Ron and Hermione hurried back to St. Mungo's after retrieving everything they would need. They were in pure panic and distress after seeing Harry writhing, and hearing his screams once again, but they had no choice but to Portkey him out of the hospital quickly. The moment their hands snatched at the pair of boots, it sucked their bodies into the unknown until it took them straight to Shell Cottage.

Harry could smell the salty air and hear the sea rushing against rock, but he doubled over in pain and fell to his knees once his feet slammed into the ground. He threw up as dizziness from travelling by Portkey sent fresh waves crashing over him. He dug his fingers into the hard, warm earth as he tried but miserably failed to ease the familiar burning feeling rife in his stomach. He broke down in sobs and swallowed hard. Ginny murmured some words of comfort as he screamed. Hermione cast a spell, and a stretcher materialized in front of her on which she and Ron laid Harry gently.

They ran as carefully as they could with their screaming burden straight to the front door of the Shell Cottage and banged urgently on its surface. Ron's brother, Bill Weasley, opened the door, and his eyes immediately grew wide with wonder. He smiled, but it only lasted a fraction of a second when more screams split the air. His face drained of colour when his eyes fell on Harry and his physical discomfort. He stepped aside and immediately let them in.

Bill's shock reflected clearly on his draining face, overwhelmed by the situation. "What happened?"

Ron settled Harry on the sofa before the stretcher vanished into thin air. Ginny quickly held Harry's hands, while Hermione called out his name and still threw words of comfort.

Ron faced his worried-looking brother and said breathlessly, "Harry's very sick, Bill."

Bill stiffened. "Yes, I can very well see that, Ron. What's wrong with him?"

Harry cried out in agony before Ron could answer his brother with a voice ragged with emotion. "His soul is damaged, and he's dying."

Bill blinked, and his eyes widened as more shock shot across his face. "Wait, what – what do you mean?"

But before Ron could answer his brother again, he whipped his head in Hermione's direction when she called his attention. "Ron, I – I need you to help me pour this – this Healing potion in Harry's mouth." Her voice quivered from being tense. "Harry's too strong… I couldn't hold him still."

Ron was at her side in an instant, positioning himself between her and Harry, and he held his friend's knees to keep them from moving so much. Bill helped as well, pinning Harry's thrashing shoulders to the sofa.

"Didn't we already agree that any potions don't work, Hermione?" asked Ron, his voice sounding sharp.

"I have to try." Hermione's voice broke, revealing a glimpse of the emotion she was struggling to contain. "I can't bear to see him like this! We have to at least try something to make him a little comfortable." She took the lid off of the vial. "Harry?" she tried to call out, but she already knew Harry couldn't hear her from the pain. She held his face and poured the liquid into his mouth. Harry gagged a little but somehow managed to swallow it painfully down to his throat.

At that moment, something large and silver came morphing through the ceiling over Shell Cottage. They all drew a sharp intake of breath, recognizing at once Kingsley Shacklebolt's lynx Patronus. They had seen it at Bill and Fleur's wedding, sent before as a warning.

The lynx landed lightly in the middle of the living room. It opened its mouth wide and spoke in the loud, deep, slow voice of the Minister.

I heard what happened. Find a safe place. Contact me whenever possible.

"Why would Kingsley send a message here?" Bill queried. "What did he mean by 'he heard what happened'?"

Ron and Hermione shared a knowing look before the latter half raised her head dejectedly toward Bill. "It's for us," she informed him calmly. "We were at St. Mungo's because Harry and your parents were attacked at the Burrow yesterday. Yaxley poisoned Harry, and your parents were stunned."

Bill suddenly looked terrified. "Are you saying mum and dad are in the hospital at this moment?"

"Percy and Hagrid are with them," said Ginny, her eyes sliding over to rest on Bill's face. "I told them we're leaving and that we have to take a Portkey to come here."

"But why did you leave?" Bill asked, looking baffled.

"There was an attack in St. Mungo's -" Ron answered quickly, but Hermione cut him off.

"It wasn't really an attack," she explained reassuringly. "Yaxley cast some sort of Amplifying Charm at St. Mungo's and urged any Death Eaters there to come out from hiding and kill Harry. We suspect he'd somehow projected to other areas of the wizarding world. People are stirred up after learning Harry's whereabouts. They either want him dead or just curious as to why he's sick."

Bill's gaze lingered for a moment on Hermione's face before he asked, "What about Kingsley?"

His sister answered him. "Kingsley was involved because we needed his help mend Harry's soul."

