"What's going to happen now, mum?" Ron asked as they were all standing in Harry's room ignoring the Dr. Ryan’s orders about not seeing him until he was awake. Technically, they weren’t breaking any rules. They were simply waiting until he did wake up.

Mrs. Weasley, who was on the bed sitting next to Harry, who seemed to be sleeping under the blankets, shook her head.

"I don't know, dear," she said and patted Harry's arm gently. After a while, Hermione, for the first time in hours, spoke up.

"Don't they have to keep him here for a while now," she asked the adults which consisted of Mad-Eye, Tonks and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. Bill and Charlie were outside the room with Ginny, the Twins and Kingsley Shacklebolt.

"What are you talking about?" Tonks asked.

"You know, for observation," Hermione asked with a hint of confusion in her voice. "Isn't that muggle hospital policy, Mr. Weasley?" He nodded faintly.

"Yes," he said. "Muggle hospitals do tend to keep people who have...well, they keep them for a while to see if they have any noticeable signs that they might...do it again, yes-"

"The hell he will stay here," Mad-Eye barked. "Once the doctor says he’s ok, we're going to take him from this damn place-"

"And take him where?" Mr. Weasley asked assertively. "Dumbledore said the muggles didn’t want anything to do with him and You-Know-Who will be after him since he no longer has the blood protection from the-"

"We have to hide him," Made-Eye interrupted. "Until school starts." Then Mr. Weasley spoke again.

"Yes, but where? You-Know-Who will be looking everywhere for him. There isn’t a place in the world-"

"In the least likely place you could ever find Potter," Mad-Eye assured.

"And where is this place," Mr. Weasley asked and everyone looked at Mad-Eye hoping they would get the answer. They were disappointed for now however.

"Dumbledore says he knows of a place where no one would ever think to look," Mad-Eye told him.

"Yes," Mrs. Weasley began. "But where exactly is this place?" Mad-Eye shook his head.

"He hasn’t told us yet," Mad-Eye said. "But he was convinced it was the safest place-"

"Oh!" Hermione shrieked. "Just like he was convinced Godric's Hallow was the safest place for Harry's parents? Look what happened to them! How do you know it wont happen again?" But Mad-Eye glared at her.

"There was...conflicts before. They were stabbed in the back-"

"Harry," she cried. "Was stabbed in the back! By Dumbledore! And by us too!" She began panting hard and Ron rubbed her back to try and calm her down.

"What are you talking about, Hermione?" Tonks asked. "When did we, or Dumbledore ever betray Harry?" And Hermione’s face twisted as she spoke.

"This summer," she said quietly. "Now. Everyone assumed he was ok, that he was fine and well...but...but now look at him. Look where he's at." She looked down at her hands.

"He was alone for yet another month, but unlike last year, it was worse. He wanted information then, but he needed help now and no one, not even Ron or me...we weren’t there at all for him."

And no one spoke. They either looked away or sat in a chair with their heads in their hands. They knew she was right. She was exactly correct.

Harry was beginning to get uncomfortable lying in the same position and it was a little too warm under the blanket. He had been awake when they first came in, but couldn’t confront them then. And now, now that he heard the conversation that made him want to sick up, it was even harder now.

He wanted to just tell Hermione she was wrong. That they were the best friends anyone could have, but she was wrong. He was the one who betrayed them. He betrayed them all, his friends, his parents, the Order and the entire Wizarding World. He wasn’t a Gryffindor. He wasn’t a Ravenclaw; he couldn’t even be a Hufflepuff. He was lower than the Slytherins. He wasn’t a wizard. He wasn’t even himself anymore. He was a puppet. And Voldemort, Voldemort was the puppeteer, the ventriloquist.

