Categories > Books > Harry Potter > Ghost
Ghost
Chapter 1 Accident
Fifteen, nearing sixteen-year-old Harry Potter only recently returned home from school. He walked lonely through the streets with no real destination. He had just had a huge argument with his uncle and has a huge sore purple bruise over his left eye to prove it. However, he ignored the pain as he walked, running his right hand through his messy black hair. His emerald green eyes’ scanning the busy street; cars whizzing by and pedestrians avoiding him because of his baggy dirty clothes.
Harry wondered why Dumbledore sent him back here every year, especially since his godfather Sirius recently died. He felt like he has no control over his own life; maybe he never has. He could not remember truly making a decision for himself. He is sent to this place every year to suffer alone, friendless. He wondered why his friends never visited him or invited him to spend the day with them ever.
He thought if Dumbledore were just honest and straight forward with him from the beginning, many of the mistakes would have been avoided. His godfather would be alive, and he probably would not be considering suicide. Just one-step into the busy road and it would be all over. Just two words with his wand pointed at him and it would all end.
Harry sighed as he stopped walking and looked out into the road, watching the vehicles drive by. He is too afraid to even end his own life; sighing again, he turned to leave when something caught his attention on the other side of the road. A football rolled out in front of an open back truck carrying some kind of barrel drums. The trucks brakes screeched as a little girl of five or six ran out after the ball, Harrys’ eyes widened in horror.
He did not even remember running but before he knew it, he was halfway towards the girl as she stopped in horror staring as the truck skidded to its side, tilted ready to fall. “My baby!” he heard a panicked woman scram as if miles away, time seemed to slow. Harry grabbed the girls arm and she screamed as he threw her off the road where she crashed to the path. Harry gulped as he turned towards the truck as it fell to its side, the barrels bursting open and a wave of red, green, blue and black gunk like liquid gushed him, splashing the raven-black haired boy, smashing him hard to the ground where he bounced several feet before stopping. The truck stopped less than a meter from where he landed.
Harry lay on his black, blood leaking into the foul smelling liquid, gasping for breath. He looked up dizzily to the sky, the world around him quiet. The clouds looked so peaceful, so beautiful; he barely registered people around him as a smile graced his blood soaked lips. He thought death might have been painful, but he felt at peace.
He lifted his right hand and arm, stretching towards the clouds, a soft chuckle escaped his lips. “I-I’ll see-see,” he coughed up blood barely hearing someone telling him to keep quiet, holding his hand telling him not to move. “I’ll see you… soon mum, dad,” he coughed again. “I-I’ll be free,” he whispered as bloody tears slowly streaked down his face, his smile still in place.
Harrys' arm then dropped to his side and he was gone.
Harry blinked in surprise as he stood staring at, well himself, dead. He saw his reflection in the chemical mess on the ground surprised, his hair, snow white and his eyes a glowing, florescent green. To his even greater surprise, he was wearing a tight black leather padded outfit, trousers, long-sleeved top, and boots with thin long coat undone hanging to his ankles with a high flexible collar, the coat waved eerily in the breeze.
He seemed to stand on the chemical puddle without interacting with it. He watched himself as people panicked around him; he guessed he died. “Am I really dead?” he asked himself as he then watched as paramedics rushed to the scene with portable resuscitation machine. They ripped away his baggy shirt and placed the pads on him, and he felt it and yelled out, but his body did not wake.
They shocked him again and the world went blank.
Harry groaned as his eyes slowly opened, somewhere nearby was a highly annoying beep. His eyes looked blearily around the room before focusing, he blinked in surprise, and he had hoped it was just a bad dream, but no, he was now in a hospital bed surrounded by machines with tubes running in and out of him.
He tried to breath and suddenly started chocking; he had some kind of tube down his throat. He panicked trying to remove it when somebody un-strapped it from his head pulling it out.
“Breathe, breathe,” a woman’s voice said as he gasped for breath, relaxing a bit he looked at her. She was a doctor, fairly young with white coat and a gentle smile with short brown hair and green eyes. “Well welcome back to the waken world,” she greeted him.
“W-what the hell,” he blinked, shaking his head clear and gave a small smile. “Err, thanks, I guess,” he replied weakly, resting his head on the pillow.
“You had no ID, could I have a name?” she asked hopefully.
“Um, yeah… my names Harry… Harry Potter,” he replied. “H-how long have I been out?” he asked.
“You’re very lucky to be alive,” she replied. “We had to pump that crap out of your system; you’ve been sleeping for two weeks… I am surprised at your recovery rate though.”
“T-two weeks,” he gasped out worriedly.
She nodded. “So who should we call? No one has come to claim you.”
Harry laughed bitterly. “Don’t worry, I’m sure they’ll find me soon, lets just hope the right assholes find me before the wrong assholes,” he groaned as he adjusted his position.
