Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I do however own anything that you do not recognize from the book.

Part 3

She curled into a ball on the floor, squinting her eyes in pain. This was too much she thought. Hadn't she suffered enough?

Apparently not.

She'd been starving for months now. Over a couple of days the hunger pains would subside and she could get up and wander about the mansion a bit, watch some TV, and go on a never ending search for food. Occasionally she would find scraps of food that she had missed in her ravage for food the previous time, and inhale them like there was no tomorrow. That would set off her hunger pains and again she would be confined to bed, or the couch, or the floor, or wherever she happened to collapse writhing in pain, wishing for death...or food. She had become so skinny over the last few months that it was a miracle that she still lived. What had gone wrong?

-----

It hurt. I swear it hurt like hell. To starve, and I mean literally starve hurts more than cutting every inch of your skin open. Sleeping for sixteen to seventeen hours straight to regain that lost energy everyday. Only able to stay awake maybe five or six hours a day, seven if you're lucky. I wandered around like a listless spirit, ransacking the house for something edible.

I knew that I was going to die.

At this point in time I hoped that someone – anyone – would come and give me food, even if it was my enemy. I didn't care anymore. It wasn't like my life was going to get any better – or so I thought.

I was curled up on the floor of the giant master bedroom, crying my eyes out, because I could feel the hunger burning in my stomach. I knew it was close to the end, but I still wanted to live on, to prove that I could survive my father's wrath and make it out of this alive. I heard a door slamming, and angry voices filled the hallways.

"She's just a little girl Robert! You can't blame her for what her father is!" a female voice floated towards my room.

"So what Lindsey? It doesn't matter whether she's in it or not! We have to take her into custody for being his accomplice anyways!" Robert fought angrily.

"She's underage! You can't take a child into custody for being an accomplice!" Lindsey screamed, her voice reaching pitches way too high to be human.

"Do you think I care? All we need is a scapegoat! SHE CAN BE THAT SCAPEGOAT!"

"You are sick Robert. Truly sick."

The voices were gone, but now I could hear footsteps crashing and banging towards my room. I knew I had to get up. I had to get out of there. I couldn't get caught. Not now. These people were cops, and by the sound of it, not nice ones. I pulled my aching body off the floor and crawled over to my closet. The closet had many little nooks and crannies that were good for hiding. I just hoped that the cops didn't know about them. I pulled a piece of siding out of the wall in the closet and crawled into the crawlspace that was there. I replaced the siding, quieted my breathing to short, inaudible breaths, and hoped to god that they wouldn't find me.

I heard them scavenging my room, tearing it apart, throwing things, breaking things, smashing the windows, beating the doors, you name it, they were doing it. They made their way to the closet. One of them smashed the door down; I could hear it splinter from my hiding spot.

"She has to be in here!" Robert roared. He started screaming a bunch of mindless babble that I couldn't understand.

"Bobbert! Don't you dare hurt that little girl! If you do I swear that I'll end your life myself!" Lindsey screamed over him.

Robert raved about the closet, throwing things that were hanging on racks or folded in drawers or on shelves behind him in his furor to find me.

"Robby! Stop! Please! You can't do this! It's not right!"

Robert spun around quickly his eyes ablaze with the sacred fires of hell.

"I can do whatever I want bitch," he snarled.

He started to walk towards Lindsey with a furious calm, his eyes alight with hatred and lust.

"You can't stop me."

He came closer.

"You're just a woman."

He threw her against the wall and pinned her there. Lindsey's breathing became hitched and gasping. Robert just held her there, gradually tightening his grip on her throat with each passing second.

BANG!

Blood soaked the left side of his shirt and he fell onto Lindsey, dead. Lindsey stared at me, a six-year-old girl holding a magnum in her right hand. Her mouth was gaping and she looked at me shocked.

"D-Did you do that?" she asked.

"I'm the only one holding a gun," I answered with finality in my childish voice.

"O-Oh... t-thank you for saving me... I think..."

I walked up to her and pushed the dead body out of the way.

"I'm Eliza Hermione Frankland. Who the hell are you?"

"I-I" she took a deep breath to calm herself and started again.

"I'm Lindsey Juarez. I work with the FBI and we were told to find you and bring you back to headquarters. Alive. Without a scratch."

I looked at her with cautious consideration. Then I spoke.

"Do you have any food?"

She looked like she could've fainted from shock. She looked like she had been expecting me to shoot her or something. I guess she didn't know that that was my first real murder and what it was doing to my insides.

