(A/N: Prepare for the sadness!)
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PAST: PRIVET DRIVE
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Harry stared down at the figure covered with a stark white sheet. He couldn't move; his entire body just refused to do anything. The three paramedics exchanged confused glances. Finally, the female out of the three stepped around the stretcher and took Harry by the shoulders, turning him away.
"Do you live around here?" she asked gently, lifting his chin to look at him.
"Y-yes..." Harry stammered in reply.
The woman glanced back at the stretcher, then to Harry again. "Do you know the people who live here?"
"I-I know Madison. I-is she okay?" Harry grasped the woman's upper arms desperately.
She looked up past Harry to the approaching policeman. The policeman grabbed Harry roughly and spun him around, then stopped when he saw the redness in Harry's eyes. The poor boy was on the verge of tears.
"Kid, what're you doing?" the man asked, kneeling down.
"I was...I just..." Harry looked down, wringing the hem of his shirt now.
"You're not supposed to be over here. Come on, now."
"But..." Harry turned around and looked at the sheeted figure, shivering. "She...I...I can't leave her alone..."
"Kid," started the policeman, carefully taking Harry by the forearm. "Listen, we'll have someone call you. You can't be over here!"
"SHE'S MY BEST FRIEND!" cried Harry suddenly. He jerked his arm away from the man and as the man's grip gave way, Harry's arm swung back and shifted the sheet on the body behind him. With a gasp, Harry turned around.
A long lock of dark, dark brown, almost black hair was revealed. The color stood out easily on the cold white background of the sheet. Harry's eyes widened, his heart raced.
"No...no...that...she...Madison!" His legs gave way and Harry fell to his knees. The paramedics took this as a good time to wheel the stretcher away.
"Kid...kid, you really can't be over here..." said the policeman gently. He helped Harry to his feet and led the sobbing boy over to the caution tape.
Suddenly there came a furious scream from behind the two. Harry turned to see John being led out of the house by two officers, one holding each of his arms. The jangling silver on his wrists told Harry that he was wearing handcuffs.
'John...' thought Harry, his eyes narrowing. He remembered what had happened the night before. It was John. John had killed Madison. John had taken away Harry's only friend. The sadness inside of young Harry quickly transmogrified into all-out rage. He stared at the man with utmost hate, wishing to whatever high power there is that John would just drop dead on the spot.
"OW!" John suddenly cried. "Jeez, what're you doing?! These cuffs'r too tight!"
"They were fine when I put em' on," replied the officer holding is right arm.
"No...they're getting tighter...aw, damn! AUGH!" John cried out in pain and the officer with his left arm suddenly gasped. There was blood running down his arm.
"What the hell?!" cried the officer.
"What's going on?!" the other gasped.
Suddenly there was a huge 'CRACK!' that shattered the air. John's scream of agony rang out a moment later. His wrists had been crushed by the rapidly tightening metal cuffs.
From there on, Harry couldn't remember anything other than being led away. He woke up in his room a few hours later.
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PRESENT: HOGWARTS
------
"And from there can't remember anything, except that I woke up in my room a few hours later," finished Harry with a tremorous sigh.
Hermione sniffed and hastily wiped her eyes with her sleeve. Ron put a hand on Harry's shoulder, at a loss for words himself.
"Maybe we should...uhm...leave you alone for a while..." Ron said quietly.
"No," said Harry firmly. The other two Gryffindors looked up at him curiously. "That's not the end of the story." Harry finished.
"Oh?" asked Hermione.
Harry shook his head and said, "There's more..."
------
PAST: PRIVET DRIVE
------
It had been a week since Madison's death. According to the police report, her step-father, John, had smashed the dining table and beat his wife to death with one of the legs. Then, he went outside and gave Madison one good blow on the head, killing her instantly.
The police had come by to talk to Harry. They asked him how he knew Madison, and he told them. They asked him what happened to his face, and he told them. Whatever they asked him, he gave a full-honest response, but the entire time he would stare at the wall and speak as if talking to himself. He showed no emotion at all. It was as if from the moment he collapsed in front of the policeman a week before until then, his emotions had just ceased to work.
The Dursley's avoided him more than they had before. They treated him like a grenade with the pin already pulled out, as if he would explode at any moment. They actually hadn't even spoken to him since that day, a week before.
Harry didn't mind. He had someone to talk to. Every once in a while, he'd take the silver charm bracelet out of his pocket and have a one-sided conversation with it.
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(A/N: In case you're wondering, yes. Harry has lost his poor widdle mind.)
