London – Saint-Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries

Morning of November 01st, 1981

Albus Dumbledore and his company had Apparated into a Muggle street that was enchanted to allow wizards to Apparate to specific locations without being seen.

It was located across from a dilapidated red-brick department store called Purge and Dowse Ltd. Large signs on the doors read "Closed for Renovation," while old mannequins with poorly placed wigs stood behind a strangely clean shop window.

The wizards (not forgetting the cat) approached one of the mannequins in the display window.

"We are here for a medical appointment with MRS. STROUT," declared the old wizard, looking at the mannequin.

It was a good thing no Muggles were around to witness the scene: a mannequin coming to life to nod and invite wizards inside was anything but normal. Satisfied, they walked through the glass and found themselves before doors invisible to the uninitiated.

As soon as they stepped inside, the controlled hustle and bustle of the ground floor enveloped them. The vast, bright hall echoed with the hurried footsteps of Healers clad in green robes embroidered with St. Mungo's emblem: a wand and a bone crossed. A large waiting room stretched before them, filled with wooden benches with high backs reminiscent of church pews, and chairs worn smooth by time. Low tables held various books, newspapers, and magazines, including Witch Weekly and The Daily Prophet. The warm atmosphere was maintained by white and green walls adorned with medical advice and portraits of former Healers with benevolent gazes. Pots of flowers and medicinal plants added a touch of life to the scene.

Sirius Black, intrigued, observed a bewildered couple staring at their child, whose right arm had mysteriously transformed into an elephant's trunk. Probably a magical accident, typical of childhood. All around, other wizards displayed equally peculiar symptoms: a comically twisted nose, a hiccup that changed their skin color with each spasm, or an old man whose ears had turned into cabbage leaves.

The group made their way to the reception desk, nestled between two monumental arches leading to staircases and elevators servicing the upper floors. A dark wooden counter contrasted with the immaculate, green-tinted walls. Behind it, a middle-aged witch with glasses perched on her nose and gray hair framing a kind face awaited them.

"Welcome to St. Mungo's. What is the reason for your visit?" she asked, scrutinizing the group.

"Madam Strout is expecting us in the Bonham Room," Dumbledore replied with a reassuring smile. "May we proceed?"

The receptionist nodded respectfully before consulting a thick register, linked to miniature versions held by the Healers. A wave of her wand made the pages turn with a soft rustle.

"You may go, gentlemen. The elevator will take you directly there."

"Thank you," Dumbledore replied with gratitude.

Under the left arch, they followed a corridor leading to a grand staircase. To the right, an elevator promised a more direct route. Hagrid squeezed in with difficulty, forced to stoop. Amused, Sirius watched the Potters' cat leave the half-giant's arms to perch on Dumbledore's shoulder. The latter, slightly amused, selected the fourth floor.

A light melody accompanied their ascent, reminiscent of the elevators at the Ministry. Soon, a feminine voice announced:

"Fourth floor, Spell Damage Department."

The grille slid open with a discreet "ding." Here, the atmosphere differed from the entrance hall: a long white-and-green corridor lined with portraits stretched ahead. Several doors punctuated their progress, including the Janus Thickey Ward, renowned for housing severe cases of irreversible spell damage. But their destination was a massive wooden door inscribed:

Room No. 50 – Bonham Room.

Miriam Strout was waiting for them. Her green-and-white robe was accented with a white collar fastened by a golden button linked by a delicate chain. Her emerald eyes contrasted with her light brown hair, framing a face of almost ethereal softness. At the sight of the cat on Dumbledore's shoulder, she raised an eyebrow.

"Good evening, Professor Dumbledore. I received your Patronus, which seemed urgent. Are you aware that you have a cat on your shoulder? I must remind you that, except for medical exceptions, animals are not allowed."

"Good evening, Miriam. Please excuse Minnie's presence," he replied, stroking the animal.

"Minnie?" Sirius echoed, stifling a laugh. "Don't tell me…"

He trailed off, amused. He hadn't set foot in Godric's Hollow for a while and had never heard of the cat.

"Let's just say Minerva wasn't exactly thrilled that we named this cat after her, though according to James, they share the same temperament," Dumbledore explained with a smile. "I hope we can make an exception for our visit."

"Very well," Miriam replied, a hint of amusement in her eyes. "Two colleagues are waiting inside. Come in."

The Bonham Room turned out to be a spacious chamber. A single bed stood beneath a window, facing a portrait of Mungo Bonham, the hospital's founder. A dresser topped with potions occupied one corner. The most striking feature, however, was the enchantments imbued in the room: the marble floor gave way to white stone engraved with ancient runes forming a vast circle. Some, discreetly embedded in the walls and ceiling, blended into the stone thanks to a colorless liquid.

