.

Captive

."LET ME GO !"

"Harry, you have to calm down!"

"NOOOOOO! LET ME GO! I DON'T WANT TO! LET! ME! GO!

"Harry we can't let you go, please, try to calm down, be a good boy, you have to relax, everything will be fine, but you have to calm down!"

"NOOOO! TAKE THE STRAPS OFF! I DON'T WANT IT! TAKE IT OFF AND LET ME GO! I CAN'T MOVE, YOU CAN'T TIE ME UP!"

"Harry, no. The restraints will stay were they are for now, and if you don't calm down they won't be taken up for a very long time! There is no need to shout! You knew that you would get the restraints if you continue to hit your head against the wall!"

"PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE! I DIDN'T MEAN TO! AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHRRR! TAKE IT OFF! I'LL KILL YOU I SWEAR!"

"Bob, please go and fetch Dr Green, I think Harry need something to calm down."

"NOOOOOO YOU CAN'T KNOCK ME OUT WITH YOUR STUPID MEDICIN!"

"Harry you have had plenty of opportunities to calm down on your own, but..."

"HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO CALM DOWN WHEN YOU TIE ME UP?!"

"You know how it works Harry. If you hurt yourself, you get the limb restraints and they will stay put until you have calmed down and we can be sure that you don't hurt yourself again!

Bob! Please hurry!"

"OK Maggie thank you - Harry, I'm going to inject you some medicine that will help you to calm down, ok?"

"NOOOOO! I DON'T WANT TO! I HATE THIS!"

"I know Harry but since you refuse to calm down voluntarily there is nothing else we can do. You will feel better very soon, I promise. Maggie, please keep his leg still"

"NOOOO! I DON'T WANT 'JECTION! OOOOOWWWW"

"OK Harry, all done. You are going to be asleep very soon and you'll see, when you wake up, everything will be much better!"

"NO NO NO NO NO... don't want to... please... no no..."

"OK... Maggie, you can cover him up. He should be asleep for at least 5 till 6 hours. Make sure someone keeps an eye on him the whole time anyway, we can't risk him waking up before then, like the other time. Don't know why he reacts so unpredictable to all the medicine."

"Sure thing, doc. Shall we call you when he wakes up or shall we just give him his normal medication?"

"You can give him his normal stuff. However, I'm going to meet Dr Andrews this afternoon, I think we have to try some heavier antipsychotics. He seems to be not affected at all by Phenergan and Cloxan..."

"What are you going to try?"

"Well, Dr Andrews suggested to try Haldol. I'm not sure so... he's only 9, and Haldol is pretty hard stuff. However, since he doesn't seem to react to any medication the usual way... I mean, most children his age and weight would be comatose by the doses he gets... well, we'll see. If it helps him... Ok, I'm in the office, if something happens just call me"

###

It was Harry's second week on the closed psychiatric ward for children and adolescent, and his third week in hospital after the nearly fatal incident. He didn't know that, however, since he had been drugged most of the time.

In contrast to the doctors beliefs, he hadn't been calm the second time he woke up on the intensive care unit, although the bandages that had covered his eyes had been removed and he was able to see his surroundings. The restraints on his arms hadn't been removed so, and after Harry had almost manage to hurl himself out of his bed his legs had to be put in restraints, too. The doctors had been rather alarmed by his unwillingness or inability to calm down, even so his head must have hurt terrible through all the racket he made. They couldn't risk that he aggravated his injuries further and therefore he had spend much of his time on the ICU heavily sedated.

On his third day in hospital, Dr Green had come to visit him (he had been awake and pretty calm, at least in comparison to the days before). He had asked Harry how he was feeling and why he had hurt himself, but Harry had refused to talk. Dr. Green had told him that when he was better, he would be moved to another ward, the ward where Dr Green worked, but Harry hadn't given any sign that he had heard the man.

