Delusional
Chapter 1
"This is for my parents," Harry growled, his wand pointed at Voldemort's head.
Voldemort's glowing, red eyes expressed no emotions as he stared back at what would be his killer. He lay there helplessly waiting for the inevitable.
Harry was concentrating all his energy and magic through him on this single person (if you could call Voldemort that) that he intended to kill. The killing curse was on the tip of his tongue when all of a sudden he felt something heavy hit his head and his vision blurred as he fell to the ground.
Slowly the fuzzy shapes around him came in to focus and he saw Wormtail standing over him and then the tables had turned as Voldemort's wand was now pointed at his head.
Voldemort didn't waste his breath on useless words and simply spoke, "Avada Kedavra."
Harry felt a pain that was so intense he couldn't even scream, it was too excruciating. He felt his grip on reality slip as he fell into blackness.
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"Argh," Harry moaned as he turned over in his bed to face away from the bright gleaming sun that was shining through the window. He would just sleep a few more minutes, then he would go down to The Great Hall to join everyone for some breakfast before his first class. He cracked open his eyes to see if Ron had awakened yet.
`What the hell?' Harry thought to himself as he fully opened his eyes and sat upright. He looked around him and took in his unfamiliar surroundings. He was in a room that was a bland, pale tan color and very box like. He was lying on a bed set against one of the walls and mirrored on the other side was another bed, empty. There was a small night stand by the table with a plastic glass of water and notebook and pencil.
The other side of the room was covered in drawings, mostly pencil sketches, but a couple were watercolor. Many of the subjects were people standing in the middle and then objects surrounding them. They were very good and very intricate.
Harry found himself fascinated by the pictures for a few minutes before he was brought back to more pressing issues of him being in a strange place, wearing unfamiliar pajamas, his body aching all over, and not knowing what the hell was going on.
"Ok, so what was the last thing I remember?" Harry spoke out loud, trying to figure out what was going on. "Well, I was dueling Voldemort, and I was about to say the killing curse, but somebody had attacked me and then Voldemort was standing over me. And then he was about to kill me…" Harry trailed off as he brought his hand to his forehead where his scar was burning. This was a different kind of hurt. It felt raw and sore. Usually the pain was inside. This time the skin itself surrounding the scar ached.
Harry was brought out of his thoughts as a tiny boy, maybe 14 years old, walked into the room. "Ah, you're finally up? You've been sleeping for days. I've had to be extra quiet. They warned me not to disturb you. Do you want to get some breakfast? They are going to stop serving in less than a half an hour," the boy spoke quickly, obviously exited. He was a very small person, yet his voice was loud and deep. He had sandy blond hair that was to his shoulders, unkempt and unruly in a way that reminded Harry of Sirius.
Harry's mind was moving a mile a minute as he tried taking this all in, not only what the boy was saying, but what he wanted to ask the boy first. Although answering the food question seemed like a good idea to his rumbling stomach, he opted for something different. "Where am I?"
"You are in the Rehabilitation Center For Troubled and Unsound Youth, which is just a fancy way of saying this is the place where they put the crazies," the boy spoke nonchalantly, as if this was nothing.
"And why am I here?" Harry questioned.
"I can't tell you. All they told me is that your name is Harry Potter," the boy shrugged. "So is that a no to the food question?"
Harry was thinking this over for a few moments. There was no reason he couldn't question the boy further over a meal and he was really hungry. Not to mention he knew he wasn't going crazy. His name was still Harry Potter after all.
"Sure, I'll grab some food," Harry replied.
The boy seemed excited and led Harry out of the room walking quickly down hallways that wound in and out of each other. The boy was always a step ahead of Harry, but he would turn around to make sure that Harry was still behind him. Harry was getting dizzy from all of the sterile, non-descript colors that coated the walls. After each turn, the next hallways looked the same as the one they were down. Harry could tell he was going to get lost here.
Finally, the boy turned one last time and they were in the cafeteria. The boy led Harry to a small line and they walked through it. Harry has never seen food that looked like this before, not even in his public school days. All of it looked the same, mushy and clumpy. Harry didn't even know what to request since he couldn't name anything he was seeing. So, he decided to just point silently and took the plate that the cook gave him. He then turned to get out of the line, but nobody was moving. They were still in line, waiting to be checked off by a lady standing at the end of the line.
The boy went through first and told the woman his name , "Smith, Peter."
The woman followed her pen down the list and found his name and checked it off. Peter stepped out of line and it was Harry's turn to tell the lady his name, "Potter, Harry." Harry stood there nervously, not knowing what to expect.
The woman scanned the page and shook her head. "You're not on the list, hon. You don't have an eating disorder do you?"
"Umm, no," Harry mumbled, never having that question directed to him before.
"Then you don't have to check out with me every time you eat," The lady told him kindly, and then turned her attention to the next person in line.
Harry walked off, confused, towards Peter who was now sitting down at one of the many empty tables. Harry placed his tray down on the table and sat down next to Peter.
Harry sat down at the table not knowing what to say. Luckily Peter was the one that took the initiative and started the conversation.
"So you're not an ED?"
"ED?" Harry questioned as he pushed around his food skeptically, unsure if it really could be called that.
"Eating disorder, do you have one?" Peter asked as if he was questioning whether the sky was blue.
"Um, no. I don't," Harry told Peter.
Peter looked at Harry expectantly, waiting for more. "Then why are you here?"
"I honestly don't know. I can't really say."
"Do you remember a life before the rehab? What was that like?"
