Pain and Heartbreak

The sheer whiteness of the Hospital Wing was something that could cause blindness, even when Madame Pomfrey allowed the house keeping to lag a bit, and that was not often at all. Harry closed his eyes tight again, wincing at the bright walls being further illuminated by the low winter sun.

Words, colours, memories were all flying around Harry’s head and he pressed his hands to his ears in a vain attempt to block all the noise, even though the only sound in the room was his unsteady breathing and wimpers. Still clutching the sides of his head, Harry opened his eyes slowly and sat up. Everything was blurred and he had no idea of where he was.

Is this heaven? Harry thought. Maybe it’s hell. Only hell could cause this much pain.

Pulling back the pristene covers and slowly swiveling his body, Harry then placed his feet on the floor. He wimpered and pulled back as he felt the coldness, then slowly replaced his feet and got up. His legs were shaking, from what he assumed was lack of use, as he walked slowly down the long hall towards the source of light.

As he reached the end, Harry reached up and put his hand on the freezing glass. Squinting, he could just make out the outline of snow covered trees. As he tried to push his way through the glass, Harry failed to hear the footsteps echoing throught the hospital.

He puched the glass hard and almost screamed at the pain.

“Mr Potter? What are you doing?” Turning Harry saw a blurry black shadow rushing forward. He backed into the corner, clasping his hand firmly to his chest and wimpering.

“Harry? You’re awake! Let me see your hand?” Snape moved forward to try and see but Harry just curled further into the corner, his eyes closing tight in fear.

Snape closed his eyes in realisation and straightened. Calling Madame Pomfrey from her office, he moved to sit on a bed. His putting his head in his hands, Snape’s mind replayed the scared look on Harry’s face as he had moved forward. Although he had never been at all pleasant to the boy, Harry had never been afraid of him before. The curses.... Dumbldore was right. Harry was indeed mentally damaged and it was his fault....

“Severus,” he was snatched from his brooding by the firm but quiet voice of Poppy Pomfrey. Snape looked up into the worried face of the matron, “I need you to get Dumbldore. Please, can you do that?”

Poor man, she thought as Snape stood up and walked stiffly out of the wing, he’s in shock. He has to know it’s not his fault...

Madame Pomfrey turned her attentions back to the raven haired boy in the corner and attempted to return him to bed.

******

Now safely back in bed, his hand cleaned and healed, Harry’s mind was racing. Different thoughts kept springing to the front of his mind.

Where am I?

Dark robes, red eyes... PAIN!

Please help me.

I need to tell them, I need them to know!

So much pain. Just let me die. Please, let me go...

Little black cats all sitting on the wall. No-one bothers them. Why me?

Bright green light. NO! I NEED TO HELP THEM!

All of these thoughts the same voice, his, but all had different moods and volumes. He didn’t know which to listen to and which to ignore. A new man had entered the room. He had navy robes on and his hair seemed to be long enough to tuck into his belt.

Harry clenched his jaw and let the man’s words wash over him.

“And he has been awake for how long?”

“An hour and I half, Albus,” the man in black spoke, “That’s as near as I can tell.”

Albus nodded. “I have been wondering whe this would happen.”

The Voices in Harry’s mind had become louder and faster. The words crashed into each other until the letters had become meaningless and were strewn all over his mind like parts of cars in road accidents. Car accident.....

Harry pressed his hands to his ears and started to rock back and forward as the Voices all piled up in a gigantic climax.

SOMEONE HELP ME! PLEASE!

Harry’s world went black.