This starts pretty normally, but goes South - fast. Be warned.
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.
(In)Sane
Laughter. Firewhiskey. Excitement.
"To Harry Potter - THE BOY WHO LIVED! OUR SAVIOR!" Bill Weasley cried, and was met with many an enthusiastic HUZZAH!
For the first time in years, Harry smiled a smile that lit up his whole face, all the way to his Avada-Kedavra green eyes. Chatter filled the kitchen of the Burrow as every single one of the soldiers from the war - the ones that fought for the light, of course - were cramped in the small space, eating and drinking.
"TO HARRY POTTER!"
Harry and his best friends, Ron and Hermione, toasted to the end of the Second Wizarding War. Over. It was all over. Seven years of countless bloodshed, secrets, stress - over.
Harry looped his arm around Ginny Weasley's slim waist. She looked adoringly back up at him, and then turned back to the argument she'd been having with Ron about the best player on the Chudley Channons, her long, fiery red hair swinging behind her. He nipped her ear a bit, savoring the little shiver of anticipation he received. "Love you," he whispered.
She batted him off. "Stop distracting me, Harry. I wanna win this argument."
The chatter was interrupted by Molly Weasley. "Children, off to bed, it's one o'clock in the morning," her voice was stern, but loving.
Harry parted with Ginny and Hermione, and followed Ron up to the room they'd be sharing for the night.
Ron, who, at present moment, was very, very, drunk, collapsed in bed without so much as a "'Night." Harry, rather tired himself, followed in suit.
Harry flopped onto the soft duvet. So much had happened over the past week. Voldemort falling, Snape's love for his mother, dying, coming back from the dead...
He pulled the covers over himself.
They won.
And everything in the universe was as it should be.
Beep.
Beep.
Beep.
"Oi, Ron, shut up," Harry's voice was groggy with sleep.
Beep.
Beep.
Beep.
"RON!"
Beep.
Beep.
Beep.
Now frustrated, Harry opend his eyes, fully prepared to send a mild jinx in his friend's way.
He looked around. White walls, lots of Muggle technology, a strange, white bed that he was lying chained down on.
This isn't the Burrow. Harry had a moment where he almost panicked. Where is he? This doesn't look like anywhere he's ever been. In fact, it looks a whole lot like that one show that Aunt Petunia watched...St. Elsewhere, that's what it was called.
Just as he started to be overtaken by anxiety, the door opens, and Snape walks in, wearing a white doctor's coat. Under any other circumstances, he would have laughed off his head at the so-called "bat of the dungeons" wearing white. However, he just felt crazy. Snape? Harry briefly wondered if he's died.
Snape took one look at Harry before turning on his heels.
"Doctor! The patient's up!"
And Harry was left alone.
He looked down at the ropes binding him to the bed.
"dimissus," he whispered, and expected the ropes to immediately release and allow him to move freely. However, when he looked down, he saw the ropes still tightly bound. What? Why wasn't his magic working? Thoughts ran though his head ninety miles an hour. Have these people turned him into a squib? Can you just not do magic in heaven?
Harry thought that he couldn't be shaken up anymore - not after what happened in the war. But then, he was more petrified than when he faced Voldemort.
Without further ado, Dumbledore walked in, holding a clipboard.
Harry felt the relief wash over him like a wave. Finally, someone who would understand him!
"Headmaster Dumbedore! I...I have so many questions! Why isn't my magic working? I just defeated Voldemort! This doesn't look like King's Cross, so we can't be in the Veil...where are we? Why is Snape here? Where's Ron, Hermione, Neville, Luna, and Ginny?" The words tumbled out of Harry's mouth.
A look of shock crossed Dumbledore's face, and he almost dropped his clipboard before he regained his composure.
"Would you please tell me your name?" His voice was soft and comforting.
"Harry Potter! You know this, Dumbledore! I killed Voldemort! I'm Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived!" Harry shouted, and felt his panic being replaced by anger. If this is Dumbledore's idea of a joke, it's not funny.
"Okay. Harry, calm down," Dumbledore rested his weatherworn hands on Harry's.
"Sir! You need to get back to Hogwarts! We've missed you so much!" Harry shouts. Now he was really confused. What's going on? And why is Dumbledore acting so strange?
"Harry, what is Hogwarts?" His voice was soft, and he was writing some stuff down on a clipboard. Oh, Merlin. Does Dumbledore have memory loss? Harry's heart reached out to the old wizard. He must have forgotten everything, and is trying to put his life back together! Harry, being the compassionate soul he was, was more than happy to oblige.
"Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Headmaster," His voice was even and patient. It wouldn't do to upset the Headmaster, especially when he just lost his memories.
"Harry, there is no such thing as magic," His voice was even, and he rubbed small circles on his hands.
"W...What? Of course there is, Dumbledore!" Harry had started to become wary.
"There is no such thing as magic, Harry," Dumbledore repeated. "Breathe. Come back to us. Breathe."
"Dumbledore! Have you lost your marbles? WHERE'S RON AND HERMIONE?" He shouted.
"Harry, Mr. Weasley and Ms. Granger are other patients in this hospital, like you. I'm sure that they will be pleased to see that you've woken up."
Harry had enough. He forcefully broke the restraints holding him and pushed past Dumbledore. Patient? What's going on?!
He had to find Ron and Hermione, fast.
He opened and closed doors at random, his feet echoing across the smooth, white tile. Finally, he reached a rather big door, and pushed it open. It, at first gleans, appeared to be some sort of formal sitting room. However, the occupants in the room were anything but normal. He spotted Hermione first. She was as thin as a stick, and had some sort of glassy gleam in her eye. She was whispering something to Professor Snape, who was offering comforting words, and gave her a book to read that she kept dropping.
He found Ron next, who was rocking back and forth in a chair, oblivious to the world around him. Professor Lupin was mumbling to him, trying to get the boy to talk.
Neville was running around the room, screaming, while Sirius attempted to catch him.
Luna was sitting in the corner, hands over her ears, speaking to something that only she could see. Ginny, next to her, was lost to the world, her expression dazed.
Where was the magic? What was going on?
Harry turned to Dumbledore, confused and even more panicked than before. Something was wrong. Very, very wrong.
Dumbledore offered a small smile. "Harry, my boy, you have been here for so long and haven't responded to anything - it's nice to see you back with us, son."
What? Where's Hogwarts?
Harry was only more confused, and now angry.
He glared. "Where. Am. I."
"Harry, you don't remember? You're a patient here, in this hospital. You've been here for the last eight years of your life."
Where did that come from? Oh, well - that's thirty minutes of my life gone forever.
Sorry if this idea's been done! I didn't mean to take anyone's idea if it has! I apologize in advance for any grammatical or tense errors.
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