"What kind of help?" he asked slowly.

"We needed a certain ingredient for the potion that we will be brewing, and Kingsley is the only one who has the authority to get it."

"What is it?"

"A piece of the stone from the Veil in the Department of Mysteries," Hermione revealed.

"And did he give it to you yet?" Bill asked softly.

"Yes, it's in my bag right now. He came by the hospital yesterday with the stone when he heard of the attack at the Burrow."

Bill was silent as he seemed to be assessing the situation. Harry continuously writhed on the sofa, his cries echoing around the house. Hermione looked sad, but she wiped the sweat off her forehead and resumed saying comforting words to him.

"How are mum and dad doing at the hospital before you left?" Bill asked his siblings.

"Still a little shaken," said Ginny. "But they're doing well. They told me to go ahead and inform you of what happened as soon as we get here. They'll come by later on."

At that moment, Harry buried his face in the pillow as intense pain hit him again. Ginny could only hold on to his hand as worry and fear paled her face.

"What's happening to him?" Bill asked them in alarm. "You already gave him a Healing potion; how come it's not working?"

"It's unpredictable," Hermione answered truthfully. "Most of the time the potion won't work, but there were times that it would — It's hard to explain… it's like his soul is rejecting all forms of healing and slowly is damaging itself."

"How did he damage his soul?" Bill asked her tentatively. "Is that even possible?"

"It was actually Voldemort who did it. Do you remember the first time we stayed here?"

Bill nodded. "Yeah... I can vividly remember the three of you —" he gestured only at Harry, Ron, and Hermione before continuing, "You were with several others who took refuge here."

Hermione drew a deep breath. "Well, we were hunting -" she hesitated. She lowered her voice to a bare minimum as she spoke the word - "Horcruxes."

"What are those?"

She shivered slightly. "Voldemort hid a fragment of his soul in different objects to attain immortality," she replied, still in a low voice. She went on telling him the rest of what happened.

Bill gaped wordlessly at Hermione.

"Don't worry," assured Ron. "It took us a while to get our head around it when Harry told us."

Bill frowned as he considered the astounding information. His gaze fell on Ginny when she spoke quietly.

"Harry has been communicating with Professor Slughorn. That's how he found out about his soul and the possibility of finding a cure."

"And did he find any cure for this?"

"Yes," said Hermione. She reached inside her beaded bag and took out the Anima book that shimmered as the light inside the cottage hit the pearly cover. "All information on how to mend a soul is in here. The potion I mentioned earlier is here as well, it's part of the process."

"Professor Slughorn had this book with him?" asked Bill holding it with shaky hands after Hermione had handed it over.

"No," she said. "Dumbledore had it in his office. It took a while for Professor Slughorn to get back to us because he had to break the enchantment surrounding the book."

"Enchantment?" Bill looked confused at Hermione. "Why is there -"

"I asked the same thing the moment Slughorn told us," Ron said casually.

"It was Professor Dumbledore's plan to cast an enchantment to hide the book," said Hermione.

"But why hide it?"

Ron shrugged. "Your guess is as good as ours."

"Because the book talks about fragmenting souls," answered Hermione simply.

"But still... fragmenting a soul is unheard of anyway, much less a Horcrux... how can that —" Bill's own lack of comprehension appeared to be flustering him. He gave a sigh. "Did Dumbledore know Harry would suffer from a damaged soul sooner or later?"

"We don't know... but it's possible."

"Bill, where's Fleur?" Ginny suddenly asked when she looked around.

"She went back to France to visit her parents. She'll be there for a few weeks."

Silence hung around them. Harry had calmed down a little, but he still winced at the pain every now and then.

"Are we going to send back a reply to Kingsley?" asked Ron who sat down on a chair beside Harry.

"I say, you settle in first before contacting him," Bill advised, standing up. "Too much has happened. You are all still a bit shaken." He flicked his wand, and goblets whirled about gracefully toward him and landed with soft clinks on the table. They immediately filled themselves with butterbeer.

They drank silently and talked a few more hours after that until the sun had set. They moved Harry to the room where Mr. Ollivander had once occupied before. It was on the ground floor, facing the cliff-top garden and the grave of Dobby. It was easy access to get to Harry if need be.

The strong wind gusted against the window as Bill and Ron laid Harry in bed. Ginny closed the window when she saw Harry shiver and moan in pain. Harry still twisted and turned but not as violently as earlier. They could see his sweat trickling down his face which twisted into a pained expression. Ginny and Hermione sat on both of his sides.

