Hagrid remained at Harry’s side as he was treated, unwilling to leave after witnessing the boy’s terrible ordeal. The healers tried in vain to persuade the giant man to depart, too intimidated by his imposing presence to force him from the ward. They cast him nervous glances as they worked, muttering anxiously to themselves and shaking their heads at Harry’s test results. Though irked that the healers avoided speaking with him about Harry’s condition, Hagrid stood steadfast in his vigil.
Overcome by waves of nausea, Harry repeatedly doubled over to vomit over the side of his bed. Hagrid rubbed Harry’s back and helped settle him back against the pillows as Harry’s breathing grew increasingly labored. Gripping Hagrid’s massive hand tightly, Harry held on.
Hagrid tenderly caressed Harry’s forehead, seeing the tear-filled eyes gazing back at him without glasses. Harry’s pained expressions silently communicated his distress. “I’ll stay right here. I won’t go anywhere,” Hagrid said comfortingly, gently squeezing Harry’s hand. Another tear escaped Harry’s eyes.
The scenes replayed agonizingly before Hagrid as Harry struggled to breathe, the antidotes failing to counteract the poison despite their potency. Dry heaves and gasps for air continued to wrack Harry’s body as the Healers helplessly tried to administer more remedies.
Hagrid tried to reassure Harry as another wave of poison sent him into convulsions. “It’s goin’ ter be okay,” he said, though his voice cracked with emotion. He wanted to be strong for Harry, but tears filled his eyes at the sight of his suffering. Though he had seen Harry endure worse, nothing compared to this. The damage to his soul was its own torment, one Hagrid dreaded to imagine. To Hagrid, Harry was like a son. He longed to comfort him through this ordeal, though it pained him to witness such anguish. Still, he knew Harry well enough to recognize the fortitude behind his struggle.
One of the Healers entered the ward with a vial of potion in hand. After reviewing Harry’s diagnostics, he nodded and administered the potion.
“Wha’ is that?” Hagrid asked, frowning.
Looking up at Hagrid’s huge form, the Healer explained, “We strongly suspect the poison Mr. Potter ingested is from the Angel’s Trumpet plant. It contains high levels of toxins that can be fatal if consumed, as you can see.”
The Healer conjured a syringe and needle, then injected the tip into Harry’s arm, eliciting a slight moan as Harry felt a twinge of discomfort. “This potent antidote counters even rare, deadly poisons,” the Healer explained. “It will halt the poisoning’s damage and help reverse its effects.”
“So this’ll get rid of the poison?” Hagrid asked anxiously.
The Healer grimly warned, “We can remove the poison, but Harry will endure excruciating pain, like regrowing bones. The antidote will torment him for days.”
Hagrid winced, dreading Harry’s agony. “Can we give Harry anythin’ fer the pain? Maybe a sleepin’ draught?”
“I’m afraid not,” the Healer regretfully replied. “The antidote must work alone to counteract this poison. Once neutralized, we can make Harry comfortable.”
After that, the Healer retreated, leaving Hagrid with Harry.
Harry’s eyes were shut tight as he clenched and unclenched his fists, his knuckles turning white from the pressure. He could feel the antidote taking effect, stabbing pains shooting through his body.
Hagrid reached over and placed a hand on Harry’s arm, sighing deeply. “Harry...” he said, his voice choked with emotion.
----------------------------------------
Many hours later, Harry awoke to find Hagrid dozing uncomfortably beside him as he lay curled on the bed. Trying not to disturb Hagrid, Harry stirred slowly, only to realize that moving deliberately was all his sore body could manage. Despite Harry’s care, Hagrid must have felt him shifting and opened his eyes in alarm, wildly scanning their surroundings.
“Harry,” Hagrid said in a hushed voice.
Harry smiled awkwardly at Hagrid’s tear-stained face. “Hey, Hagrid. Sorry if I woke you,” he said quietly. He leaned against Hagrid’s bulky arm, his body still sluggish and weak.
