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

Welcome Home III

Hermione quickly left the room after that. Harry knew her enough, or at least his version of who she might be, to know that she had gone off to do more research or cry; perhaps even both.

Molly looked dejectedly at the broken boy. "Get some rest, Harry. You'll feel better when you wake up."

She picked up a small blue bottle by his bedside and tilted its contents into his mouth. Harry didn't know why he agreed to drink it, but he just felt so tired, he couldn't resist anything.

Even before the last drops of the potion hit his tongue, Harry felt himself drifting off to sleep once more.

The next time he awoke, he felt much more energized and alert. This time, the room was empty and he could actually observe where he was with greater clarity.

The first thing that caught his attention was the long thick stick at his bedside. How could he have not seen it before?

His wand was sitting there at the ready. He felt around his neck for his father's old chain, but it had disappeared... and his wand was back.

Cautiously and with trembling hands, Harry picked up the jagged piece of wood and nimbly felt its grooves and ridges. Power surged through him like electricity.

It was like... magic.

Harry furrowed his brows in deep concentration as he experienced the influence of his schizophrenia.

Where was nurse McGonagall with his medication?

He remembered his first day at the Hogwarts Mental Institution after he woke up from the surgery. Dumbledore gave him James Potter's ancient chain and told him he could leave if he could perform a spell. Any spell.

Harry chose Alohomora and unsurprisingly, it didn't work.

However, this time, with his true wand in his hand, Harry felt compelled to try once more.

There was no harm in trying, Harry reassured himself.

He raised his wand towards the door and Alohomora.

Even with a simple spell like that, Harry felt a rush of new energy consume him. It was like he was given a shot of Firewhiskey.

The door, that was once closed, had shot wide open.

No. Way. Harry thought, his eyes widening in shock at the turn of events.

He jumped out of bed and reached for the pile of clothes that were sitting on a chair beside him. Haphazardly throwing things on, Harry didn't realize someone was watching until a cough—

Immediately, his fight-or-flight response taking over, Harry pointed his wand at the innocent bystander, prepared for any standoff.

"Mr. Potter, I am your healer today." The young lady had her hands raised in fear. "You were admitted after a run-in with Death Eaters. You've been in and out of consciousness. We've used a few potions and draughts to keep you sedated, while we healed your mind. There must have been a cross of spells—"

"STOP LYING TO ME!" Harry yelled at the poor mediwitch, who was just trying to do her job.

Harry still had his wand pointed at her. "None of this is real? Is it? It's all just in my head?"

"No, Mr. Potter, I assure you this is real."

Harry let out a cynical scoff as he disagreed. "Magic isn't real. Magic is the fantasy a child locked in a cupboard under the stairs comes up with to escape his sad reality." His lips began to quiver as everything dawned on him. "I will never believe in magic again."

"Then don't believe in magic." Ginny's voice came from behind the nurse.

Harry turned his gaze unto the headstrong girl.

"Don't believe in magic... but believe in us." Ginny gestured at Ron and Hermione who stood by her side. "Because we will never stop believing in you."

"They're not real, Gin," Harry said pitifully. However, he did lower his wand and let Ginny walk towards him and hold his hands. "Every time I felt like I had hope. It was taken away from me. Every time I got close. I can't go through that again."

"If they're not real, would you be able to touch them?" Ginny asked softly.

Harry shook his head no, his eyes focused on Ginny and Ginny alone.

Ginny waved her hand asking Ron and Hermione to walk forwards and they did.

"If Ron and Hermione are able to touch you, will you believe they are real?"

"I— I don't know."

"Let's just see, alright?" She cajoled patiently.

She took his hand and put one in Ron's and one in Hermione's. Then she backed away and let Harry process the feeling of holding his best friends.

"Harry, we're here." Hermione squeezed his hand gently.

Harry squeezed back, feeling how different Ron and Hermione's hands felt.

Ron's hands were calloused and weathered down from years of playing quidditch, while Hermione's were soft and smooth.

Harry sunk to his knees, bringing the two people closest to him down with him.

He gripped their hands tighter and tighter to the point of pain, but Ron and Hermione gave no indication for him to stop. They would do whatever it took to help bring their constant companion back from the depths of oblivion.

"You're real?" Harry asked, his tone almost begging. "You're really here? You won't lie to me?"

"Never," Ron said with great vigor.

"You won't leave me?" Harry knew he sounded like a child, but he didn't care.

"Never," Hermione confirmed.

You'll stay with me?

Until the very end.

At that, Harry could feel tears springing to his eyes as pieces began to fall into place.

They were real.

The ones who love us never really leave us.

They were his family.

They were his home.

Ron and Hermione both leaned forward to embrace their best friend and the three of them stayed there, huddled on the floor.

Harry could not remember the last time he smelled Hermione's flowery shampoo or Ron's over-applied cologne. To him, it was the sweetest scent in the world.