Lost And Found

~ A Cell ~

Harry lay on a small cot bed and stared up at the cracked, dirty ceiling above him. He was attempting to calculate exactly how long he'd been locked in the tiny eight foot by five foot cell.

It was...school had just started, so it was September when I was taken. Harry smiled triumphantly for a moment before he frowned. But what month is it now? How much time has passed? How long have I been apart from my family?

Harry sighed. He rolled over on the bed and curled up on his side.

I miss Draco, he thought plaintively. His smile, his laugh, his touch. Does he miss me? Does he long to hold me as much as I long to hold him? God, I need to pull him into my arms and tell him how much I love him.

Harry sniffled. I miss Daniel. How old is my little boy now? Have I missed his first birthday? His first word? I remember rocking him to sleep one night, holding his little body close to mine. My gorgeous son.

It was amazing, the depth of feeling he got from that memory. But then at the time it happened, he wasn't feeling much of anything. His captor had been administering a potion to him for months before he'd actually been taken. It was a potion that sapped the drinker of their emotions, making them effectively like a zombie.

Damn that bitch. Her precious potion made sure I felt nothing. Thank god she realised that it was stopping me from loving her. It's worn off now. I can feel things again. Like my love for my husband and son.

Harry decided to indulge in one of his favourite ways to pass the time. It was the only way he could survive this prison and stay sane. And that was, daydreaming about how his life would have been had he not been caught up in some sort of evil plot.

~ Hogwarts, the Great Hall~

The scene--Daniel's first birthday. The students had had their dinner and retired back to their common rooms. The teachers (and Daniel and Isabella) remained. Harry was holding Daniel while Draco took plenty of pictures...

"Dobby is bringing baby Daniel Potter's cake, Harry Potter," a proud Dobby said, carrying a huge cake, decorated to look like a golden snitch.

"Oooh," cooed Daniel, clapping his tiny hands together. Harry smiled, cupping Daniel's head gently with his hand and pressed a kiss to his son's head.

"Happy birthday, sweetheart," Harry whispered in Daniel's ear as the adults around them started singing 'happy birthday' to Daniel.

Harry caught Draco's eye and they shared a special look. I love you, Harry mouthed. Draco grinned back.

Harry pushed his face into the bed, tears wetting the thin mattress. It always hurt so much to imagine things like that, knowing that he'd probably missed the actual event. He might not know exactly how much time had passed, or what day it was, but he knew he'd been there for a bloody long time. It felt like forever.

How on earth was he going to get himself out of this one? It's obvious by now that no one was going to rescue him. I'll have to rescue myself, Harry decided. My son needs both his fathers.

The trouble was he didn't have a wand. That bitch took great pleasure in snapping it in front of his very eyes.

But she was a Gryffindor, not a Slytherin. She was prone to impulsiveness and she'd slip up one of these days. He just had to be patient.

Harry rolled onto his back, thinking hard.

What am I going to-

"Good morning, Harry."

Goddamn bitch can't leave me alone for one fucking day?

"Aw, come on, Harry. Don't be like that."

Harry kept his eyes closed and ignored her.

"Harry." A warning tone.

"What?" Harry exploded as his eyes snapped open and he sat bolt upright, glaring at the redheaded woman. "What do you want today?"

"The same thing I want every day. For you to love me," Eve said, staring at him in what she obviously thought was a seductive manner. It probably was, Harry mused, but it wouldn't work on a gay man.

"And as I've told you every day, it's not going to happen!" Harry said angrily. "I love Draco."

Eve scowled. "I know."

Suddenly she brightened. "But I found a way around that annoying little fact. I'm having a potion brewed especially for you, darling. A love potion!"

Harry stared at her in horror. A love potion. Fuck, how was he supposed to fight chemical induced love?

"I'm going to leave you to contemplate that, darling. But you know, if you could find it in your heart to love me, I won't need to use the potion," Eve said pointedly, turning to unlock the door. She always locked herself in the cell with him. It made it harder to slip past her and get away.

Harry glared at her. Love her? Never.

"Wait!" Harry cried before she could leave. "What day is it? How long have I been here?"

Eve turned slowly to face him, a smug smile on her face. "You want something from me? How interesting."

"Please, Eve. Tell me, how old is my son? How many of his birthdays have I missed?" Harry hated himself for begging her, but he needed to know. He felt like he wouldn't be able to breathe without this knowledge.

"I'll tell you, if you'll do something for me," Eve said calculatingly.

"What?" Harry asked guardedly, his eyes narrowing.

"Kiss me," she said simply.

"What? No!" Harry said, feeling disgusted.

"Fine," Eve turned to jiggle the lock again.

"Wait," Harry said again. He looked resigned. "Alright. Let's get it over with."

Eve sauntered over to him, a predatory look on her face that made him itch to slap it off her. He stood up and faced her. She pressed her lips against his and eagerly brushed her tongue against his fiercely closed lips. She tried to force her tongue in his mouth but Harry wouldn't relax his mouth. Eventually she pulled away, defeated.

"Bastard," she muttered and turned back to the door.

"You said you'd give me some information if you could kiss me," Harry said, "You kissed me, so tell me. How old is my son now?"

Eve stood still for a long moment before turning around. "He's two years old."

Harry stared at her disbelievingly. He blinked rapidly, tears blurring his vision. His little boy, his baby, was two years old? How is that even possible? Could I really have been here that long?

"You're lying," he said huskily, hoping desperately that she was.

"Believe what you will," she said softly. "I only told you because I knew that the truth would hurt you. Every little bit helps when it comes to breaking your spirit."

Then she turned and left the cell, slamming the door behind her.

Two years. Daniel is two years old. That's two birthday parties I've missed. How many words does he know now? Does he remember me? Does he call Draco Daddy? He'll be walking by now. Not a baby anymore. He's a little boy now.

He won't even know who I am, if I ever escape from here, Harry thought despairingly. He sat down heavily on the bed and leant forward, holding his head in his hands.

I'm never going to get out of here.