"You can use the rooms upstairs," Bill told them.

"We don't really mind sharing the same room with Harry," Ron said to his brother. "We have to check him from time to time anyway."

"But there's not much room in here to sleep in," Bill protested.

"We'll manage," said Hermione with a grateful smile. "We could sleep in the living room if we really have to."

Compared to the crowded and lively streets of Diagon Alley, where pair of eyes were able to take in all the sights the alley had to offer, Knockturn Alley looked completely gloomy and deserted as the night shifted. Unusual, sinister, and sometimes dangerous individuals walked around, behaving fairly suspiciously in this area where numerous shops devoted to the Dark Arts sold many types of dark objects, trinkets, and even suspicious-looking furniture.

Hurrying up the street alone was Draco Malfoy who was peering left and right as though cautiously assessing his surroundings. A funny prickling on the back of his neck had made him feel as though he were being watched, but the street appeared to be deserted. He scurried along and glanced around when he finally reached his destination. He wore a curious expression mingled with resentment and fear when he entered.

Draco stood in what looked like a small pub. It had irregular ceiling heights, and ducking under them would be the best way to avoid getting a bump on the head. The room also had dirty wingback chairs and plain tables that were scattered around. Candles burned in brackets beside each table, illuminating the wood-panelled walls. A few old wizards sat on stools, their faces blank and uncaring as they puffed smoke from their pipes.

Draco adjusted his coat as he walked toward the very back of the room, having spotted someone in a dark hood sitting in a corner. One would think that the young man was meeting his grandfather, for his face was timeworn and wrinkled. His eyes were blood-flecked for his old age and hair as white as winter. His eyes glinted, and he produced a wicked smirk when Draco sat in front of him.

"Draco," regarded the old man quietly as he studied the silver-haired boy seated across from him.

Draco nodded. "Yaxley," he acknowledged.

The two sat silently scrutinizing each other's faces and appearances before Yaxley started to speak; his voice was weak, yet Draco could hear malice overflowing behind every word he said, even though he was disguised as an old man.

"How's mommy and daddy?"

Draco simply shrugged his shoulders and kept his mouth shut.

"I heard your family are switching sides and are helping the Ministry by giving out names; is that true?" Yaxley leaned back comfortably in his chair, his eyes fixed on Draco who gave an effort to look nothing but bored.

"Yes," he answered dully.

"And you? Are you willing to work with them?" Yaxley pronounced the last word firmly while curling his lip.

There was an underlying threat in the older man's words that frightened Draco, but he only laughed it off. "What kind of idiot do you take me for? You don't know what I'm capable of." He sent a glowering look at Yaxley before lowering his gaze onto the table.

But Yaxley narrowed his eyes at him, looking suspicious. "I heard you helped the Potter boy."

Draco jerked his head up.

"I bet you were surprised to know how I found out, didn't you?" Yaxley drawled. "But no matter… I'd already enforced an attack on that giant on his way to the cave." The look in his eyes sent shivers to the silver-haired boy, but Yaxley's expression changed from cold apathy to confusion when Draco grinned and laughed.

"What's so funny, boy?" he asked in irritation.

Draco gave an exaggerated sigh. "You think I don't know what I'm doing?" he asked. It was his turn to give Yaxley a cold stare. "I'm trying to help you here — You could at least show some appreciation."

"Don't you dare mock me, boy!" Yaxley snarled, bringing down his fists hard on the table. "You were not part of the plan —"

"But you used my idea to your advantage!" Draco said through gritted teeth, determined not to let Yaxley get to him. "I think I've a right to have a say on this matter. That giant oaf deserved what he got. I bet you don't know what to do next, do you?"

Yaxley's brows lowered darkly, and his eyes glittered with rage. "Your family is now considered traitorous," he said fiercely. "You think I don't know you have a tracking spell put on you? You could be putting me at risk by selling me out! What made you think that I can trust you? You can never convince me with your ill words and actions."

"You can say whatever you want against my family, Yaxley," Draco said in a lazy voice. "Yes, the Ministry put a tracking spell on me as part of my probation, but —" He looked directly at the old man in front of him who made clicking noises with his tongue to show his disappointment. "I'd cast another charm on me so I wouldn't be detected for at least a few hours. That would be enough time for our friendly chat, wouldn't it? You can even check if I did cast a charm to suit yourself." He stood up and waited for Yaxley to bring out his wand, but he only cocked his head to one side, not moving in his seat. Draco sat back down. "No one is gonna come here to arrest you."

