Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or the SCP story. I am not making and money or profits of this fan fiction. This is merely a fans imagination gone out of control so please don't sue me.

Harry Potter and the SCP Foundation

Prologue

When Harry James Potter awoke he knew that he was no longer home anymore.

"Where... where am I?"

Rubbing his eyes did nothing to change this fact which proved that this was not some dream induced reality or illusion; even going as far as to pinch himself to shaking his head erratically to further test if he was still asleep. Nothing happened of course and that was when he accepted that he was not home anymore or not in Kansas anymore as Dorothy would say.

Where was he now is the important question on his mind.

The last thing he remembered was the war, more specifically the final confrontation, with his arch-nemesis in the destined battle with the Dark Lord Voldmemort and... or was it the first task of the Tri-Wizard Tournament... no it was the time he spent with his family... his wife... children... the honest answer was that he was not sure. At this moment, confusion and apprehension are on today's menu it would seem for there was something wrong... extremely wrong going on here... with himself he thought.

But that would have to wait for the time being, at least until he gets ahold of himself and grasped the situation that he has found himself locked in.

He began by looking around himself. He knew that he was on a bed of sorts; not very comfortable feeling and surrounded by darkness but still he could tell there were walls and a ceiling all around him. There were no noticeable pattern; just smooth looking as far as he could tell. He could just about make out discernible shapes around on different parts of the surface. The shape of a light bulb here, a door shaped object not half a meter away from his position and a chair facing towards the bed next to him.

From all this he could tell that he was inside what app appeared to be was a room, small but not too small to be called a bedroom or resting area. Smallish would be the word if any could describe it. The smell he was picking up was the same sterile stench you get from a hospital or clinic, too clean he was thinking; and the sounds he was hearing... or not in this case. Apart from his breathing and rustling on the bed there was little sound to be heard accept for some light hum emanating from the walls and floor. How he knew this, he could feel it through the vibrations so he knew that there was something moving around besides him.

Even so, none of this helped him. He was for all intentions isolated, alone with his thoughts and his dreams... the dream... why could he not remember the dream... why could he not remember what he was doing before sleep took him?

'Why can't I remember?' And it was during that moment of thought that Harry covered his eyes suddenly as spots assaulted his vision into a blur of little firecrackers setting off from the sudden flash of light that exploded forth without warning. This was how he came to get a better look of his surroundings.

There was a bed, white sheets and pillow, not stylish or comfortable looking; more something akin to what someone would see at a military barracks or prison. There was a door; metal in appearance and very sturdy if he had to guess with no noticeable handle to open it; which said to Harry that you can't leave. There chair to his surprise but a toilet of all things; an easy mistake for someone to make when they cannot see in the dark and possess the need for eye-wear to help them see better and it was times like this that he wished he had fixed his eyes sooner.

The only other additions that he did not pick up from the dark were the small wall attached table to his right and a sink.

'Home sweet home.' He thought sarcastically as he took in all the necessities it would for what Harry has guessed at this point to be a prison cell. A bland example of such architecture with walls and roof of whitish grey; lifeless and very Spartan when you include all the furnishings... a practical set up.

'I can't sit around forever.'

Getting up of the bed Harry did a quick check of his body. He looked at his hands... his hands; he still could not let go of the feeling that this was some hallucination.

He was not injured nor did he show any signs of assault. Whether this was a good thing was to be seen; for whomever or whatever put him in this... room may not have good intentions; which Harry has first hand scars to prove his experience with such malevolent behaviour to his character.

There were no restraints holding him maybe because there was no need for them, the room was se sealed after all by a knob-less door so using a spell for unlocking the door was out of the question because there were many factors to consider, factors that he could not risk provoking at this time.

His hair was long but neatly trimmed as he likes it and thankfully he still retained his glasses 'small mercies'. Without his eye-wear he would be screwed visually speaking.

His attire was interesting he noticed; that is if you could call them clothes he thought.

Whomever placed him here provided him with an ordinary looking orange jumpsuit and a pair of black shoes to complete his new ensemble. The symbol on his right breast was the only part that stood out from the orange. Composed of three black arrows aimed inwards towards a central point with a circle surrounding it; whatever it meant was beyond him. Oh how he wished he had studied more in the area of runes which may have shed light on the meaning of patterns or signs he may encounter. For all he knew it could mean shoot here and right here he thought jokingly.

The more he checked the more it checked out it seemed; that he was looking more and more like a prisoner. This was when he noticed the contents on the small table and he wondered why he did not notice sooner.

It was an piece of white paper with the same symbol from his jumpsuit flayed upon it.

'SCP...' The letters were an eyesore but drew his attention was what those letters stood for. 'Secure. Contain. Protect...' Harry thought it was an interesting acronym he; as he read the rest of the information printed. 'Orientation...' It continued. What was revealed was something.

It would seem that Harry was more than just a prisoner, infact he was an unwilling volunteer in some top secret research, classified and organized by someone or thing this SCP group where for the next month he would be involved in doing some very dangerous testing... on what though was not mentioned 'Fucking classified'.

There was no mention on what was being tested which did not resonate well with Harry, not one bit. For all he knew he could be the guinea pig to test drugs and that was one big hell-no for Harry.

It mentioned other jargon like him being referred as something called a Class-D personnel with the numerical designation D-9341 which he had to memorize for some reason. If he had to guess, getting friendly with whomever runs this place, at least for the Class D personnel was not a priority so keeping all interactions unless necessary to a minimum was the way to go. This impressed upon Harry that SCP was all about being professional and segregation among groups was promoted, all that matter may be the bottom-line.

It also mentioned what would happen if he did not comply. Words like sentence and death row were written; these are terms associated with criminals and as far as he knew he was no criminal. Again, not resonating with him one bit.

So what was going on? Where the hell was he? Why can he not remember? He was starting to feel the panic rise in him. His hands shaking and for a single instance a little spark appeared between Harry's finger tips.

Suddenly the door opened to his room and Harry is introduced to the first person he has seen since waking up in this place.

"Hey, they've got some work for ya. Do me a favour, and step out of your cell."

Here is the beginning of my story. Hope to read some positive reviews. Note to all reviewers: I don't mind constructive criticism, but I don't like flaming. Remember this before reviewing.