Title: Imaginary
Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling and her associates own these characters. I am writing this story for fun and not profit
Rating: M
Warnings: DH Spoilers, EWE. Sex and swearing
Summary: Harry collapses after the final battle and wakes up in a muggle hospital, with the doctors claiming he has been in a coma since he was 11 years old, when he ran head-first into a wall. He has to come to terms with the fact that the Wizarding World was simply a figment of his imagination...or was it?
Author's Notes: Thank you to everyone who reviewed or read the story :) I'm aiming to update this about once a week – probably on Thursday or Friday.
Chapter Two
Harry's hands twisted in the crisp, white, sheets as his mind whirled with thoughts. 'No I don't believe it. I WON'T believe it! This has to be a mistake, or a joke, or, or...something!' He thought back to that fateful day at the train station, when he had in fact run headfirst into a wall. 'But I went straight through it, and saw the Hogwarts express and met Ron for the first time...' Ron! How could Ron Weasley, his best friend in the world - along with Hermione, of course – not exist? He had to; he couldn't just be a dream induced by Harry's unconscious state. All the things Harry had done over the past 8 years and all the people he'd met were so clear, so vivid, that Harry refused to accept that they weren't real.
He began to recall everything that had happened – fighting Voldemort and standing victorious over his dead body, walking into the Forbidden Forest to face Riddle, the agonising loss of Fred, Remus and Tonks, his mad, fiery flight in the Room of Requirement, rescuing Malfoy. 'Malfoy! I'd probably be glad to see someone I dislike as much as him right now if he could explain what's going on! That is, if he's even real...' Harry's thoughts journeyed further back through time: hunting Horcruxes, watching Snape murder Dumbledore as he watched, petrified, the fight at the Ministry of Magic and the loss of Sirius, Voldemort's rebirth at the end of the Triwizard Tournament. 'Aha! The scar that Wormtail gave me when he was taking my blood! That'll prove that I'm not making this up' Harry thought to himself triumphantly. He looked eagerly at his left arm, but was met with an unmarked expanse of pale skin, and visibly drooped in disappointment, before continuing with his recollections.
His mind was focused on the time he ventured into the Chamber of Secrets in second year, when another person entered the curtains and disrupted his train of thought. This time it was a short, rotund woman, dressed in pale blue scrubs, with her steely grey hair pulled back into a tight knot, which emphasised the stern look on her face, reminding him of the expression found so frequently on Professor McGonagall's face. However, a pleasant smile graced her lined face as she looked upon his bedridden body.
"Ah, Mr. Potter. It's good to see those lovely, green eyes of yours open at last" She winked at him, before bustling to the bedside table and placing a pitcher of water and an empty glass on. She then moved to one of the beeping machines around his bed, and started jotting down some notes on a clipboard that had been previously stashed under her arm. "You've become a favourite with most of the nurses here you know, because you've been here so long we feel like we know you, even if you don't know us. I'm Nurse Paterson by the way, but because it's you, you can call me Jenny." She gave him another cheery smile, and gestured to the water jug, implying that he should have some. Suddenly feeling parched, Harry reached for the jug and poured himself a glass, before quickly downing the cool water.
"So Mr. Potter, if you don't mind we have some tests to get on with." She turned back to him, brandishing a sharp needle, and Harry inwardly groaned before extending his arm to the nurse.
...
Three hours later, Harry was signing release forms in the main administration office of the hospital, under the watchful eye of Nurse Paterson. After several tests, including an excruciatingly embarrassing one that he'd prefer never to think of again, Harry had been ushered into a comfortable office to 'discuss his options', where he was once again faced with Dr. Adams.
"Mr. Potter, take a seat" said the doctor, vaguely gesturing to a padded chair in front of his desk. Harry sat awkwardly in the chair, still wearing his hospital gown. He hoped he could get out of here soon, or at least if he couldn't leave that someone would bring him something other than the open backed gown to wear. "So how are we feeling?" the doctor questioned as he folded his arms across his chest and looked Harry up and down. "All finished with the tests?"