"You have too much confidence in yourself," sneered Yaxley.

"Of course, I do," Draco said darkly. "That's how I was brought up."

Yaxley leered at him. "So much likeness to Potter, however."

"Don't you dare compare me to that half-blood filth!" hissed Draco, his temper growing.

A snigger slipped through Yaxley's teeth. "That Potter boy is brave... but he and that blood-traitor family lacked wit and shrewdness. It was so easy to attack them."

Draco gave a questioning look at him. "That piqued my curiosity," he said, interested. "Care to explain how you did it?"

Yaxley scrutinized Draco, gazing at him long and hard. His eyes blazed with an uncomfortable intensity. He crossed his arms when he finally spoke. "That Arthur Weasley had stupidly been talking loudly to his son Percy."

Draco swallowed back the urge to snort. "Wouldn't be the first time," he muttered under his breath.

Yaxley continued, "I was on a disguise at the Atrium, and I heard one of them mention the Potter boy's name. I remembered Dolores Umbridge had files against the redhead family for supporting the boy, so I'm sure they were talking about him. I heard he was ill, but I didn't hear any more than that after the father ran off quickly.

"Since I have large stocks of Polyjuice potion, it didn't take long for me to transform into Percy Weasley after easily obtaining a piece of his hair," Yaxley's blue eyes met Draco's steel gaze. "I had the opportunity up my sleeve. The Weasleys think that after the war they're allowed to be lax with their security -" he gave an empty chuckle. "They're mistaken, of course."

Draco frowned.

"I found a file regarding registered fireplaces in Percy's office, and it told me exactly where they lived..." Yaxley went on. "I can easily manipulate the protection, but I have to be discreet, of course. I took my time observing the house from afar until I saw an owl suddenly fly out of the window."

"An owl?"

"Yeah... imagine my surprise when I read the letter and found out about a certain cave," said Yaxley, his eyes roaming back to Draco, regarding him lazily with a stare that burned like ice and fire at the same time. "The next day I sought out the son in his office once again and simply stunned him to reduce my risk of being discovered while I plan on going to their hovel. I took a piece of his hair for my Polyjuice potion, of course. But personally, I just like to hurt the Weasleys... that's why I did it, I guess," he said in a chuckle. "You don't know how gratified and excited I was when I stepped foot inside their hut... and the first person I saw was Potter in his 'not-so-good' state."

Draco cleared his throat but remained quiet.

"They were just so easily fooled," Yaxley said in a menacing voice. "And that Granger girl just couldn't keep her mouth shut. She went on and on about everything that had happened. It was so fitting to my needs and perfect, I tell you."

Draco watched Yaxley with a bemused expression when he took out a copy of the Witch Weekly magazine, turning to the page where a large picture of a very ill Harry Potter in the arms of Hagrid could be seen. He shoved it in front of Draco who stared at the page.

"I haven't read any article from Rita Skeeter for quite a while. Was she part of your little plan? Did you ask her to write this?"

"I don't really have to talk to her to do my bidding," said Yaxley coolly. "She just knows when and where to get a really good story. I like her."

"So, Potter's in St. Mungo's because you attacked him?"

"Yes... I poisoned him," Yaxley replied with a smug look on his face. "It's funny to realize that just a few drops of poison would cause them to scramble about. But Potter's screams –" he closed his eyes and he gave a wicked smile.

"I bet you loved that, didn't you?" Draco asked with a look of disgust.

"Oh, yes! I've been waiting to take my revenge, and this is only just the beginning, boy. Now the world knows what state their young hero is in. I reckon you know he is dying?" Yaxley asked, grinning wildly.

Draco didn't answer him but instead, he asked, "Is Potter still in the hospital?"

"No," said Yaxley. "He disappeared when he couldn't handle the pressure of people wanting him so badly, especially the likes of the Death Eaters, but that's okay. We have a plan set for him."

Draco had an inkling of what Yaxley was alluding to. "Is that the reason you want to talk to me? Am I part of your plan now?"

Yaxley smirked at him. "That sounds so transactional, but... yes you are... unless of course you want to hide with your precious mommy and daddy," he taunted. "If you truly want to have your family's reputation back, why not join us and finish what the Dark Lord has started. Isn't that what you wanted in the first place when you joined the ranks of Death Eaters?" His eyes fastened upon Draco's grey ones with such an intensity that the younger man looked away after nodding his agreement.

