The heavy silence in the hospital wing was broken only by the distant sounds of footsteps echoing in the corridors, and the soft, rhythmic beeping of Harry's heart monitor. He was still unconscious, his body riddled with scars, his mind far from the peace he desperately needed.

Stevan moved around the bed with precision, his every movement deliberate. He was accustomed to dealing with injuries, but even he couldn't ignore the lingering tension in the room the sense that something was always just on the edge, waiting to strike.

He stood over Harry, checking the potions he had administered earlier, trying to stabilize his patient. Despite the advanced healing methods at St. Mungo's, Harry's recovery would take time. The weight of the battle and Bellatrix's cruelty had left a mark far deeper than physical wounds.

Stevan's eyes briefly flickered to the door as Sirius entered, his face drawn and taut with concern. He didn't speak immediately, just taking in the sight of Harry lying motionless, his breathing shallow. Sirius had been by Harry's side throughout the worst of it, and yet he couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt every time he looked at him. He should have been there sooner. He should have protected him better.

Stevan noticed the look in his eyes but didn't comment. Instead, he approached Sirius and placed a hand on his shoulder, a silent show of support.

"How is he?" Sirius asked, his voice low, rough with exhaustion.

Stevan gave a sigh, glancing down at Harry. "He's stable for now, but this is more than just physical recovery. He needs time. Time and safety." He paused, his expression hardening. "We can't stay here for long. Bellatrix and the others will keep hunting him, and it won't stop until they get what they want."

Sirius clenched his fists at his sides. He could feel the anger building inside him anger at Bellatrix, at the Death Eaters, at himself for not having done more. He had watched Harry suffer, knowing there was little he could do to ease the pain. But that was changing now. They couldn't afford to hide in the shadows anymore.

"We need a plan," Sirius said, determination in his voice. "And we need it fast."

Stevan nodded. "I've already been in contact with the Order. We'll move him to a more secure location, somewhere they won't find him. But we need to be sure that Harry is well enough to travel."

Sirius glanced at Harry, his eyes softening. "He's been through so much. I just want him safe."

"Safe, yes," Stevan replied, "but you also have to prepare for the worst. If Bellatrix or the other Death Eaters find out where we're going, it won't matter how well we protect him. We need to stay ahead of them."

Before Sirius could respond, the door opened again, and Neville stepped inside, his face tight with resolve. Frank Longbottom followed him, still moving slowly but steadily, supported by his son.

Sirius shot to his feet, his expression incredulous. "Frank, you should be resting."

Frank's gaze was unwavering, his steps slow but purposeful. "I'm not resting until I know Harry's safe. The Longbottoms aren't known for backing down, Sirius. And neither am I."

Neville gave his father a small, supportive smile, but there was no hiding the concern in his eyes. "He's right. We all need to be in this together."

Frank walked over to Harry's bedside, his hand hovering for a moment before resting gently on Harry's arm. "You've been through more than anyone should bear, lad," Frank muttered softly, his voice rough from years of pain. "But we'll see this through. We'll get you back on your feet, Harry. You're not alone anymore."

There was a long silence, heavy with unspoken thoughts and the weight of their shared determination. They had been through so much already, each battle, each loss, leaving its mark. But they knew what they had to do.

"We'll move him to the safe house," Stevan finally said, his voice steady and authoritative. "It's close, secure, and the Order will have a perimeter set up. He'll have the best chance there."

Sirius didn't hesitate. "We'll move him now. We can't wait any longer."

By the time nightfall approached, the tension had escalated. Every shadow seemed to harbor a threat, every creak of the floorboard amplified in their minds. They weren't just moving Harry they were fighting time itself, a ticking clock that could strike at any moment.

The safe house was tucked away in the countryside, far from the prying eyes of Death Eaters and far from the last battle's devastation. A place that had been used by the Order in the past, though its purpose now felt all too real.

Stevan, Sirius, Neville, and Frank worked together to carefully move Harry. Each step felt like a victory, no matter how small. They made it past the wards without incident, but the air still felt thick with danger. Bellatrix was out there, somewhere. And she wouldn't stop until she got what she wanted.

Once inside, Stevan quickly set up a proper healing area, casting protective wards and checking Harry's vitals. The flicker of candles cast long shadows across the walls as the group settled into a grim silence. They knew their task was far from over, but there was a sense of temporary relief.

Sirius paced the room, his mind never at rest. "We'll need more protection. The Order can't just leave him here, unguarded. They'll be back for him. They won't stop."

Neville placed a hand on his shoulder, a steadying presence. "We'll be ready. Everyone's looking out for him now."

Frank, still recovering, sat quietly in the corner, his hand resting on his cane. He stared at Harry, a quiet determination in his gaze. "The Longbottoms owe him everything. We won't let them take him from us."

A sharp sound interrupted their conversation. A faint crack echoed from the shadows. All eyes turned toward the door.

"Bellatrix," Sirius muttered under his breath. He was already standing, wand raised.

But it wasn't Bellatrix. The figure that stepped into the dim light was a tall, cloaked figure, with a presence that seemed to fill the room.

Stevan's hand shot out. "Everyone, stay calm."

The figure stepped forward, and as the hood fell back, a familiar face emerged Remus Lupin.

"I had a feeling you'd be here," Remus said, his voice a mixture of relief and concern. "I've got news. The Death Eaters are regrouping. Bellatrix won't give up. But we've got a plan. The Order's mobilizing."

Sirius exhaled, his tense posture relaxing slightly, though his eyes remained focused. "Good. We're going to need all the help we can get."