Chapter 2 - Becoming mad

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It was not until Harry was four that the neighbours of Mr and Mrs Dursley learned of the existence of another boy in Number 4, Privet Drive.

Well, a few close friends of the Dursley's, parents, who had children at a similar age as Dudley and who had met with the Dursley's for playdates and gossiping about mutual acquaintances, had known that Petunia and Vernon, kind-hearted as they were, had taken in their nephew after his parents had died in a car crash. They had rarely met him, though, being told that the boy was somewhat problematic, even disturbed, and that he didn't react well to exposure to too many people at once.

This was, actually, true.

While Harry could hardly be called „problematic", being quiet and undemanding and almost able to make the Dursley's forget about his presence for days, he was, indeed, withdrawn, shy and he rarely spoke (although this might have something to do with being told to be quiet every time he tried to tell his aunt and uncle something). Sometimes the Dursley's even worried that he was, in fact, „disturbed", but until this incidence that drew the attention of the whole neighbourhood to the boy and his family, they were able to pass any unusual behaviour off as freaky, but not worrisome and usually locking the boy into his cupboard was enough to stop him from doing whatever he did.

This changed, however, one afternoon in November, three years after Harry was left with the Dursley's.

He had been sitting on the floor in the corridor, playing contently with some broken toy soldiers, which he had gotten after Dudley had broken and no longer wanted to have them, and quietly mumbling and murmuring to himself.

This wasn't an unusual occurence, the corridor being one of the few rooms Harry was allowed to stay without supervision and Petunia had long since given up to stop the boy from talking to himself (at least as long as it wasn't to loud any nobody outside the family ever saw him doing it).

Petunia was in the kitchen, preparing dinner, while Dudley stayed with Piers for the afternoon. Mrs Polkiss would bring him back in about half an hour and she wanted to have dinner ready, since her little son was always starved after he played outside all afternoon.

Suddenly, she heard the freaks voice from the corridor, getting louder and louder. Annoyed, she had just decided to let him be (since neither Vernon nor Dudley were present to witness her lenience) and closing the door, when a frightening scream could be heard and a hammering, knocking noise started.

Alarmed at what the boy was doing (he might break something valuable!) she ran into the corridor. It took her a few seconds to take in what she saw there.

Her nephew was sitting on the ground, some of these rubbishy toy soldiers lying nearby, and was beating his head on the floor with seemingly great force. Through the whole incidence, he screamed in a voice that made Petunias blood run cold.

Not really thinking straight, she ran to her nephew and seized him up. The boy tried to fight her, but, being quiet small and thin, it wasn't very difficult for Petunia to carry him into the living room and putting him onto the sofa.

She almost was sick when she saw the damage the boy had done to himself in.

His face was a mess.

Sure, being a parent, Petunia knew that head wounds bled rather heavily, but even considering that this boy was a freak and therefore more durable than an average child (or even her Dudley, who was so sensitive!), she couldn't deny the fact that this child needed a doctor.

And, of course, that this child shouldn't lie on a couch that was only two years old, since the bleeding didn't appear to stop some time soon.

Reluctant to do so, but quite aware that there wasn't much else she could do, she decided to call an ambulance. Vernon would be at work for another one or two hours and she couldn't really wait that long with the boy being in such a state. Besides his obvious injuries, he was still acting as though he was mad (which, Petunia thought, he probably was), although she had to admit, he became quieter by the minute.

Never having called an ambulance before, Petunia wasn't prepared to answer questions about what had happened. And even if she had known, how could she have explained the injuries of the boy without being truthful? If she wasn't, they might suspect SHE had beaten the boy into such a state!

Therefore, she told the lady that her nephew had acting oddly and had hit his head against the floor rather hard, and was now bleeding and crying and somewhat hysteric.

5 minutes later, the ambulance came and it was then that the whole street learned of Harry's existence.

