What was that thing?
Or rather, what was the thing sitting on his head?
"This is complicated—not something I can explain in just a moment," said Dumbledore, holding the charred diary, his expression heavy. "For now, I need to get back to the Ministry. I only managed to slip out by saying I needed to use the restroom."
"Will you be back tonight?" Harry pressed.
His tone made it clear that if Dumbledore didn't return, he'd follow him straight to the Ministry.
Dumbledore nodded. "Of course."
He held up the diary and shook it slightly. "But first, I need to deal with a certain gentleman who decided to plant this thing in Hogwarts."
"I'll wait for you in your office," Harry said. "What's the password?"
Dumbledore replied softly, "Gryffindor."
"Today's password is Gryffindor."
Harry couldn't hold back a scoff. "Your brain seems to be working a bit more normally today."
Dumbledore said nothing, merely gesturing for Harry to grab Fawkes' talon. Together, they flew out of the Chamber of Secrets before the phoenix whisked him away via apparition.
Dumbledore was busy.
Harry, meanwhile, conjured his Patronus to send a message to the Gryffindor common room, then made his way to the Headmaster's office.
Before long, Professor McGonagall arrived in a hurry, bringing the Weasleys in tow. At the rear of the group was Snape.
"Potter, are you hurt?" McGonagall rushed over, grabbing Harry's arm and looking him over carefully. Her sharp eyes caught the bruises scattered across his body, and her heart ached visibly.
Snape remained silent at the back, his cold gaze also fixed on Harry.
"I'm fine," Harry said, looking McGonagall in the eye. "Just a few scrapes and bruises. I've already taken some potions."
"Where's Professor Dumbledore?" McGonagall asked, visibly relieved.
"He went back to the Ministry. Did you see him earlier?" Harry asked in return.
"Yes. Miss Weasley and her brothers were all cursed by that man," McGonagall said gravely. "Professor Dumbledore came by briefly to lift the curse, but he only told me to wait for you to come out and contact the Weasleys' parents. He didn't say much else."
Harry looked past McGonagall at the Weasleys.
Ginny was still unconscious, cradled in Percy's arms.
The boys had bandages wrapped around their hands, and a pungent smell of potions lingered in the air. They all looked ashamed, their eyes darting away from Harry's. Even Ron couldn't muster the courage to meet his gaze.
"Tom was far craftier than I imagined," Harry exhaled, shaking his head. "Even his so-called sincerity was laced with lies."
"Professor Snape, could you examine Mr. Potter?" McGonagall hesitated before asking. "I'll go contact Mr. and Mrs. Weasley."
Snape stiffly approached.
He seemed tense, and his inexperience in handling such situations showed. As he helped Harry remove his leather armor, his movements were rough and overly forceful.
The Weasley twins watched nervously.
Harry's injuries weren't severe—just a few scrapes on his forehead and extensive bruising on his back, arms, and legs.
"You're lucky," Snape muttered, pulling out a vial of potion and awkwardly holding it out to Harry.
Harry pushed it aside and pulled out an identical vial from the Sorting Hat. "Thanks, but I've got my own."
Snape's hand froze midair. He took a deep breath, as if the potion bottle suddenly weighed a ton. It took him a moment to lower it, his actions labored, as if dragging himself out of quicksand.
He stood to the side, silent but glancing at Harry now and then.
Harry said nothing.
Before long, green flames flared to life in the office's fireplace, and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley stepped out in a rush.
"Professor McGonagall," Arthur began anxiously. "How are my children?"
"They're fine," McGonagall reassured him. "Percy and the others only suffered minor injuries, though eating might be a bit of a challenge for a while."
"Hey, Dad, I've become—" Fred began, raising his bandaged hands dramatically.
Percy nudged him sharply.
"Oh, thank Merlin," George interrupted, rolling his eyes. "Don't say it, Fred. We're wizards. That's not something to joke about!"
"Alright, alright," Fred sighed. "Though our hands are useless, little Ron still has one good hand."
"He was fifth in his year last term—quite impressive for a first-year," George added. "He'll do a fine job feeding us."
"You won't let us down, will you?" they asked in unison.
Ron forced a weak smile and nodded reluctantly.
Molly gave the twins a sharp look before turning her worried gaze to her youngest daughter. "And Ginny?"
McGonagall hesitated. "Her condition is... unique. That person's soul had attached itself to hers. While it seems the matter has been resolved..."
She trailed off, her uncertainty growing as she looked to Harry.
Harry nodded. "Professor Dumbledore has already dealt with it."
McGonagall nodded, her tone smoothing out. "Thanks to Harry's quick thinking, Ginny was rescued in time. Fawkes even shed tears for her wounds."
"If you don't trust St. Mungo's, you can wait for Professor Dumbledore to return."
Arthur and Molly turned to Harry, their expressions complicated.
"Thank you, Mr. Potter, for saving my daughter again," Arthur said hesitantly. He didn't know how to face Harry.
After all, the one who had possessed Ginny had been targeting Harry.
"You can call me Harry," Harry said, stepping forward and opening his arms.
Arthur froze, then hurriedly returned the gesture, giving him a light hug.
"Ginny is like a sister to me," Harry said softly. "It's only natural for a brother to protect his sister."
Molly was far more emotional, pulling Harry into a tight hug as tears welled up in her eyes. "Oh, Harry, I'm so sorry you had to go through this."
"Don't apologize," Harry patted her back. "I'm not great at comforting crying women."
"When summer comes, you must visit the Burrow," Molly said, her voice still thick with emotion. "I've always worried about how you're treated in the Muggle world."
"You can stop worrying about that," Harry replied. "Things weren't great before, but they're much better now—thanks to Ron, George, and all my wonderful friends."
Arthur forced a smile at McGonagall. "I'll take the children to St. Mungo's for a check-up. Please inform me when Professor Dumbledore returns."
They disappeared through the fireplace, leaving the Headmaster's office empty.
With the Weasleys gone, Snape seemed even more restless, stealing frequent glances at Harry.
But Harry neither said nor did anything.
He simply placed the Sorting Hat firmly on his head, letting it obscure his most hated face and hide his most hated eyes.
He saw nothing.
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Powerstones?
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