The psychiatrist, being used to children who refused to speak or didn't do as they were asked at all, had come to visit Harry every afternoon, though, and during his fourth visit, Harry had decided to tell Dr Green that he was feeling fine (which Dr Green hadn't believed, but the doctors from the ICU had later confirmed that Harry's injuries were healing at an alarmingly pace, that they couldn't explain how it was possible for someone who had been hurt this badly to be almost healthy in less than a week) and that he didn't know why someone had smashed his head against the wall. Whether he wasn't reminiscent of anything at all, Dr Green had asked, and Harry had admitted that he remembered someone screaming and that he hadn't been able to breathe properly, but then the next thing he knew was that he was tied up to a bet and couldn't see anything at all.

Dr Green had tried to explain to Harry that he was restrained because they were all afraid that he might hurt himself again. Harry had looked at the doctor as if he was mad. Why should he hurt himself? He had never hurt himself! Someone else had hurt him! And being tied up only meant that he couldn't protect himself when the one who had hurt him came back to do it again!

Two days later, Harry was moved to the psychiatric ward, though he still had to stay in bed for at least a week. His medication had been increased shortly after he had woken up the second time, but it didn't seem to make any difference. Well, the doctors didn't notice any difference. Harry, however, felt awful. His head felt all fuzzy, numb and agitated at the same time and his arms and legs had started to twitch on their own accord. He didn't like it.

He had refused the medicine after a few days, but Dr Green had come and told him that if he wouldn't swallow the antipsychotics voluntarily, he would get them forcefully. The nurses had shown him what the doctor meant a short while later. While one was holding his head and pinched his nose closed (he had been tied up, again, so he couldn't even fight, so he tried nevertheless) the other one was standing next to him, the disgusting medicine in a little cup. After almost a minute, Harry had been forced to open the mouth in order to breath, and the nurse had taken advantage of it and force-fed him the medicine.

After Harry had gotten his medicine this way for another few times, he had stopped fighting and swallowed it without protest. He didn't have a choice, did he?

When Harry woke up he felt awful. Well, he had felt awful pretty much the whole time during the last few weeks, but now it was particularly bad. He needed a few second to realise that he wasn't in his cupboard but in the monitoring room of the closed ward and that he was still in restraints.

"You're awake?" Harry startled. He hadn't realized there was someone else in the room. He shouldn't have been surprised, though, they hardly ever left him in peace these days. "Yecch..chch..hhhhrrrr" Harry tried to answer, but his throat was extremely dry and he only managed a hoarse cough.

"Oh dear, do you want something to drink? Wait a moment -" the nurse opened the door but didn't leave the room. „Andy? Can you bring us some water in a feeding cup please?"

"Of course, just wait a minute" came the reply from somewhere outside the small room.

Harry was rather curious where he was, he hadn't left this room since they had brought him here, but he couldn't very well just going out, being tied up as he was.

Even when he hadn't been in restraints, he hadn't left the room. Somehow, the nurses and the doctor didn't want him to. He didn't understand it, though. Was this some kind of prison?

There was even a small bathroom attached to the room. At first, Harry had been grateful that there was a bathroom with a door and that he didn't have to use the bedpan any more. It had been mortifying! But his hopes that he would have a little more privacy now had soon be shattered.

"I need the loo!"

"Ok dear, do you want the bedpan or do you want to try to get up and going to the toilet? You don't need to worry, it's just here, you don't have to walk far!"

"Toilet!"

"Ok, I'll just call one of the male nurses, I'm sure you'll be more comfortable with a bloke." The nurse, a female had winked at him. Harry didn't understand, though. Why did it matter whether there was a male or a female nurse? He wasn't a baby, he could stay in his room without an adult watching him all the time. They didn't seem to believe him, though, and one of the nurses had stayed with him all the time since he had brought into this room.

"Hy Harry, I'm Alex. You want the loo?"

"Er, yes."

"Ok, come on. Be careful though, you're still weak and the medicine might make you feel a little bit dizzy."

"I'm fine." Well, that wasn't completely true, but he was fine enough to walk to the bathroom on his own!

