Morning sunlight streamed through the window in Harry’s room. Surprisingly, Harry felt unusually good that morning. Though he hardly ate much anymore, this time he finished breakfast complaining of a full stomach.

“It’s good to see your appetite back,” said Mrs. Weasley, clearly pleased to see Harry eating normally again.

This sudden burst of health and interest in food seemed odd to Harry. Truthfully, he had no idea what was happening to his damaged soul. He had felt ill for three straight weeks, and now it was as if he had never been ill at all. The change had started to scare him, yet at the same time, it was something he had wanted and needed in his life for a change, allowing him not to worry.

Harry laid back down on his bed with his friends around him. After breakfast, they had gone straight to Harry’s room to discuss how best to tell Hagrid and Mr. Weasley about the ingredients, as they had previously decided the two ought to hear about their plans.

“Wouldn’t it be better to visit Hagrid in person and ask about the Thestral hair, instead of sending him an owl?” Harry suggested, recalling Ron’s earlier enthusiasm to contact Hagrid first thing the next morning.

“Hagrid would love to see us, I’m sure,” Hermione replied. But Harry doubted Hagrid would be pleased once he learned why they wanted to visit. “I wonder how he’s getting on these days...”

Ron gave a derisive snort. “He’s probably out in the forest again, minding Grawp. Reckon that oaf’s learned any more manners, or picked up another word of English? I’d pay to hear it.”

“Grawp was a great help to Hagrid during the war,” Hermione said matter-of-factly. “It shows how much more docile he has become.”

“Docile?” Ron scoffed incredulously.

“The last time I saw him, he was at Hogwarts with the students, who were gleefully tossing food into his laughing mouth,” said Ginny absently as she played with Harry’s already messy hair.

“Sure,” said Ron sarcastically. “Next thing you know, Grawp will be taking over Hagrid’s teaching job. That would be brilliant.”

Harry chuckled but Hermione just rolled her eyes in exasperation.

“Speaking of teaching,” she said thoughtfully, “I wonder if Hagrid will want to continue as Care of Magical Creatures professor?”

“I assume he will,” Ron replied. “He loved teaching after all. We can ask him about his plans when we visit.”

“Should we go see him today?” Hermione asked suddenly. “We’re in a hurry to gather potion ingredients. It may take time for Hagrid to find a wild thestral, not to mention he’d have to travel abroad.”

“First, will he even agree if we ask?” Ron said hesitantly. “Minding Grawp while he’s away would be unpleasant.”

Harry pointed out, “That’s probably what Hagrid’s going to do. He asked us to take care of Grawp before, remember?”

“Let’s not worry about it until we talk to Hagrid,” said Hermione, as though they had finally reached a conclusion. “So, are we agreeing that we’ll visit Hagrid today?”

“I don’t see why not,” Ron said quickly.

Ginny glanced worriedly at Harry and said, “No offense, Harry, but do you feel up to traveling?”

“I think I can,” he said confidently, although he wasn’t entirely sure himself. “Besides, I miss Hagrid.”

But Harry was sure Ginny was unconvinced when she bit her lip, and he noticed Hermione look away anxiously after sharing a glance with Ginny.

Hermione looked at Harry with concern and said firmly, “As much as you want to see Hagrid, I don’t think you should come. I can’t believe I forgot you were sick.”

Harry replied insistently, though his heart ached at the thought of missing Hagrid, “But I’m not ill. I feel fine today.” He tried to appear convincing.

“Sorry, mate,” Ron said. “But I agree with Hermione, it’s too risky. I wouldn’t want to have to carry you if you fainted.”

Harry frowned in frustration. “I’m not going to have another attack, not now. I told you, I feel fine.”

Ron just snorted in disbelief.

“Harry,” Ginny said, “I could tell something was off with you. That burning feeling seemed to come and go unpredictably. It’s happened before at odd times, so I figured it out—you can’t hide something like that. But I understand you didn’t want anyone to know.”