“It’s alright. How’re yeh feelin’?” asked Hagrid, examining Harry’s frail state with concern.
“Like I was hit by a full body-bind curse,” Harry replied wryly. “I’m stiff as a board.” He attempted to lift his arm but was met with shooting pains. Wincing, he lowered it carefully, trying not to exacerbate his injuries.
“I reckon tha’s the antidote workin’,” said Hagrid. “The poison’ll be gone soon, I expect.”
Looking around the unfamiliar room, Harry nodded. “Are we in St. Mungo’s, Hagrid?” he asked curiously, noticing it was a private room just for him, unlike the usual wards that accommodated multiple patients. He felt grateful to the Healers for this favor, as he wouldn’t want snooping visitors anyway.
“Yeah, we brought yeh here,” Hagrid replied.
Harry furrowed his brows. “We?”
“Yer friends, Harry.”
Expecting Ron, Hermione, and Ginny to enter, Harry glanced at the silent door. “Where are they?” he asked.
“In the waitin’ room, I reckon,” answered Hagrid in a thoughtful voice. “The Healers refused visitors.”
“But you’re here,” Harry said quickly.
Hagrid cleared his throat. “They made an exception fer me since I wasn’t leavin’ yer,” he stated matter-of-factly, wrapping an arm around Harry, who smiled gratefully before lowering his gaze to the tiled floor. Looking guilty, Hagrid added, “I think I scared ’em when I checked mself in earlier.”
Harry whipped his head around to look at Hagrid, wincing as his neck protested the sudden movement. “Checked yourself in?” he asked, eyes widening as he noticed the bandages on Hagrid’s arms and chest. “Hagrid, what happened?”
“I was attacked, you see,” Hagrid responded quietly as he retold the story about what happened in the cave and how he had escaped just in time to Apparate to the hospital. “I sent a letter ter Ron n’ told him where I was.”
“But are you okay, Hagrid?” asked Harry, his voice filled with concern. “I’m sorry if we caused you so much trouble. We shouldn’t have—”
“I’m alrigh’,” he replied dismissively. “It’s yeh I’m worried about. Ron an’ Hermione sure gave me a heart attack when I found out about yer soul. I wanted ter come an’ see yeh meself… and now I’m ‘ere with yeh.” Hagrid sniffed and wiped a tear away from his eyes. He looked down at Harry and brought his massive arms around him. “I got the tail hair,” he continued with a small smile. “I gave it ter Hermione. You’re goin ’ ter be okay now, Harry. They’ll brew the potion an’ you’ll be healthy again.”
“Thank you, Hagrid,” Harry said sincerely, briefly wondering if Ron and Hermione had mentioned to Hagrid that Harry wasn’t the one who drank the potion.
Harry’s head snapped up when the door slowly opened to reveal Ron, Hermione, and Ginny quietly entering the ward.
“Harry!” they whispered in unison, rushing to stand around him. Ginny immediately embraced and kissed him. Harry held her hand as Hagrid beamed at the couple.
“We’re not supposed to be here now, but we couldn’t wait to see how you’re doing, mate,” Ron said breathlessly. “So much has happened. You’re gonna freak out.”
“How are you feeling?” Hermione asked anxiously.
“The antidote seems to be working, though I’m still sore all over,” Harry said as he shifted to a more comfortable position. “Hagrid told me what happened in the Thestral cave.”
Ron immediately asked, “Do you think Malfoy was behind it?” Hermione let out an involuntary sigh. “I’ve been dying to get your take on this, mate.”
Without hesitation, Harry replied, “No, it wasn’t Malfoy.” He thought Ron looked at him as if the poison had damaged his brain.
“You’re joking, aren’t you?” Ron asked incredulously.
Harry shook his head. “Malfoy warned me about the dangers in the cave, but he didn’t attack Hagrid.”