“So you are a wizard,” she replied bluntly.
Harry looked at her in surprised. “H-how’d you know?” he asked with a small pained wince.
She laughed. “My niece goes to Hogwarts,” she replied with a grin. “So are you like, um, ‘the’ Harry Potter I’ve heard about?”
He rolled his eyes. “Who cares, and what do I have to do to get a do not resuscitate badge, I was looking forward to the peace.”
The doctor frowned. “Don’t talk like that,” she reprimanded. “I’m sure your friends would miss you.”
Harry snorted. “Yeah, right… my godfather recently died and they send me off to those bastards. ‘It’s for your own safety’,” he mocked. “’It doesn’t matter if you go insane’.” He rolled his eyes looking away.
“What do you mean?” she asked gently sitting next to him.
Harry laughed humourlessly. “Do you know my story?” he asked expectantly, he was not sure why he would tell anyone but thought he might feel better if he does.
“Um, yes… you survived a curse that should have killed you as a baby,” she replied. “It also supposedly killed some dark wizard your kind are too afraid to even mention by name.”
Harry laughed. “Voldemort,” he laughed. “A stupid name, sounds like a cartoon bad guy to me,” he chuckled amusedly. “Yeah, well that’s the gist of the story,” he agreed turning to her; he smirked. “However, while the wizards and witches, danced, partied and praised my name, the story continued. I was taken to my magic hating aunt and uncle. I spent the next nine years of my life living in a cupboard under the stairs, treated as a slave, beaten, starved, and friendless. See that’s what people do with their heroes, they throw them away until they are needed. Apparently I’m safe while I’m there,” he laughed bitterly, she looked horrified.
He just leaned back for a moment thinking. “See, I’m stuck… they’ll never let me leave. They’ll never leave me alone, they’ll come, they’ll find me, it’s just a matter of who comes first, and to be honest I don’t much care anymore.” Though he had to wonder why they have not already found him, maybe they have not found out he is gone yet. He hopped so.
He smiled at her sadly then grabbed his head screaming out in pain he bolted upright squeezing his eyes tight, the pain was near unbearable.
Flashback
“Don’t worry Harry,” whispered a kind old woman to the young bruised four-year-old boy teary-eyed in the hospital bed next to her. “You’ll never have to go back to them people again; I’ll make sure nobody ever hurts you, I promise.” Harry looked at the woman in holy gratitude with a small sad smile as he nodded.
Just then, they were interrupted as a kind, smiling elderly man walked in with twinkling blue eyes, long white hair, and beard. “Ah, Harry m’boy,” the old man greeted with a smile pulling a stick from his pocket. “You’ll be right as rain soon and I’ll get you back to your relatives. You’ll be safe with your family.” Harry looked beyond panicked and the old woman stood angrily. The last thing Harry remembered was a green light. Then he woke up in his cupboard confused with aching muscles, he could not remember why his muscles would ache though.
End Flashback
Harrys’ screaming ended abruptly and he gasped for breath, his eyes snapping open he saw his doctor hurriedly checking him over looking beyond worried. “I-its okay,” he croaked out breathing heavily. “I’ve felt worse pain from this bastard scar,” he lifted his fringe showing her. “I have this freaking connection to Voldemort, when he’s near me or positively pissed it burns like the fires of hell. I’ve even gotten visions from him of what he’s been doing.”
“A-and that was a vision?” she asked worriedly.
He shook his head. “No, that was… something else,” he replied hiding his anger as best he could.
She nodded, though could tell he was hiding something and it made him angry. “You have no guardians’ right? Because we found something in our cat-scans that scar that you said connects you to Voldemort is cancerous if we don’t remove it soon, in a few years it will kill you.”
Harry blinked in surprise. “I have some kind of cursed cancer?” he asked in bewilderment.
She chuckled a little at that. “I guess so. We’ll have to remove the whole scar and give you a skin graft.”
“And you can just do that?” he asked hopefully.
She shrugged. “You have no guardians as far as we know and we have to act fast to save your life. You might get lucky and this connection thing might end with the surgery.”
“D-do it,” he begged. “Do it quickly, if Dumbledore finds me before you do he’ll stop you, I know he will, please,” he pleaded.
She nodded. “I’ve already put you down for surgery in two days, we weren’t going to wait for you to wake, but I’ll have you moved up to this afternoon. Oh, by the way my names Doctor Kathy Benton, I’ll bend some rules and tell a few half truths to bump you up the list.”
Harry nodded gratefully with a small smile as she exited his room. Sighing he leaned back against his pillow, he felt like ripping Dumbledore to pieces, well no more. Fuck, what the old bastard wants, he is not returning to his so called family. He thought for a moment, a small grin spreading across his lips, a vacation would be nice if he gets out of hospital soon.