"I'm hungry. I haven't eaten anything in a week. I haven't had any real food in months. I'm starving to death. Do you have any food?" I asked again.

Lindsey shut her mouth and shook her head.

"But I can get you some."

I looked at her, my eyes filled with false hope.

She took hold of my hand and together we walked out of the mansion.

-----

"Damn it!" Bella screamed, slamming her fist onto the table.

"Bella! CALM. DOWN. Screaming and cussing won't help anything!" Mary yelled from the other side of the table.

"Come on Bella. Calm down. Please?" Steven cooed in her ear.

The police trio were at the station in the employee lounge. They had just gotten back from another dead end lead.

"I don't want to calm down Steve. I want to find Eliza!"

"And we understand that Bella, but you have to be rational. You can't track down a missing person that's itinerant, being hunted by her own father, and carted around by criminals in just a few measly months." Mary rationalized.

"A few measly months? A FEW MEASLY MONTHS? We have been trying to find her for over a year now! We started the search when she was five, and she's gonna be seven soon! I..." Bella's voice cracked and she broke down in sobs.

Steve rubbed her back, and Mary ran over to hug her young, emotional friend.

"I knew it wasn't a good idea to get her caught up in this Steve. She's too young. She doesn't understand. She's..."

"She's twenty-seven Mary. We're only thirty. We're not that much older than her. Bella's a big girl and she can handle this. She just has to learn to control her emotions somewhat so that she doesn't freak out every time we come back empty-handed."

Mary sighed. "I guess you're right Steve." She gave her friend a reassuring hug and started to walk out of the room.

Beep! Beep! Beep!

Mary grabbed her communicator off of her belt.

"Hello? Sir?"

"We have her, and the government can't get her."

-----

A mobile phone rang.

I looked around startled by the noise. I had never heard of a phone in a car before... but then again my dad only bought ancient POS's from the junkyard. My eyes landed on the wireless car phone hooked up to the dashboard. Lindsey picked up the phone and seemed agitated at the voice emanating from the speaker.

"Hello?" Lindsey hesitated before asking as though the phone was about to bite her.

"Agent Lin can you hear me?" a deep voice growled from the other side of the phone.

"Of course I can hear you Sir. How may I be of assistance to you?" she replied in a memorized drone.

"Do you have the girl?"

"I do Sir. She's starved and I'm going to take her someplace to eat before she starves to death Sir."

"Good. Be at the rendezvous point in 3 hours."

"Yes Sir."

"Oh and Agent Lin?"

"Yes Sir?"

"Don't screw up."

Lindsey hung up the phone and turned to me.

"I suppose that you already know that I work for the FBI correct?" she asked me.

"Of course. I could hear you and that shit-covered ass wipe arguing the minute you opened the front door." I replied smoothly. "Plus. You told me after I shot the ruthless son of a bitch."

Lindsey flinched at my choice of words and turned back to face the road. As we drove on I could somehow sense that she needed to ask me something else, but was holding back, so I spoke up.

"You need to say something. What is it?"

She jumped a little and caused the car to swerve a bit.

"Hehe... You're pretty observant for a first grader, but yes I need to tell you something."

I looked at her expectantly, but she didn't seem to get my message.

"What is it? I need to know."

She stumbled seeming a bit afraid of what she was going to say, as if it was going to blow up her car if she said it.

"I... um... I-um... I... Well... Okay Lindsey... Get a hold of yourself. DEEP BREATHS. DEEEEEEP BREATHS."

She took several deep breaths and finally steadied herself.

"The government is trying to locate you so that they can take you to safety – away from your father's grasp – and use you as bait to reel him in. The FBI on the other hand is trying to capture you and use you as a scapegoat for your father's crimes so that the government will back off of the case and let the FBI take over."

I stared at her obviously shocked at what she had just said. She noticed and quickly tried to make amends.

"But..." she broke off and her eyes widened. She opened a compartment in the armrest and took out a pair of pliers with her right hand, her left keeping the wheel steady. She raised the pliers to her mouth, grabbed her largest molar, and with a loud yelp pulled it out and threw it out the window.

"Sorry... Tracking device and monitor... But anyway, I don't want that to happen to you so we're going into hiding for a while."

I gave her another look. "We still get lots of food right?"

She laughed. "Of course we do!"

I sighed with relief and sat back to enjoy the rest of the ride as Lindsey sped up and we raced off into the distance.

