So, this was just sudden. Really don't know what made me write this but I'm looking forward to your feedback

The boy awoke, his emerald eyes slowly coming to focus on the naked bulb above and the screams reverberating against the walls. He was dimly aware of his body being rigid and straight. There was absolutely no movement possible. Pulling his head upward he could see thick straps over his arms and legs. Saliva pooled in the back of his throat and he swallowed, panicked. More saliva came and over and over he drank it down so as not to panic. He twisted his limbs, turning them, feeling the friction of the fabric against his skin.

It took his brain a while to catch up with where he was and what was happening. The panic subsided and he grew still in the restraints. He tried to focus on why he was in them. A white misty fog clouded his brain and he tried to grasp the memories through it. Wandering blindly and attempting to grab something, anything. It was too dense…the fog was too dense and he couldn't… he couldn't focus…couldn't see through it no matter how hard he tried.

He gave up and twisted his head in the restraints, taking in his surroundings. The familiar view and sounds gave him some semblance of calm. But calm was probably the wrong word. There was no calm in this place. They called Hogwarts the "asylum" as if it were a place of refuge, it was anything but. It was a place for those no one knew what to do with, the ones that had been forgotten by the wider world. He squeezed his eyes shut. There was no point in struggling. The restraints would only come off if Doctor Albus willed it.

In here he had no rights. He couldn't leave. He couldn't choose when to rise or the time at which he may go to bed. He couldn't refuse the poisons that made his mind slow to the point of stopping at every emotion and thought. Doctor Albus decided every little thing.

There was no rest from the screams of others, the ones driven crazier by the hours of isolation. They weren't patients but inmates, barely human at all. He drew in a deep breath. He wasn't like them. He wasn't crazy. He wasn't insane. And he didn't belong here. One of the nurses, dressed in their usual, spotless white uniforms walked past his bed. He opened his mouth to speak but closed it instantly.

His gaze locked on to the bulb again and he focused on his memories again. The fog was a bit less dense. The drugs must be wearing off. He instantly reached for his memories. The first one being of his first day here. He couldn't remember what had happened before that. Doctor Albus had done that to him. But he remembered how he had been brought in. His own screams and cries. His pleas that he wasn't insane. But no one had heard. They had taken his dignity along with his clothes, they had talked to him as if he were a challenged five-year-old. Doctor Albus still talked to him like that. He knew he was always being watched, all his negative emotions were recorded and punished, his dull and passive behaviours were praised and rewarded.

The thought sliced through the fog. That was why he was restrained. He hadn't answered Doctor Albus' questions. He had acted up and reiterated the point that he wasn't insane. Saying that he was insane was the worst kind of treason in this place.

He had learned on his second day here that in that place, there wasn't one word he could say that wouldn't be taken as insane. Every little thing about him was over scrutinized, every emotion taken as a sign of imbalance. The pills came, as did the over cooked food…bland and over salted. In that place of locked doors and barred windows time slowed…the clock ticking out but moments were frozen. Every day was the same.

Harry was brought out of his thoughts by a calm, collected voice. He looked away from the bulb he had been focusing on and turned his attention to the tall, thin man with silver hair and beard standing at his bedside. He gazed up into those brilliant, soul-piercing blue eyes that were twinkling with kindness. Sometimes he wanted to believe that the kindness really was genuine. The leather straps restraining him made him think otherwise,

"My dear boy, have you had enough time to contemplate?"

He knew he had to play along if he ever wanted to get out of these restraints. He nodded silently. Doctor Albus smiled benignly,

"Excellent. You are making progress. Another day shall do wonders for you."

His horror must have become apparent on his face because the man frowned concernedly and patted him on the cheek,

"This is for your own good, my boy."

He wanted to protest. He wanted to yell and scream that this wasn't for his good. He desperately wanted to get out of this place before Doctor Albus took anymore of his memories. Before he forgot his own name. What was his name again? A wave of panic drowned out everything other thought. He struggled desperately to find the answer in his drug addled mind. No…No…NO! He couldn't remember. He couldn't remember. He writhed against the restraints. Doctor Albus rested his hand on his forehead,

"Relax. All shall be well. You shall get better."

He grew still as Doctor Albus traced the scar on his forehead with his finger. How had he gotten that? He had remembered how once. His name…that's what he needed to remember. What was his name? Doctor Albus brushed his hair away from his forehead and spoke gently,

"What is the first step to recovery, Harry?"

Harry…that was his name. He held onto it tight and repeated it over and over inside his head so that he wouldn't forget it again. But he would. He knew it. As soon as he would be dosed again, he would. The first step to recovery…the answer rolled off his tongue without thought,

"Acceptance."

Doctor Albus seemed very pleased with the answer and his smile widened. Harry could only hope that he would let him out of these restraints soon,

"Have you accepted your illness, Harry?"

NO! He hadn't because there was no illness to accept in the first place. He wasn't insane. But he had to say something to placate Doctor Albus otherwise he would be stuck in these restraints forever,

"Yes, Doctor. I am not well."

Doctor Albus patted him on the head gently and spoke,

"Indeed, Harry. You are not but I shall make you all better. Do you trust me?"

No again. He didn't trust anyone in this place,

"Yes, Doctor. I trust you."

Doctor Albus stepped back from his bed,

"Madam Pomfrey, I believe it is time for Harry's injection."

He turned to him, smiled benignly and spoke,

"If you take your injection like a good boy, I shall let you out of these restraints. They must be awfully uncomfortable but they are for your own good. They are there to make you all better."

Harry could only nod but he internally screamed. He didn't want that fog again. He closed his eyes and lectured himself

Calm down…calm down. It's just an injection. Doctor Albus is going to let you out tomorrow if you take it silently. Then you can escape. DO not mess this up. Don't mess it up and calm down.

Harry felt the sleeve of his shirt being rolled up past his elbow and the needle prick his skin. He willed himself to remain still all through the process. When the needle was pulled away. He opened his eyes and saw Doctor Albus smiling radiantly,

"Very good, Harry. You are on your way to recovery."

Harry watched him walk away and closed his eyes. He had three minutes before he blacked out. In those three minutes, he attempted to hold onto everything he remembered. But most of all he held onto his name. He couldn't forget his name again. That would mean that he was forgetting himself. He could feel it happening. The darkness consuming his thoughts, his memories, everything inside his head like a tidal wave. His name…he had to hold on to that. It was important... Very important. Harry…Harry…His name was Harry.