For Harry, every second he had to keep quiet, every second he had to keep still and try not to stir, built up apprehension and he tried to fight off the sick feeling in his gut. He was embarrassed, he was marked and no matter what, no one would forget what he did. And the rest of the wizarding world, he knew the word probably got out; they would forever see him as weak and selfish. Ignorant and immature. Lazy, always wanting the easy way out. He desperately wished he hadn't done it. He wished he could just go back in time and redo what he did but he knew that was never going to happen. Ever.

If any conversation took place after this, Harry wasn’t paying attention enough to hear it. He was trying to comprehend what they had just said. The muggles kicked him out and now, Voldemort could get to him. He could even enter Number Four and the thought made Harry's stomach hurt worse. If this was true, Voldemort could easily harm the Dursleys and even though Harry wasn’t completely fond of them, he didn’t want them dying for his mistake. And what is this place Mad-Eye spoke of? Harry hoped it was somewhere relaxing. Somewhere he could clear his head and think about everything. Somewhere nice, like a remote island that was warm and sandy and had coconuts. Somewhere he could be alone, and be free for a few months. Harry desperately wished that was the place...

When Harry woke, the first thing he saw was Mrs. Weasley with a sad, concerned gaze on him. Instantly, he sat up in bed and moved away from her like she was some sort of dangerous convict and for a split second she showed the hurt caused by his action, but then she went back to her normal demeanor again. He nervously looked around the room and noticed them all looking at him. And now, Dr. Ryan was there. And the nurse too.

"It's ok," the voice told Harry. "I'm right here."

"Harry," Dr. Ryan greeted. "How are you feeling?"

No answer.

"Well I'm sure you're pleased your friends are here."

No answer.

"However, they can return in a few moments when I'm done asking you a few questions," the doctor said just as kind. Obviously taking the hint, everyone left the room, except for the nurse.

"Well Harry," the doctor began. "I hope you wouldn’t mind answering a few more questions about yesterday?" And Harry looked at him with large pleading eyes, and shook his head, but not because he was answering his question, but because he was protesting. He wouldn’t, he couldn’t speak of yesterday. Not while they were here... He didnt want to tell the doctor, and for the doctor to tell them....

"Harry?" Dr. Ryan asked when he noticed his trepidation.

"No..." he whispered nervously, but held his gaze with the doctor hoping he would understand. But he didn’t. Or maybe he did, but didn’t say anything.

"Please, Harry. Just one tiny question?" And Harry, who wanted nothing more than to leave the room, nodded after about a minute. After all, it was just a tiny question...

"Before you found your aunts pills in her drawer," and Harry deeply regretted his agreement. "What were you looking for?" And Harry shrugged.

"If you answer, he'll go away," the voice told him.

"Nothing," he said quietly, but the doctor frowned.

"Then what was your purpose at all in her bedroom if you weren’t looking for something? I believe the stairs were located at one end of the hallway, and the master bedroom at the other? I know I said only one question, but please, I know it's difficult." You have no idea, Harry thought. "But try to cooperate." And Doctor Ryan moved closer and sat at the end of the bed.

"Now," he began. "What were you looking for in her room before you found the pills? I believe Mrs. Dursley said they were safely tucked away, but if you came across them, you must have been searching for something." But again, Harry shook his head, trying to fight the nervous feeling in his stomach.

"Nothing," he lied. Doctor Ryan held his gaze on Harry for a long while before he briefly glanced away, but then he reunited with Harry's eyes and he asked again.

"There must have been something you were looking for," he pushed. "I don't believe that you just stumbled into her bottom drawer and your hand magically found the pills." When he said magically, Harry almost laughed, but he didn’t. He didn’t even smile.

"A phone perhaps? To call your relatives?" Harry shook his head hoping it would stop there. That everything would just stop. But it didn’t.

"A gun?" And Harry narrowed his eyes, shook his head and scoffed. But the doctor was convinced Harry was indeed looking for a gun.