-----

A big neon sign hung over his bed flashing hot pink and neon red: Perfect, prissy, pompous Percy the Prat has pertained to plunder the poor hapless pinheads that portray the epitome of stupid.

Percy stared at this sign wondering how the hell his brothers had a vocabulary this huge at the age of nine. He stood there looking at the sign and didn't notice two fire-headed boys sneak into his room and steal his wand from his open trunk, before leaving with evil grins on their faces and plans to thank their older brother, Bill, for the big words and the magic that helped to construct the neon sign. Once outside of Percy's room, the twins ran up the stairs to their own room and slammed the door shut behind them bursting into a fit of laughter.

"George! Just wait until perfect Percy realizes that his wand is gone! He'll piss 'is pants!" Fred howled.

"Tch tch tch language my dear twin," George said waving his finger back and forth, his grin growing larger every second.

George eventually burst out laughing alongside his brother, ignoring the pain in his stomach and the blurring of his vision. In fact the only thing that even slightly showed off his discomfort was his heart, beating fast at what was shown to him in his peripheral vision.

Out of the corners of his eyes he could see the girl starving to death, see her being beaten by her father and mother, going to school every day pretending to be okay, lying to everyone that asked, see the FBI ransack the whore's mansion, see her kill an FBI agent with a handgun, get captured by her kindergarten teacher…everything was shown to him and him alone, but he didn't know why. Why was he the one that got to see this? What did he do?

You are the one who will save her.

-----

We were in a city. It was huge. I think Lindsey said it was called Memphis or something like that… We had abandoned the car in a place called Pittsburgh, "borrowed" another and hi-tailed it to Memphis. When we got there Lindsey sold the car in a shady car dealership and took the money to buy a used red 1982 Chevy Nova with a six cylinder engine, cloth seats, and manual roll up windows.

We drove for an hour, winding through backstreets and alleyways until we reached a building that had a condemned sign on it that looked pretty dilapidated and derelict. Lindsey got out first and grabbed my hand before walking up to the door of the falling down building.

"Well here it is squirt. Our hiding place for the next few years." She said with a remorseful sigh.

On the ride here Lindsey got into the habit of calling me squirt. I hate that name almost as much as I do Eliza. It's annoying… Not that my middle name isn't annoying either…. But now is not the time to be talking about this stuff.

We walked in the door of the dilapidated building and the second we walked in the place became a castle. It was so…magical… The carpets were a deep, rich red, and the walls were solid cherry panelling. There were landscapes painted by famous artists and portraits of people lining the hallway. Tapestries worked by steady, deft hands, and statues of fine marble were what tied the room into an everlasting super sweet apple.

Lindsey still held my hand and looked warily around the room.

"Kay squirt. This dump is where we're staying for the next few years until the hubbub has settled down a bit."

I turned to her in shock. This place a dump? What was wrong with her? This place was a mansion! A castle! It was superb! It was magnificent! How could she call it a dump?

"This place isn't a dump! Don't you see the lush red carpets? The cherry panelling? The paintings? The tapestries? The statues?" I raved.

She gave me a what-the-fuck-are-you-talking-about look and headed toward a painting of the ocean on a stormy day. She touched the painting and said, "Where do you see paintings? I see nothing but bare, stark walls of a disgusting grey colour."

My jaw dropped like a ton of bricks in the rain to the floor. How could she not see? Was I delirious from hunger? Or was she just blind as a bat?

Lindsey turned to me, her blue-green eyes shimmering with the hope and wonderment of a question.

"A-Are you a witch?" she asked her eyes widening with amazement.

"I-I don't really know… Should I be?" I stuttered.

Lindsey ran up to me and grabbed me up in a bone-crushing hug.

"THAT IS SOOOOOOOO COOL!" she squealed.

Here she was, crushing me for being something that I wasn't even sure that I was! It was an outrage I tell ya. I mean I just met this woman the day before when she ransacked my house trying to capture me for the FBI's personal interests and now she had taken me into hiding and proclaimed that I was a witch! Sigh… Jeez… I need to get my priorities straight.

-----

A/N: Hey peeps. This chapter originally took me two whole months to write. I had major writer's block on it back then. This story will have a total of between 8 and 10 chapters. I have six chapters written. I know this chapter is a bit shorter than the last one, but that's just how it came out. the next two chapters after this one are about the same length. After that I believe that they get longer but I'm not too certain. Oh yes... on another note I am not updating until I have six reviews. I know it seems unfair but that's how it's going to be. Six reviews or I won't update.

Well on that note, R&R!

Ja ne