Hermione pursed her lips, looking doubtful. “How can you be so sure, Harry?” she asked. “I also suspect there were other Death Eaters behind the attack, though Malfoy wasn’t one of them. I’m still uncertain.”
“Because I know he wouldn’t betray me,” said Harry calmly. “He wanted to repay his debt even if that meant talking his way to Mr. Weasley and coming to the Burrow to speak with me. I know he did what he came to do, without pretense.”
Ron asked a little too eagerly, a hint of frustration in his voice, as if he still wanted to make his point. “But aren’t you going to question his motives? I mean, he could just be faking it and setting you up.”
Harry shook his head again. “His only motive was to return the favor. His obligation to repay his debt is done.”
Ron asked uncomfortably, his eyebrows furrowed, “Are you saying you trust him?”
“No, not trust,” Harry denied. Noticing Ron’s growing annoyance, he quickly explained, “I’m merely saying that despite our rivalry, Malfoy is intelligent enough to have acted on what he thought was the right thing to do.”
“I could never consider Malfoy a friend, no matter what you say,” Ron said darkly. “He will always be an arrogant, spiteful bully and spoiled brat. And—” he added before stopping himself, “he’s a coward like his father.”
Harry nodded in understanding. “He is,” Harry agreed, “but I stand by what I said. If he was lying to me, it would only make things worse for him. He’s already dealing with a lot. More problems would be the last thing he needs.”
“So you think Yaxley is acting alone?” Ginny asked, burning with curiosity.
As Harry opened his mouth to respond, the door opened again and Kingsley Shacklebolt entered, followed closely by Percy and an irritated Healer who glared at everyone in the room.
“What do you think you’re doing?” the Healer demanded in a high-pitched voice. “Mr. Potter needs rest, and only two visitors are allowed. Out!” She shouted at the group gathered around Harry, but the Minister stopped her with a calming hand, explaining they needed to interrogate Harry and his friends. With an irritated sigh, the Healer cursed her way out.
This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
“Harry Potter,” rumbled Kingsley’s deep voice. “I’m sorry to intrude, but Percy here immediately informed me of what happened.” Percy held his head high as the Minister acknowledged him while Ron rolled his eyes.
“We were just discussing it, Minister,” Hermione informed Kingsley.
Kingsley smiled at her. “Please, there’s no need to be formal. Call me Kingsley.” Everyone relaxed and returned his smile. “Tell me what happened, if you would,” he said, motioning for Hermione to begin.
“Yesterday, Draco Malfoy came to the Weasley’s house to speak with Harry. He said he owed Harry his life for saving him. In short, he repaid his debt by revealing the location of an ingredient we needed for a potion to mend Harry’s soul—a cave in Ireland. We immediately told Hagrid, thinking he could help too.”
“Then this morning,” she continued without pausing, “Percy suddenly visited the Weasley house. We only realized too late that he was an imposter. Hagrid had sent us a letter saying he was attacked in the cave Malfoy told us about and was being treated here in the hospital. We were about to return to the Burrow when Healer Augustus Pye told us Percy was here as well... That’s how we learned someone was impersonating him.”
Percy hissed, drawing everyone’s brief attention before Hermione resumed speaking. “When we arrived home, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley lay unconscious on the floor, and the impostor had poisoned Harry. Then he showed his true self and turned out to be Corban Yaxley. He Disapparated shortly after that.”
“And where are Molly and Arthur now?” Kingsley asked, stroking his chin thoughtfully.
“Still unconscious in the next room over,” Ginny announced. “But they’ve received medical care.”
Kingsley removed his hand from his chin and folded his arms into his sleeves, his attention back on Hermione. “When you said ‘we only knew too late’ that Percy was being impersonated,” he said slowly, “what exactly do you mean?”
Hermione looked regretful for a moment before sighing. “When Percy’s impostor saw that Harry was sick, he asked what happened… and I—” She hesitated, suddenly embarrassed. “I told him everything… how Harry got sick, the ingredients for his cure, even about Draco’s visit...” She faltered, her eyes filling with tears as she looked at Harry remorsefully. “Oh, I messed up so badly. I’m so sorry.”