-------
PAST: PRIVET DRIVE
-------
Harry stared down at the figure covered with a stark white sheet. He couldn't move; his entire body just refused to do anything. The three paramedics exchanged confused glances. Finally, the female out of the three stepped around the stretcher and took Harry by the shoulders, turning him away.
"Do you live around here?" she asked gently, lifting his chin to look at him.
"Y-yes..." Harry stammered in reply.
The woman glanced back at the stretcher, then to Harry again. "Do you know the people who live here?"
"I-I know Madison. I-is she okay?" Harry grasped the woman's upper arms desperately.
She looked up past Harry to the approaching policeman. The policeman grabbed Harry roughly and spun him around, then stopped when he saw the redness in Harry's eyes. The poor boy was on the verge of tears.
"Kid, what're you doing?" the man asked, kneeling down.
"I was...I just..." Harry looked down, wringing the hem of his shirt now.
"You're not supposed to be over here. Come on, now."
"But..." Harry turned around and looked at the sheeted figure, shivering. "She...I...I can't leave her alone..."
"Kid," started the policeman, carefully taking Harry by the forearm. "Listen, we'll have someone call you. You can't be over here!"
"SHE'S MY BEST FRIEND!" cried Harry suddenly. He jerked his arm away from the man and as the man's grip gave way, Harry's arm swung back and shifted the sheet on the body behind him. With a gasp, Harry turned around.
A long lock of dark, dark brown, almost black hair was revealed. The color stood out easily on the cold white background of the sheet. Harry's eyes widened, his heart raced.
"No...no...that...she...Madison!" His legs gave way and Harry fell to his knees. The paramedics took this as a good time to wheel the stretcher away.
"Kid...kid, you really can't be over here..." said the policeman gently. He helped Harry to his feet and led the sobbing boy over to the caution tape.
Suddenly there came a furious scream from behind the two. Harry turned to see John being led out of the house by two officers, one holding each of his arms. The jangling silver on his wrists told Harry that he was wearing handcuffs.
'John...' thought Harry, his eyes narrowing. He remembered what had happened the night before. It was John. John had killed Madison. John had taken away Harry's only friend. The sadness inside of young Harry quickly transmogrified into all-out rage. He stared at the man with utmost hate, wishing to whatever high power there is that John would just drop dead on the spot.
"OW!" John suddenly cried. "Jeez, what're you doing?! These cuffs'r too tight!"
"They were fine when I put em' on," replied the officer holding is right arm.
"No...they're getting tighter...aw, damn! AUGH!" John cried out in pain and the officer with his left arm suddenly gasped. There was blood running down his arm.
"What the hell?!" cried the officer.
"What's going on?!" the other gasped.
Suddenly there was a huge 'CRACK!' that shattered the air. John's scream of agony rang out a moment later. His wrists had been crushed by the rapidly tightening metal cuffs.
From there on, Harry couldn't remember anything other than being led away. He woke up in his room a few hours later.
------
PRESENT: HOGWARTS
------
"And from there can't remember anything, except that I woke up in my room a few hours later," finished Harry with a tremorous sigh.
Hermione sniffed and hastily wiped her eyes with her sleeve. Ron put a hand on Harry's shoulder, at a loss for words himself.
"Maybe we should...uhm...leave you alone for a while..." Ron said quietly.
"No," said Harry firmly. The other two Gryffindors looked up at him curiously. "That's not the end of the story." Harry finished.
"Oh?" asked Hermione.
Harry shook his head and said, "There's more..."
------
PAST: PRIVET DRIVE
------
It had been a week since Madison's death. According to the police report, her step-father, John, had smashed the dining table and beat his wife to death with one of the legs. Then, he went outside and gave Madison one good blow on the head, killing her instantly.
The police had come by to talk to Harry. They asked him how he knew Madison, and he told them. They asked him what happened to his face, and he told them. Whatever they asked him, he gave a full-honest response, but the entire time he would stare at the wall and speak as if talking to himself. He showed no emotion at all. It was as if from the moment he collapsed in front of the policeman a week before until then, his emotions had just ceased to work.
The Dursley's avoided him more than they had before. They treated him like a grenade with the pin already pulled out, as if he would explode at any moment. They actually hadn't even spoken to him since that day, a week before.
Harry didn't mind. He had someone to talk to. Every once in a while, he'd take the silver charm bracelet out of his pocket and have a one-sided conversation with it.
-----
(A/N: In case you're wondering, yes. Harry has lost his poor widdle mind.)