"All right, lad, then let's go!" And Alex took is shoulder and slowly walked him to the bathroom. Harry had to admit, he did feel a little bit weak. His legs trembled slightly and he was very grateful that he didn't have to go far. With Alex help, he walked into the bathroom and tried to turn around to shut the door. Alex, however, didn't retreat like Harry had expected he would.

"Er, I just shut the door, all right"

"We can shut the door, Harry, but I'm going to stay inside the bathroom."

"What?! You can't do that, I need to use the loo!"

"I know, but you aren't to be alone."

"But you can wait outside, not in the bathroom!"

"No, Harry, I'm staying inside. The doctors have decided that you are not to be alone and this includes going to the bathroom. If you want to, you can shut your eyes or humming and just pretend I'm not there."

„But I can't go... I can't use the toilett when someone is watching me! Why can't you just leave me alone, it will only take a minute!"

„There is no use arguing, Harry, I'm going to stay here and nothing you say can change that. But I promise, I won't look at you directly and as I have said, just pretend I'm not here."

"NOOO! YOU CAN'T DO THIS!"

"Yes Harry we can. And even screaming won't change that. If you are more comfortable, you can use the bedpan, but someone will stay with you ALL the time."

"NOOO! YOUR BASTARD! YOU CAN'T MAKE ME GOING TO THE LOO WITH SOMEONE WATCHING!"

"Harry, do you want to use the loo now or not? I will not leave the room and it's your choice whether or not you take care of your business, but if you don't want to, than you can go back into you bed an I'm calling nurse Anne since she is in charge for you this afternoon. So, what do you want?"

"I won't go to the loo with someone watching me!"

"Ok, then come on." And Alex opened the bathroom door and led him back to his bed. Harry was too flabbergasted to trying to resist. Did they honestly believe that he would use the loo with someone watching him all the time? That was worse than it had been at the ward he had stayed before, at least he had allowed to have some privacy while using the bedpan! But even if he choose the bedpan now he wouldn't be unsupervised Alex had said. Were they mad? What was he supposed to do, stop drinking and eating?

When Harry was back in his bed and the nurse had resumed sitting next to him, reading a newspaper, he wasn't sure what he should do now. He really needed the loo, but apparently he was not going to be left on his own any time soon. He settled for holding it back, for now. Perhaps they would change their mind?

Half an hour later, however, Harry was desperate. If he couldn't release himself any time soon he would wet his bed, and surely this was even more embarrassing then going to the loo in front of someone else, wasn't it? Especially since he wouldn't even be alone while wetting the bed...

"Uhm, I REALLY need the loo... but you don't need to call the man. I'm fine on my own!"

"I'm sure you would, but there is no way you are staying without supervision, even if it is only for a minute. Just wait a second -" she walked to the door, „Alex? Can you come back?"

"Of course dear" Harry wiggled and wasn't sure he would manage to hold it back any longer, but fortunately Alex came right away - somehow, they seemed to have expected that he wouldn't make it long, Harry thought much later - and walked Harry to the bathroom for the second time.

"Please..?"

"No Harry, I'm sorry."

"You bastard!"

"Just do your business, Harry." And what else could he do? Harry tried very hard to pretend that it wasn't happening, that he was back at the Dursley's and nobody would look at him while he peed, but it didn't work. Alex didn't look at him directly, but he never looked away either.

What's wrong with these people? Harry thought. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon have never did this, even when I was little!

He was glad when he had finished, but still felt alternatively ashamed, angry and rather humiliated.

"Em, can I go on my own next time?"

"No, lad, not until the doctors say that you can, and I don't think this will happen very soon."

„But this is stupid!"

"Harry, one and a half week ago you almost killed yourself, we won't allow you to do something like this again. And if it means that you can't be left alone and have to be accompanied when using the loo, then I'm rather sorry but there is nothing that can be done about it."

"I HATE YOU!"