Harry waved his hand dismissively and consoled her, “Don’t blame yourself, Hermione. None of us realized he was an imposter, not the real Percy. You couldn’t have known.”
Hermione shook her head, her lip trembling as she struggled to finish her thought. “But he could use that information against you,” she said before bursting into tears.
Ron gently comforted her, “Harry’s right. It’s not your fault, we were all fooled.”
“But he may come back and hurt you again or any of us—”
Kingsley assured Hermione, “I will inform the Aurors about this as soon as I return. Yaxley will face severe reprimand and imprisonment in Azkaban.” Turning his attention to Percy, Kingsley asked, “Did you notice anything unusual before the attack in your office, Percy?”
“No, sir,” Percy answered honestly. “I only remember a faint voice. The next thing I knew, I was in the hospital and Ron and Ginny had found me.”
Crossing his arms, Kingsley thought hard. “It seems Yaxley may have planned the cave attack in advance. But wasn’t he at the Weasley home when you received Hagrid’s letter?”
“Yes,” Ron and Ginny replied together.
Kingsley cocked his head to one side, looking at them inquisitively. “But how did Yaxley find out about the cave?”
“The night Draco Malfoy told us about the cave,” Hermione explained, “Ron immediately sent a letter to inform Hagrid. Later, Hagrid said his owl looked roughed up when it returned. We wondered if Ron’s owl had been intercepted.”
“Aye, the owl looked right weird when I saw him las’ night,” Hagrid added after a long silence. “Looked like someone had searched him by force.”
Hermione nodded. “We think they read Ron’s letter and that’s how they learned about the cave.”
Kingsley turned to Percy again and ordered, “Percy, double-check the protective enchantments at the Burrow, not just on the fireplace. If Yaxley Disapparated inside your house, he must have breached the protections. For now, I will arrange for Aurors to regularly guard your home.”
“Yes, sir,” Percy replied eagerly.
“As for Draco Malfoy,” Kingsley said thoughtfully. “ I have my suspicions, but he is being tracked and is aware of it. We will be able to determine his whereabouts yesterday. Harry, do you think he is working with Yaxley?”
Harry explained his reasons to Kingsley, reiterating what he had told his friends earlier about his belief that Malfoy wasn’t a traitor.
“Despite how crazy it may seem,” Harry said, running his fingers through his hair, “I still find it difficult to believe Malfoy would betray me if his sole reason for coming here was to repay his debt. While Yaxley certainly has allies, I want to think Malfoy is not among them.”
Kingsley nodded in understanding.
“I’m not saying this just because I owe Narcissa Malfoy,” Harry went on. “But I highly doubt her son would do anything to damage their family’s already bad reputation.”
“It would be reckless and stupid, yes,” agreed Kingsley. “The Malfoys’ unwavering decision to switch sides was certainly calculated, and we still view their strategy with suspicion, but—” He cleared his throat and looked directly at Harry, who met his gaze evenly. “If your account proves true and the Malfoys have genuinely turned against the dark side, then I will reconsider and give them a chance in society. Would you present your testimony in the Malfoys’ favor, Harry?”
Everyone looked at Harry. It was clear they all opposed the Malfoys, and only Harry was willing to advocate for them. Harry didn’t know if his account would convince the Minister, but it was worth trying.
Harry took a deep, steadying breath and began. “On the night of the Battle of Hogwarts, I was captured by Voldemort. Narcissa Malfoy betrayed Voldemort by lying that I was dead after I quietly told her that her son Draco was still alive. At the time, I was sprawled helplessly on the ground before her. Without Narcissa’s lie, Voldemort likely would have killed me. So in that moment, she saved my life by defying Voldemort to protect her family. This proved that despite outward appearances, her true loyalty was always to her family over Voldemort. I know she cared only for her family, but her lie made a critical difference in sparing my life that night.”
