn't it? Wasn't it?"

His small nod of affirmation made Annabelle burst into tears. Shaking her head while muttering "No…no…no…" over and over again, she leapt into her father's waiting embrace.

Her father rubbed her hair as he let his own tears fall silently. His nonaction had resulted in this little boy's death at the hands of his family. Hadn't he watched him go, while being manhandled by that obese man? How could he have thought that that skinny little boy would have stood a chance against such a cruel and evil giant?

Annabelle's tearful voice now rang loudly in his ear, "W-why? Why did he have to die? T-that could have b-been m-me."

"And I'm so glad it wasn't, baby. I love you so much."

"B-but Harry was s-so nice," she sobbed, shaking her head.

"I'm sure he was baby…I'm sure he was," Jack answered quietly.

Annabelle and her father's grief was not in any way alone. All around students and their parents were crying over a lost friend that no one heard. Harry's young death had been preventable, yet no one had stopped it, and that guilt had settled onto every soul.


'Cause he doesn't lie in the classroom
he doesn't lie anymore at school
Harry lies with Jesus
because there's nothin' anyone would do


The beginning of classes had been postponed, and the entire school and more was now seated on the lawn of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, to honor a life lost too soon.

Annabelle was seated in the first row, along with Hermione, Ron, the other third year Gryffindors, the Headmaster, Professor McGonagall, and the Minister of Magic.

The air was thick with grief and guilt as Professor Dumbledore stood up to start the memorial. He moved slowly toward the podium that was placed next to the pure white casket, seeming to have aged one hundred years since Harry's death.

"Harry," He began, gripping the sides of the podium, "was an amazing little boy. His attitude was always exuberant, despite the horrendous abuse we now know he endured at the hands of his relatives."

A few people lowered their heads, dabbing at their eyes with handkerchiefs and tissues.

"The guilt I know we all feel at his preterm death is undeserved. No one should feel guilty for his death except for those whose hands he perished at." A few people in the audience nodded.

"We all know Harry's story. He defeated He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named at the mere age of one. During that battle, he lost both of his parents, who loved him very much. He was then placed with his only living relatives, who showed Harry nothing but abuse. It has now come to light that Harry suffered physical and emotional abuse as well as neglect for twelve years of his life, yet his spirit was still so bright, it was impossible to tell. Harry is now safe for one of the first times in his short life of thirteen years, in the arms of his parents. Anyone who would like to speak may now come up."

Dumbledore then stepped down, watching people look around and whisper to each other. It seems no one really knew what to say.

Therefore, it was surprising to everyone when a very small girl stood up in the front row, standing tall despite her red eyes, as she stepped towards the podium.


Tears filled my eyes when my little girl asked me why
Harry lies
*Oh Daddy, oh* Daddy tell me why
Harry lies

Annabelle quickly got up on the podium, after stopping for a moment to brush her delicate hand on top of Harry's casket. She then looked out into the mass of mourners. Her heart was fluttering in fear and anticipation but she felt that she needed to make Harry's life leave a mark on the world.

"First off, I just want to say that Harry was my best friend," she began, "and I miss him so much." Looking towards the blue sky, she said, "I love you Harry, and I'm so sorry I didn't help you."

Turning her head back towards the crowd, Annabelle said, "But I want to help Harry's life leave a mark, I want his life to change lives. You see, Harry and I both came from the same beginning. My parents abused me horribly like Harry's relatives did to him."

The mass looked shocked and a little unsettled by this revelation. They seemed unsure as to where this was heading.

"But the difference between Harry and I is that our endings are much different. After a school program on child abuse when I was 8 years old, I came forward. I broke the silence that had held me for so long, and I told. I was removed from my abusive parents and have since found a loving family.

"But Harry was different. He kept the silence, the secret burden that so many carry. That isn't right and it isn't okay…if someone is hurting you, say something. I'm not in any way blaming Harry or anything, for I know what it's like to be scared into silence. But I'm now using Harry's story and life in a way I know he would have liked-to help others.

"So, please, please, please, tell someone if you're being hurt. It's called child abuse and it isn't okay. Thank you."

The end of Annabelle's speech was met with a standing ovation and deafening applause. Annabelle smiled through her tears as Ron and Hermione hugged her because this meant one thing: Harry's story, after years of silence, had finally been heard.

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Fin.

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