Harry remained unmoved. “But I haven’t seen—”

“Hagrid will understand, Harry,” Hermione interjected gently, looking into his emerald eyes.

“He’ll probably come bursting in here when he finds out you’re sick,” said Ron, trying to lift Harry’s spirits even though his words sounded ominous.

Harry glared at them, hating the helplessness he felt at being unable to do as he wished, the frustration of falling ill unpredictably. “Fine!” he snapped, folding his arms angrily.

Ginny stated firmly that she would not be joining them. Harry looked at her in surprise, though he already understood her reasons.

“I knew that’s what you would say,” Hermione said knowingly.

Ron shot Harry and Ginny a threatening look. “Don’t you two do anything while we’re gone,” he warned.

“And what exactly do you mean by that?” Ginny asked sharply. “You won’t even be here, so how could you know if something happened?”

Ron started to retort, but Hermione stopped him. “Now, we need to discuss your father,” she said, looking at Ron and Ginny.

“What about him?” Ron asked irritably, still upset with his sister.

“We’ll wait for you to come back before speaking with him,” Ginny replied. Hermione nodded in agreement.

“Be careful what information you share with your father,” Harry said suddenly, avoiding their gaze. “If he finds out your plan to brew that potion, he may react worse than I did.”

Hermione spoke openly, “We’ll tell him some details, but not all.”

“Oh, you mean to leave out the part where you ingest the potion and risk your life?” Harry asked, his face twisted in contempt.

“Yes, that’s right,” she said calmly, not wanting to argue.

“Great,” said Harry sarcastically. “I look forward to seeing that.”

“What’s gotten into you?” Ron asked, frowning disapprovingly.

Harry just shrugged.

“Don’t worry about him,” Ginny said. “He’s upset that he can’t visit Hagrid.”

Harry glared at her. “I already said I’m fine,” he insisted.

“You’ll see Hagrid again soon, Harry,” Hermione said reassuringly, but Harry was clearly unconvinced.

After a minute of awkward silence, Hermione stood up. “We should get going, Ron,” she said. With that, the two left the room, leaving Harry and Ginny alone together.

----------------------------------------

An hour later, Ron and Hermione arrived in Horace Slughorn’s spacious office via the fireplace Floo network, seeking a quick journey to Hogwarts. Glancing around the familiar room where Slughorn often hosted parties, they saw the usual two large sofas, but no sign of the professor himself.

“Where do you reckon he’s at?” Ron asked after finding the office empty.

“He’s probably brewing potions in his lab,” Hermione replied. “Remember when Mrs. Weasley asked him for more Healing potions for Harry?”

Leaving the office, they passed through silent corridors and by the empty Great Hall uninterrupted, descending six floors to the dungeons below.

“It’s strange to see the castle so empty,” Ron remarked as they walked through the quiet corridors. “But I’m glad they’ve managed to repair most of the damage from the war.”

Hermione scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Of course they fixed it. It would be impossible to study if the classrooms were still littered with rubble.”

Exiting the castle, they could already make out Hagrid’s hut in the distance. When they reached the wooden door, they knocked, and heard Fang’s excited barks within.

The door creaked open to reveal Hagrid’s hairy face peering out through the crack. His eyes widened in delight when he recognized them. “Ron! Hermione!” he boomed happily, enveloping them both in bone-cracking hugs. “Come in, come in!”

“Hi, Hagrid!” Hermione greeted him with a smile. Hagrid’s enormous black boarhound, bounding straight to Ron, started licking his ears affectionately as always.

“What are you two doin’ ’ere?” Hagrid asked, looking surprised by their sudden visit. He offered them tea, which they gratefully accepted, and they sat down in his oversized armchair.

“We miss you, and we thought we’d come by for a visit,” Hermione said brightly, hoping Hagrid wouldn’t notice Harry’s absence.

Unfortunately, Hagrid asked, “Thanks, Hermione. But where’s Harry? He’s comin’, isn’t he?”

