His lips felt funny. He tasted something like paste in his mouth and his throat hurt. He heard the beeping, he felt something small and cold in his arm and something closed around his finger. He felt plastic around his wrist and again, he saw the same light through his eyelids. He groaned and shifted. His head pounded.

"He’s waking," he heard soft whispers that weren’t far away anymore, but close to him. And it wasn’t the voice. Half of him felt like he was still on the raft and half of him felt like he had drowned and he wanted his body to choose for him where he was supposed to be.

"Harry," he heard a man say. "Wake up now." Harry groaned and shifted again, his eyes were shaking and finally they opened.

A middle aged man was peering into his face. He had white hair and wrinkles on his forehead and under his eyes. He put his thumb under Harry's eye and shone a light in front of it, then he did the same for the other. Harry was cold and nervous. He just wanted to fall back asleep, and maybe if he did, he would find the raft again and escape-

"Do you know where you are?" The man asked seriously and sat on his bed and held a stern gaze with him. Harry of course knew he was in a muggle hospital and he nodded.

"Do you remember what happened?" Harry, who unfortunately did, nodded again. He wished he didn’t remember though.

"Tell me what happened." Harry opened his mouth to try and protest, that he didn’t want to talk about anything but nothing came out. He found his throat incredibly dry and he tried to swallow the paste he felt, but every time he did, there was still some there.

"Tell me, Harry, what you did." Harry began to feel pain in his chest, and not from his broken ribs, but from despair. He knew no matter how long he laid there without speaking, the old man would continue to push him.

"I killed him," he croaked. "I killed Dudley." Harry waited for the man to nod, but he didn’t.

"From the beginning, try and tell me what happened." Harry tried to think of where to begin, but couldn’t.

"I..W-...I got beaten up a little," he started hoping that this was a good place to start. "I came home and Dudley laughed at me then I went upstairs to clean myself up and he came and taunted me, made me angry and we fought a little and he punched me in the ribs and I fell down." Harry swallowed more paste and continued. "Then he went to his room and I tried to get back up and when I did, he passed the restroom in the hall and I... I followed him and I ...I think I pushed him down the stairs."

"You think you pushed him down the stairs?" Harry nodded and looked down to his hands. They were so white...

"I don’t really remember myself at all pushing him, only he was in front of me, then at the bottom of the stairs, dead." The old man nodded.

"Then what did you do?" Harry sunk into the hospital bed and clenched his fists. He wished he could just feel numb like he had before....

"Harry, what did you do next?"

"What do you think I did," he quietly snapped without looking at the doctor.

"You tell me." And the doctor smiled patiently for Harry to speak, but he didn’t.

"What did you do next, Harry-"

"I took my aunts pills, all right." And Harry looked away from the doctor and his hands off to the side to hide the tears in his eyes but froze when he saw shadows from the curtained windows outside of the room.

"Why?" The doctor asked and Harry looked back at him, not really knowing what to say, then he glared at the man for not letting him die.

"I already told you!" He yelled. "I killed m-"

"Oh, he isn’t dead, Harry." Harry, who didn’t believe him, shook his head.

"No, I saw it. He was at the bottom of the stairs and he had blood coming from his mouth-"

"He got a concussion and bit his tongue when he hit the floor," the doctor said. "He's already being released in an hour or two." Harry took in a slow deep breath, exhaled and looked away.

"Can I be released too?" He saw the doctor shake his head.

"Not now," he said. "First I need to hear you say what you did." Harry narrowed his eyes and focused on a counter that was at the side of the room.

"I overdosed."

"How," the doctor asked and Harry wondered if he was mentally challenged.

"With pills obviously," Harry snapped.

"Why?" And Harry, now angry with frustration turned back to the doctor and gave him an ugly look.

"For the what? Third time? I told you! I thought I killed him! Why cant you understand the simple words I'm telling you?" Harry began breathing hard and fast and before long, his chest hurt and he had tears down his face again. The whole time the doctor remained seated on the bed calmly looking at him patiently, waiting for him to calm down. When he did, the doctor spoke.

"Now," he began. "I need to hear you tell me what you did to yourself." Harry's chest tightened and he closed his eyes.

"I overdosed."

"What did you try and do?" Harry took in a deep breath of the clean air that smelled like alcohol.

"I tried to...to kill myself. I wanted to die." Harry opened his eyes and looked at the doctor who merely nodded.

"Now I want you to tell me why you wanted to die," he calmly said.

"I don’t know," Harry told him.

"Was it because of your godfather?" Harry looked back up at him. The Dursley’s didn’t know about Sirius.

"How do you know about him?" He asked.

"A few friends of yours told me he had recently died." And Harry went cold. They were here....

"A few friends?" The doctor nodded.

