Ron, Hermione, and Ginny arrived at the ground floor of St. Mungo’s hospital, triggering a wave of grief as they recalled their last visit. Escorted by Moody and Tonks to see Mr. Weasley after his snakebite, the memory now stung with loss, missing the Aurors’ talents and mourning them like a father and mother.

The reception was eerily quiet and empty, a stark contrast to their last visit when the room had been filled with rows of witches and wizards seated on rickety chairs. Some patients back then had appeared disfigured, while others emitted peculiar noises. Now only the sound of pages flipping disturbed the cold chamber’s silence as a couple witches read outdated copies of Witch Weekly. Familiar lime-green robed Healers paced the halls.

The trio approached the plump blonde witch stationed at the INQUIRIES desk.

“We’re here to see Rubeus Hagrid,” Hermione said quickly to the witch.

“Oh, the giant,” the witch replied in a bored voice, giving a yawn before adding, “He gave us quite a fright when he came in here.”

Hearing the witch call Hagrid ‘the giant,’ Ron asked in an offended tone, “What happened to him?”

Not noticing Ron’s annoyance, the blonde witch explained, “Well, he had huge cuts on his arms and chest. He was bleeding so badly that he left puddles of blood on the floor. He’s probably resting now.”

Ginny’s features creased with concern as she asked, “Where can we find him?”

Pointing a bony finger at the double doors beyond her desk, the witch directed, “Fourth floor. Take the lift through there to reach it.”

“Thank you,” Hermione replied.

They had passed through the double doors before, remembering the candlelit portraits of famous Healers that lined the walls. Their footsteps echoed across the marble rooms as they climbed a flight of stairs to the first floor for treating creature-induced injuries.

Beyond the hall, they discovered two lifts behind ornate silver grilles. The grilles opened automatically, and they entered one lift which ascended slowly once the grilles closed. After a few quiet minutes, the lift halted and a cool female voice announced, “Level four, Spell Damage.” When the grilles opened, paper airplanes swooped inside, fluttering above them. Noticing the word “BILL” stamped on the wings of a nearby plane, they stared briefly before exiting the lift to survey their surroundings.

A motherly Healer noticed the trio and came over to them with a warm smile. “How may I help you, dears?” she asked kindly.

“Could you please direct us to Rubeus Hagrid’s ward?” Hermione inquired politely.

“Of course,” the Healer responded. “His room is at the very end of this hallway,” she said, pointing to a door at the far end of the corridor.

The small, dingy ward was set up for four patients, but Hagrid was the only occupant. His huge frame barely fit the small bed, and he looked uncomfortable. When he saw the three visitors, Hagrid’s face lit up with a broad smile.

“Hagrid!” they exclaimed, rushing to his side. His arms and chest were heavily bandaged, and healing gashes streaked his cheeks.

“Hi there,” Hagrid greeted warmly. “Good thing yeh got my letter.”

“We received your letter this morning and came right away,” Ron said quickly. “Harry would certainly want to visit if he knew you were hurt.”

Hagrid furrowed his bushy eyebrows. “What do yeh mean? Harry doesn’ know I’m injured?”

“He’s getting worse,” Ginny told him. “He can hardly walk, move, or eat now. He’s always exhausted. He was sleeping when we decided to come see you.”

Hagrid gazed at her sorrowfully.

Hermione gently placed her hand on Hagrid’s massive arm, her voice filled with concern. “You really frightened us when you wrote about being attacked by Death Eaters. Please tell us, what happened?”

“I was attacked, all righ’,” Hagrid said gruffly. “Lucky I got in here when I did, or I would’ve lost too much blood.”

“But how did it happen?” Ron asked impatiently. “Were you in the Thestral cave? Did you recognize who attacked you?”

Hagrid rolled over in bed to face them before explaining, “I was searchin’ for Thestrals in the eastern lands near Hogwarts and Ireland when I got yer letter, Ron. I had suspected there might be wild Thestrals there, but I didn’t know exactly where until yeh told me in yer letter. Did yeh get my reply this mornin’, Ron?”

Ron’s expression darkened. “No, why?”