###

But nothing Harry had said had made them reconsider, and after one and a half week constant supervision he started to become accustomed to it. It was still degrading, humiliating, but somewhere during the last few days Harry had stopped fighting and started to endure it without protest. It wasn't as if anything he had said had made a difference anyway. So what was the point in fighting?

Therefore, he didn't even try to protest that he could do it himself when only his arms were freed but just accepted the feeding cup him being given by the nurse.

There really wasn't much dignity left to loose.

For a short while, it looked as if Harry got better and additional medication wouldn't be needed. He was even allowed to leave his room a few times, although he was still constantly accompanied by a nurse. Then, however, while Harry was sitting on the table in his room, reading a book, it happened again.

Harry had been restless all day, and the nurses had therefore already been on their guard. Just like every other day, Harry was under constant supervision but when he jumped up and ran head-first against the wall, even Nurse Alex who had been sitting on the other side of the room, just 10 feet away from the boy, couldn't do anything to stop him.

"HARRY NO!"

Pressing the alarm-button, Alex leaped from the stool he had been sitting on, sprinted to the boy and was able to grab him before he could smash his head against the wall for the second time. The damage was already done, though, Alex noticed, when he felt a sticky substance on the boys forehead.

Harry, who had been feeling terrible all day, would never quite know what had happened, but suddenly there was something - someone - some kind of force which smashed his head against the wall with such might that he thought he would pass out. And it hurt!

Dimly, he heard someone screaming and then there was a loud, wailing noise. The next he knew was that someone - or was it the same force that had smashed him against the wall? Would it attack again? - was grabbing him, seizing his body away from the wall and pressing him to what seemed to be a body of another person. Suddenly there came more and more people running, grabbing him, holding him, shouting and screaming and yelling things Harry didn't understand - what were they doing? Were they trying to kill him? But weren't this nurses and doctors? Weren't they supposed to help him, not hurting him? But they DID hurt him! Now they were taking hold of his legs, too, even to he had started to fight and screamed that they should let him go. He didn't want to die! But they weren't listening, there were too many of them, they were just carrying him away, and now they were pressing him down onto a bed - what were they doing? - there was a man almost lying on him and several other people had taken hold of his arms and legs and then there came even more people who brought straps - no no no they should stop! - and they were tying him up, again - he couldn't move - no! This wasn't happening, this couldn't happening! No! Stop!

"ALEX, WHAT HAPPEND?"

"DON'T KNOW - JUST THREW HIMSELF AGAINST THE WALL - HELP ME TO KEEP HOLD ON HIM HE WON'T STOP FIGHTING - HARRY STOPP!"

"NOOOOOOOOOOOO LE ME GOOOOOOOOO LE MEEE GOO NOOOOO AAAWWWWW"

"HARRY QUIT FIGHTING! - HERE, I GOT HIS ARM - MELLY?"

"I HAVE HIM, YOU LET GO AND GRAB HIS LEGS! - OUCH! HURRY, AL, HE WON'T STOP KICKING!"

"STOOOOOOOOOOOPPP NOOO AAAWWW OOOUCH - NO!"

"WHERE IS GREEN?"

"HE'S FETCHING THE SEDATIVE - NOW, WE HAVE TO GET HIM ONTO THE BED - MARC? DO YOU HAVE THE STRAPS?"

"OK YES, HOLD HIM DOWN! - HARRY STOPP!"

"OOOUUUU HURT! NOOO AAAAWWWWW HATE YOU STOP NO NO NO!"

"OK, ALEX YOU PRESS HIS BODY DOWN, MELLY, JO, YOU HOLD HIS LEGS STILL - DR GREEN?"

"YES ALL RIGHT, FIRST THE STRAPS, THEN THE SEDATIVE - HARRY? HARRY!?"

"NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NOOOOOOOOO"

"JUST KEEP HIS ARM DOWN! - I HAVE THE STRAPS - STOP FIGHTING BOY!"

"OK, LEGS ARE RESTRAINED - SUE? HAVE YOU HIS ARMS?"

"STOPP STOPP STOPP STOPP NOOOO LE ME GOOOOOOOOO!"

