Just a little on-shot I came up with after I heard the song 'Mad World' from Gary Jules.

This is a song-fic but I must admit that the story can be read without the song, I just thought the song to be fitting.

Warnings: sad, not suicidal (see the AN at the bottom to understand why!)

Disclaimer:I don't own Harry Potter, nor do I own the song!

Anyway: enjoy and don't forget to leave a review behind^^

Mad World

Lyrics …


It had been three years after the Dursleys had finally allowed him to go to school – he was now eight – and he still had no friends.
Oh some of the children had been nice to him in the beginning but Dudley had made sure that they knew not to wantto play with freaky little Harry Potter. Now, he was just a shadow; unheard, unseen and unnoticed – otherwise they would just hurt him.

Not that he didn't notice the other children. He saw how they had fun, together.
He saw how their parents would always bring them to school and picked them up from school, the Dursleys never picked him up, they let him walk while they did pick Dudley up.

He watched every single day – carefully hidden in the bushes – as the other children played catch, or hide-and-seek or another game, together. But he was too afraid that Dudley and his gang might find him and play 'Harry-Hunting' -a sport the Dursleys encouraged - to join them. Not that they wanted him to join them.

He watched as the teachers laughed with each other while they made sure that the children weren't being bullied or getting hurt, but they never seemed to see him when Dudley and his gang went after him and hurt him or when he had bruises which one certainly didn't get from falling down the stairs. They only saw him when he did something they considered weird or against the rules.

All around me are familiar faces
Worn out places, worn out faces
Bright and early for the daily races
Going nowhere, going nowhere

He muffled his cries with his moth eaten blanket as good as he could as he carefully lied down on the tattered matrass - his cheek hurt from where his aunt had slapped him, his head hurt from where she had hit him with the heavy frying pan, his back and bottom hurt from where his uncle had hit him and his stomach hurt due to the fact that he hadn't been allowed to eat, again – after all, if the Dursleys heard him they would only punish him further. And he had still no idea as to why he had been punished this time.

He had learned a long time ago that the Dursleys - especially Vernon - liked to punish him for every little thing they could think of, even things he couldn't possibly have done like the fact that it rained on 'Dudley's special day' or the fact that Vernon didn't get the promotion he wanted so badly.
And he had learned that it was better to just except the punishment, lest they punished him for 'cheek'.

He sobbed harder as he remembered the name-calling, the threats and the disgusted sneers.

Their tears are filling up their glasses
No expression, no expression
Hide my head I wanna drown my sorrow
No tomorrow, no tomorrow

When he had been six he had looked up the word 'dead' in the dictionary as, according to the Dursleys, his parents were 'dead'. It had meant 'having lost life' or 'no longer alive' and apparently he was 'alive'. It had been the first time that he had wanted to be 'dead', as that would mean that he would be free from the Dursleys.

He sometimes wished that he was with his parents in Hell – as that was where they were according to the Dursleys – because that had to be better than the place he was now.
He had dreamed about them, how they would welcome him and love him and how they would never, ever abandon him.

Sometimes he hated them for getting into that car without him, leaving him alive and to the mercy of the Dursleys when they hit another car because his father had been drunk.
But he also loved the image he had of them so very much, as any child would love their parents – which was strange as he had never known them – and he missed the people he thought they had to have been.

And I find it kind of funny, I find it kind of sad
The dreams in which I'm dying are the best I've ever had
I find it hard to tell you, I find it hard to take
When people run in circles it's a very, very
Mad world, mad world

He knew that it would be his birthday in a couple of weeks but he didn't feel excited about it. It only meant that Petunia and Vernon would ignore him – which was a relieve because it also meant that he wouldn't be 'punished' – but it also meant Dudley would bully him – the few moments he washome - even more than he normally did and that they would give him even more chores than he normally had while they would go out and have fun, just the three of them.