Two Healers awaited at the center. The first, tall, blond, and aged, looked weary behind his square glasses. Any Daily Prophet reader would have recognized him: Helbert Spleen, a specialist in everyday ailments and a teacher at St. Mungo's. He occasionally gave lectures at Hogwarts for students interested in healing.

Beside him stood a man with chocolate-colored skin and hazel eyes magnified by large glasses. His hat bore the hospital emblem, concealing the absence of hair lost in a magical fire caused by a Death Eater. Eustace Burke harbored a deep aversion for them, to the point of entrusting their care to his colleagues, convinced he could never honor his Healer's oath toward such individuals.

The two Healers observed the group attentively, intrigued by the urgency that had interrupted their rest. Helbert, visibly exhausted, looked as though he had just woken from too short a sleep, likely cut short by the incessant questions from Daily Prophet readers.

"Albus Dumbledore, of course it had to be you!" exclaimed Helbert, a tired but sincere smile on his lips. "I hope this is worth it… You know how much I miss sleep, especially these days."

Sirius averted his gaze under the Healer's stern look, perhaps regretting his numerous past questions.

"And look who it is! Mr. BLACK himself!" Helbert added with irony. "Still as curious as ever, I suppose? Do you have more questions about Lubrication Charms? Or about treating festering boils under the armpit? Or perhaps…"

"Helbert!" Eustace interrupted, amused. "I think he gets the message."

"I should hope so," the blond Healer retorted, shooting Sirius a sharp look.

The others smirked at the sheepish expression and flushed cheeks of the young man. Everyone knew that Sirius regularly sent embarrassing questions to the medical column. Despite his engagement to Amelia Bones and a few entanglements with Remus Lupin, that had never stopped him from engaging in various adventures, including one with a goblin. Ah, Brinok and that spinning top... he thought with a touch of nostalgia.

Miriam turned to Dumbledore.

"Professor, why this room in particular?"

Dumbledore extended his arms toward Sirius, who handed him the child.

"Can I count on your discretion, in accordance with your oaths?"

"Absolutely," affirmed Eustace. "We are bound by medical secrecy unless explicitly authorized by the patient or their guardian."

"That hasn't stopped you from..." Sirius began indignantly.

"Your questions were published in The Daily Prophet, accessible to everyone," Helbert interrupted. "You accepted their dissemination."

"That explanation works for me," Dumbledore concluded, soothing the tension. "To get straight to the point, a press conference will take place later today to announce Voldemort's downfall, thanks to young Harry. He is the reason for our presence here."

Under the both curious and delighted gazes of the healers, Dumbledore explained the events of the night and Elton Elderberry's discoveries. With Sirius's consent, they cast a diagnostic spell on Harry, making a small parchment appear, floating in the air. The three healers exchanged a glance and stepped aside for a brief discussion.

Miriam, Eustace, and Helbert examined the red annotations.

Date: 31/10/2024 – 8:25 PM – sacrificial magical protection – effects: unknown – multiple sources: Lily Jane Potter / James Fleamont Potter
Date: 31/10/2024 – 8:26 PM – Killing Curse – effect: reflected at the caster – source: Tom Marvolo Riddle
Date: 31/10/2024 – 8:27 PM – fragmented spiritual parasite – effect: isolated by the sacrificial magical protection – source: Tom Marvolo Riddle

"Well, Voldemort has never lived up to his name more than now," muttered Eustace. "Riddle... Must be a pseudonym."

"Tom Riddle... It's been ages," Helbert mused. "We were at Hogwarts together, but he was in Slytherin. Our paths barely crossed... I was closer to my fellow Ravenclaws."

Miriam and Eustace exchanged a surprised glance before returning to the diagnosis.

"What intrigues me most is this protection with unknown effects," Miriam noted. "Normally, a diagnosis shouldn't display such uncertainty."

"What if the spell were evolving?" suggested Helbert. "A first. And there was a double sacrifice..."

"I didn't know that was your specialty," Eustace remarked.

"Now you do," Helbert smiled. "My insatiable curiosity drives me to explore many fields. If my hypotheses are correct, the child could have increased resistance to spells and poisons."

"A magical barrier, then?"

"No, and fortunately not. Otherwise, no treatment would be possible. This magic protects without blocking. And it's likely it grants other advantages... Increased power? Better memory? An easier grasp of magic? Anything is possible."

"Interesting, but I'm more concerned about this parasite," Eustace interjected, pointing to the last annotation. "This 'Horcrux' seems well isolated from the boy."

"Yes, but its extraction will require precision and caution," added Miriam. "A blade would be the ideal tool..."

They fell silent, pondering. Finding an enchanted blade suitable for the task would not be simple.

"What if we used a goblin-forged scalpel?" suggested a deep voice suddenly.

The healers started and turned toward the portrait of the hospital's founder, Mungo Bonham, who had been observing them all along.