Kingsley listened pensively but did not respond.
“Also,” Harry continued, “once the battle resumed, Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy abandoned the Death Eaters to search for their son. I believe the Malfoy family was later reunited in the Great Hall after the war ended.” Harry finished his account and waited patiently for Kingsley’s response as the others held their breath.
“Thank you for testifying, Harry,” Kingsley said. “Your account changed my view of the Malfoys. It altered events, especially in your life. Therefore, I will grant them clemency and revoke any Azkaban sentence. However, they must still face justice for past crimes. No criminal can roam free without consequences.”
“I knew you’d be reasonable,” Harry said, smiling back at him.
“Well, it’s rare we talk, Harry, so I wanted to end positively.” Kingsley reached into his pocket and pulled out a small pouch. “This is the stone fragment needed for your potion,” he said, handing it to Harry, who looked surprised.
“I wasn’t expecting you to have it now. Thank you!” Harry replied.
“Anytime, Harry,” Kingsley said. “Besides, I expect to see you at Auror Headquarters soon, working hard. It’s time you show them your skill, eh?”
“I think we could all agree Harry has shown enough skill to land the position as the next Head of the Aurors. Don’t you agree, Minister?” Hermione proudly said while Harry looked away, blushing slightly.
“I concur, Ms. Granger,” Kingsley said. “My office in a week, Potter. Don’t be late!”
Harry looked surprised, but Kingsley just chuckled and waved goodbye as he exited.
“That’s just it,” said Ron, his voice colored with frustration. “You don’t have to worry about job applications, but I still do. Take the offer and then hire me as your assistant, would you?”
Just then, the angry-looking Healer marched back into the ward as the Minister departed, shouting, “This boy needs rest, for Merlin’s sake! Out! OUT!” Even Hagrid was ordered to leave, and he reluctantly followed the others.
Alone now, Harry had nothing to distract him from the stabbing pains spreading through his body once more.
----------------------------------------
The next morning, Harry awoke abruptly in the brightly lit ward and cried out loudly in agony; his entire body now seared as if engulfed in flames. Startled from sleep, he noticed a cluster of people hovering anxiously around his bed, murmuring frantically. Wincing against the surge of torment, he clenched his teeth tightly.
“Harry, are you alright?”
Someone gently slid his glasses over his eyes, bringing the scene into focus. His friends surrounded him, along with the familiar round-faced Neville. Though eager to sit up, the intense pain immobilized him.
“Neville,” Harry rasped with difficulty, his parched throat constricting his voice.
Neville explained, “I didn’t know you were admitted here last night until my gran showed me a Witch Weekly article about you this morning.” He passed Harry the magazine, which had a moving photo of Hagrid carrying Harry through the hospital lobby. Apparently someone had snapped a picture as they waited to check in. The flashy headline read, “The-Boy-Who-Disappeared Finally Spotted at St. Mungo’s Hospital.”
“That Skeeter woman!” Hermione exclaimed angrily, not even glancing at the article. Her indignant expression suggested she had already read it. “I knew she would pull something like this again!” She heaved a heavy sigh, and Harry thought he heard her mutter something about trapping Rita Skeeter in an unbreakable jar.
“Yeah,” Neville said, looking at Harry with concern. “I was with my parents when I saw the article about you. Your picture looked so sickly that I had to come check if it was true.”
Harry hissed through clenched teeth, “Poisoned.”
“Poisoned?” Neville repeated in disbelief.
“Yes,” Ron said angrily. “Someone impersonated my brother and poisoned Harry.”
“Did you find out who did it?” Neville asked.
“Corban Yaxley,” Ron replied.
Neville’s eyes widened as he recalled the name. “Wasn’t he one of the Death Eaters who led the attack on the Astronomy Tower?”