Harry didn't know how he was supposed to answer this. He really wanted to tell the truth, about how he was from the wizarding world and that the last thing he remembered was almost being killed by Voldemort, easily the most evil person in the history of the world. But if he did then they truly would have a reason for him to be here.
His options were few, and none really had a good outcome, so he decided to lie. "I don't exactly remember. There are just a lot of blurry events with faces that I can't really make out. I can't really explain it," Harry said, making sure to make his face look like he was thinking hard.
Peter shook his head. "That's tough luck, I bet the psychs will figure you out soon enough."
"The psychs?" Harry questioned, there was still so much that he didn't know about this place he was in.
"The psychiatrists that we have to talk with a couple days a week. The rest of the days are spent in group therapy and group activities," Peter explained.
Harry's head was hurting, thinking of all of this information being presented to him. He didn't even know what to ask next. He opted to learn more about his roommate. He didn`t know exactly how to bring it up, but decided the best route, to be blunt. "So, why are you here?"
Peter looked up, a look of shock on his face at the question.
Harry instantly felt bad. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said it like that."
Peter shook his head and held up his hands, signaling for Harry to stop talking. "Please, don't be sorry. It is refreshing having someone just come out and ask questions, rather than beating around the bush. Everybody here is extra careful to be mindful of peoples feelings. I understand why, but it can be kind of annoying."
Harry laughed, not knowing how to respond to Peter, he was still trying to figure him out. He was honest, obviously, but there was more to him, and he couldn't put the finger on what it was exactly.
Peter continued, answering Harry's question, "I'm an ED which means I have an eating disorder. My preference is Anorexia. I could have been bulimic, but I honestly can't stand throwing up or hearing it, so well, obviously I chose the other."
Harry wondered if Peter was joking. He had never heard of something so serious, being talked about so lightly. Not to mention he was shocked. Of course he had heard of eating disorders amongst teenage girls, but never among young males. It simply never occurred to him that boys could have anorexia.
It seemed that Peter was reading his mind. "I know, surprising. I'm not your typical ED case. A 19 year old male from a middle class family. I can hardly believe it myself." Peter shook his head as he put another bite of food in his mouth.
"19?" Harry couldn't comprehend that this boy who was tinier than him be older than him. "You're 19?"
Peter nodded sadly. "Yes, I am. I have had anorexia for a long time, as long as I could remember, and it stunted my growth. The doctors said if I continue eating I might be able to grow a little more before I reach full adulthood, but the chances are slim."
"Wow," Harry sighed, still trying to take everything in. Slowly the world started to come into focus, and he was really thinking about where he was. There was so much to say, and ask. Then it came to him like a ton of bricks.
If the last thing he remembered was Voldemort about to kill him, then Harry obviously had not killed Voldemort, and thus he was still out there, biding his time, killing people as he moved through the country. Panic gripped Harry's heart as he thought of all the innocent lives that could be dying while he was locked up in this insane asylum. Well, not locked up necessarily. What would happen if he tried to escape?
This thought went rushing through his head, and was bouncing around back and forth, refusing to leave. He had to get out of here and finish what had been started. If only he had his wand, it would be so simple to get out of here, but he had already checked all of his pockets and it was nowhere to be found. Harry decided he would try to escape the normal way, running.
"Peter, can we go outside at all?" Harry questioned.
"Yeah, there is a nice garden outside which is really nice to take afternoon walks in. I will show it to you if you would like." Peter stood up, picked up his tray, and went and showed the woman the empty plate and then walked over to a conveyer belt in the wall. Harry followed and watched as Peter placed his tray on the belt and it was transported through the wall into the kitchen from the sound that was coming out. Harry sat down his tray was well and they moved out of the cafeteria and back through the halls again.
Harry was just as confused this time around by the halls. They all looked the same, blank and empty, and there was no way he could distinguish them. Finally, they came to a door that opened to the outside.
Harry breathed in the fresh, crisp air and let it fill his lungs completely. He looked around him and took the autumn scene in. The trees were all a bright orange, and it was surprisingly not raining. There were gigantic pure white clouds that filled the sky. All around him were trees and bushes that spotted the landscape. In the distances were the faint signs of a village.
Harry tested the distance and the amount of trees and bushes that would provide cover for him to hide. It would be difficult, but he could do it. He was The Boy Who Lived after all. What couldn't he do.
"It's lovely isn't it?" Peter sighed, referring to the sun that was gaining height in the sky.
"Yeah, it is," Harry said, not really referring to the beautiful sky, but rather the sight of the village. Not giving himself the chance to chicken out, Harry started running. He ran as if the devil was after him. His legs were stiff, but there was no stopping himself now. His body was burning and telling him that that it couldn't continue, but his will kept him going. The thought of reaching that village kept him running.
Harry hadn't been running more than a minute or two, when he felt a stab in upper back. Feet tripping over themselves, Harry fell to the ground, not knowing what had hit him. Harry reached around to his back and felt the vague shape of what was probably a tranquilizer. As he felt it, Harry felt his arm feel heavier and heavier and his eyes began to droop. Slowly, his world went to black.
A/N-Another beginning. I originally started this story for nanowrimo, but decided to take it easy and really develop the story a little. This will large, and there is going to be a lot of aspects to this story that I'm excited about. I don't really want to give much away, but I will be updating again in the near future as I already have most of the next chapter done. Please tell me if you like it or not, as this is new territory for me and kind of different in general. Hermione for sure will be showing up in the near future, and maybe some other people. We will just have to see.
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