Warnings: Abusive!Dursleys, noncon!, manipulative!Dumbledore, smart!Harry

Food and Shelter

While Harry was attempting to complete his chores, Ly was thinking. Hard.

Okay, so I'm sitting here on a cot in some sort of shed…looks like a garden shed. Why am I in a garden shed? I can't really move around much, although whatever Harry's been doing had to have helped because I don't fall unconscious every time I turn my head. But how in the world did I get here? How did I get injured? And why is Harry taking care of me? I feel like there's something I'm missing…something really important that I have to remember. But what could it be?

He closed his eyes and searched his memory for any clue as to what had happened. Nothing.

His rumbling stomach interrupted his musings as he turned toward the plate of food Harry had left for him. Hmm…Harry said something about not knowing if he could get out here again today, so maybe I'd better conserve the food he brought me. That sounds like an intelligent idea…He split the food -- some spaghetti with sauce and two slices of garlic bread -- into three equal portions and ate one of them. Well, at least my stomach feels better now, he thought as he placed the remainder of the food on the shelf next to him.

He grimaced suddenly as he felt pain returning to his limbs. Ohhh, that hurts. Really hurts. What do I do now? Wait, Harry said something about a pain reliever…Here it is. Thank goodness. He drank the contents of the vial quickly before falling gratefully into a drug-induced, pain-free sleep.

Harry groaned softly as he regained consciousness. Blinking to clear the fuzziness in his head, he noticed that he wasn't in his room. Where in blazes am I? he wondered, starting to sit up.

*Crack!* "Oh God…" he moaned in both pain and realization when he knocked his head against the inverted stairs above him. Why am I in the cupboard again? They haven't stuffed me in here since I started going to Hogwarts! It's a lot more cramped than it used to be…

He then took the opportunity to assess his injuries, carefully stretching his arms and legs. Well, at least Vernon didn't take too much advantage of my unconsciousness this time, he thought ruefully. Just some bruised ribs and a sprained wrist. He moved his hand to his forehead to massage his throbbing temple, but halted when it brushed his cheek. Well, that and this gash on my face. He traced the mark Vernon's ring had left stretching from his right ear to the corner of his mouth. It could be worse.

His stomach clenched agonizingly, as if to prove him wrong. Merlin, I haven't eaten since…since Dudley got "food" poisoning four days ago. Alcohol poisoning is more like it. But surely ickle Duddikins wouldn't get drunk! No, it has to be nasty Harry's fault. He's the cook, after all! Harry smiled sarcastically at his own imitation of his aunt, before clutching his abdomen as his stomach rebelled again. Food. I need food…

He sat up cautiously, trying not to aggravate his injuries, then listened carefully. There was nothing moving in the house. Okay, so it's probably late. Yeah, there's Vernon snoring…

He inched his way toward the cupboard door and peered out through the crack, searching for the outline of the padlock that they normally kept on the cupboard. But, by some miracle, the he saw that the lock hadn't quite closed, so all he had to do was maneuver it…like so…and then…over a little…just a bit more…Got it!The lock fell to the floor with a clunk. Harry tensed, listening hard, but miraculously, there was no movement upstairs.

Creeping out the door, he headed for the kitchen and opened the refrigerator, where he spotted a container of two-week-old casserole squished against the back wall. Sighing with relief, he took the food as well as a fork and slunk back to the cupboard.

Ly hasn't had any food since lunch, he remembered, just as he was about to start eating. I'll have to find some way to get him some…I can save half of this, but he might not want it, it's going bad. I'll just have to nick some more, I guess. With a resigned sigh, he started eating slowly, savoring the feeling of food -- even partially moldy food -- sliding down his throat.

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The next morning, Harry was awakened by his aunt's usual "Up, boy!" and he grimaced as he gingerly maneuvered his sore limbs out of the cupboard to go make breakfast.

After Vernon left for the morning, Petunia handed him a piece of mildly burned toast. "Here, boy," she sneered. "Since you apparently can't stay conscious without it. And do something about your face! I won't have the neighbors asking questions."

That said, she handed him his daily list of chores and stalked from the room.

Harry wrapped the toast in a napkin before dutifully stepping into the bathroom, where he used a rag to clean up most of the dried blood on his face, leaving nothing but a thin, scabbed line across his cheek. He then headed outside to the garden shed, where he thankfully had some healing cream on hand. He dabbed it quickly onto his face, feeling the skin re-grow under his touch. He wouldn't have bothered, but he did want to avoid awkward questions. Thus reassured that no one would be the wiser, Harry turned to study Ly's still-sleeping form. As if feeling his eyes on him, Ly turned toward him with a soft groan and opened his eyes.

"Hey Harry," came the sleepy greeting.

"Good morning, Ly," Harry replied, smiling gently at the younger boy. "How are you feeling?"

"Much better," the boy replied. "My neck only hurts a little now and it's a lot easier to breathe. I'm just a bit hungry." His stomach growled in agreement of that assessment.

"Well, I brought you a slice of toast for now, but you'll have to wait a bit until I can get you some more food, ok?" Harry handed over the napkin-wrapped toast apologetically. "I'm sorry it's not much, but I'll get you some more later, I promise. And here's some more medicine. With any luck, you'll be better in a couple of days."

That said, he grabbed his gardening tools and strode out the door.

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In the middle of gardening, however, he felt eyes resting upon him and he whirled around, reaching for the wand he never had during the summers thanks to his uncle. His relief was palpable when he found himself looking at a little girl standing on the other side of the white picket fence.

"Lissa," he greeted the girl with a smile, using his nickname for her. He had helped her and her brother Matt avoid "Big D's" gang on several occasions and had given both of them self-defense tips.

"Hi Harry," Lissa responded, a small smile briefly appearing on her face before she frowned.

"What's wrong?" came Harry's concerned inquiry.

"It's Matt…he's hurt. Can you help him?"

"Sure, just give me a second and I'll be right there." Harry stood up and strode to the garden shed. "Hey, Ly, how're you feeling?" he asked as he grabbed a portable first aid kit from the shelf.

"Pretty good. I'm kind of bored, though," the boy confessed.

"Hmm…maybe I can find you some books to read when I get back. How's that sound?"

Ly grinned. "That would be awesome!"

"Alright. I'll be back in a bit."

"Okay," came the reply as Harry left the shed to follow Lissa to the park.