A Horcrux's Fate

Chapter 16

CHAPTER 16

Molly and Arthur stood at the edge of Shell Cottage's porch, trying to catch their breath after the weight of the day's events crashed down on them. The quiet waves of the beach were a stark contrast to the chaos they had just left behind, and they hoped that this brief moment of peace would allow them to regroup. Yet, the serenity was swiftly broken when they heard the heartbreaking sound of Harry's screams echoing through the walls of the cottage.

"Harry!" Molly exclaimed, her motherly instincts kicking in as she bolted inside. Arthur followed closely behind, his heart pounding in sync with Molly's frantic steps. Percy and Hagrid trudged in after them.

Bill stood at the doorway to Harry's room, his expression grave. "It's bad," he said, his voice tinged with urgency. "I don't know what else to do."

Inside, the sight of Harry lying on the bed tore at Molly's heart. He was contorted with pain, sweat beading down his forehead, his small frame trembling uncontrollably. The room was dark, the curtains drawn tightly, but it felt as if a weight of despair hung in the air—a suffocating miasma of helplessness.

"Harry, dear," Molly whispered, rushing to his bedside. She brushed his hair back, her fingers trembling against his clammy skin. "We're here. We're going to help you."

Harry barely acknowledged her presence, his haunted eyes flickering to hers for just a moment before shutting tight once more. He moaned, the sound guttural and raw, and Molly couldn't stifle the gasp that escaped her lips. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth, testament to the agony raging within his body.

"Please, just breathe," Arthur urged, standing resolutely at the foot of the bed, trying to project calmness even as anguish twisted in his gut. Ron, Hermione, and Ginny crowded around, their faces pale and drawn, watching helplessly as Harry's condition spiralled further.

Hermione leaned over him, her voice a soft, soothing lull. "Harry, you're not alone. We're all here with you. Just hold on, okay?"

The healing potions only seemed to intensify Harry's suffering. Each effort met with a defiance that left them feeling increasingly powerless, their hearts heavy with despair as they found themselves trapped in a nightmare from which they could not awaken.

Molly wrapped Harry in a blanket before taking a seat beside him.

"H-how could this have happened?" Molly's voice quivered as she spoke, slicing through the dense air of confusion that enveloped them. Her gaze flicked across the room, settling momentarily on her husband, Arthur, who sat slumping in a chair, wringing his hands in frustration. Percy stood nearby, looking as if he were trying to piece together a puzzle missing too many pieces, and Hagrid hovered like a storm cloud, his eyes reflecting the turbulence of the events that had unfolded.

"An attack on the Burrow..." Molly shook her head, the disbelief twisting at her stomach.

"Back at St. Mungo's, you told us you were attacked in your office," Arthur began, his tone laced with urgency when he looked at Percy. His insistence on recalling what had transpired felt like a desperate grasp at the fleeting threads of clarity. "Then that imposter made his way to the Burrow." He leaned forward, desperation creeping into his voice as he continued. "But how did he know Harry was there? How did he bypass our protective charms?"

Molly's heart raced at the disconcerting possibilities. "Did you share Harry's whereabouts with anyone?" she pressed, her brow creasing with concern.

Arthur's eyes narrowed as he searched his memories. "I don't recall mentioning it," he murmured, and motioned towards Percy. "Did I? I mean, you asked whether Harry was at the hospital, and I said no, he's at the Burrow."