"He think's you're crazy," the voice said. For a while, Harry thought he should leave it at that. Make the doctor think he was looking for a gun rather than something to hang himself with, but knew a shooting yourself was worse than hanging yourself. The sick feeling rose from his stomach to his chest and lingered there for a moment before Harry took a deep breath and spoke.

"A scarf," Harry told him and the doctor lowered his eyebrows.

"A scarf...?" And Harry nodded twice.

"Wh-" Then the Dr. Ryan froze his mouth as he understood and left it half open for a while, halfway through a word and looked up at the nurse that was standing against the wall. He nodded, then she nodded obviously this was some sort of signal because next, she drew out her small walkie-talkie from her nurse uniform pocket.

"Send Ms. Reeves to room 232 please," and let go of the talk button and calmly smiled at Harry as she stuck the pathetic muggle technology back in one of her front pockets.

"Who do you think Ms. Reeves is?"

"I don’t know," the voice answered.

"Harry," Doctor Ryan called. Harry, who was still trying to understand why the nurse was calling Reeves, looked back at the doctor. "Ms. Reeves specializes in youth mental health evaluations. She is going to ask you questions that you must answer as best you can, ok?" But Harry shook his head.

"No," he said. "It's not ok." But the doctor smiled sadly.

"It's not as bad as it seems. The questions are fairly simple-"

"Tiny questions, right," Harry said sarcastically but Doctor Ryan paid no attention and instead stood up and pulled a chair from the far side of the room next to Harry's bed, obviously for this Reeves broad.

Harry scoffed angrily and shook his head at they way the doctor was treating him, like if he was really some crazy kid with problems. As if he really needed to be here at all.

"What do I do?" Harry asked the voice, panicky.

"But what if it is? What if it's worse?" Harry protested. The voice didn’t answer.

Then Ms. Reeves walked in, pretty, wavy brunette hair and young around 25, holding a blue clipboard with a pink paper attached to it. She smiled at Harry, nodded at the doctor and sat down at the chair that had been previously set out for her. She crossed her legs and smoothed out her skirt before holding out her hand for Harry to shake it. He didn’t shake it though, but she didn’t seem to mind. She just cleared her throat, scooted her chair closer and remained smiling.

"Hello," she began and glanced at the paper. "Harry," she finished looking back at him with the same overly happy smile. "My name is Anni Reeves, but you can just call me Anni." Harry nodded.

"Now," she began. "There are a few questions I'd like to ask you. But before we get to that, there are a few things we should discuss before I begin." Harry nodded again.

"The questions I'm going to ask you are part of a basic psychological evaluation. Do you know what a psychological evaluation is?"

Harry, who was now fidgeting with his plastic bracelet around his left wrist, spoke. "Nope," he said, and as casual as if someone had asked him 'Have you seen my other shoe?'

"A psychological evaluation is sort of like a test, Mr. Potter. A test to determine if the patient may be diagnosed with one or more of various behavioral, emotional or mental disorders. The main three mental disorders are Depression, Bi-Polar Disorder and Schizophrenia. However, several people who feel that they may have one of the three undergo a psychological evaluation and find that they aren’t diagnosed at all." She cleared her throat again and continued.

"Do you have any questions?" When Harry shook his head, she cleared her throat yet again, and looked at her clip board for a little while, then smiled back at him.

"First, Mr. Potter," Anni said kindly. "I'd like to start off with some simple yes/no questions."

"Sure," Harry agreed and sat up straight in the hospital bed.

"First question," she began. "Have you thought of committing suicide before?"

"This is going to be horrible," Harry commented.

"No," he said clearly, though his mouth was dry and his hands were sweaty. He wished nothing more than to be away from here. He could feel the choking feeling in his throat rise. He could even hear and feel his own pulse... and Anni, she just marked his answer on the paper that was attached to the clipboard and smiled back up at him, ready for the second question. Knowing how bad and unnecessary the entire situation was, he just decided to take the voice's advice, ignoring his intense mixed emotions and the horrible sick feeling at the pit of his stomach.