Just a few seconds after the paramedics had halted in front of Number 4 and had entered the house, the first nosy neighbours ran on the street to goggle. It wasn't every day that an ambulance was seen in this part of the town, and when the paramedics reappeared with a small, bloody boy, lying on a stretcher and a sour looking Petunia walking behind them, the entire residents of Privet Drive, and a large amount of the streets nearby, had gathered on the street and saw the small child being taken to hospital.

Petunia had tried to soothe Harry, not wanting to look bad (well, not worse than she would look anyway) in the eyes of the paramedics. When the doorbell rang, she had managed to calm Harry down enough that he wasn't screaming any longer, though now he had started crying (which wasn't very surprising, given the fact that his head must hurt a lot)

She led the paramedics to the living room and anxiously stepped aside when they tried to get the boys attention, asked him what his name was and began to treat him. One of the three men that had come, however, turned to her.

„What has happened?"

„That f... boy... Harry... he was playing just like every day, but then he started to bang his head against the floor! I don't know why, or what has happened before, I was just in the kitchen. He has never acted like this or I wouldn't have left him alone one moment! I don't know... why did he do such a thing to himself?"

„Well ok, I think you should talk to the doctors in hospital about all of this."

„Hospital? Can't you just treat him here?"

„I don't think this would be wise, the child should be monitored for at least 48 hours." The paramedic gave Petunia a strange look

„After all, he might have done some damage to his brain."

„You think he is brain-damaged?" Petunia squeaked

„I don't know... wait... Josh, how is the boy?"

„What? We have to take him to hospital as soon as possible. This head wound is nasty, and he seemed to be dazed, I won't risk him having a brain haemorrhage... Harry? Can you just lie still for a moment? I have to put a needle into your arm so that we can give you something that will made you feel better."

Harry didn't respond, he seemed to be rather sleepy.

„Harry please try to stay awake, this is really important! This will hurt a little bit now, but I promise you will feel better very soon! - Wil, please try to hold his arm still"

Wil, the third paramedic, did as his colleague asked him to and Harry gave hardly any sign that he registered that a needle was put into his vein. This wasn't good. A child that didn't cry and protested when he was pricked wasn't a good sign at all. Worried, Josh injected the boy a pain-reliever and, together with Wil, put him on the stretcher they had brought in.

„Mrs Dursley, please come, we need to go to the hospital quickly" Asked the paramedic who had talked to Petunia before.

„I have to come with the f...the boy?" Petunia asked, distressed.

„My son will be at home any minute, I can't just leave. He will be upset if I'm not here when his friend's mother brings him home!"

„Mrs Dursley, I think one of your neighbours can take care of you son, until you can arrange otherwise, but your nephew needs you now and besides the doctors in hospital need someone who can answer questions about the boy!"

And with that, the paramedic followed his colleagues to the front door, and Petunia had no choice as to do as she was told.

When they arrived at the hospital, Petunia didn't really know what to do. So she decided to wait outside the emergency room, since she could hardly do anything while the freak was treated, could she?

However, after a few minutes a nurse asked her to come inside and whether she didn't want to stay with her son.

„This isn't my son, it's my nephew!" Petunia snapped, rather embarrassed that she was thought to be the mother of such a freaky, mad child.

The nurse gave her a glance. „Well, yes, wouldn't you like to stay with your nephew? I'm sure he is rather distressed being alone and in pain."

„I suppose..." Petunia answered, and was immediately led into the emergency room where she saw Harry lying on an examination table, stripped down to the pants (which Petunia wished weren't quite as dreadful as they looked. But who could have known that they would be seen by other people when she told the boy to put them on this morning!)

„Ah, Mrs Dursley?"

One of the white-dressed people came to her. „We need to x-ray your son" (Petunia just managed to stop herself from snapping again. After all, it wouldn't do to let the people know how she felt about the boy. Well, if she felt something at all), „and then we would like to make a CT, just to be sure that he hasn't done any damage to his brain. You have to sign a form, though."

„Yes, yes!"

„Ok, then perhaps Nurse Anne can give you the forms while Harry is brought to the CT, you can't accompany him I'm afraid but he will be back right away!"