“Well,” Hagrid began, “when yer owl brought me yer letter, his left wing was bent at an odd angle… he’s certainly hurt. His feathers were all ruffled up too.”

“Do you think he was attacked?” Hermione asked, her face showing both confusion and concern. “And that Ron’s letter was intercepted?”

“It looked like it,” Hagrid replied. “I was worried yer owl wouldn’t make it back ter yer, but I guess he turned out okay in the end?”

“I haven’t thoroughly checked on him since he arrived,” said Ron.

“Yeh might want ter check on him when yer go home later,” Hagrid said firmly to him.

“What happened after that, Hagrid?” Hermione asked as she quietly sat down in the chair across from Hagrid.

“I Apparated near the cave yer mentioned and found it empty at first. Searchin’ for the Thestrals, I discovered ‘em huddled in a distant corner. Just as I collected the tail hair, dark cloaked figures began emergin’ from all directions.”

“How did you get those injuries?” asked Ginny, eyeing the bandages on Hagrid’s arms and chest.

“Two Death Eaters hit me with a Severing Charm,” Hagrid replied, gazing at his bandages. “It could’ve killed me, but they botched the spell in the dark. I Disapparated just in time before they cast more. Apparated straight here after that.”

Ron’s mouth gaped open in shock, and Hermione gasped as she covered her mouth with her hands.

“I shudder to think what might have happened if you hadn’t escaped right away,” Ginny said with a slight shiver, a chill running down her spine.

“Did you see any of their faces, Hagrid?” Ron asked anxiously.

“Nay, it was pitch black in that cave,” Hagrid replied.

Hermione fell silent, lost in thought. She could tell the others were pondering the same questions: Who had sent the Death Eaters after Hagrid? Who had intercepted Ron’s owl? Was Draco Malfoy behind it all?

“We think Malfoy sent the Death Eaters after you, Hagrid,” Ron declared at once.

“Draco Malfoy?” Hagrid asked, looking surprised.

Ron nodded resolutely. “He’s the only one who knew about the cave-”

“We can’t say that for certain, Ron,” Ginny interrupted. “You-Know-Who might have told other followers about it too.”

“But...” Ron protested. “Malfoy said himself that You-Know-Who told him about it. We just weren’t sure why he would betray Harry if he owed his life to him.”

Looking incredulous, Hagrid asked, “He owes Harry? How?”

Ron explained, “Harry saved his life at the Battle of Hogwarts.” With a dark expression, he added, “I honestly would have let him die if it were me. If he did betray Harry and send those Death Eaters after you, he doesn’t deserve to be saved.”

Hermione looked up and met Ron’s eyes. “But we don’t know if that’s true, Ron,” she argued. “There may be someone else planning the attacks. I still don’t think Malfoy—”

“Yeah, I’ve heard that, Hermione,” Ron cut her off sharply, annoyance creeping into his voice as he crossed his arms. “It seems like you’re taking his side.”

“I’m not taking sides, Ron,” Hermione replied heatedly. “I’m just saying he was aware of Harry’s illness and willing to help, even reluctantly.”

“He’s only pretending, Hermione,” Ron insisted stubbornly. “He’d never actually help Harry.”

“Then why did he come to the Burrow to speak with Harry?” Hermione questioned, arching an eyebrow.

“I dunno, probably just snooping around,” Ron replied dismissively.

Hermione sighed inwardly. She was out of arguments. Ron had some valid points, but she disagreed with others. A sad expression crossed her face as she glanced apologetically at Hagrid.

“We’re sorry, Hagrid. We didn’t intend for you to be harmed because of this mission,” she said.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

“Tha’s alright, Hermione,” said Hagrid, attempting a faint smile that looked more like a grimace. “I knew the risks. And this is fer Harry’s wellbeing. I’d do anythin’ fer him.”

“How long will you be staying here?” she asked.

“I would’ve expected a few days,” said Hagrid, “but seein’ as I’m a giant n’ all, I don’ think they want me ’round much longer - Oh!” He suddenly exclaimed. “I nearly forgot—” Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a blotched envelope and handed it to Hermione. “Here yer go.” Inside was a Thestral tail hair.