"Have you ever had any other suicide attempts before?"

"No," Harry said, thinking if that he had said 'no' to the last question, why he was being asked this one. However, he felt sweat between his fingers and thought if he began to rub his hands, it would appear as if he were nervous and he didn't want anyone to doubt his answers.

"Good Harry," the voice said encouragingly. "Just like that, and you'll be done with this. Possibly even out of the hospital as well. Just a few more." But Harry knew the voice was just trying to make him feel better.

"This next question Mr. Potter will allow me to determine which questions will be appropriate to ask later on during the test." She fidgeted in her seat and continued.

"Are you sexually active?" And Harry, though he felt like his heart couldn’t sink any lower or his throat couldn’t hurt any more, found himself trying not to smile. He felt himself turning red with embarrassment.

"No," he mumbled and waited for the next question.

"More recently, do you find yourself engaging in inappropriate activates such as drinking, using drugs, illegal drugs or sex?"

"No," Harry told her and Anni glanced at her clipboard then looked back at him. He felt too warm with his legs under the blanked and wished someone would lower the a/c in the entire hospital.

"Now Mr. Potter, these questions may take a little more effort to answer. And instead of yes/no, I'd like you to answer them on a scale of one through five. One being never, two being rarely, three being sometimes, four being most of the time and five being always. Was that clear to you?" Harry nodded.

"First question," she began. "On a daily basis, do you have trouble getting dressed?"

"Zero," he said, thinking that was such a dumb question.

"See how easy that last question was? It'll be much easier now, don't worry." The voice told him comfortingly.

"Do you have dizzy spells?"

"Zero," he said not knowing if he liked being asked overly personal questions better than obvious questions like the ones he was being asked now.

"Do you have trouble walking in circles?"

"Zero" Harry answered, wondering if she was just making things up to be funny. But she looked quite serious.

"Do you often have strange mood swings? Like being happy one minute, then angry the next?"

Harry didn’t know if he should answer zero or four. Often, he did have these mood swings.

"What should I say?" Harry asked the voice. "I do have them a lot."

"Say two," the voice said. "It's not that bad. I'm sure everyone has them anyway, and if you say zero, it might seem like you're lying."

"Two," Harry told Anni, taking the voice's suggestion, and Anni smiled and marked it on her clipboard.

"Do you now think or engage in sexual activities more often now than before?"

"Zero," he said, feeling as if he could be sick. Frustration and embarrassment arose in his stomach more than ever.

"Do you often feel like you haven’t accomplished anything great in your life and never will?"

"Zero," he told her, though he felt worthless most of the time. He was glad she was a muggle and didn’t know of his destiny, or about the prophecy or about anything like that.

"Have you ever cut, scratched or purposely harmed yourself? If so, one through five."

"Zero," he said, finding this question extremely easy even though it was still quite personal.

"Do you often have trouble making new friends or meeting new people?"

"Zero," Harry told her.

"Just a few more now," the voice said again and Harry was glad the voice was there to push him along. He wondered how much harder it would be if the voice wasn’t with him.

"Do you ever feel sad, blue, unhappy or 'down in the dumps'?"

"I cant lie on this one," Harry told the voice.

"Three is reasonable," the voice said to him and Harry found he thought the same, even though he felt it should be five.

"Three," he lied.

"Do you feel tired, having little energy, or fatigued?"

"One," he said, hoping that was normal.

"Do you ever feel uneasy, restless or irritable?"

"One," Harry told her, knowing for a fact that everyone felt these things from time to time.

"Do you have difficulties making decisions?"

"Zero," he told Anni calmly, finding himself less and less nervous and sick.

"Do you have trouble sleeping or eating whether it being too little or too much?""What do I say?" Harry asked the voice. The right answer should have been five, but he couldn’t bring himself to answer correctly.

"Three," the voice told him. And Harry answered what the voice told him to answer.

"Do you feel that you are not enjoying the activities that you used to?"