T.B.C…
Chapter 1 Accident
Fifteen, nearing sixteen-year-old Harry Potter only recently returned home from school. He walked lonely through the streets with no real destination. He had just had a huge argument with his uncle and has a huge sore purple bruise over his left eye to prove it. However, he ignored the pain as he walked, running his right hand through his messy black hair. His emerald green eyes’ scanning the busy street; cars whizzing by and pedestrians avoiding him because of his baggy dirty clothes.
Harry wondered why Dumbledore sent him back here every year, especially since his godfather Sirius recently died. He felt like he has no control over his own life; maybe he never has. He could not remember truly making a decision for himself. He is sent to this place every year to suffer alone, friendless. He wondered why his friends never visited him or invited him to spend the day with them ever.
He thought if Dumbledore were just honest and straight forward with him from the beginning, many of the mistakes would have been avoided. His godfather would be alive, and he probably would not be considering suicide. Just one-step into the busy road and it would be all over. Just two words with his wand pointed at him and it would all end.
Harry sighed as he stopped walking and looked out into the road, watching the vehicles drive by. He is too afraid to even end his own life; sighing again, he turned to leave when something caught his attention on the other side of the road. A football rolled out in front of an open back truck carrying some kind of barrel drums. The trucks brakes screeched as a little girl of five or six ran out after the ball, Harrys’ eyes widened in horror.
He did not even remember running but before he knew it, he was halfway towards the girl as she stopped in horror staring as the truck skidded to its side, tilted ready to fall. “My baby!” he heard a panicked woman scram as if miles away, time seemed to slow. Harry grabbed the girls arm and she screamed as he threw her off the road where she crashed to the path. Harry gulped as he turned towards the truck as it fell to its side, the barrels bursting open and a wave of red, green, blue and black gunk like liquid gushed him, splashing the raven-black haired boy, smashing him hard to the ground where he bounced several feet before stopping. The truck stopped less than a meter from where he landed.
Harry lay on his black, blood leaking into the foul smelling liquid, gasping for breath. He looked up dizzily to the sky, the world around him quiet. The clouds looked so peaceful, so beautiful; he barely registered people around him as a smile graced his blood soaked lips. He thought death might have been painful, but he felt at peace.
He lifted his right hand and arm, stretching towards the clouds, a soft chuckle escaped his lips. “I-I’ll see-see,” he coughed up blood barely hearing someone telling him to keep quiet, holding his hand telling him not to move. “I’ll see you… soon mum, dad,” he coughed again. “I-I’ll be free,” he whispered as bloody tears slowly streaked down his face, his smile still in place.
Harrys' arm then dropped to his side and he was gone.
Harry blinked in surprise as he stood staring at, well himself, dead. He saw his reflection in the chemical mess on the ground surprised, his hair, snow white and his eyes a glowing, florescent green. To his even greater surprise, he was wearing a tight black leather padded outfit, trousers, long-sleeved top, and boots with thin long coat undone hanging to his ankles with a high flexible collar, the coat waved eerily in the breeze.
He seemed to stand on the chemical puddle without interacting with it. He watched himself as people panicked around him; he guessed he died. “Am I really dead?” he asked himself as he then watched as paramedics rushed to the scene with portable resuscitation machine. They ripped away his baggy shirt and placed the pads on him, and he felt it and yelled out, but his body did not wake.
They shocked him again and the world went blank.
Harry groaned as his eyes slowly opened, somewhere nearby was a highly annoying beep. His eyes looked blearily around the room before focusing, he blinked in surprise, and he had hoped it was just a bad dream, but no, he was now in a hospital bed surrounded by machines with tubes running in and out of him.
He tried to breath and suddenly started chocking; he had some kind of tube down his throat. He panicked trying to remove it when somebody un-strapped it from his head pulling it out.
“Breathe, breathe,” a woman’s voice said as he gasped for breath, relaxing a bit he looked at her. She was a doctor, fairly young with white coat and a gentle smile with short brown hair and green eyes. “Well welcome back to the waken world,” she greeted him.
“W-what the hell,” he blinked, shaking his head clear and gave a small smile. “Err, thanks, I guess,” he replied weakly, resting his head on the pillow.
“You had no ID, could I have a name?” she asked hopefully.
“Um, yeah… my names Harry… Harry Potter,” he replied. “H-how long have I been out?” he asked.
“You’re very lucky to be alive,” she replied. “We had to pump that crap out of your system; you’ve been sleeping for two weeks… I am surprised at your recovery rate though.”
“T-two weeks,” he gasped out worriedly.
She nodded. “So who should we call? No one has come to claim you.”
Harry laughed bitterly. “Don’t worry, I’m sure they’ll find me soon, lets just hope the right assholes find me before the wrong assholes,” he groaned as he adjusted his position.