Hermione’s eyes filled with tears as she accepted the Thestral’s tail hair from Hagrid. “Thank you, Hagrid. Harry will be thrilled when we give this to him,” she said, pocketing the present and looking up to meet Hagrid’s gaze. “Would you like to join us?”

“I’d love ter. Jus’ a mo’—” Hagrid stretched in his bed before standing, ducking to avoid the ceiling. He grabbed his pink umbrella and followed Ron, Hermione, and Ginny out the door.

As they were about to ascend the stairs, Hermione recognized the approaching Augustus Pye from when he had treated Mr. Weasley. His lime green Healer’s robes bore a name tag that confirmed his identity. When he saw Ron and Ginny, his eyes lit up at the sight of the Weasley siblings.

“Hello,” he greeted cheerfully. “I thought I might run into the Weasleys here.”

“What do you mean?” asked Ron, his brow furrowing in confusion. “Why did you think we’d be here?”

“Aren’t you visiting your brother?” Augustus asked, looking surprised.

“What are you talking about?” Ginny gasped, bewildered. “I didn’t know any of my brothers were here. Which brother?”

“Percy Weasley, of course.”

Ron’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “No, that’s impossible. Percy is at home right now with our parents.”

The Healer jerked his head back, startled, as his eyes flew open in shock. “I assure you, Percy is here. He was admitted early this morning, unconscious. It looked like someone had attacked him.”

Ginny’s mouth fell open. “But that can’t be! We talked to Percy, and he seemed fine when he arrived. He didn’t look attacked at all.”

“Percy never left the hospital,” the Healer informed them. “Are you certain your brother went home? Because he’s lying here right now. I can take you to see him.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” Hermione whispered to Ron and Ginny as they hurried after Augustus down the same hallway, but on the opposite side. Hagrid lingered behind as the rest entered the ward, his huge frame too large for the small room.

Inside, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny saw a red-haired young man with horn-rimmed glasses lying flustered in bed, clearly in pain. They rushed to his side.

The young man was startled by their sudden arrival. When he saw the group, he yelped in surprise. “I wasn’t expecting you all to visit!”

“We weren’t expecting you to be here either, Percy. What happened? Did something happen at the Burrow?” Ron asked quickly, eyes narrowing at his brother.

“The Burrow?” Percy asked, perplexed. “I’ve never been to the Burrow yet. I mean, I was planning to go but never got the chance.” He blinked at them rapidly for a moment.

Everyone’s eyes widened in surprise.

“What do you mean you weren’t expecting us?” Hermione asked curiously.

Percy lowered his head, looking embarrassed. “Well,” he said in a low voice, “I didn’t want anyone to know I was admitted here. I didn’t want you all to worry. I was going to handle it on my own.”

“You were attacked, Percy!” Ginny said incredulously. “Of course we’d be worried. How can you say that?”

“I heard Harry is sick,” Percy said. “Dad mentioned it, but I haven’t heard anything since. I had planned to visit, but work got in the way, you know how it is.” He looked up. “What brings all of you here? Are Mum and Dad with you too?”

Ginny replied, “We’re here for Hagrid. Death Eaters attacked him.” She launched into the details.

Percy looked surprised. “Hagrid?”

“Yeah,” Ron confirmed. “But he’s alright now. The healers patched him up.”

Ginny added, “He’s just outside. He said he’d wait by the door while we talked to you.”

“What happened to you?” Ron asked, eyeing Percy closely who shifted uncomfortably in the bed.

“I was in my office this morning...but I don’t remember much else around the time of the incident,” Percy replied. “I had planned to visit the Burrow, yet as I said, I never got the chance.”

They exchanged nervous glances.

“Did you see or hear anything during the attack?” Hermione asked anxiously.

Shaking his head, Percy responded, “No, I don’t believe I saw anyone...though I think I heard someone mutter something before I blacked out.”

At this, Hermione clenched her fists tightly while Ron and Ginny turned pale.

“What’s going on?” Percy demanded. “You said I was at home?”