"Zero," Harry said, knowing he never really enjoyed much activities to begin with.

"Do you ever hallucinate, like seeing or imagining things that aren’t there?"

"Zero," Harry said, knowing it might as well be a yes/no question since if you answered at least a one, there was obviously something wrong with you.

"Just one more question, Mr. Potter." Anni said and Harry felt relieved, as if he had just emerged from being under for a minute, then took a breath.

"See," the voice told him. "That wasn't as bad as you thought. It's already the last question. You can do it."

"Do you hear voices in your head?" Anni asked.

"No," Harry lied, and as calmly as ever. Anni smiled, marked the last question on her clipboard, shook hands with the doctor and left.

"See Harry," Doctor Ryan said once Anni was gone, and he and the others entered. "It wasn't that bad." And Harry felt embarrassed with his comment, like Harry was a little kid getting a shot on his arm.

Harry didn’t know where to look now. He would feel stupid if he looked around the room at the others and feel like he was making them believe he was hiding something if he looked down and messed around with his hospital bracelet.

"What am I supposed to do now," Harry asked the voice.

“How are you feeling, Harry dear?”

“Fine,” Harry mumbled, gaining more confidence to look up at her. She was smiling faintly at him and gave rubbed his shoulder gently for a few moments. From the corner of his eye, he saw Mad-Eye and Tonks standing near the door, whispering quietly to each other. He hadn’t even realized his head had moved completely towards them until he saw them stop whispering and move away from one another, as if they were hiding something.

Harry looked down at his hand and found it red. He then knew he was probably tugging at the plastic hospital bracelet they put on patients the entire evaluation, but hadn‘t known he was even doing it.. Thinking it was probably stretched a little, he tried to pull it off but it still wouldn’t slide off and this just made his hand redder.

“What time is it?” Harry asked looking around at the people who were looking at him. There wasn’t a single clock in the room, and he wondered if it was around a meal time because he felt strangely empty, but not like he had been all summer, but because he was hungry.

“It’s almost eight past morning,” Mr. Weasley informed him, looking at his watch.

Harry was surprised it was so late. He thought it was around noon, one at latest. He wondered how long he had been sleeping and how long he had been there. A day? Two?

Minutes passed, but for Harry they seemed like hours. He wanted them to say something. To yell, scold, anything. But there was a part of him that wanted to say something as well. That he was sorry, maybe. That it wont happen again. That it was a spur of the moment thing. But he didn’t know exactly what to say. He knew they didn’t either. What would anyone say at a time such as like that?

“Perhaps.”

It took a while for Harry to think of what to say. He wanted it to be half an apology and half an explanation, but he didn’t think he could explain. He, himself didn’t even know why he did it. Thinking he could go along with the way it went, he spoke.

“I-” he began, but Hermione cut his sentence off.

“Can we be alone with Harry for a little while?” Hermione asked all the adults in the room. “Me and Ron, I mean.” And Harry was thankful that she was trying to imagine how awkward it was for him to have them there.

They gave each other a questioning glance and Mad-Eye nodded and they each departed. Mad-Eye, Tonks then Mr. and Mrs. Weasley.

Once the door was shut, Hermione turned to Harry with an agonized look written on her face.

“Oh, Harry,” she cried and went over to where he was sitting and put her arms around him gently. Not knowing how to react, he rubbed her back a few times and wanted to pull away, but she was still firmly embracing him.

He let her hug him for as long as she liked, and wanted to see what Ron was doing but his face was buried in her bushy hair and all he could see was stringy brown.

It was several moments later when he felt his neck becoming wet and knew it wasn’t because he was sweating.

“Don’t cry, Hermione.” He told her gently and he heard her sniffle.

“I’m so sorry we weren’t there for you,” she said unevenly and slowly let go of him and pulled away. Harry found that he no longer felt the same way as earlier about the situation. They way she said it actually made him believe they were bad friends and he didn’t even bother saying what he wanted to say earlier. Though he knew he was being selfish, he wondered why they hadn’t come to check on him at least once.

