The Hogwarts Mental Institution || Harry Potter AU || ✔️

Broken World IV

Completely ignoring the gun to his head, Harry dropped to the ground of the forest, his hands on his knees and his head facing down.

It was getting harder and harder to breathe. Harry felt his vision turning fuzzy at the sides.

"Harry! Harry!" the voices sounded muddled together, but with intense focus, Harry soon matched the voice to belong to Dean.

"Harry," Dean repeated, "We're still here. Please Harry."

"They're not real. They're not real. They're not real!" Harry put his hands up to his head and began rocking back and forth, "They were never real! Why are they still here? Go away! Go away!"

Ron and Hermione just stared at him with unreadable expressions, stoic almost. Like haunted ghosts. Like evil spirits.

"Harry!" George croaked. "We're real and we need you."

Harry squeezed his eyes shut really tight and wept, "No! No! No! I have nothing here for me, I have nothing!"

Riddle once again made himself known to Harry. "While this has been fun, I really should be on my way. So what would you prefer, Mr. Potter? Should I shoot you and then your friends? Or shoot your friends while you watch and then shoot you?" Riddle chuckled, "I think of myself as a very considerate individual, so I am open to whatever you choose."

Harry tried to slow his breathing and calmed his rocking as he took in the situation. Even though he stopped caring about his life the minute he realized he didn't have one, he couldn't let the others die because of his revelation. He got them this far, he was going to take them to the finish line.

His whole life he was named a hero, but he did not feel like much of a hero in his situation.

"Kill Malfoy first, I want to watch," Harry said with dark resolution, his green eyes turned dark.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Draco threw his hands up and widened his eyes in fear, as Riddle lifted his gun towards the golden haired boy.

"Very good, Mr. Potter. I didn't expect this from you, but I am pleasantly surprised," Riddle chortled.

Using the time that Riddle had raised the gun from Harry and was distracted, Harry swiftly picked up his Firebolt broomstick and swung it around to hit Riddle's legs causing the man to fall to the misty soil of the Forbidden Forest.

As the gun dropped from the reach of Riddle, Harry used the stick side of the Firebolt to knock Riddle out until he was passed out on the ground, some blood seeping from a cut on his forehead.

Getting up from the black dirt, Harry reached for the gun and aimed it at Riddle's head in case the man would wake up again. Although Riddle was knocked unconscious from Harry's tremendous blow to the head, he was still breathing.

The rest of the people in his group looked at him in shock. One minute ago, they were all at the mercy of a psychopath masquerading as a doctor, and now, Harry seemed like he had full control of the situation with Riddle lying asleep at his feet.

"Go to the van now," Harry asserted through gritted teeth. So many emotions were running through his head, but Harry could not focus on emotions right now. His team needed a leader and a leader he would be.

"Harry," Neville said cautiously, noticing Harry still had the gun pointed down to Riddle's head.

"Now!" Harry bellowed, his grip remained firmly on the gun, but he noticed how rapidly his hands shook and tried to still them to no avail.

Without another thought, the people in his team ran for the van, knowing better than to talk sense into a schizophrenic with a gun. Because that was all he was now.

He was alone with Riddle deep in the forest, the fire from the Hogwarts Mental Institution and the wailing sirens only droning noise in the background.

Harry's hands wavered even more as he held the heavy gun in his hands. The gun became heavier and heavier with its physical weight and also the dawning emotional and psychological weight of the decision he would have to make next.

One shot and Doctor Tom Marvolo Riddle would be dead. For good.

One pull of the trigger and Harry would never have to worry about this man ever again. The man who had ruined his life not only in this world, but his fantasy world as well.

Neither realities needed this man. This monster.

Riddle had created the broken and world and maybe killing him would be the first step in putting the pieces back together.

His soul was already broken, what's a little more damage going to do anyway?

Harry had never used the Avada Kedavra spell in the wizarding world, but he assumed the killing curse would be equal to shooting someone in the head. The end result would ultimately be the same.

"Don't do this, Harry," Hermione, his voice of reason, said.

Harry kept his focus on Riddle, not even looking at where the voice was coming from. It was all in his messed up head anyway.

"Why are you telling me this?" Harry asked Hermione. "You're just in my head. You are me. Why shouldn't I kill him? He ruined my life. He killed my parents in that car crash and he got away from it scotch free. He doesn't deserve to live while innocent people died!" Harry trembled.

"If you kill him," Ron heeded, "Voldemort is just taking away another innocent's life— yours. Don't let him take away your innocence."

Harry finally looked away from Riddle's passed out body and onto Ron and Hermione, both looking as real as ever. "Don't you see?" Harry said pitifully. "He already has."

But it was his own mind convincing him not to shoot, so Harry, in all his anger, knew what the right thing to do was.

Standing up, Harry wiped away the last remaining tear stains on his face, although that did nothing to hide the deep red rim around his eyes, and threw the gun as far away into the wilderness as he could before running to join the others in the van.

When Harry finally reached the vehicle, he noticed that everyone had left the seat in the front open for him because they still considered him their leader.

It didn't matter to them that Harry had a mental breakdown because they had all been there. Knowing the troubles Harry had endured in his mind only made them respect him more.

They were still his team.

As he sat in the front passenger seat, he was hit with the distinct smell of old, crusty feet. It reminded him of the smell of the old boot that Cedric had used as a portkey when they travelled to the Quidditch World Cup in the summer of his fourth year.

Not saying a word, Cedric started the engine of the car and began warming it up.

Looking out the window, Harry was met with the faces of Ron and Hermione gazing at him.

"Do you want us to come with you?" Ron asked.

Yes, I do, Harry wanted to say, With all my heart, yes.

But he couldn't. Leaving the Hogwarts Mental Institution meant leaving everything he once knew behind to start a new life. A life that didn't involve magic and adventure and...Ron and Hermione. A normal life.

So Harry stared at them with regret and longing, but shook his head 'no.'

Hermione looked at him for a second and smiled. "We understand, Harry. We'll miss you."

Harry smiled softly, indulging his fantasies one last time. "I'll miss you too."

If anyone in the van heard Harry, they didn't say anything.

As the van started to move out of the forest and onto the main road, Harry looked back at the rearview mirror to see the bodies of Ron and Hermione against the backdrop of the fiery Mental Institution that was finally being sprayed down by firefighters.

In all the chaos, he watched his two best friends, his fake crazy hallucinations, waving at him synchronously. Their bodies got smaller and smaller until they were nothing, just as they always were and just as they always will be.