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

Welcome to Hogwarts II

"Hogwarts isn't a mental institution!" Harry exclaimed, fear gripping his heart faster than a dementor. "It's a school of—"

"Witchcraft and wizardry," the old doctor finished. "I know, Harry. You've been telling us this for the past seven years. Harry, you've been struggling with schizophrenia ever since you were a young boy. You believe that your parents were killed by a Dark Lord and that you are the only boy who could ever save it."

"It's true, professor," Harry insisted. "But Voldemort is gone now."

"There is no one named Voldemort. Harry, your parents were killed in a car crash."

"No! That's what Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon said! They put you up to this didn't they? Who are you?" Harry asked, jumping to his feet. "I'm getting out of here!"

He ran to the white door and swung it open, only to be met face to face with... a giant. "Hagrid?" Harry said, surprised. Hagrid answered by pushing Harry back inside. Harry fell to the floor by the brute force of the half-giant, his glasses knocked off his face flying askew.

"Are you alright, doctor?" Hagrid asked.

"I'm fine, Rubeus. Thank you for your concern," the doctor said, warmly. Hagrid nodded and shut the door, leaving Harry inside.

Harry scrambled to his feet, reaching out to bring his glasses back to his astonished face. "That was—"

"Rubeus Hagrid, Hogwarts's main security guard." The old doctor paused to study Harry's face. "In your world," the man continued, "I recall he was the half-giant keeper of keys and grounds of Hogwarts?"

"Professor, I know it sounds crazy but it's real. My world is real and you're part of it. You were my Headmaster. Professor Dumbledore!"

"It's Doctor Dumbledore, my dear boy."

"This doesn't make sense."

"One of our Medical scientists, Doctor Tom Riddle created a treatment that he hoped would cure you of your illness. Before you underwent the operation you were talking to Miss Ginevra Weasley."

Harry looked at Dumbledore with utter shock as Dumbledore continued, "I assume the treatment did not succeed and your memory resumes from the point before the operation to now."

"You let Voldemort operate on me?"

"Doctor Riddle is not a villain, Mr. Potter. In fact his main desire is to help people," Dumbledore said in a cool manner.

"That's what he wants you to believe. He really just wanted to kill all of the muggle-borns."

"And what exactly is a muggle-born?"

"A person who comes from a family of muggles but possesses magical abilities."

"Are you a muggle-born, Mr. Potter?"

"No, I'm a half-blood."

"Do you possess magical abilities?" Dumbledore politely asked, like an adult entertaining a child's fantasy.

Harry felt a twinge of annoyance. "Of course I do. This all probably just some weird dream and I'm going to wake up soon. Okay? So can I go?"

"If you can prove your magical abilities, you may leave."

"I don't have to prove anything to you. If you were really Dumbledore, you would already know about magic. You taught me! This all some bloody nightmare and I'm just going to wake up soon at the Burrow." Harry blinked really hard. Nothing happened. He tried pinching himself. That just hurt.

Dumbledore watched in amusement.

"This isn't funny." Harry glared.

"I realize your confusion, Mr. Potter—"

"No. You don't." Harry said, coldly. "I don't know why you and Hagrid are acting like brain washed monkeys and what exactly I'm doing here. If you would just let me leave, then I'll find someone who can help you. Maybe Professor McGonagall or even Mr. Weasley. I mean, they would probably be really surprised to see you here and well... alive, but I'm sure they'd love to help the both of you."

"I'm not the one who needs the help, Mr. Potter."

"Yes, you do."

"If you don't need help, why did your Aunt Petunia send you here?"

"That's exactly what I've been saying!"

"Tell me, Harry. Why do you choose to believe in your world? Your world of magic and terrifying beasts? Is it better than this world?"

Harry looked around at the padded walls and the bars on the windows. Yes. He thought, but he decided not to say that aloud in case he might actually prove Dumbledore's point.

"Does it make you feel better? Being the hero in your world?" the doctor questioned further.

"Of course not! You don't know what I've been through. So many people died and you're telling me I enjoy it."

"You told me I died, yet here I am," Dumbledore countered.

"This isn't the first time I've talked to you since you died."

"When did I die, Harry?" Dumbledore inquired.

Harry gazed at Dumbledore, bewildered. "Um, when I was sixteen."

"When you were sixteen, I left Hogwarts for about a year to deal with family issues. I don't remember dying in the process."

Harry resisted rolling his eyes, Dumbledore's constant denial was really ticking him off.

"Perhaps," Dumbledore said, softly, "you assumed my leave was permanent because anyone outside of Hogwarts doesn't exist or love you."

Harry looked away, not believing a word coming from Dumbledore's mouth. "Your Aunt Petunia would like you to know that's not true. She would love to have you back, Harry."

"Don't psychoanalyze me."

"Your Aunt and Uncle love you and miss you very much—"

"They don't! Don't you dare lie to me! My home is at the Burrow and I'm going there right now," Harry seethed, standing to his feet.

"Hagrid would just bring you back in, Harry."

"So I'm a prisoner?"

"You are not a prisoner, Harry."

"Then let me leave."

"Prove to me you have magical abilities and you are free to go."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Fine," he muttered under his breath.

Harry focused on the door. His wandless magic had improved and he hoped that his skills wouldn't abandon him now.

He concentrated, blocking all sounds out and remained fixated on the one task at hand, opening the door. He took a deep breath in.

Alohomora.

The door remained shut.

Harry turned to face Dumbledore. "It would be easier if I had my wand."

"You mean this?" Dumbledore asked, reaching into his pocket and pulling out an ancient looking chain. At the center there was an emblem that looked strangely like... "My wand," Harry said softly.

"Not exactly what you expected, is it?"

Harry just held out his hand in shock and Dumbledore let the chain flow out of his hands and into Harry's. Harry felt nothing but cold dread inside him.

Alohomora.

Harry's voice cracked. He didn't know what to do. He was lost. He had no magic.

"Would you like some breakfast, Harry?" Dumbledore asked. "It looks like you are going to be staying at the Hogwarts Mental Institution."