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

Welcome Home II

At this, Ginny jolted out of the bed and looked at him, completely appalled. "What?"

Harry's throat felt dry, so he remained silent, reaching for a cup of water beside his bed. The icy cold liquid felt good going down his throat and he tried to ignore the red-headed beauty staring him down.

It was a genuine question. He hoped he was dead. He didn't want to think it was the other option... that he had relapsed...

After all the work he had done to shed his past, only to be thrust back into his nightmarish fantasy world... No, he had to be dead. It was the only option.

"I'm getting Hermione," Ginny said, her voice sounding heartbroken.

It took less than a minute for his bushy haired imaginary best friend to be at his side. "How are you doing, Harry?"

Harry remained silent, staring straight ahead, trying to ignore the figment of his schizophrenic mind.

At his silence, Hermione continued, "Ginny... Ginny told me that you thought you were... well, you— you aren't dead, Harry. You survived."

Harry couldn't bear to look at her and remember everything he lost. He refused to go back.

"Please, Harry. Say something. Please," Hermione begged beside him. At one point, her hand grabbed his and Harry flinched at her touch.

How could she touch him now when she never could before?

"The accident," Hermione tried to explain, "The accident was— there was a Death Eater attack. Some remaining radicals tried their last attempt at continuing Voldemort's legacy and Ginny and... and you got caught in the crossfires and—"

Harry's eyes darkened as he fixed his animalistic and vicious gaze on the disheartened friend. "You're. Not. Real."

He then turned his head away from her, making sure he couldn't see her even in his peripheral.

He heard sniffling as Hermione tried to hold back tears, but he still remained adamant in avoiding her.

"Sweetie, how about you let me talk to him?"

Harry turned his neck to see Molly Weasley with her hand on Hermione's shoulder.

"Mrs. Weasley," Harry croaked, surprised that she showed up.

"Harry, honey. It's so good to see you awake." The mother-head brushed a bit of Harry's hair away from his forehead.

Harry shook himself away from her touch. "Where's Dr. Dumbledore?"

Molly and Hermione exchanged confused glances. "Doctor Dumbledore?" Molly asked.

"I don't know where they are. Where's nurse McGonagall? Where are they?" Harry began to raise his voice, panic creeping upon him, "Dr. Riddle is on the loose, he tried to kill us. I—I need my meds... I think I'm relapsing. I'm seeing... I'm seeing them."

"Who?" Molly asked with great concern.

"Them." Harry squeezed his eyes shut and tried to block everything out. "Everything's back. It's too much. I need to— I need to get out of here."

Raising his body, attempting to get out of bed, Harry felt the hands of the two women push him back down. "Harry, you need to calm down. There is no Dr. Riddle. Voldemort is dead. You killed him. Remember? We destroyed the horcruxes," Hermione reminded.

"I didn't kill him, Mrs. Weasley," Harry said, still ignoring Hermione, "Vol— Dr. Riddle was in the car that crashed into us. He was the one who caused the accident this time. The car— He was in the car that crashed into us. He was in the car that killed my parents too! He killed my parents!" Harry began hyperventilating. "The car— He was in the car. There was red and— and there was green."

He was transported back to the car accident, but he couldn't tell which one it was. The crash that killed his parents or the crash that killed him and his friends. Riddle was responsible for them both.

Harry whispered, "There was red and there was green. They were so bright. The light was green—"

His haunted eyes pierced Molly's. "And we were dead."

"No, Harry." Hermione refused to be ignored. "You. Are. Not. Dead."

Then Hermione began muttering to herself, Red and green lights. If that's what I think it means...

"I can't go back."

"Go back where?" Hermione asked, shook out of her reverie.

Harry dismissed her.

"Go back where, Harry?" Molly repeated.

"Hogwarts."

Hermione shook her head in denial. "But... you love Hogwarts. We're rebuilding it and we can finish our seventh year. Wouldn't you want that?"

That's right, Harry remembered. He had set the damn institution on fire. Of course it had to be rebuilt before patients could be transferred back.

Determinedly Harry clenched his jaw and said, "I'm not going back there. I would rather die."