„Ok, so where do I have to sign"

„Right here." This was the nurse who had Petunia forced to enter the room. „And if you don't mind here are some other forms you would need to sign. Has your NEPHEW ever been in this hospital before?"

„No, never" Petunia answered distracted, being busy signing forms.

„Ok than you need to fill out this, too, I'm afraid."

15 minutes later, Petunia had worked her way to an unbelievable amount of forms and just signed the last one when Harry reappeared, still lying on the exam table and being pushed by a doctor.

„Surely it can't be so bad?" Petunia thought, „is just too lazy to walk, the freak!"

„Mrs Dursley, the neurologist isn't quite finished with analyzing the pictures, but we're rather sure that your nephew was extremely lucky and hasn't done any serious harm to his head. Well, apart from the superficial wounds.

However, we would like to keep him under close supervision for at least 48 hours since he is rather dozy and doesn't respond to some stimuli like he should. You can stay with him, of course, there are special rooms on the children ward where an adult can stay overnight with the child."

Petunia, being quite aware that her previous behaviour was, at best, questionable, decided that there really wasn't a choice. Therefore, she let the doctor lead her through some doors until they reached the children ward.

„Helen, we're here!" The doctor called, „which room is the boy's with the head injury?"

„Oh hey" a young blonde woman appeared in a doorway, „just here, come on. I'm nurse Helen, you must be Mrs Dursley! And this is your son? What is his name?"

„Ah, yes, my nephew, actually, and his name is Harry"

„Ok well, I have heard you'll stay with us for the next couple of days? Well, I'm sure you'll be up and about in no time at all!" She spoke to Harry, who, however, gave no sign at having heard her.

The boy had yet to say a word, after he had stopped screaming back at Privet Drive he was alarmingly quiet.

„You're sure he hasn't gotten any serious injuries inside his head?" Nurse Helen asked the doctor, who was leafing through a file, apparently Harry's.

„Hu? Yes, we have made two scans. Both seemed to be normal. However, the neurologist is looking at the pictures just now, but I'm quite sure we haven't overlooked anything. Perhaps he is in shock or just overwrought by anything that has happened. Well, the I suppose I should leave, goodby Mrs Dursley, it was nice to see you, goodby Harry!" He waved and went away.

„Ah, sorry, Nurse Helen, I really have to phone my husband, he doesn't know that something has happened, and my son, he was with a friend when this, eh, accident happened, I have to phone the mother to tell her Vernon, my husband, will collect the Duddy as soon as he comes home from work."

„Sure, there is a phone box just in the entrance hall, I'm sure Harry and I will manage while you're away!"

A few minutes later Petunia was back, having told a rather shocked Vernon what had happened.

Oh, he wasn't shocked that the freak - Harry - had to stay in hospital, but his Petunia apparently had to stay there as well, so who would look after Dudley now?

And, worst of all, the freak seemed to have gotten crazy. He couldn't allow someone who was not only a freak but also mad to stay near his son! Who know what that... unnatural creature might do to poor Dudley!

Petunia had promised to try to contact one of these freaks once she was out of hospital, but for the next several days there didn't seem to be a choice at what to do.

Later, Petunia got permission (honestly, she was an adult who had the misfortune to be related to such a boy, and she had to get permission to leave him for an hour or so, as if he wasn't used to staying alone!) to go home in order to get some things she (or the boy) might need.

The nurses had been surprised that her husband couldn't bring anything to the hospital, but in the end they didn't argue with the woman who was acting rather strange.

Well, perhaps it was just the shock that her nephew had been hurt?

Harry, meanwhile, was confused.