"A goblin scalpel?" Miriam repeated, thoughtful. "Yes... But where can we find one?"

Bonham smiled before his portrait pivoted, revealing a hidden compartment in the wall. Inside, a red case contained a fine silver blade. Miriam stepped forward and carefully took it, admiring the craftsmanship on the handle, where the name Bonham was engraved.

"This scalpel was gifted to me by the goblin king after I saved his son," Bonham explained. "I would appreciate its return once the procedure is complete."

"It will be done," assured Miriam with a respectful nod.

"It seems we have our solution," Helbert concluded, taking the blade. "We should proceed within the possession circle, as a precaution."

"Excellent idea," approved Eustace.

Without further delay, they rejoined Dumbledore and his group. With a precise gesture, Eustace repositioned the bed at the center of the circle, perfectly aligning the runes around the child.

"We have everything we need, Professor," Miriam announced. "We will use the goblin scalpel to make a slight incision on the scarred skin and remove the infected area. Once Harry is out of the circle, the soul fragment will remain trapped. All that will remain is to exorcise it."

"And Harry?" Sirius worried, eyeing the blade warily. "He won't suffer?"

"We will put him to sleep," Helbert reassured him. "The incision will be minimal and closed immediately. In a few minutes, there will be no trace left."

"But the scar might reappear over time," Eustace noted. "If it does, it will be far less noticeable."

Sirius nodded, aware that some wounds always leave a mark. A reminder of the past...

"May we observe the procedure?" Dumbledore asked.

"As long as you stay back and do not interrupt us," Miriam replied.

Dumbledore agreed before handing over Harry, who gazed at them with a mix of curiosity and worry. The child didn't understand where he was or why his parents weren't there. Miriam lifted her wand in a fluid motion.

"Somnus."

The child fell asleep instantly, and she gently laid him on the bed.

"Helbert?"

The elder healer stepped forward and drew his wand.

"Better to prevent any pain," he added. "Lenio."

The anesthetic spell enveloped the scar. Reassured, Helbert put away his wand and approached the sleeping boy, scalpel in hand.
Sirius, Dumbledore, Hagrid, and even Minnie—the cat perched on Albus's shoulder—watched the scene intently. Despite the many mishaps Harry had unintentionally caused her, the feline remained deeply attached to him.

The procedure lasted only a minute. As soon as the marked skin was removed, the parasite manifested. Harry's protective magic tightened around it, definitively isolating the soul fragment.

Eustace reacted immediately, moving the bed away from the circle with a flick of his wand. A piercing scream echoed. The scar expelled a black mist, while a spectral figure with red eyes writhed violently inside the circle. Helbert dropped the fragment of skin to the floor and stepped back hastily, followed by Miriam and Eustace.

The smoke-like creature screamed, striking the magical barrier like a caged bird.

''By Merlin's beard…'' Helbert breathed, recognizing Voldemort's distorted face. ''We must exorcise it immediately.''

''He doesn't stand a chance of escaping,'' Eustace remarked with a smirk. ''Seeing the 'great Voldemort' reduced to such helplessness is rather ironic, don't you think?''

''We must act quickly,'' Miriam said firmly. ''I refuse to let the child wake up to this horror.''

The three healers raised their wands. A powerful golden beam shot toward the circle. The room was flooded with blinding light, forcing all the spectators to shut their eyes. When they reopened them, the dark figure had vanished. The piece of skin on the floor had been reduced to ashes.

Without wasting a moment, Miriam walked over to a dresser and took out a jar of balm. She scooped out a generous amount and applied it to Harry's forehead. A faint vapor rose as it touched the scar.

''Is it over?'' Sirius asked as he approached, his gaze shifting between Harry and Miriam.

''Yes,'' she confirmed. ''The child is fine. In ten minutes, the balm will have finished its work. If he feels any pain, give him a suitable potion—you'll easily find one at St Mungo's or from a good potioneer in Diagon Alley.''

Sirius let out a relieved sigh before gathering his sleeping godson into his arms.

''I am deeply grateful to you, Madam Strout,'' he said with a sincere smile.

''All's well that ends well,'' Dumbledore declared, his eyes twinkling. ''We shall take our leave, and, of course, we trust in your discretion regarding what transpired here.''

''You can count on us,'' Eustace assured him. ''Confidentiality is part of our profession.''

''As for me, I'm going to rest,'' Helbert grumbled. ''And I don't want anyone disturbing me!''

With that, he carefully placed the scalpel back behind Bonham's portrait and left the room.

Dumbledore, Sirius, Hagrid, and Harry—Minnie included—left St Mungo's, their hearts filled with hope. Sirius silently vowed to send a reward to the three healers for saving his godson. A bag of gold for each would do just fine.

They then set off for the only refuge left to them: Hogwarts.