Ron and Hermione exchanged glances before she spoke. “Uh...no, Hagrid. He’s resting right now.”

“Restin’?” he asked curiously.

Ron managed to say, “He’s really sick.”

Hagrid’s thick brow twitched as he frowned slightly and said, “Sick?”

“Actually, he’s the reason we came, Hagrid,” said Hermione, suddenly serious. “We need your help.”

“I’ve known Harry fer years an’ I knew most o’ the injuries he’s endured, but the way you said it, Hermione, it mus’ be grave... What happened ter him?”

Hermione took a deep breath. “His soul is damaged.”

The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

Hagrid raised his eyebrows. “Soul? What d’yeh mean it’s damaged?”

“Do you remember when Voldemort killed Harry’s parents when he was a baby?” she asked.

Hagrid nodded.

“Well, that fateful night when You-Know-Who’s curse backfired, he accidentally transferred a fragment of his own soul into Harry, unwittingly transforming the boy into a Horcrux.”

Hagrid looked puzzled at the mention of “Horcrux”, but he remained silent.

“When you thought Harry had died in the Forbidden Forest during the battle,” Hermione continued, “it was actually Voldemort destroying the piece of his soul that resided within Harry… that’s why Harry survived. But—” She paused as Hagrid emitted a low groan, his eyes darkening grimly, though he motioned for her to go on.

“A Horcrux is an object containing a Dark wizard’s fractured soul. Once a Horcrux invades and attaches to another living being, like it did to Harry, it damages the host soul, even if the Horcrux itself is later destroyed.”

“And now Harry is suffering...he’s dying, Hagrid,” said Ron sadly.

Hagrid was speechless for a moment, only able to utter a single word. “No,” he said. “Tha’s got ter be the worst thing I’ve ever heard in my life… and I’ve heard many terrible things, but nothin’ like this. He must be in so much pain.”

“He’s not hurting all the time,” Ron said. “He’s had good days when he felt alright, but lately he’s been in a terrible state. He’s losing his memories and throwing up blood. You can’t even imagine, Hagrid. Watching him suffer like this is agonizing.”

“Yes,” Hermione added. “We were looking for a way to heal his soul.”

“Did yer find anythin’?” Hagrid asked quickly, a glimmer of hope in his eyes.

“Yes,” she replied. “Professor Slughorn helped us find a book with instructions on brewing a tricky potion. We need to locate the ingredients, and that’s where we require your assistance, Hagrid.”

Hagrid raised his eyebrows. “Wha’ do I need ter do?” he asked eagerly. “I would do anythin’ ter help Harry.”

Hermione requested, “We need a tail hair from a Thestral.”

Hagrid initially sighed with relief and responded, “Oh, tha’ should be easy. We have plenty o’ Thestrals ’ere at Hogwarts.”

But Hermione shook her head and clarified, “No, Hagrid, we need a wild Thestral.”

“Wild?” Hagrid asked with a frown.

“Yes,” confirmed Hermione. “Do you know where we could find one?”

Hagrid fell silent, pondering deeply where to locate a wild Thestral.

“I think I know where,” he said after a while. “They’re very rare... and yeh have ter be an experienced wizard before yeh try n’ handle ’em.”

“You’d be able to, wouldn’t you?” Ron asked for confirmation before he could stop himself.

“O’ course,” he said proudly. “Only it’ll be a bit o’ a challenge, I must say. When d’yeh need it?”

“As soon as possible,” Hermione said quickly.

Hagrid nodded making note of his task. “I would want ter come n’ see Harry for meself when I have the tail hair,” he told them.

Hermione smiled. “He’d like that, Hagrid. He was upset that he couldn’t come and talk to you.”

“Well, tell him I’m comin’ soon, will yeh?”

Ron and Hermione nodded in agreement. They stayed and chatted with Hagrid for a few more hours before deciding to head home. They learned that Hagrid would be teaching Care of Magical Creatures again next term, which thrilled him. However, he was less enthusiastic when Hermione said she would not be taking his class for her final year.