He knew his head hurt quite a lot, bot otherwise he was just fine. Well, apart from that strange voice. It was more a humming now, though. Somewhere in the background, but easily to ignore (at least if you had some experience, and that Harry had). Harry knew that voice, of course, it had been there as long as he could remember, and he had gotten used to the presence of someone else in his mind. At some point he had become aware that apparently nobody else could hear the voice, so it couldn't be another human like Aunt Petunia or Dudley, Harry supposed. But perhaps there weren't enough bodies so that some people had to share one? However, he had long since stopped worrying about it and sometimes he was even grateful for its presence. It would have been rather lonely in his cupboard if the voice hadn't been there. He had gone into the habit of talking with the voice, even when it sometimes told Harry strange stuff, like killing people.

It had never before been this loud and violent as earlier today, though. It had been rather distracting, particularly when some men had poked and pricked him and tried to speak to him. He had been somewhat aware that he should probably answer them, but this noise in his head was just too loud and he hadn't been able to fight it off. Well, they had left him alone after some time, so perhaps he hadn't done anything wrong. After all, if he didn't obey Aunt Petunia or Uncle Vernon, they never left him be but demanded that he did as he was told, no matter whether voluntarily or not (Harry had learned, however, that it was better to do things the first time they asked, since it was the only way to avoid having to go hungry for the day)

Now, he was apparently lying in a soft, clean bed and there were a lot of people dressed in white clothes who seemed to be rather nice. They certainly smiled a lot.

Perhaps he was dead and this were angels?

He didn't know much about angels, but he had heard that they were supposed to be nice and all. So surely he must be dead, normal people just couldn't be that friendly.

This thought, both frightening and comforting at the same time, however, was banished when Aunt Petunia appeared at the side of one of these angels.

Or was she dead, too?

He hoped not, since Uncle Vernon would be really, REALLY mad if he had killed his aunt. And an annoyed Vernon normally hurt a lot.

For Harry, the next two days where a bliss. He got to lie in a soft, clean bed the whole day, he got to eat three times every day and all the nurses (he had learned they were nurses, no angels, rather soon after Aunt Petunia had appeared) were very, very nice. They spoke to him without snapping, they called him „Harry", which had been a very rare occurence when he had lived with only the Dursley's, and they asked him whether he wanted some toys, crayons or watching TV.

He had been unsure whether he was allowed to do so, since normally, only Dudley was permitted to watch TV. However, Dudley wasn't here, and after he had declined the first few offers (after a look to Aunt Petunia), his Aunt had hissed at him (when there wasn't a nurse in the vicinity) that he was to act like a normal boy and to do what the nurses asked him. From then on, he had accepted the offers, although he still was worried what might happen when the nurses found out that he wasn't a normal boy, but a freak, and therefore not supposed to watch TV or to colour.

A doctor came to him a few times each day, asked him how his head was and whether or not he felt dizzy. A few times he had spoken to Aunt Petunia, too, but they had both gone out of the room and therefore Harry didn't know whether he had done anything wrong. His aunt looked rather angry after some of these talks, but she never told him what was going on. She never slapped him, either, so it couldn't be so bad, Harry supposed.

Petunia had two horrible days.

After she had returned from collecting some clothes, she had to stay with the freak ALL the time. Well, she supposed that the hospital staff couldn't really force her to stay, but she had noticed that all the other children on this ward were accompanied by at least one adult all the time. It would look quite bad if she didn't stay with the boy, and she didn't want to risk that the nurses or doctors started to suspect that something was wrong with the boys family. (Of course there was not, it was the boy who was wrong, but these idiots working in this hospital seemed unable to see that)

The doctor who was in charge of Harry had wanted to speak to her a few times, and this talks hadn't been pleasant, either. She could convince him that Harry had in fact hurt himself, well, there hadn't really been any doubt, but, as the doctor pointed out (several times), they just had to make sure that the little chappie had a decent home life and was well-cared for. Petunia, being well aware of some of the recent news about a child who had been abused and the doctor who had treated it several times not doing anything about it (and who was currently being tried for aiding the abuse), assured the doctor that she wasn't offended at all, on the contrary, that she was grateful that this hospital was apparently taking the welfare of children serious (which was, in fact, a good thing to know, if her Dudley should at some point being hurt by the freak) and that she would have done anything to prevent little Harry from hurting himself at all.