"YES ALL RIGHT, ARMS ARE FIXED - MIDRIFF?"

"FIXED - ALL RIGHT."

"OK, JUST KEEP HIS HIPS STILL I GIVE HIM THE SEDATIVE -"

"AWWWWWWW - OUCH! STOP!"

"OK ALL RIGHT - you can led him go"

"Everything all right?"

"Yes, sedative should start working soon-"

"NO NO NO NO NOOOOOOO! LE MEEEEE GOOO!"

"Ok... I suppose this was it, then - Doc, you have to take a look at his forehead, don't know how much damage he's done..."

"NO NO... NO... noo... nooo... leme... no.."

"Ok he is out - all right everyone, you can go.. Sue, thanks for helping, just tell the others everything is under control now - I'll join the meeting as soon as I have made sure he hasn't done anything serious to his head. Alex, are you hurt?"

"No, everything fine - just... well, I didn't thought he would fight this hard. Such strength in such a little body - almost superhuman..."

Two days after this latest stunt, doctor Green and another doctor Harry had never seen before informed him that from now on he was to take different medicine. Harry had argued that he didn't need medicine at all, but the doctors hadn't seemed to listen to him. Even worse, he wasn't allowed to just swallow the new medicine but he got injections every week. At least when he had been able to take the stuff orally, he had been able to spill or spit at least something of it. Maybe, though, this was the reason they had decided to give him injections?

The weeks that followed the doctors announcement were a blur. Harry wasn't even aware about the time that passed, and even later he could never quite believe that it had been almost two month before he regained a sense of time and of his surroundings.

Dr Green and Dr Andrew, the head of the psychiatric ward, had decided that something had to be done about Harry. The boy was restrained most of the time, and he couldn't be left without supervision without risking that he hurt himself. And worse, he didn't even acknowledge that he hurt himself but continued to claim that someone else was doing it.

Harry seemed well and truly psychotic. And since the medication he got didn't seem to help at all, there wasn't really any room for discussion when they decided to dose him with Haldol, one of the strongest antipsychotics existing. Nevertheless, it wasn't a decision either of them was happy with. Harry had already experienced side effects from the medicine he took now. Not only would a heavier antipsychotic be even more likely to cause severe side effects, but it might even affect the boy's brain over the long haul. There weren't many experiences regarding the effect of anitpsychotics to children, and even less which concerned the stronger ones. However, if they wouldn't treat Harry, he would either kill himself some time soon, even if it were by accident, or he would spend the rest of his life physical restraint.

They had talked with Petunia Dursley, they couldn't very well treat the boy without her consent, and she had agreed. The woman seemed to be rather desperate, and having seen her nephew tied to the bed and heavily sedated (since she had visited shortly after Harry had another episode, but had insisted on seen him although the doctors had tried to tell her what to expect) this was quite understandable. For a caring relative, it was always worst, seeing a beloved person, bounded to a bed like a dangerous animal. She had agreed that Harry should get the chance to get healthy again, though, even if it meant that he had to put up with rather disagreeable side effects and unknown long-term effects.

The first injection hadn't been pleasant, neither for Harry nor for the doctors or the nurses that had to hold him down. The boy was fighting with all his might, but of course, a 9 year old who barely weighed 24 kg hadn't a chance against 4 adults.

"KEEP HIS HIP STILL!"

"HARRY STOP FIGHTING! YOU WILL GET THE INJECTION NO MATTER HOW HARD YOU FIGHT AGAINST IT!"

"NOOOOOO! YOU CAN'T DO THAT! YOU CAN'T GIVE ME YOUR STUPID STUFF! I DON'T WANT TO! LEAVE ME ALONE LET ME GOOOO!"

"HARRY! FOR GODS SACKE... ALEX? HAVE YOU GOT HIS OTHER LEG?"

"YES EVERYTHING UNDER CONTROLL... Harry, lad, calm down!"

"NOOOOOOOOOO! YOU'RE FUCKING BASTARDS!"