Hagrid also mentioned his half-brother Grawp now preferred living in a cave near Hogsmeade over the forest, saying he was happier there. Ron and Hermione were relieved to know they didn’t have to care for Grawp while Hagrid went hunting for wild Thestrals. They avoided asking why and quickly changed the subject before Hagrid reconsidered.

After saying goodbye to Hagrid, Ron and Hermione returned to Slughorn’s office. They knocked on his door just to see if he had returned, and to their surprise, he opened it. “Ms. Granger and Mr. Weasley!” Slughorn greeted. “What a pleasant surprise. Please, come in!”

They entered the room, where welcoming leather chairs with glowing lamps on either side beckoned, but they did not sit.

“What brings you both to Hogwarts?” Slughorn inquired.

“We visited Hagrid for an ingredient from the Anima book,” Hermione explained.

“Ah, I see you’ve deciphered the ingredients,” he nodded approvingly, impressed by her intellect. “I take it Hagrid will procure it?”

“Yes,” she replied curtly.

“Excellent,” Slughorn remarked. He walked over to a table where potion vials were bundled protectively. “I was about to go to the Burrow to deliver these potions to Mr. Potter. How is he faring so far?”

“He was doing quite well when we left,” Hermione responded.

Slughorn nodded. “I hope it continues. Since you’re here, would you mind taking the potions when you return?” he asked Ron and Hermione.

“No problem,” Ron said, shaking his head.

“Wonderful.” Slughorn motioned for them to follow him into the fireplace to Floo back. “Tell your mother I’m sorry if it took me a while to return. I assume she didn’t need any potion while I was gone.”

Ron nodded and then he and Hermione vanished into the flames.

Back at the Burrow, Ginny helped her mother prepare lunch while Mr. Weasley read the Daily Prophet. Suddenly, Ron and Hermione appeared in the kitchen fireplace.

“Oh good, you’re back,” said Mrs. Weasley, not asking where they had been. Ginny must have already told her.

Ron set a stack of potion vials on the table. “Slughorn asked me to deliver these. Where’s Harry?”

“He’s upstairs napping before lunch,” Ginny replied.

“I can put the vials away for you, Mrs. Weasley,” Hermione offered.

“Thank you, dear,” Mrs. Weasley said.

Ron ascended the stairs to check on his best friend. Though he trusted Harry to be asleep, Ron knew his friend’s unpredictable illness meant he shouldn’t be left alone. As expected, retching sounds emanated from the bathroom when Ron reached the first floor. He knocked but heard no reply, so he turned the unlocked knob and entered.

Inside, Harry sat on the floor with his head in the toilet, sweating profusely. Ron rushed over. “Harry!”

Harry wiped his mouth and managed a faint smile, though he looked unwell. Ron glimpsed the dark red in the toilet bowl before Harry flushed it away.

“I’m okay, Ron,” Harry said weakly.

Ron felt frustrated when Harry automatically said “I’m okay,” despite clearly not being fine.

“Bloody hell, Harry, you’re obviously not okay!” Ron cursed in exasperation. He was about to tell his mother when Harry stopped him.

“Please, it’s not that bad,” Harry said as he stood up unsteadily. “I only threw up but I feel fine now, really.”

“But you’re throwing up blood, Harry! You need medical help,” Ron insisted anxiously.

“I know, but it won’t help,” Harry said resignedly.

Ron knew what he meant but refused to accept it. “Yes, it will help, at least for now!” he said through gritted teeth. “I don’t know why you’re being so stubborn.” He sighed in frustration.

“I promise I’ll take a potion next time I feel ill,” Harry assured him.

As they came down for lunch, Ron had firmly told Harry, “I swear, the next time you show even a hint of pain, I’ll make you take a potion, whether you like it or not!”

With a frustrated sigh, Harry said, “Ron, I promised I would take a potion if I’m in pain. You don’t need to keep threatening to force one on me.”