The doctor, impressed by Aunt Petunias sincere claims and her obvious love for the little boy, recommended to see a psychiatrist or at least a children therapist, since it wasn't normal for a child to hurt himself this severe. While the doctor knew that there were many children who tended to pull their hair or chew on their nails, he had never had a case of self injury this sever and at such a young age. Surely something most be wrong with the boy to act in such a manner.

Petunia agreed, hesitantly, but who could blame her for this, there were hardly any parents who reacted well to their child having a mental disorder. The doctor, glad to be able to do something to help this nice woman, talked to his colleague on the psychiatric ward for children, which was, conveniently, in the same hospital, and so it was that, three days after the „incident"and at the same day as Harry was released, Petunia had to bring Harry to the psychiatrist Dr Green.

She was rather annoyed when, instead of just being told when she could collect the boy, she was asked to enter the room as well. She just hoped that nobody of the neighbours had seen her enter THIS ward!

Although, she admitted to herself, it was quite likely that all her neighbours were aware that something has happened to the boy, having seen the ambulance and the paramedics. And, to be honest, it was much better to be known as a caring relative of a mentally disturbed boy than to be known as an abuser (which she wasn't, of course! It was only natural to treat you nephew differently than you own son, and since this was a freak-nephew he NEEDED special treatment if he wanted to become normal, one day! Yes, she was doing a good deed!)

After being offered a cup of tea and a few awkward moments of silence, the interrogation (or this what Petunia would later call an interrogation at least), began.

How long had Harry been with her? What happened to his parents? Was he injured in the car crash as well, a head injury perhaps? Had he needed psychological help after that tragedy? How got he along with his cousin? Did Harry know that he wasn't the child but the nephew of Petunia? How got he along with Vernon? How had the relationship between Petunia and Harry's mother been? How had the relationship of the two of them to their own parents had been? When did he start to walk? Until which age had he worn nappies?

And it went on and on. Petunia hadn't been aware that there were so many possibilities why a child could become mad. However, it seemed that she was able to answer all the questions to the psychiatrist satisfaction and it only became uncomfortable when the doctor asked whether Harry had acted this way for the first time or if there had been other incidents when he had injured himself, or if he had ever shown any kind of unusual behaviour before.

„Well, I suppose, yes...yes, he had acted strange, sometimes. Compared to Dudley, at least..."

„What do you mean? What has he done?"

„Well, he tends... he tends to talk to himself quite a lot. I mean, I never thought anything about it, since many little children talk to cuddly toys or imaginary friends or something like this, but perhaps... well, I don't know, but perhaps it has something to do with him banging his head like this..." She looked to Harry who was happily playing with some blocks in a corner of the room.

„Yes, you are quite right, it isn't uncommon for young children to talk to no one in particular, but of course, in Harry's case it could be a further sign for a severe mental illness... Anything more? Hm, did he ever seemed to zoom out? Perhaps just sitting at a place without doing anything and giving no sign of reaction to anybody else?"

„Yes! He does that a lot! I wasn't aware that it was relevant, I just assumed he was kind of daydreaming so..."

„Well, its a behaviour many children show, however, it can be a symptom of some mental illnesses, too."

„Oh, right... then... then you think he... Harry... is ill? I mean, mentally?"

„Well, it's difficult to tell at such a young age, it could just be a a result to the traumatic event when he lost his parents... yes, Dr Smith told me about it, I'm really sorry! So, his behaviour doesn't necessarily mean that he is mentally ill, perhaps it was a one-time occurence and the other stuff, like talking to imaginary friends, will go away on its own. However, since this act of self injury was rather violent and could easily lead to serious harm if ever being repeated, I would recommend that Harry seeing me once a month, for the time being. So I will be able to observe him and check him for any signs that his mental state is getting worse, and we can hopefully prevent another such an incident Would that be all right with you? Of course, I need you or your husband coming with him, after all, Harry is only a little child and I won't be able to work with him alone, without the support of his guardians."