Nodding to Neville, Hermione said, “Yes, I remember Harry hitting Yaxley with a Full Body-Bind Curse. Yaxley was arrested and sent to Azkaban, but escaped within weeks. When You-Know-Who seized control of the Ministry, he appointed Yaxley Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.”
Ron chimed in loathingly, “Yaxley’s a high-ranking Death Eater, part of You-Know-Who’s inner circle.”
Casting a disgusted look at the magazine, Hermione added worriedly, “Now that everyone knows Harry’s here at St. Mungo’s, I fear Death Eaters like Yaxley will attack the hospital.”
“Gran just said a crowd has gathered outside,” Neville said with a shudder.
“They’re likely here either to interrogate Harry about his health or kill him,” Ginny said anxiously.
“Yes,” Hermione agreed irritably. “Rita Skeeter clearly wrote in her article that ‘Harry’s dying in the arms of a fierce-looking man.’ Seriously, that woman—”
But her final words were drowned out as a different voice reverberated through the hospital, strong, cold, and clear. It seemed to emanate from the very walls themselves.
“I know that you’re afraid to come out,” the voice reverberated around them. Alarm plastered itself on their faces as they whirled around to find the source of the sound. “Death Eaters have fought valiantly alongside the Dark Lord. I deeply respect and honor those who have fallen. Their magical blood was spilled, but those still standing have yet to fulfill the true legacy the Dark Lord promised, a legacy destroyed by Harry Potter.”
Silence swallowed them. Heads inside the ward turned. From the open door, Harry saw healers and patients frozen mid-motion.
“Fellow Death Eaters,” the unmistakable voice of Yaxley continued, “do not be afraid. Let us reunite, revive our bonds, and complete our shared goal—to reshape this society. Our enemy’s location is known. Join me. Let us finish him once and for all.”
Before anyone could speak, the sound of tumultuous movement from outside St. Mungo’s reached their ears. Ron and Neville rushed to the window, crying out that the number of witches and wizards had doubled, with most trying to enter the hospital lobby.
“Was this Yaxley’s plan all along, to lure Harry out in public?” Ginny tried to ask calmly, though she seemed to be repressing panic.
Her question went unanswered as Neville spoke urgently, “Harry has to get out of here now!”
“Could we take him back to the Burrow?” Ron asked the group, grasping at large clumps of his red hair.
“No,” said Ginny, shaking her head and burying her face in her hands, “The Burrow isn’t safe right now. Percy and Kingsley have yet to place more protection charms and Aurors around the house.”
“Where else could we hide him, then?”
“This is just a suggestion,” Hermione said quietly and urgently, “but maybe we could ask Bill and Fleur if we could stay at Shell Cottage!”
“Yeah,” Ron said quickly, “we’ve been there before. I hope they won’t mind. How will we get there then?”
“Well,” Ginny said frantically, nearly hysterical, “Harry’s in no state to Apparate there, and Portkeys can be uncomfortable - but that’s our only option. I think there’s one at the Burrow.”
“Yeah, I know where it is. I can get it,” Ron volunteered resolutely.
“I’ll come with you,” Hermione said at once. “I need to get the Anima book and my beaded bag. The Invisibility Cloak is in there, and we have to brew the potion right away.”
They all nodded.
“I’ll stand guard here with Ginny until you both get back,” Neville said bravely. “Please hurry!”
“I need to tell Mum and Dad about our plan,” said Ginny, “and let them know we’re leaving very soon. I’m sure Percy could look after them.”
Neville watched Ginny and the others leave, leaving him alone with Harry. He paced nervously in front of Harry as tense silence stretched between them for several minutes until Neville jumped when the door opened.
Ginny returned with Hagrid in tow. They whirled around when Harry suddenly cried out in pain, a look of horror in his eyes as he gazed at Ginny. Understanding crossed her face as it paled, blood draining away as she stammered, “Oh, Harry… no, not now—” but her voice was drowned out by Harry’s renewed screams.
To be continued...