"OK, please hold him still now, I'm going to set the injection. Harry, it will hurt a bit, I'm sorry, but it has to be done!"

"NOOOO- AUUUWW STOP IT!"

"It's all right, it's almost done. Just a few moments - ok, you can let him go."

Harry had, of course, be restrained while receiving the injection. This hadn't stopped him from fighting, so, there was no way the restraints could be set that tight without harming the boy. It might be terrifying for a child when adults were holding it down by force, but they were only doing it because it was in the boy's best interest, wasn't it?

The application of the following injections hadn't be a problem, though. The boy barely noticed that someone was holding him and didn't even attempt to fight.

It was frightening seeing a child under the effects of high doses of antipsychotics. Even for the psychiatrists who were used to seeing children with peculiar behaviour, strange quirks, or even mentally disabled ones, it wasn't pleasant.

Harry didn't seem to be aware of his surroundings. He had to be spoon-fed the first few days, so it got a bit better after the then and he was able to feed himself, at least when he was told to do so. The nurses walked him on the toilet several times a day because the boy had stopped to indicate when he needed to go. They weren't sure whether he couldn't articulate himself or if he wasn't aware of natural necessities, but at least he appeared to be able to follow instructions.

After a few weeks, Harry seemed to get better. He was well-behaved, did as he was told and hadn't made an attempt to hurt himself for several weeks. Therefore, the boy was allowed to leave the monitoring-room and join the other kids for meals and free-time activities like playing board games or watching TV. However, while some of the other children were allowed to leave the ward for a few hours each day, Harry had to stay inside.
When he finally regained some sense of himself and his surroundings, he tried to leave the ward a few times each day, however, the door was locked an his attempts futile. It wasn't unusual for a child that had to stay on a closed ward to try to run away. Harry, however, was different. He seemed desperate to get out, but at the same time not really aware that he was locked in or why he was locked in in the first place. Normally, the children threw a few tantrums when they discovered that they couldn't leave, but calmed down after a few days or perhaps a week. Harry just continued roaming the ward, searching for an exit while murmuring to himself. When he became more and more restless and even refused to stay in bed instead searching for an escape route, he got more medicine. Not that he was aware of it, but it helped a bit, and the constant pacing stopped.

###

Harry himself was confused. He didn't really know where he was or what was going on. At first he had thought that he was in a hospital, but there weren't any doctors or nurses. He knew that doctors and nurses wore white clothes, but all the adults (there were flocks of adult!) wore normal clothes. He remembered being in a hospital before, but apparently he was somewhere else now. He tried to discover were he was and what he should do, but there seemed to be no exit. And nobody explained to him what he should do. Oh, they gave him food three times each day and he was allowed to wander down the halls and entering rooms at random, but this just confused him more. Apparently, he wasn't with Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon any more, since they would have never allowed him to walk into rooms and down the halls as he did it now. But he thought he had seen Aunt Petunia a few times. But this couldn't be, could it?

There was a man who wanted to talk to him every time Harry saw him. The man was somehow familiar, but Harry couldn't place him. He used to bringing him into a room where he was to sit on a comfortable chair and then he would ask strange questions. It was very difficult to listen to him, because Harry felt rather fuzzy and tired and the voice in his head had started to get louder again. It had been really quiet inside his head recently, Harry thought. It had both been pleasant and disturbing. Pleasant because it was much easier to go to sleep and to focus on important stuff like finding an exit from this funny place. Disturbing because Harry wasn't used to it being so quiet. There had always been this voice, as long as he could remember. Perhaps the voice was mad at him? Sometimes, when his relatives were really mad at him, they didn't talk to him either.

He had told the man who asked questions that he ought to speak louder because the other man kept interrupting him, but the doctor didn't seem to understand. He just looked worried at Harry and asked more questions.

