Here's my new HP story! Hope u enjoy! Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. Otherwise, I wouldn't be sitting in World History writing this right now.

It was a quiet evening at Number 12 Grimmauld Place. Mrs. Weasley was sitting in one of the dark chairs furiously knitting a sweater. Ron and Hermoine were focused on a game of wizard's chess while Harry just stared off into space, an activity that worried all of his friends. The twins were spent over a piece of paper and mumbling, trying to conceal what they were doing from their mother. Sirius and Remus, on the other hand, were quietly discussing something that Harry was trying to eavesdrop in on. It seemed like the two were having an argument, but he couldn't hear. Ginny was reading a book, her eyes occasionally glancing over at Harry. Mr. Weasley was still in St. Mungo but was to be released soon. Everything was calm.

Until Kreacher began shouting. Sirius stood up, sighing. He hated the damn creature. "Kreacher, shut up!" he growled. Being stuck in his childhood prison wasn't doing much for his mood.

Kreacher continued to scream. "Intruder! Intruder! Filthy little mud-blood girl!" The adults of the room stood up and clutched their wands tightly. This could be a trap. They waited.

What came surprised them. It really was a little girl of about five years old. She had long brown hair that needed to be cut and amber eyes. Her clothes were clean but ragged, and she was walking funny. Her eyes immediately turned to Harry. "'Arry!" she shouted. "Sissy hurt! You 'ave to help her!"

Harry sprang up, his face showing disbelief. "Emma, what are you doing here?" he asked worriedly. His mind began racing.

The little girl began a hasty explanation. "Daddy came home from the wooden box! Sissy told me to hide in the closet! I hid. Daddy got angry again. When he left again, I came out and Sissy hurt!" Emma had tears streaming down her face. "Sissy hurt! You have to help her!"

Despite the seriousness of the situation, Fred murmured to George, "The wooden box?" Unfortunately, Mrs. Weasley heard this, and she wacked both of them on the head.

Harry nodded. "I'm going to help her, I promise," he reassured the little girl. "Where is she?"

"Brown room," Emma answered softly. Harry knew she meant living room. He nodded and took an item none of them had noticed the little girl had been holding from her hand.

"Stay here," Harry instructed the tiny girl. "These people won't hurt you. You can trust them. Okay?" Emma nodded, still frightened.

"Harry, where are you going?" Hermoine shouted.

"Be back soon!" he shouted. Sirius and Remus ran to stop him, but they weren't fast enough. Harry was gone before they could blink.


Harry landed on his back in Izzy's backyard. He got up and crept inside quietly, trying to avoid making too much unnecessary noise. It would spook Iz and alert her dad if he was still there. Harry doubted this, but you never knew. He entered through the back screen door. The setup of this house was identical to that of the Dursley's so he was able to find her in a matter of seconds.

"Oh shit," Harry murmured to himself. Emma hadn't been exaggerating. Iz really was hurt. There were bruises in various shades of fading all over her blooding and blood coming from her mouth. Her black hair was matted with blood, and her usually pink lips were pale. Please don't have a concussion, he hoped to himself. He lifted her up from the floor, gently carrying her upstairs. He grabbed the things he knew she'd want and threw them into a bag. He also grabbed his own secret stash of stuff he kept there.

Iz started to wake up, noticing she was no longer on the ground. She opened her eyes faintly and immediately recognized the green eyes of her best friend. "Harry," she mumbled.

"Don't worry," Harry stated. "I'm getting you out of here."

"Emma…" Iz started.

"She's safe," Harry answered. "Just stay wake a little bit longer."

"Okay," Iz agreed faintly. He carried her out of the house. "Where are we going?"

"Somewhere safe," Harry replied. He grabbed the Portkey and held Iz tightly. The two friends were suddenly spun back to the Order headquarters, where Harry's friends were waiting anxiously.

Mrs. Weasley and Sirius seemed to be holding a pacing contest. Hermoine was wringing her hands in worry while Ron murmured things to comfort her. Remus had gone to alert the Order, and even the twins looked uncharacteristically serious. Only Ginny took notice of the little girl. The first thing she noticed was that the little girl seemed afraid to look any of them in the eye. She walked over to where the little girl was sitting and sat down next to her. "Hi, my name's Ginny," she said gently. "What's yours?"

"Emma," the little girl answered trembling. The redhead noticed that Emma was clutching something tightly in her hands.

"What's that you have there?" she coaxed. Emma let go of the object. It was a book and a well-worn one at that. She peered at the cover. The title of the book was the Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe. "Huh, I don't think I've read that one before. Is it any good?"

The little girl's amber eyes shined. "It's my favorite," she answered happily. Emma then went on to explain the various twists and turns of the plot line, her personality shining through.