Yaxley's lips curved into a smile. "Good... very good," he said pleasantly. "You have always proven yourself worthy of your title as a pureblood, and I have regarded that as worthy of honour. I am glad that you have not truly lost your way, unlike your parents."

"If you wish me to join you, then leave my mother and father out of this!" said Draco in a cold voice. "I make my own choice, and my parents have nothing to do with it."

"Such bravery…" muttered Yaxley. "I rather missed that. I haven't seen it for such a long time. I wonder why you were always reluctant to participate in Death Eater activities…" He leaned forward to stare at Draco, his dark eyes glinting. "Your loyalty didn't really lie with the Dark Lord, perhaps?"

"You have no right to question my loyalties to the Dark Lord!" spat Draco. "I carried out his tasks successfully — and brought death to Dumbledore."

"No, you didn't," said Yaxley, his smirk back on his old-looking face. "You were too afraid to kill him, so Snape saved your neck by killing Dumbledore himself. You only did a partial on the task when you brought that Vanishing Cabinet into Hogwarts so we could finish off the job for you. You are such a cunning little boy, and I must say, you truly belong in Slytherin for slithering away most of the time."

Draco threw him a filthy look. "I do not slither away!" he said with clenched teeth.

Yaxley stabbed a finger in his direction. "Then prove it!" he snarled.

Draco's anger at Yaxley continued to pound through his veins like venom, but he had to control his temper and find out what Yaxley wanted him to do. "What's your plan, then?"

Yaxley looked at him contemptuously, and then his lip curled. "We kill Potter, of course."

"Are you even serious right now? I've heard that part many times," said Draco coldly. "You poisoned him — but why didn't you just let him die then and there?"

"Where's the fun on that if I killed him?" Yaxley scoffed. "It would be too easy."

"How do you plan on killing him then if you don't even know where he is?" Draco's grey eyes fixed unblinkingly upon Yaxley, dislike etched in every line of his face. At that moment, two wizards in black cloaks entered the pub. They made their way to Yaxley, regarding him silently as they got closed.

One of them reported at once, his voice sharp. "We've checked around the Weasley house, but we saw no sign of him. We only just managed to flee there before we saw Aurors close in on the area."

Draco shifted in his seat, looking away from them.

"What about St. Mungo's?" Yaxley asked with a frown.

The other wizard spoke with a deep voice. "The blood-traitors are in there with Percy Weasley and the giant, but we didn't see any more of him inside the building. After you made that announcement, sources say one Healer saw two of his friends hurrying along the hallway, holding a pair of boots. They went inside his ward. She said she heard faint screams of pains from Potter before the noises disappeared. We believe that they Portkeyed themselves out of there."

Yaxley smirked, and Draco saw malice flare up in his eyes. "Is that so?" The two wizards nodded. "Very well." He gestured to them to leave.

Draco stared at the two retreating forms. He hadn't seen them before, and he suspected that maybe they were Yaxley's new recruits.

"That could easily be checked into," Yaxley muttered to himself.

"How many Death Eaters do you have now?" asked Draco, bringing Yaxley back out of his reverie. "Are those your new recruits?"

"Yes," he said quietly. "We're less than twenty in number at the moment. I know there are still many followers out there that are too afraid to show themselves. I feel sorry for them. They believed that a new and rightful society would be born, only for it to be trampled by someone who is not even worthy to be a part of this world. We were given hope — a chance to better the supremacy of our magical blood — but it was taken away from us. You do want a chance for a better world, don't you?"

Draco lowered his head. He was raised to strongly believe in the importance of blood purity. His family was proud of it, and because of that, they maintained a respectable public image while being allied with the Dark Lord. If only Potter didn't make friends with that Weasel they could have been doing great things together and he could've known more and understood more about who the real superiors are in the wizarding world, he thought to himself. A regret formed in his mind which he thought could've been easily fixed if only the blood traitors hadn't been too friendly with him in the first place. He wondered how Potter would've treated him then. Would they have been best friends? Would he have also followed in line with the old pureblood beliefs? Would he have become a Death Eater and worked beside the Dark Lord? There were so many possibilities of what could have happened, but it was too late now. Potter had ruined everything ever since he'd begun to consort with the mudbloods, and he was stuck here dealing with all these messes.

"I do," he said after a while.

Yaxley peered down at him, his teeth bared. "Then, we shall make a short visit to one of the blood traitor redheads."

"Who?" Draco asked curiously.

"George Weasley."

To be continued...

Beta-read by KVeronicaP, Chirpo