"Yes, but I still think that there's been a mistake. I mean, I can't have been in hospital for seven years, I was at boarding school, you see, in Scotland..." Harry trailed off at the sight of the doctors frown.
"Now Mr. Potter, I know you're confused about what's happening but you have to accept the fact that you were in a coma. It can sometimes be difficult to acknowledge this, and I would seriously recommend a course of therapy..." Harry tuned out as the doctor rambled on about 'possible brain damage' and 'post-traumatic stress disorder'. He knezw that he couldn't have imagined everything about magic and wizards, it was his whole life. Harry didn't consider his time spent with the Dursleys before Hogwarts his real life, merely... preparation for all the hardships he had to encounter in the Wizarding World. However, for now Harry was going to go along with what Dr. Adams was saying to make it easier for himself, even if it was something as small as avoiding the pitying looks the doctor was sending him. He hated pity.
"-ter! Mr. Potter!" The doctor had noticed Harry's inattention and was now glaring sharply at him.
"Sorry doctor, what were you saying?" Harry said whilst smiling sheepishly at the man.
He sighed and then said "Well it's understandable that you're a bit out of things, I mean you have just woken up from a coma. Anyway, I was just talking about your situation once you leave the hospital. Now, I had one of the nurses contact your relatives, the Dursleys I believe. However, the phone we tried to ring has been disconnected – just a simple mistake I'm sure."
Harry scowled and muttered "Sure, a mistake." Dr. Adams looked at him confusedly for a few seconds, before sending him another look filled with pity. 'Damn! Not this again. Note to self – don't mention the Dursleys again'. The doctor composed himself before continuing with his spiel.
"Well, we will continue to try and contact them for you so they can come and pick you up-"
"No! Er...I mean, um, you don't have to do that. I'm sure I can make it home by myself." 'Like I'm going to go back to them. When I get out of here, I'm going to find out what on Earth is going on!'
"I'm sure your relatives would be overjoyed to hear that you're awake Mr. Potter. But if you're certain you don't want them to collect you then I can get you your release forms right away, as there seems to be nothing out of the ordinary going on, and you are officially an adult. If you'll follow me." The doctor stood and moved towards the door. 'Yeah, overjoyed' Harry scoffed, before standing and following the man.
One Harry had completed the extensive forms, he bid goodbye to Dr. Adams, who had another patient to attend to. He then enquired about clothing – he couldn't leave the hospital in just a flimsy gown, he had his dignity.
"Clothes, love? I'll have a dig around in the lost and found for something. Can't promise it'll be the nicest stuff but it'll do, eh?" said the kindly woman behind the desk, who smiled at him briefly before moving into a small room at the back of the office. Behind Harry, Nurse Paterson cleared her throat and he jumped and turned to face her, having completely forgotten she was in the room.
"Mr. Potter, me and some of the other nurses – well, some of us were here the day you were brought in. And those relatives of yours-"She shuddered and grimaced before continuing "I still remember what that awful man said on the telephone when we called to inform them of your accident. 'If that freak ever wakes up, tell him not to bother coming back'. Horrible man, your uncle. Anyway, a few of us on the long-term ward have clubbed together, and well, this is for you." She handed him a plain, white envelope, and when he opened it, he saw that it held several crisp bank notes. "It's just a little something to get you on your way, and I've popped my phone number and address in there as well, just in case you need a place to stay."
Harry surprised the nurse by stepping forward and hugging her tightly. He couldn't help it – the nurse reminded him so clearly of Mrs. Weasley that it almost hurt to look at her mothering expression.
"Thanks Nurse Paterson, for everything" he mumbled into her shoulder. She chuckled softly and then released him.
"I thought I told you to call me Jenny." With a last fond look, the nurse departed the room and left Harry craving his friends and family from the Wizarding World more than ever. The receptionist returned shortly after, clutching a small pile of clothes, which she handed over to Harry. He left the office and headed towards a bathroom, where he changed into baggy tracksuit bottoms, a slightly musty t-shirt, a faded red hoodie and a pair of battered trainers.
Harry headed towards the exit, and returned a cheery wave to a group of smiling nurses. 'I'm going to find out what' s going on, even if I have to defeat another Dark Lord to do it'.