“What happened,” Hermione asked after Harry didn’t say anything. He didn’t want to tell her about it. About how Dudley provoked him and how he didn’t even know he had pushed Dudley until he was laying at the bottom step. How he wanted to hang himself at first before he found his aunts anti-depressants. And even about his voice. He knew he would never tell her, or them or anyone else for that matter.

However, right on cue, the nurse from before walked in the room with a new IV. Harry looked at his current one and found it was almost completely empty.

“Do I have to have another one,” Harry asked the nurse as she was taking the old one out. “They make my arm cold.”

“Yes,” she said without looking at him. “You have to.” And she replaced it.

Harry looked at where they inserted the needle. In one of the veins on the front of his hand. Tape held it in place and it was noticeably red. It hurt a little too and when Harry moved the needle around with his finger, he felt it as it moved from side to side.

“Don’t mess with that,” the nurse scolded, and left.

“Can we call the lot in here?” Ron asked Harry after a few minutes.

“I don’t care,” Harry lied and Ron went to go fetch them. Minus Tonks and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Bill, Charlie, Ginny and the twins came in with Mad-Eye.

Harry noticed how the twins smiled at him as if nothing had happened and wished everyone else would act the same way instead of treating him like he was crazy.

“Hey Harry,” Bill greeted and Harry shook hands with him, but with the hand that wasn’t freezing from the IV.

“Hi Bill,” he replied and Harry patiently waited for someone to do something. Mr. Weasley came in the room, that was about it…

“When can I leave from here?” Harry asked either Mad-Eye or Mr. Weasley casually and the two men looked at each other.

“The doctor said that none of his internal organs were affected by the pills,” Mr. Weasley said to Mad-Eye and Harry’s stomach churned.

“Isn’t that what you wanted,” it asked. Harry didn’t reply.

“Then until Dumbledore gives the ok to move him,” Mr. Weasley asked and Mad-Eye nodded.

“Maybe tomorrow,” Mad-Eye told Harry. “The hospital probably wont want to release you for a few weeks, so we’re just going to have to take you. It’s not like they can find us anyway.” And Harry smiled for the first time in a long time. It was almost funny the way Mad-Eye said it.

“But Harry,” Mr. Weasley began. “You should know your relatives said they wouldn’t take you back.”

“I figured,” Harry mumbled.

“So you really aren’t protected at your aunts house anymore-”

“Or anywhere else,” Mad-Eye interrupted. “Dumbledore said you’re going to have to be hidden until what I’m thinking, school starts.”

Harry listened as they told him what he already knew, what he had overheard from earlier. There wasn’t that much conversation after that and Harry was glad they didn’t press the issue of his suicide attempt at all. He hoped that they had just forgotten completely, but knew that was unlikely.

At ten, a nurse came in with a food tray and most of them left except for Ron and Hermione who said they would stay there overnight with him. He was ok with the idea and didn’t object since he really didn’t want to be alone in the hospital room all night.

The meal was surprisingly good, even though Harry had heard from muggles that hospital food was quite disgusting. It was a lot too. There was a small carton of milk, a small carton of apple juice, water, meatloaf, a roll, mashed potatoes, green beans, pudding and a small cold brownie and while he ate Hermione sat by him and read a book while Ron walked around the room and messed with random hospital supplies.

When he got drowsy, he went to the bathroom dragging the monitor that the IV was attached to. He washed his face and when he looked at himself in the mirror, he noticed he was slightly paler.

He was satisfied with the way everything had turned out today. It really wasn’t as bad as he thought it was going to be and he was pleased that he didn’t have to confront any of them, excluding Ron and Hermione, but that was hardly a confrontation at all. He wondered what everyone thought of him now.

Harry peered at his reflection in the mirror for a long time.