Flames Of Destiny // HJP [1]

Chapter Twenty One : The New Beginning ✩°𓏲⋆

「 ✦ 21✦ 」

✩°𓏲⋆🌿. ⋆⸜ 🍵✮˚✩°𓏲⋆🌿. ⋆⸜ 🍵✮˚

⋆˚࿔ (Y/N) 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

𝕬𝖘 Harry, Dumbledore, and the large black dog entered the hospital wing, everyone turned sharply at the sound of the door. Mrs. Weasley gasped, letting out a muffled scream as her eyes locked onto Harry.

"Harry! Oh, Harry!" she cried, rushing towards him with open arms. But before she could reach him, Dumbledore stepped in front of her, his hand raised gently to stop her.

"Molly," he said, his voice calm but firm. "Please, listen to me for a moment. Harry has endured a terrible ordeal tonight. He has already had to relive it by recounting everything to me. What he needs now is rest—peace and quiet. If he wants you all to stay with him," Dumbledore glanced at (Y/n), Ron, Hermione, and Bill, "you may. But no questions until he's ready. Certainly not tonight."

Mrs. Weasley nodded, her face pale and her expression one of deep concern. She turned on the others as though they had been loud, even though they hadn't said a word. "Did you hear? Quiet!" she whispered sharply, trying to hold back tears.

"Headmaster," Madam Pomfrey interrupted hesitantly, her eyes on the enormous black dog, "might I ask what—?"

"This dog will remain with Harry for now," Dumbledore said, his tone leaving no room for questions. "I can assure you, he is exceptionally well-trained. Now, Harry—go ahead, get into bed."

(Y/n) watched Harry closely. His eyes remained downcast, fixed on the floor as if he couldn't bear to look at anyone. His shoulders were slumped, his whole demeanour heavy with a sorrow that seemed to weigh him down. He looked so pale, so utterly broken, as though the weight of what he had witnessed inside the maze had crushed his spirit.

(Y/n) didn't know the full details of what had happened in the maze, nor how Cedric had died, or why Moody, who had been so strong and commanding earlier, was now lying unconscious, gaunt and frail, in one of the beds. There were so many questions swirling in her mind, but looking at Harry now—seeing the misery etched on his face, the hollow look in his eyes—it was clear that whatever had happened, it was far worse than anything she could imagine.

He had seen Cedric die. She was sure of it.

"I'll return once I've met with Fudge, Harry," Dumbledore said softly. "I want you to stay here tomorrow until I've addressed the school." And with that, he left the room, the quiet clicking of the door the only sound as he departed.

Madam Pomfrey guided Harry to a bed nearby. As he passed by, Harry caught sight of Moody lying still in a bed at the far end of the room, his wooden leg and magical eye removed and resting on the bedside table.

"Is he going to be all right?" Harry asked, his voice quiet, but filled with concern.

"He'll recover," Madam Pomfrey assured him as she handed him a set of pyjamas and pulled the privacy screens around the bed. Harry, now shielded from view, removed his robes and changed into the pyjamas before climbing into bed.

When the screens were drawn back, (Y/n), Ron, Hermione, Bill, Mrs. Weasley, and the black dog—Sirius—gathered around the bed, sitting in chairs nearby. Ron and Hermione watched Harry cautiously, as though afraid he might shatter under their gaze.

(Y/n) smiled softly at Harry, the kind of smile that didn't need words. Then, without really thinking, she reached out and gently ruffled his messy hair, careful, as though she feared he might break like fragile glass. Her touch was meant to comfort, not to disturb. She said nothing, but her gesture spoke volumes.