As time went by, however, Harry learned that he was indeed in a hospital, although in a peculiar one since he wasn't allowed to stay in bed the whole day and nobody wore white clothes. But perhaps the TV was wrong about this? He also got to know some of the other children who were staying in this hospital, though Harry thought they were rather strange.
There was a girl who was so thin that Harry had started to offer her his pudding. The girl refused, though, and even became rather angry when one of the nurses told her to eat her own pudding. Harry didn't understand why, surely eating pudding wasn't a bad thing, wasn't it (well, as long as you weren't with Uncle Vernon or Dudley, then it could easily lead to some slaps if you even considered eating pudding!). A boy who were around Harry's age just wouldn't stop talking and running through the corridors and around the table in the room he and the other kids stayed most of the day. Harry thought it was rather exhausting just looking at him, and he wondered why the doctors or nurses wouldn't let the boy go outside if he wanted to run and play. (He had even asked one of the nurses, but hadn't received a real reply, just a smile and being told not to worry.)

One day, Harry got quiet a fright. He was just coming back from the loo (he had been allowed to go on his own for the last few weeks, so he hardly registered the difference any more) when he heard yelling and screaming, and suddenly many adults appeared and ran trough the corridor towards a room at the end of the hall. He pressed himself against the wall, worried that all the people might just knock him over. Just as Harry decided it was safe to continue his way to the day room, people came back out of the room, several of them carrying a girl that has blood all over her arms and face and even clothes! He stared at the girl in shock, and only when the girl together with some of the adults had vanished behind another door he came out of his stupor. The poor girl, someone must have hurt her very bad! But since they already were in a hospital, the doctors were bound to fix her!

###

It was November when Harry was released from hospital.

Dr Green hadn't be sure and had talked with Petunia Dursley, Dr Andrews, the nurses that cared for Harry most of the time and even some social workers several times. Although the boy had got better over the last few month, he was far from healthy. He continued to hear voices. Or at least one voice, since Harry refered to it as „him" rather then „they". He had, however, stopped hurting himself, and this was quite a progress considering the fact that he had done so almost every week before he had admitted to hospital. The medication (Harry got two different antipsychotics now, and another drug to counter side effects of the first two) seemed to help, finally. Harry was much quieter and not longer this restless. He hadn't had to be restrained for over three month now.

The social worker had proposed to send Harry to a facility that cared for children who were mentally ill, but Petunia Dursley had been rather adamant that the boy returned home. Dr Green was pleasantly surprised by that, it wasn't very common that families of children who had similar problems like Harry were prepared to care for the child themselves instead of sending it to a long-term institution. Harry had to be supervised even when he was released from hospital, he had to take medicine three times a day and additionally had to visit Dr Green every week to get his injections and to allow the doctor to make sure that he didn't suffer a relapse.

The doctor had even talked to the primary school Harry had attended before his stay in the hospital, and it had been decided that the boy would return to school after Christmas. The teachers would keep a close eye at him, and if he couldn't cope, he would have to be home-schooled, though Dr Green hoped to avoid this. After all, it was important for a child to have regular contact with other children.

Petunia had visited Harry more regularly since he had gotten better, and had decided that the boy wasn't as difficult as he had been before when under the influence of all this drugs. It was somewhat frightening to see a nine year old whose facial expressions were almost paralysed while at the same time he had strange twitches in in his shoulders and neck. His movements were quite rigid and stiff and sometimes it was difficult to understand him when he was talking (which wasn't very often, though). But the relief not having to deal with the boy's self harm and emotional outbursts any longer outweighed all the peculiar features by far.

Harry didn't really know how to feel about him being released. He supposed it was good, at least the wrong mind in his head told him so. It was a strange thing with that wrong mind, it had somehow changed during the last few month. It wasn't as demanding as it had been before, but left him alone most of the time. Of course, sometimes Harry could still hear it, and he was worried that it might hurt him again (Harry overheard it talking about finally killing him only a few days prior), but well, it was a lot more quiet than it had been before, therefore everything was fine, wasn't it?

It would be difficult getting used to all the chores again, after he had been able to laze about for month now, but he would manage. All things considered, Harry supposed he was glad that he was released and he looked forward to going to school again.