“Early this morning, someone pretending to be you Flooed to the Burrow,” Hermione explained hurriedly, beads of anxious sweat breaking out on her forehead. “We spoke to him, thinking it was you—oh no!” She covered her mouth with trembling hands.

Alarmed, Percy sat bolt upright in bed, panic blooming across his face at Hermione’s stricken look. “Someone’s impersonating me right now?”

Though no one answered, Ginny’s horrified gasp of “Mum and Dad—Harry!” confirmed his worst fears.

Percy leapt from his bed, and without a moment to lose, they all sprinted from the ward.

“I’ll be back, Augustus!” Percy called over his shoulder, leaving a bewildered Healer behind.

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The Burrow was eerily silent when they Apparated back outside. Even the gnomes hiding under the rose bushes seemed hushed. Leading the group, Hagrid tramped toward the house as quickly and quietly as he could, the teens close behind. He slowly pushed open the front door, pink umbrella raised defensively.

An ominous stillness filled the house. The kitchen was in shambles, with chairs strewn across the floor amid shattered glass and broken dishes. Cracked, jagged windows hung in their frames. Hagrid’s sharp intake of breath drew the teens’ attention. They gasped upon seeing Mr. and Mrs. Weasley lying unconscious on the floor, wands just beyond their reach.

Ginny rushed to her parents’ sides, tears welling in her eyes. “Mum? Dad?” she called, her voice quivering as she checked their pulses with relief. “It seems they fought back before being stunned.”

Hagrid quietly surveyed the small kitchen. “But wha’ happened ’ere?” Before anyone could respond, a chilling chuckle and cry of pain echoed from the living room. They hurried toward the sound but froze, color draining from their faces.

Percy Weasley sat in the chair with his arms and legs crossed, wearing the smug expression of a self-satisfied politician awaiting his next appointment. Clearly this impostor had used Polyjuice Potion to resemble Percy. The real Percy raised his wand, poised to strike his doppelganger. But the fake Percy tilted his head toward Harry, who lay doubled over writhing in agony.

“Amusing how a few drops of this potion can cause such pain,” mused the impostor, examining the vial’s remaining liquid. He didn’t acknowledge the small crowd facing him, nor their five wands aimed his way. Reclining in the chair, he acted as if enjoying a pleasant visit, seemingly unfazed and unsurprised by their presence.

Ron strained against Hagrid’s tight grip, nearly breaking free in his fury to attack the impostor who had Harry. Through gritted teeth, Ron hissed, “Who are you and what have you done to Harry?”

The impostor only grinned menacingly in response.

When the impostor yanked Harry’s head up sharply, displaying his pain, Hagrid barked, “Don’t you dare touch him!” Hagrid lunged at the impostor, only to be frozen in midair with a flick of the impostor’s wrist.

Ron’s rage boiled over; sparks flew from the tip of his wand as he struggled to contain himself.

Hagrid’s growls fell on deaf ears as the fake Percy flashed a cruel, gloating smile. “I poisoned him,” he replied casually to Ron. “You’ve no idea how long I’ve waited to hear his screams and watch him writhe in agony.” He paused, seeming to relish Harry’s cries of pain.

“Why are you doing this?” Hermione asked, distraught. She took a tentative step toward the impostor but halted when he tilted the vial of poison toward Harry’s lips in warning.

Without preamble, the impostor drew another vial from his pocket and downed the contents, his appearance shifting rapidly. Before their eyes, his curly red hair lengthened into long, pale blond locks that braided themselves neatly down his back. His freckled features hardened into blunt angles, though the unpleasant smile remained.

Hermione felt sick as her insides plunged, while Ginny and Percy gasped in horror at the sight of the Death Eater. Hagrid shot him angry glares.

Ron inhaled sharply and muttered “Corban Yaxley” under his breath.

“That’s right,” Yaxley said casually as he leaned back in his chair. “I rather like that place you three tried to Disapparate from the last time you were at the Ministry impersonating others. I’ve kept it for hiding—very useful indeed.”