“Harry!” Hermione greeted him when she saw Harry in the kitchen. “How was your nap?” she asked, recalling that Ginny had mentioned Harry took a nap soon after Ron and Hermione left the Burrow earlier.

Harry saw Ron shoot him a stern look, but he disregarded it when replying, “It was good.”

Hermione smiled, but her smile faltered when she saw Ron shake his head disapprovingly.

After Mrs. Weasley served lunch, they gathered around the table, surrounded by mouthwatering dishes like shepherd’s pies, roasted chicken with vegetables, and pea soup. Ron, temporarily forgetting his frustration with Harry, looked ready to devour the entire spread.

Once everyone had filled their plates, Hermione eagerly told Harry about her and Ron’s conversation with Hagrid. “He said he’ll come visit you soon!”

Harry smiled but said nothing. He twirled his fork absently, staring mournfully at his uneaten meal. Though ravenous, he had no appetite. He pantomimed eating, lifting his fork with a morsel now and then.

“Did you two visit Hogwarts earlier?” Mr. Weasley inquired, though Molly had already informed him. His gaze shifted between Hermione and Ron.

“Yes, Mr. Weasley,” Hermione replied. “I’m sorry for not telling you our plans. We had to leave right away.”

“Leave for what?” Mrs. Weasley questioned.

“We’ve discovered a method in Professor Slughorn’s book to heal Harry’s soul,” Hermione announced brightly, glancing at Harry as he shifted uncomfortably in his seat, avoiding eye contact.

“Oh, wonderful news!” Mrs. Weasley exclaimed, though Hermione’s nervous smile hinted she may have revealed too much.

“What exactly does the book instruct you to do?” Mr. Weasley inquired with curiosity.

“It lists some ingredients we need to acquire,” Hermione replied carefully, noting Ron’s pallor and Ginny’s apprehension. “That’s why we visited Hagrid earlier.”

Mrs. Weasley asked, “What stuff are those?” as she scooped a portion of shepherd’s pie onto her plate.

“We need a Thestral’s tail hair—” Hermione began explaining before Mr. Weasley interjected.

“That’s an odd ingredient. Is it listed in the book?” Mr. Weasley inquired. “And Hagrid knows where to find it?”

“Yes,” Hermione answered, her hands turning cold with unease.

After taking a sip of water, Mr. Weasley followed up, “What else do you need to get?” Ron, Hermione, and Ginny exchanged tense glances, no longer focused on their uneaten food now that the conversation had turned to the troubling ingredients.

“Uhm...the next one comes from you, Mr. Weasley,” Hermione said quietly, somewhat hesitantly.

Mr. Weasley looked up sharply. “Me?” he asked, eyebrows raised in surprise. “What do you need help with?”

Hermione paused before answering, aware of her friends’ anxious looks. “Are you familiar with the Veil in the Department of Mysteries, Mr. Weasley?” she asked, holding her breath.

“The Veil?” Mr. Weasley repeated, his expression suddenly grim. Mrs. Weasley watched the exchange curiously.

Hermione nodded, sitting in numb silence.

After briefly meeting his wife’s eyes, Mr. Weasley replied in a hushed tone, “Yes, I know of it. What do you need there?”

“The archway is built in stone,” Hermione said anxiously, “and we were wondering if you could get a piece of that stone?”

“This is also described in the book?” Mr. Weasley asked, looking mystified.

Hermione nodded. “Yes, it is.”

“Well, obtaining a piece would require arrangements,” Mr. Weasley said. “As I’m sure you know, it’s not easy to enter the Department of Mysteries uninvited. I can’t sneak in without the Minister’s authorization. The Unspeakables would never permit it.”

Ginny interjected abruptly, “Do you think the Minister would grant you permission, Dad?”

Mr. Weasley glanced at Harry, who bowed his head over his plate, then said, “Kingsley Shacklebolt was a proud member of the Order of the Phoenix before becoming Minister for Magic. I’m certain he would be eager to help Harry in any way he can. Is there anything else you need before I contact the Minister?”