“So you are a wizard,” she replied bluntly.
Harry looked at her in surprised. “H-how’d you know?” he asked with a small pained wince.
She laughed. “My niece goes to Hogwarts,” she replied with a grin. “So are you like, um, ‘the’ Harry Potter I’ve heard about?”
He rolled his eyes. “Who cares, and what do I have to do to get a do not resuscitate badge, I was looking forward to the peace.”
The doctor frowned. “Don’t talk like that,” she reprimanded. “I’m sure your friends would miss you.”
Harry snorted. “Yeah, right… my godfather recently died and they send me off to those bastards. ‘It’s for your own safety’,” he mocked. “’It doesn’t matter if you go insane’.” He rolled his eyes looking away.
“What do you mean?” she asked gently sitting next to him.
Harry laughed humourlessly. “Do you know my story?” he asked expectantly, he was not sure why he would tell anyone but thought he might feel better if he does.
“Um, yes… you survived a curse that should have killed you as a baby,” she replied. “It also supposedly killed some dark wizard your kind are too afraid to even mention by name.”
Harry laughed. “Voldemort,” he laughed. “A stupid name, sounds like a cartoon bad guy to me,” he chuckled amusedly. “Yeah, well that’s the gist of the story,” he agreed turning to her; he smirked. “However, while the wizards and witches, danced, partied and praised my name, the story continued. I was taken to my magic hating aunt and uncle. I spent the next nine years of my life living in a cupboard under the stairs, treated as a slave, beaten, starved, and friendless. See that’s what people do with their heroes, they throw them away until they are needed. Apparently I’m safe while I’m there,” he laughed bitterly, she looked horrified.
He just leaned back for a moment thinking. “See, I’m stuck… they’ll never let me leave. They’ll never leave me alone, they’ll come, they’ll find me, it’s just a matter of who comes first, and to be honest I don’t much care anymore.” Though he had to wonder why they have not already found him, maybe they have not found out he is gone yet. He hopped so.
He smiled at her sadly then grabbed his head screaming out in pain he bolted upright squeezing his eyes tight, the pain was near unbearable.
Flashback
“Don’t worry Harry,” whispered a kind old woman to the young bruised four-year-old boy teary-eyed in the hospital bed next to her. “You’ll never have to go back to them people again; I’ll make sure nobody ever hurts you, I promise.” Harry looked at the woman in holy gratitude with a small sad smile as he nodded.
Just then, they were interrupted as a kind, smiling elderly man walked in with twinkling blue eyes, long white hair, and beard. “Ah, Harry m’boy,” the old man greeted with a smile pulling a stick from his pocket. “You’ll be right as rain soon and I’ll get you back to your relatives. You’ll be safe with your family.” Harry looked beyond panicked and the old woman stood angrily. The last thing Harry remembered was a green light. Then he woke up in his cupboard confused with aching muscles, he could not remember why his muscles would ache though.
End Flashback
Harrys’ screaming ended abruptly and he gasped for breath, his eyes snapping open he saw his doctor hurriedly checking him over looking beyond worried. “I-its okay,” he croaked out breathing heavily. “I’ve felt worse pain from this bastard scar,” he lifted his fringe showing her. “I have this freaking connection to Voldemort, when he’s near me or positively pissed it burns like the fires of hell. I’ve even gotten visions from him of what he’s been doing.”
“A-and that was a vision?” she asked worriedly.
He shook his head. “No, that was… something else,” he replied hiding his anger as best he could.
She nodded, though could tell he was hiding something and it made him angry. “You have no guardians’ right? Because we found something in our cat-scans that scar that you said connects you to Voldemort is cancerous if we don’t remove it soon, in a few years it will kill you.”
Harry blinked in surprise. “I have some kind of cursed cancer?” he asked in bewilderment.
She chuckled a little at that. “I guess so. We’ll have to remove the whole scar and give you a skin graft.”
“And you can just do that?” he asked hopefully.
She shrugged. “You have no guardians as far as we know and we have to act fast to save your life. You might get lucky and this connection thing might end with the surgery.”
“D-do it,” he begged. “Do it quickly, if Dumbledore finds me before you do he’ll stop you, I know he will, please,” he pleaded.
She nodded. “I’ve already put you down for surgery in two days, we weren’t going to wait for you to wake, but I’ll have you moved up to this afternoon. Oh, by the way my names Doctor Kathy Benton, I’ll bend some rules and tell a few half truths to bump you up the list.”
Harry nodded gratefully with a small smile as she exited his room. Sighing he leaned back against his pillow, he felt like ripping Dumbledore to pieces, well no more. Fuck, what the old bastard wants, he is not returning to his so called family. He thought for a moment, a small grin spreading across his lips, a vacation would be nice if he gets out of hospital soon.
T.B.C…
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