Title: Imaginary

Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling and her associates own these characters. I am writing this story for fun and not profit

Rating: M

Warnings: DH Spoilers, EWE. Sex and swearing

Summary: Harry collapses after the final battle and wakes up in a muggle hospital, with the doctors claiming he has been in a coma since he was 11 years old, when he ran head-first into a wall. He has to come to terms with the fact that the Wizarding World was simply a figment of his imagination...or was it?

Author's Notes: This is my first story so please be kind :) R&R!

Chapter One

'Avada Kedavra!'

'Expelliarmus!'

The bang was like a cannon blast and the golden flames that erupted between them, at the dead centre of the circle they had been treading, marked the point where the spells collided. Harry saw Voldemort's green jet meet his own spell, saw the Elder Wand fly high, dark against the sunrise, spinning across the enchanted ceiling like the head of Nagini, spinning through the air towards the master it would not kill, who had come to take full possession of it at last. And Harry, with the unerring skill of the Seeker, caught the wand in his free hand as Voldemort fell backwards, arms splayed, the slit pupils of the scarlet eyes rolling upwards. Tom Riddle hit the floor with a mundane finality, his body feeble and shrunken, the white hands empty, the snake like face vacant and unknowing. Voldemort was dead, killed by his own rebounding curse, and Harry stood with two wands in his hand, staring down at his enemy's shell.

One shivering second of silence, the shock of the moment suspended: and then the tumult broke around Harry as the screams and the cheers and the roars of the watchers rent the air. The fierce new sun dazzled the windows as they thundered towards him, but before they could reach him, Harry let out a yell filled with agony as his body was overrun with sensations. He felt his body collapse even as someone cast a spell to cushion the hard, stone floor. Several panicked voices met his cry, as he arched his back, convulsing with pain.

He felt as though his skin was melting off. Someone held his hands down whilst another kept his head in place. He screeched loud and bright as his pain shifted, growing more intense and diminishing at the same time. It was worse than the pain he felt under the Cruciatus curse, and Harry continued to yell even as his voice became rough. He felt a new pain added to his throbbing head, a pressure in his skull that focused behind his eyes and pressed against his scalp.

The pain grew again. All of it flooding back to focus in his chest where it pulsed. No longer able to yell, Harry whimpered as his chest felt like it was going to explode. The people around him waited in silence as Harry's body remained taut and the restraining hands were removed from his body.

Harry rolled to his side and managed one final ear-splitting scream as the pain erupted from his body, leaving what felt like a gaping, empty hole. The pain disappeared and a single plea for help escaped from his lips in a nearly silent whisper, as he felt a spot of light dance behind his closed eyelids. A catch in someone's throat was the only response he heard before the world fell away from him and he blacked out.

...

Harry awoke to a clean white ceiling above him and figured he was in the Hospital Wing. Glancing around the curtained space he found himself in for the formidable matron Madam Pomfrey, he groaned as his fatigued muscles twinged and he tried to recall what had caused him to end up in the hospital wing this time. Closing his eyes against the bright sunlight, he recalled the final battle with Voldemort, and his defeat of the Dark Lord. 'I did it. Finally, it's all over' Harry thought to himself as he turned on the uncomfortable bed.

With his eyes still closed, and his mind on his recent victory, Harry did not sense the footfalls that were heading towards his prone form.

"Mr. Potter!" a man's voice cried from the left of Harry's bed "You're awake!" Harry's eyes sprung open upon hearing the unfamiliar voice. A tall, thin, balding man was standing just beyond the pristine curtains, his eyes trained on Harry's face. He was clothed in what appeared to be a long white coat, the type typically worn by muggle doctors, and smart black trousers, and clutched in his pale hands was a plastic clipboard.

"Wha-who-who are you?" Harry stammered at the sight of a muggle in the most magical place he knew, Hogwarts. "How did you get here?" he asked the stranger.

A bemused expression flashed across the man's face and he chuckled "I'm Dr. Adams and I got here the way I normally go to work, in my car." Harry inwardly panicked at the thought of muggles being able to access Hogwarts via the motorway, unless...

"Where is here?" demanded Harry, "What happened?" The man's forehead creased slightly, before replying "You're in hospital Mr. Potter. The Royal London Hospital to be exact. And I'm sorry to say that you've been here for a very long time, seven years in fact." 'What, seven years? How can I have possibly been here for seven years? I defeated Voldemort yesterday for Merlin's sake' Harry thought to himself.

"I think you have me confused with another person, you see-"Harry insisted before being cut off by the now frowning man. "Oh no, Mr. Potter, you're definitely the right man, I should know what with you having been my patient since you arrived here. A most unfortunate accident, actually, the one that brought you here I mean. Severe trauma to the cranium following a sudden collision with a brick wall. Given your young age of eleven at the time, the incident caused heavy internal bleeding in your brain and put you straight into a coma. It's a good thing you were in a busy area at the time of your accident and someone was able to call an ambulance, or you might not be here with me today." The doctor grinned at Harry, whose eyes were wide and unblinking, before continuing "Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go and find a nurse to conduct some tests-"

But it was Harry's turn to interrupt "What accident? When?"

"Oh right. I believe the accident occurred on the 1st of September 1991, at Kings Cross Station. You ran your luggage trolley right into the wall" Dr. Adams chuckled again, before turning his back on Harry and exiting the curtained cubicle, which Harry now realised was full of beeping machines and muggle technology.

'No. No. NO!'