Disclaimer: I don't own them. No really, I don't. Do I look filthy rich to you?

A/N: Sorry! I know it's not a chapter of Power Within, but I am suffering serious writer's block with that story, and this one just occurred to me. Hope it's not too confusing format-wise; if people seem to like it I have an idea of a possible sequel. But to let me know if I should, please review this!


'And now we come to the final patient on this ward. I must ask you, before we enter, to sign this confidentiality agreement protecting the identities of our patients. Yes, you too, Mr. Coleman. I'm sorry, but there is no compromise. The paper is, you will find, hexed, to prevent you, shall we say, succumbing to temptation once you discover the identity of our last patient. Thankyou.

'Now, as potential candidates for the Healing Academy here at St. Mungo's, you will on occasion be required to deal with high-profile patients, as is the case with our last patient. As you will no doubt be aware, the closed ward here is generally used for more…damaged patients, shall we say. Bearing this in mind, I must ask you please to remain quiet as we proceed.

'Come along, Miss Hart, there really is no need to look quite so terrified, you will be behind 10 centimetres of spell-proof glass. Not, of course, that the patient possesses a wand, but this particular patient has…certain affinities, shall we say.

'Step forward, please!'


I only really hear them at night.

That is to say, they only used to come at night. Recently, they've been getting braver. They talk to me now when it's only evening. Prolong my torture.

There they start again. I press my hands over my ears, but it's no good. They whisper, louder and louder, and I can't block them out, I can't.

I would have died for you. Why didn't you die for me?

There's nothing left for you here; please, just leave us alone.

Step aside, you silly girl, step aside…

He's gone…

They're all gone. And it's only me left, so they tell me. They talk to me, don't give me a minute's peace.

Why don't they come? Where is everyone?


'No, Miss Smith, your eyes are not deceiving you. That is indeed Harry Potter, commonly believed to have died in the final battle with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. However, as you can see, he did not die. Instead, he is insane.

'It is, perhaps, hard to say which would have been the easier fate.

'Now, notice the classic symptoms that the patient displays. Hands clasped over ears, hunched posture, chronic head-shaking. Mr. Potter suffers from an acute mental disorder, produced by the effects of the death of You-Know-Who. It would appear that there was a mental connection between the two at the moment that Mr. Potter cast the final curse; a connection which Mr. Potter was unaware of. The force of the withdrawal caused by You-Know-Who's death caused certain areas of Mr. Potter's brain to atrophy.

'This atrophication resulted in a coma which lasted for several weeks, and which is the main source of the rumours of Mr. Potter's death. It was only through the sterling work of a young Healer that the patient was established as, in fact, alive; alive, but terribly affected.

'It was agreed that for Mr. Potter's well-being the staff of St. Mungo's would allow the rumour of Mr. Potter's death to spread unchecked. To this day, his closest friends believe him to have died that day – no doubt many of you will have seen the grave that was established in his name in Hogsmeade cemetery; I believe there is also a fine monument in Hogwarts.'


Why don't they come for me?

Hermione, Ron, Remus…where are you all? Have you forgotten me so soon?

I'm alone. And oh God, I'm scared. They're talking to me again.

Please…please…just shut up.

SHUT UP!


'Ah. Right, everyone, just step back slightly from the glass. Good. Now then, this is a perfect example of the effect of a mental disorder on a particularly powerful wizard. Observe the currents produced around the hands, visible even with the naked eye; the magical energy is, as you perceive, unabsorbed – the atrophied brain cannot cope with its own power.

'As you can see, when the subject becomes particularly upset, this excess energy boils over, as we might say, resulting in the violent reactions that we witnessed just then. Please do not be alarmed, all objects on the ward are indestructible, though we have once or twice been impressed by the strength of Mr. Potter's magical overflow.

'He is, it must be said, a fascinating subject.'


I can't even die. I just linger, abandoned, on this edge between nothing and…what used to be reality. What happened to life? That's what I'd like to know. Oblivion would be welcome, compared to this.

I don't actually know if I'm really alive.

And memory; I'm sure I had more of it. But now…now there's just – space. Blank areas where my friends used to be. I had friends, I'm sure of it. But as for their faces…I can't see them. Only their names.

Ron. Hermione. Remus. Dumbledore…?

I don't know. I don't remember.

I think I'm going mad.


'I think that concludes our tour, ladies and gentlemen. Unfortunately, there is little or no hope for any of the inmates on the closed ward; for the patients towards the end of the tour, certainly none remains. I would remind you that the strictest rules of secrecy apply at all times; patient confidentiality is of the utmost importance, to the extent that, as I have mentioned, only the staff here are aware of the existence of our most high-profile patient. Should you decide to continue upon the road you have chosen when applying to become Healers, you may well end up caring for these people. If not, you will be Obliviated before you leave today.

'Are there any questions?'


Ron,

Hope you're well, and that this finds you and Luna in good health. I don't need to remind you, but tomorrow's the Anniversary, and I'm going up to Hogsmeade for the ceremony. Remus'll be there, and McGonagall even said something about Dumbledore making it to the service. Everyone's turning out for the 10 year mark. Just to let you know; if you don't feel you can cope, no one is going to think the worse of you. But I think…I think if you could manage it, Harry would have wanted you to be there. I know it's hard. I mean, there isn't a day goes by I don't miss him. But still…it would be wonderful to see you. Don't let him be forgotten; he didn't die for that.

Love to you both,

Hermione