"May I look at it?" Ginny asked politely. The little girl nodded and handed her the book. The redhead fingered it lightly before opening the cover page. She saw something that surprised her: a small little scribble in the left hand corner. She peered more closely and realized what it said. "Property of Harry Potter," she whispered.

Before Ginny could think about this more, however, Harry appeared in the living room holding a girl who looked like she'd been through hell. Emma's eyes turned frightened. "Sissy!" she shouted.

"Don't worry, Em," Harry reassured the little girl who was on the brink of tears. "I'm going to make her better." He turned to Mrs. Weasley. "Can you help me?"

"Of course, dear," she responded quickly, running to get everything she needed to help the poor girl.

Everyone else just watched in shocked silence as Harry carried her over to the couch. "Tired," Izzy mumbled. "Just wanna sleep."

"You can sleep when we know you don't have a concussion," Harry retorted.

"Where are we?" she asked, her head pounding.

"Somewhere safe," Harry replied. Mrs. Weasley returned with everything they needed to heal Iz.

Mrs. Weasley reached out to put some Bruise Balm on the girl's arm, but she instinctively jerked away. This worried her more than anyone could imagine. If this was Harry's friend, what horrors had he seen? She seemed to be the only one with this thought, however. Everyone else just seemed intrigued by this girl who, though bruised and beaten, was still beautiful.

"I'll do that," Harry offered. Mrs. Weasley handed him the container. He gently rubbed it on his friend's arm and cheek.

"Why won't she let anyone touch her?" Hermoine asked, now just regaining her ability to speak.

"Touching is fine," Harry replied. "It's the reaching out that's bad. Getting grabbed means getting beaten."

"And how do you know this?" the bushy-haired girl asked suspiciously. Harry froze up but didn't let it show. His friends could never know what he had suffered at the Dursleys. It would just worry them, and he didn't need any pity.

"Izzy has been my friend since we were five," Harry answered. "You learn these things."

Hermoine nodded. Some of the adults in the room, however, weren't as convinced. Harry's voice seemed just a bit too forced, and there was a dark shadow in his eyes. What had the Dursleys done to Harry?

Izzy, now more aware of her surroundings, scanned around the room curiously with her light blue eyes. Harry hadn't been kidding when he described Number 12 in his letters. It was possibly the dreariest house she had ever stepped foot in. More interesting to her than the house, however, were the people. Harry had described his friends in his letters to the tee. Ron Weasley was tall and gangly, red hair and freckles while Hermione Granger had bushy brown hair and warm brown eyes that gleamed with intelligence. She could practically smell the mischief rolling off the Weasley twins, Fred and George. Mrs. Weasley had a kind maternal air around her, one that painfully reminded her of her own mother. Of course, your mother didn't really care that much, a little voice in her head nagged. She left you and your sister in hell after all. Shaking away that thought, she studied the last Weasley. Izzy couldn't place it, but something about the redhead felt oddly familiar. She didn't know what she thought of Sirius Black. The black-haired girl knew that the man cared about Harry, but she wasn't too keen on trusting men.

After observing everyone else, Izzy cast her critical eye over to her best friend. Harry looks like crap, she thought to herself. And he did. His skin had a shallow, sickly tint to it, and there were dark shadows under his eyes, indicating the need for a good night's sleep. Harry looked so old, so weary, nothing like the boy she'd befriended all those years ago. Sometimes she got afraid that boy was lost forever, but then he would laugh or say something that reminded her he was still their Harry.

Izzy winced as Harry put something on her arm. She pouted. Harry rolled his eyes. "You know it helps when you sit still, right?" he asked sarcastically. She stuck her tongue out at him.

"You're not sleeping," she stated bluntly. Everyone looked up.

"Is that a question?" Harry shot back, trying to focus on what he was doing.

"No," Izzy replied. "I don't ask questions I know the answers to." Harry rolled his eyes. That was such an Izzy response. "Still having the nightmares?"

Harry froze but only noticeably enough for a trained eye to catch it. "Isn't that question breaking your rule?" Izzy shrugged. He finished applying a bandage and turned to his best friend. "What happened?"

Izzy felt like something was caught her throat. "I don't know what you're talking about," she replied stubbornly.

Everyone watched Harry's intense emerald eyes narrow. "Really? So how'd you get those bruises, huh? Fell down the stairs?"

"Harry…" Izzy warned, glancing at her little sister. She wanted to shield Emma from all of this, from their screwed up world.

Harry looked at the little girl before taking a deep breath. "Later," he demanded, his eyes never losing their intensity.

"Later," Izzy agreed.

"Hungry?"

"Starved." And to the confusion of many, the two old friends shared a smirk. The Weasleys, Hermoine, and Sirius were officially curious. Who was this girl?