The Three Brothers: The Cure

The Flamels

7th June 1992

White.

Harry's eyes pricked as bright light invaded his senses. He could sense that he was awake, but it felt too surreal. He would have wondered where he was, but it was too exhausting to even think. Nevertheless, a small voice prickled inside him, urging him to remember what had happened. Harry got the feeling it was important; extremely important.

Summoning all the energy inside him, Harry tried to remember what had happened. As his eyes fluttered open, he saw a glint of gold in the corner of his eye.

A Snitch? Was it a quidditch match? He tried to reach for it, but his arms were too heavy. He could barely lift a finger.

'No,' Harry thought, his mind growing more coherent. Whatever he was trying to remember, the stakes had been higher. Much more higher.

As he felt an eternity pass by, a weird smell assaulted Harry's senses. He couldn't place it immediately, but he knew he recognised it anywhere. It was—clean.

Hospital Wing. Harry felt himself stir awake as his mind made that connection. But why was he here?

"Good Afternoon, Harry."

Harry heard the familiar voice coming from the Snitch. As his eyes focused, he realised it was a pair of golden half-rimmed glasses, perched on the nose of Albus Dumbledore.

Dumbledore. Another golden object surfaced from Harry's memories—the Mirror of Erised. As he recalled the last thing he remembered, Harry felt a surge of adrenaline rush through him. He jerked in a motion to get up, but Dumbledore placed a solid hand on his shoulder.

"Calm down, my boy," said Dumbledore. Harry turned to see his twinkling blue eyes, and Dumbledore continued. "The danger has passed, Harry. You're in the Hospital Wing now, and it is important that you get your rest."

The words had an immediate effect on Harry, and he felt his heart slowing down. Suddenly, Harry remembered what had happened to the Philosopher's Stone.

"Sir, the Stone, I—I tried to protect it, but —"

"It was destroyed," Professor Dumbledore finished for him. "Yes, you did tell me that when I arrived. It was just before you passed out. Gave me quite a scare actually." Harry stayed silent as the Headmaster gingerly placed Harry's glasses on his eyes. "As it turns out, you had suffered from magical exhaustion. Thankfully, none of the other injuries that you had suffered had any permanent effect."

Now being able to see much clearly, Harry looked around the room. He was lying in a bed with white linen sheets. The bed was cordoned off with starch white curtains, and the table beside him was piled high with sweets and treats. He turned back towards Professor Dumbledore, who he noticed, looked more tired than usual.

"How—How long have I been here, sir?" he asked. Dumbledore gave an audible sigh before replying.

"Three days. Three very long days. I daresay your friends will be most relieved to hear that you have come around."

"Are they—Ron, and Hermione and —" Dumbledore must've sensed his worry, and he gave Harry a reassuring smile.

"Yes, they are alright," he said. "Thanks to Mr Smith's quick thinking, Mr Weasley, Mr Longbottom, and Ms Granger were able to escape. Mr Weasley volunteered to stay by the trap door and inform me of the situation when I arrived."

A feeling of dread welled inside Harry as he felt his stomach drop.

"What about Mark?" he asked hesitantly. Professor Dumbledore gave another long sigh before replying.