„Oh, ehm yes, I need to talk this through with my husband, but since it would be in, eh, Harry's best interest I don't think he'll have anything against this course of actions. Perhaps I could phone you next week?"

„Of course, of course, there isn't any hurry, just phone me when you have talked to your husband and then we can make another appointment!"

Petunia was very glad to be back home. She had missed her little Duddybums a lot and it had been quite strenuous to keep herself from snapping at the boy or just tell the doctors and nurses that she didn't care whether or not the boy was healthy and that she wanted him to be released immediately.

Being aware that it was only due to the fact that she had cooperated with the doctors that they hadn't talked to anyone from child service, though, and also because Petunia and Vernon feared what a mad freak might do to their little Dudley (or their reputation amongst the neighbours), Petunia kept her promise and phoned Dr Green the following week. They agreed that Petunia (Vernon had to work, of course!) would come with Harry to Dr Green every first Thursday each month and that any unusual behaviour from Harry would be reported to the doctor in order to find out whether or not Harry needed more support or medical aid.

Harry, meanwhile, was somewhat disappointed to be back in his cupboard, but at least he had been allowed to keep the stuffed teddy his aunt had given him while he was in hospital. He wasn't entirely sure why he suddenly was allowed such a thing (normally, only Dudley got cuddly toys and his aunt and uncle had told him more than once that only good boys were allowed toys), but he was grateful nevertheless and just hoped his aunt wouldn't demand it back. Perhaps if he hid it into his cupboard she wouldn't remember having it given to him...?

After he had accompanied Aunt Petunia to a man to whom she talked while he was allowed to play with the most amazing toys, she had hardly said something to him at all. He was a little worried what he might have done wrong, but figured that asking would be a very, very bad idea. He wasn't stupid, after all, and he had learnt that he wasn't supposed to ask questions long before he could even speak properly.

After a few days, life was almost be back to normal. Harry was tormented by Dudley, his aunt snapped at him and his uncle, while mostly ignoring him (and giving him strange glances all of the time, which Harry found rather odd), slapped him several times for being a freak. Harry didn't really know what a freak was but it wasn't pleasant to be one. But, he supposed, it was just like being a fly. A fly couldn't help being one, it just had to put up with it and try to avoid being swatted if it wanted to survive. So Harry just had to duck every time he could and being as invisible as possible and there wouldn't be a problem, would there?

Therefore, Harry was very surprised when, much later, his aunt told him that they were to go to that man they had visited after Harry had to stay in the hospital. Since Petunia looked as if she really, really didn't want to go, he was a little afraid that she might punish him for it, but she didn't do anything.

Being there, Harry was allowed to play AGAIN and only just before he left with his aunt the man asked him how he was and whether or not he had hurt himself again. After a questioning glance to his aunt, Harry told the man that he was fine and that he didn't like being hurt. The grip of his aunt tightened while he said so, though, and he decided that it would be a good thing not to say anything more.

The man asked why, if he didn't like being hurt, he had hurt himself the other week. But even if Harry hadn't decided to stay quiet, he would not have been able to answer that question. What was this man talking about? Perhaps he was somehow confused? This would explain why his aunt didn't seem to like him very much, Harry was quite aware that any kind of person who didn't behave as he should was some kind of monster in the eyes of his relatives.

After Harry and his aunt had visited the strange man several times more, Harry became accustomed to it. After all, it wasn't that bad, he got to play a lot and even when the man would ask him some weird questions, he was usually able to tell him something he seemed to like, since he tended to smile when Harry had said something. Of course, sometimes he looked worried too, for example when Harry had asked him whether every person had his own body, or when Harry talked with the voice in his head while being at the man. He had been distracted and forgotten that the man was even there, and he had begged the voice to be silent when it had been quite vicious and hurting, and unfortunately the doctor must have hurt him. At first Harry had worried that the man would now realize that he, Harry, was a freak, but his behaviour never changed and he was as nice and kind as ever.