A/N: So sorry about the wait. Thanks for all your reviews.


Chapter Nine

It strikes me, as I Iook into the weary eyes of Albus Dumbledore, that I am a pawn in his chess game. It is fitting though, that I am led to my capture by the Weasleys. I am beginning to suspect that I did actually have something to do with Ron's death, however indirectly. I hope, wherever he is now, that he's not cursing the day he sat with me on the Hogwarts Express.

"Good morning, Albus," I say, a smile on my face that must make me look as demented as I am no doubt said to be.

"Harry." Albus greets me, token twinkle absent for once.

"Shall I kill you now, or should I wait to hear your excuses?" I ask, my fists clenching. I think I might actually believe I can for a moment. Or at least I pretend to believe.

I am grabbed from behind before he can reply. I can't help but hate that particular Weasley twin. George, I think.

"Dumbledore, I don't think this is a good idea." Fred. I always liked Fred.

"I am very sorry, Harry, this is a bit of a misunderstanding."

Misunderstanding? A misunderstanding is forgetting my name. A misunderstanding is a botched OWL mark. How is shutting me up in an institution in another continent a misunderstanding? A misinterpretation of my craziness, perhaps? A slightly off-kilter madness scale?

"I'll show you misunderstanding." I growl, ready to rip his throat out.

"Now, now, Potter, don't go murdering the most important man in the wizarding world." Blond hair. Not him. Not again.

"Malfoy, what are you doing here?" In the Burrow of all places. His filthy presence here is wrong.

"Just doing my job." He said cheerfully. But there was something... concern? Worry? Caution? All foreign expressions on Malfoy and therefore unrecognisable.

"You're a liar, Malfoy."

"A cheat, thief, murdering bastard, manipulating coward. I've heard it all before and I deny nothing." Still as casual as if he'd never fooled me into thinking he was a good guy.

I stare at him, taking in his poncy clothing, his slicked back hair. It occurs to me that he really hasn't changed since Hogwarts. Like that was miniature Draco Malfoy and now it's the life sized version. I wonder if I look the same or if being hospitalised has changed me. It wouldn't surprise me, I haven't exactly looked in the mirror lately to check. Not even in the hotel room. Strange. I didn't think to look. I guess I just didn't want to see what that place had done to me. If it had driven me mad, you know, like I'd gained a large neon sign saying "I'm completely nutters". I laugh at the thought.

"Mad," Malfoy mutters and I laugh harder. "Completely mad."

I just barely catch the chastising glance Malfoy gets from Dumbledore. I frown. Right under the old man's thumb. Like an insect ready to be squished.

"We need you, Harry. The world needs you." Somehow that line comes straight from a comic book. Like I'm the fabulous Boy-Who-Lived, ready to save the world from its latest terror. Wait, I am. Harry Potter, Superhero. And I can't bring myself to crack a smile. No wonder there.

I jerk a little in George's grip and find it like iron. Beater's arms, I guess. "You certainly didn't need me before." I sneer. Almost Snape level, I like to think. How dare they come back to me after disposing of me so disgustingly?

Then Dumbledore utters the only sentence that could ever make my stomach sink down to my shoes. "Voldemort is back."

When Dumbledore announced their need for me, I'd assumed it was a whole new problem, but it seemed it was just the exact same one. Like life was dealing me the same shit over and over. How could this happen? Three years ago I thought I'd finally killed that monster. He really is inhuman.

My knees buckle suddenly and George, startled, lets go. I don't run though, I should, but I don't. Instead I just sink to the ground. I curl my knees up to my chest, pressing hard, and drop my head. It's like all of the fight has been sucked out of me through a syringe.

There is a sickly silence in the room. No one wants to comfort a crazy person, no one wants to further anger them. So they leave me be. And I can't breathe with the weight of it.