"They arrived a few hours ago, they're outside now. Several of them too," the doctor chuckled. Harry went colder and colder and then he heard the beeping noises from his IV get a little faster, then faster.

"Calm down son," the doctor said. "Would you like sedatives?" Harry nodded and the doctor injected something into his IV and Harry felt himself beginning to feel calmer and calmer. It felt good, but not as good as the raft. Then the doctor patted his arm.

"My name is Doctor Ryan, Harry. If you need anything, tell a nurse to contact me." And he turned and as he was walking to the door, Harry stopped him.

"Doctor Ryan?" He turned.

"What do you need, Harry?"

"What is this paste stuff in my mouth?" Ryan smiled and walked to the sink and filled a small cup with water and walked back to Harry with it and also a small tub.

"We needed to push a tube down your throat to pump it," he said handing Harry the cup to rinse. "The paste was added to the tube to protect your esophagus and help it slide down easier and quicker." Harry rinsed and spit the water into the tray and laid back in bed.

"Are you tired?" The doctor asked and Harry nodded.

"Then you better get some rest. I wont let anyone see you until then." And he walked to the door and turned off the light and left with the nurse Harry didn’t even know was there, leaving Harry in a semi-dark room with several blinking lights around him.

"He's asleep," Harry heard Doctor Ryan from the other side of the door say to someone. "You can see him when he wakes."

"Thank you, sir," he heard a woman say, and it sounded like Tonks. Harry's chest tightened again. Not only were the Weasleys here, the Order was probably here to. Harry turned to his side being careful not to pull the IV cords too much and sighed into his pillow. Then he silently cried, not wanting them to hear.

....

....

"I'm here."

The entire Weasley family, excluding Percy, Hermione and most of the Order were there. Seated in small uncomfortable blue waiting chairs, walking back and forth a few feet or just leaning against the wall waiting for their friend to wake up.

They had got the news a few hours ago, that he had tried to kill himself. They were all convinced it was an accident however, they didn’t want to believe the painful truth but when Dumbledore asked the Dursley’s excessively what had happened and also about his mood that summer, he was the first to realize that it was true, that Harry was in fact suicidal. The Order and his friends didn’t take it well though.

When Albus had explained the situation, based on information from the Dursley’s, only Hermione and Mrs. Weasley sobbed a little bit, but the rest were completely quiet. This was something none of them had ever dealt with before. Even the aurors who were used to unfortunate surprises had never been faced with it.

Now they were waiting for Harry to wake up. They were nervous and didn’t know how to handle the situation or how to act around him anymore. They knew there were some things they just couldn’t say anymore, things they couldn’t bring up and they all hoped something wouldn’t accidentally slip and push him over the edge again. They were desperate.

However, Dumbledore, as he paced back and fourth nervously, knew of an even bigger problem than Harry's attempt suicide. One he hadn’t informed anyone about because he didn’t think they could take it just yet, but he knew he couldn’t avoid the situation forever since it involved Harry's future living arrangements. The Dursley’s had simply refused to take him back.

He hurt Dudley, not badly, but enough to make the family realize what a potential threat Harry was to them, to his environment. The Vernon man, when Dumbledore interrogated him, he was enraged at Harry and kept making threats to kill him himself. Petunia however seemed sympathetic for Harry and her son and though she didn’t seem to want to agree with her husband on kicking Harry out, she did anyway. And Dudley, he seemed sorry. He told Dumbledore it was his fault for taunting Harry and tempting him to do what he did. He said if he hadn’t messed with him, he wouldn’t have pushed him and overdosed.

But no matter how much Dumbledore ordered, or pleaded with Vernon, he just wouldn’t have it. He said he just couldn’t have the boy living with them with his problems and all but he said he would allow Harry to fetch his things when he left the hospital but he had to do it quickly. And Dumbledore understood the mans concern for his family and after two hours of debating, Dumbledore lost and Harry had no where to go. The blood protection, the security he had when he lived at Number 4 ended swiftly and silently, like a lamb about to be sacrificed. Harry had nothing, no one and Dumbledore didn’t know what to do. And he didn’t know what to say.

They were all silent when they heard talking in Harry's room. Doctor Ryan and the nurse were in there and they could faintly hear Harry say something, then something louder as if he were upset. For what was only about ten minutes felt like years. Their hearts sank deeper and deeper and they all had seemed to have lost hope, not only for the boy but for the war that was going on.

They all went pale as Doctor Ryan came from the room and the ones sitting in the chairs stood, but Dr. Ryan held up his hand.

"He's asleep," Ryan said. "You can see him when he wakes." And as disappointed as they were they nodded until Tonks with fiery hair mustered strength to speak.

"Thank you, sir," she said and the doctor nodded and departed.