“G—grim… mauld pl—ace isn’t… y—yours to keep,” Harry croaked weakly, writhing continuously from the intensifying poison. He cried out as Yaxley kicked his back.

Yaxley chuckled softly. “Oh, but it’s mine now. You took what was important to me, so I’ll take yours. The Dark Lord had plans, and you ruined them.”

Ron looked murderous, as if he wanted to strangle Yaxley. Hermione and Ginny, on the verge of tears, slowly advanced with their wands held high and steady.

Yaxley mocked, “Oh, I heard Harry’s dying.” Holding up the poison, he added with malicious glee, “This will speed up the process, won’t it? But more painfully.” His eyes glinting with cruelty, Yaxley grinned evilly before Disapparating with a flick of his wand.

Ron cried out in distress, “No!” But Hermione and Ginny instantly dropped their wands to rush to Harry’s side. The real Percy cast the countercurse on Hagrid to free him from paralysis.

“Harry…” Hagrid scooped the limp Harry into his arms, the boy’s breathing wheezing heavily as cries of pain still echoed around the living room. With Harry tucked safely against the giant’s broad chest, Ginny dashed to the kitchen to tend to her still unconscious parents.

Percy began muttering a repair charm, his features twisted in rage, to mend the damage done to the house.

“Hagrid, we must take Harry to St. Mungo’s immediately!” Hermione yelled in a panic, visibly shaking.

Percy paused his mutterings and told Hermione, “There’s a Portkey that will take you straight to the hospital lobby.” He rushed to the kitchen and returned with an outdated Witch Weekly magazine, tossing it to Ron. “I’ll stay here and update the Minister,” Percy explained.

Hermione conjured stretchers for Mr. and Mrs. Weasley as Hagrid held Harry, murmuring words of comfort. They gathered around the Portkey, touching the magazine. Suddenly, it whisked them away.

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Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were being treated in one room, while Harry was placed in a more secluded ward down the hall. Augustus Pye assisted the Weasley family once again upon their chaotic arrival in the lobby, fumbling over his words as if not expecting to see the couple unconscious on separate stretchers. He quickly helped get them settled into rooms. Ron stared at Augustus, wondering if the healer found it strange that his family kept returning to the hospital in such terrible shape, as though constantly living a life of danger and instability.

Harry’s tortured screams echoed through the lobby as the Healers arrived, shocked by the sight before them. The Boy Who Lived, expected to finally be living free of harm after the war, was instead deathly pale and trembling violently, gasping frantically for air as his dilated pupils betrayed the agonizing pain wracking his body.

Hermione, breathless with panic, shuffled to the front desk again. “Help, quickly! Harry’s been poisoned!”

The blonde witch, looking bored, jolted in surprise upon hearing the name. “Harry? You mean Harry Potter?” she asked incredulously.

“Yes!” Hermione snapped impatiently. “He needs help immediately!”

With a yelp, the blonde witch called for Healers, who rushed in and whisked Harry away from Hagrid. She then instructed the rest of them to go to the fourth floor waiting room, but Hagrid ignored her, pushing past the protesting Healers to stay with Harry.

Inside the waiting room, Hermione paced anxiously as Ron huddled silently in a corner, lost in thought about the recent attacks. Ginny wrung her hands, face etched with worry. Three Weasleys had been assaulted, and no one yet understood what had happened.

“We must act quickly and brew the antidote potion,” Hermione said fretfully. “Even if the Healers can formulate an antidote, I fear the poison may be too much for Harry in his weakened state. It could become irreversible.”

“I wouldn’t want to think that either,” said Ginny, distress in her voice. “But Hermione has a point. If they don’t remove all the poison, it could worsen Harry’s illness. I’m worried he might not handle it well this time.”

“The Healers have all kinds of powerful antidotes that can cure even rare poisons,” Ron countered. “We’re in a hospital—they won’t let Harry die without a fight. That Yaxley!” He burst out, rage on his face. “I’ll kill that bastard if I see him again. I’m sure he and Malfoy were behind the attacks. We must confront Malfoy soon. He can’t get away with this. I’ll ensure he goes to Azkaban!”

To be continued...