“No, that’s all,” Hermione replied. “Thank you, Mr. Weasley.”

Relief spread through Ron and Ginny when they began eating again.

Mr. Weasley paused his scraping of the plates, looking at Hermione intently. “I do have to ask, though,” he said, “what do you plan on doing with the stone once you get it? How does it help Harry?”

Hermione felt beads of sweat forming on her forehead as all eyes turned to her. Ron, Ginny, and even Harry looked up from his plate, waiting for her response.

“We make a potion from it,” she replied, her voice trembling.

“Ah,” said Mr. Weasley, comprehension dawning in his eyes.

Does he know what’s coming? Harry wondered.

Mr. Weasley looked at Harry sympathetically. “I hope this potion tastes alright before you drink it, Harry. Tail hair and stone don’t sound too appetizing to me.”

Hermione, Ron, and Ginny forced laughs, relieved the awkward conversation was finally finished. Harry managed only a faint smile and stayed silent for the rest of lunch.

After the intense conversation, Harry sat in a chair in the living room, feeling dizzy. Though things had ended well without trouble, he still felt uneasy having his friends do the hard work of mending his soul. Useless and ashamed, Harry thought he should be the one doing everything, not waiting for them to start the process. Just as he was about to close his eyes, Hermione joined him on the sofa.

“You’re a smooth talker,” Harry told her, arching his eyebrows dramatically. “I highly praise you for that, Hermione.”

“Oh, shut up, Harry!” Hermione said, turning red. “You have no idea how nervous I was. I really thought I’d mess up. And thanks for not helping, by the way,” she added sarcastically.

“You’re so very welcome,” he replied sarcastically, a teasing smile spreading across his face.

She playfully nudged his arm in response. “You really should help out sometime. I bet you wouldn’t make it more than a few seconds,” she challenged.

“That’s exactly why I leave the hard work to you,” Harry said as he dramatically rubbed his arm, feigning injury. “We both know I wouldn’t last long at all.”

Hermione rolled her eyes.

A few minutes of silence hung in the air before Harry broke it. “Hermione,” he began solemnly, “does the book say mending a soul requires three people present?”

Hermione frowned, biting her lip. “Truthfully, I don’t know,” she admitted. “We haven’t fully read the instructions yet. Ron, Ginny, and I only decided we’ll help no matter who attempts it.” She hesitated. “Do you hate us for that?”

“No,” he said. “I appreciate everything you all have done for me more than you know, but I’m overwhelmed by your willingness to risk your lives just to help me heal. The truth is, ever since my parents died, I’ve felt like I was living on borrowed time. After surviving the war, I thought I’d finally have a chance at a normal life, only to have that ripped away again. I don’t know what fate has in store for me, but I’m exhausted from fighting against a destiny I know was never meant to be mine, Hermione. I just want it all to end.”

Hermione paused, considering her words carefully. “Harry, I know you feel trapped and restless, like life is mocking you while you struggle against forces holding you back,” she said. “I see and feel your frustration every day. This isn’t to say you deserve such hardship - of course not. But you were given this difficult path because you have the inner fortitude to traverse it. Even when things seem senseless, have faith that there’s a purpose. Believe in yourself the way Ron and I believe in you. Don’t take our support for granted. Hold on to hope, Harry. Don’t give up, because we will never give up on you. And—” She hesitated, seeming to debate whether to continue.

“And what?” Harry asked, intrigued by her solemn tone.

“I still want to see you and Ginny get married one day and have kids,” Hermione said, her cheeks flushing pink. “Don’t you want to have a family?”

Harry looked away, exasperated. “Why bring this up now?” he asked, a slight blush creeping up his neck.

“You don’t want to miss that chance,” Hermione said defensively.

“I know,” Harry muttered. “Thanks, Hermione.”

Hermione stood up from her seat. “I’ll leave you to rest. I think I interrupted you earlier.”

“No, stay,” Harry said hastily, but Hermione squeezed his hand gently and went upstairs.

To be continued...