He had never gotten a gift from them – unless one counted a couple of socks or coat hangers as gifts – they didn't buy or make a cake for him like they did for Dudley, they never took him somewhere like they did with Dudley and he sometimes wondered if he would ever get the change to actually celebrate it. With gifts and cake and friends. He doubted it.

Children waiting for the day they feel good
Happy birthday, happy birthday
And I feel the way that every child should
Sit and listen, sit and listen

He had been so happy when he had been allowed to go to school. While he knew that Dudley went to the same school, it was large enough and had enough classes that he wouldn't have to end up in Dudley's class.
There would be new people who knew nothing about him, who would accept him just the way he was. But that could only if he wasn't in the same class as Dudley.
Sadly enough, he did end up in Dudley's class and everything went wrong that very first day.

When the teacher had checked to see if everyone was there he hadn't reacted to his name as he hadn't known that his name was 'Harry Potter'.

When he had wanted to play with some of the other children Dudley had told them he had 'cooties' and the other children had ran away from him, afraid to get cooties and thus unwilling to play with him ever again.

When he hadn't understand what the teacher meant with 'letters' he had been ignored - as they should have learned that the year before, which had been before he had been allowed to attend school – and when he mentioned that to the teacher she had told him to 'stop exaggerating'.

He had turned her hair blue.

Went to school and I was very nervous
No one knew me, no one knew me
Hello teacher tell me, what's my lesson?
Look right through me, look right through me

It had been almost two years since the 'letters from no-one' had arrived, it was his second year in Hogwarts, school of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and he was already wishing he was eight again and a shadow, or six and 'dead'.
Almost the entire school had turned on him the second they had found out he was a Parselmouth but he was still noticeable, audible and visible and he wished he wasn't.

He was fourteen and his name had just been spit out by the Goblet of Fire. Once again the biggest part of the school had turned on him and he started to wish they would leave him alone.
Couldn't they see that he didn't want the fame, the fortune, the glory? Of course they didn't, they were to blinded by the glory and fame he already had and always thought that he wanted more.

He was fifteen and he clenched his hands to fists, the wounds clearly noticeable as they leaked blood on the floor.
Why didn't they believe him? Why should he lie about something like that? Did they really believe that Cedric would just drop dead? Or did they believe that he had killed him.
The world had gone mad.

He was seventeen and he was always running, always weary of others as they could sell him out the Ministry or Voldemort.
He knew that he had to do what Dumbledore had asked him to do but sometimes he wished that someone would just tell him 'you're too young to do this' or 'we will all help you'. He once again dreamed about being 'dead' and it had been years, well seven years, since he had last dreamed about that

And I find it kind of funny, I find it kind of sad
The dreams in which I'm dying are the best I've ever had
I find it hard to tell you, I find it hard to take
When people run in circles it's a very, very
Mad world, mad world, enlarging your world

He walked towards the place he where he knew Voldemort would be. It seemed like he had come full circle, first Voldemort came to him to kill him – he survived - now he walked willingly towards the man that would kill him – and he knew that he would end up dead.
He would finally see and hear his parents – the very people that had made sure that he would live – as he walked towards his own demise.

He looked up towards the starry night and wondered: what kind of world would send children out to win a war for them?
What kind of world expected a child to defeat a man who was at least fifty years older, who had been a genius and who had been able to charm the very sea to split for him if he had it to split.
He dropped the stone and walked forward – his parents, honorary uncle and godfather close behind him - as the answer came to him.

Mad world

I hope you guys enjoyed this fic.

Just some extra information: some of the terms are metaphors, like 'dead'. The mind of a six year old works differently than the mind of an adult or teenager. In Harry's mind 'dead' (and thus by association 'die', 'dying' and 'death') means 'getting away from the Dursleys'. It doesn't mean that he is suicidal!

Another thing: this one is a bit... depressing, there for I want to do the same thing only with a cheerful song and thus the good times of Harry's life... Which means that 'Walking on Sunshine' should be up in a couple of days!

Anyway: please push that lovely little button and leave a review!