A/N: This lengthy Author's Note addresses the recent Rowling controversies. If you don't want to read it or aren't familiar with this mess, no worries at all, the actual chapter's right below. ~~~

I get it: J.K. Rowling's persona non grata. She's cancelled. Still? I recommend you read the essay she wrote on this subject. Because it isn't transphobic. Maybe I'm naive or simply wrong, but her focus was on not eroding self-identification for ciswomen and not dismantling what that means for all of us in that group. How I interpreted it? She isn't saying that transwomen aren't women. Like, at all. She's saying that women (cis or trans) are consistently the ones being blamed and victimized by society. She's saying that being called a 'menstruator' is utterly demeaning. She's saying she doesn't want biological women's nor transwomen's experiences to be erased.

As a liberal bisexual woman who's been wolf whistled, overtly sexualized, referred to as a c—, and can't call myself a feminist because the term's been twisted due to in-fighting? I can see where Rowling's coming from. Especially since she was abused by her ex-husband (how is everyone skipping over this?). Do I think now is a good time for this discussion? No. But I don't think it's ever a good time.

There's another thing Rowling's been heavily criticized for: using Twitter to rewrite her stories (ie: making Dumbledore gay). I'm a professional writer (as my actual day job) and you'd be amazed how much gets edited out of rough drafts. For my fanfics alone I've had to drop more side-plots than I've put in, but will happily chat about them in the comments or PMs. Do I buy that Rowling had intended many of her revisions from the start but didn't have room in her books? Absolutely. But even if she didn't, this reminds me of the criticism of 'flip flopping'. If a politician's lying through their teeth and flip flopping for votes, that's wrong. But it's possible for someone's opinion to simply change. People can also realize they hadn't put as much representation into their series as they'd wanted to. If this was a character in a book, we'd be celebrating them for having character progression. We'd also be saying that her flaws make her human and that we should give her the benefit of the doubt.

Do I dislike that there's no…say…bisexual atheist women like me in "Harry Potter"? Of course. But it's only been in recent years that I've had any representation in media. When Rowling was writing in the 1990s, I was thrilled by other aspects of her books. I loved seeing smart girls who were unapologetically clever. I loved reading a world where religion wasn't a big deal (the final Jesus Figure aside). I loved seeing children who could reshape their world, revolutionizing their universe's equivalents of racism and sexism.

In "Cursed Child", I loved seeing how these same children could grow up, be wrong, and have to rethink their beliefs.

If you read Rowling's essay and still hate it, you could think about separating the creator's views from their creative content. For me? I appreciate someone's talking frankly about women's rights, and I have no desire to vilify someone just because I don't agree with all of their opinions or with how they phrased certain things. I'm torn about how Rowling drew trans rights into it (mainly because I'm not familiar with the medical studies she referenced, and because I'm not concerned about some of the issues she raised—for example, the whole bathroom thing). Though, overall, I don't see her essay as being transphobic or having malicious intent behind it. But hey! I get it, I'm not trans or a mental health professional. I don't know about this specific subject. What I can say is that I agree with her that women's rights needs to be discussed. I also agree that being called a 'person who menstruates' is dehumanizing and insulting (a family member brought up another point: what about older biological women who no longer menstruate? They don't count as women? In our quest to not offend, we're excluding millions upon millions of people).

I'm not cancelling Rowling (frankly, cancel culture is beyond toxic). I'll read her statements and continue forming my opinions from there. Please don't cancel somebody until you've read further than the headlines blasting them for being Voldemort. If you still hate her, call her a witch. Because goodness knows society needs some witches to hunt.

…

Anyone still with me? Haven't cancelled me yet? Sweet! As for my actual fanfic, I've completely lost track of the timeline for this story. I also remembered that I forgot to add in the numerous Weasley Next Gen. So, please go with it? Thanks!

…also please don't hate me, oh my gosh. Still, more important than any of that nonsense? I hope you're all staying safe and sane in these crazy times.

Tabby's sunglasses were off today.

"How you doing kiddo?"

"Ron!" She squealed, pausing in bouncing on her bed. "Hiya."

"Hi yourself." Ron grinned at her, taking a seat. "You look like you're doing better. Turn anyone to stone lately?"

Tabby plomped onto the bed, shaking her head. "Nuh-uh. Just some spiders. But you said they don't count?"

"Right-o." His grin only brightened. "But don't overuse it. Remember how we talked about using magic in moderation?"

Tabby nodded rapidly. She was so adorable. "Mama Weasley said I could have extra sweets if I went a week without needing goggles. I'm almost there! Sweets!"

"Good girl." Ron said fondly. "After you get a handle on that, you can practice transforming. Then when you get out of hospital, I can teach you loads of magic. How's that sound?"

Tabby squealed in response. He was momentarily wary when her eyes sparkled, but then it just ended up being cute and not fatal. Cool.

The phoenix squawked in his head. The Healers said this was psychosomatic. Harry stopped mentioning it.

But still, it—he?—kept making noises. It chirped joyfully whenever Ron or Hermione were there. It melted into coos when Ginny hugged him. It clucked over Lily, and Harry felt an urge to pick through her hair for bugs (…the hell?).

The phoenix cowered in fear whenever Lestrange was mentioned. It hissed at a Healer's swarmy grin, where it took Harry five more minutes to realise the bloke had messed up his medicine. It cawed angrily at a polite younger Auror long before she asked for his autograph.

"Remember back in Hogwarts," Harry reclined in bed while Ron ate a chocolate frog, "where we'd joke Hermione's voice had become our inner conscience?"

Ron laughed, finishing the candy. "Who was joking?"

"Yeah well," Harry scratched his ear, "I think a phoenix's invaded my head."

Ron looked askance. "This isn't another parseltongue thing?"

"I'm not hearing voices from walls. It's squawking in my head."

"Oh. Huh." His friend shrugged. "That's loads better."

"Ron."

"Can't I be happy you aren't hearing homicidal voices?" Ron paused. "Tell me the phoenix isn't convincing you to kill people."

"It caws at annoying Healers. Hisses at really irritating ones. Like it's trying to tell me they're bad or good."

"Before you you know if they're bad or good?"

"I guess."

Ron scrunched up his nose. "If Hermione were here, she'd say something smart about how this is, like, a personification of your inner gut."

"I don't think she'd say that."

"She's not here, is she. That's my point. Besides, I don't think it's your gut." Ron seemed introspective. Harry was weirded out by it (as was the puzzled bird in his head). "Don't take this the wrong way, but does the phoenix seem more or less real than the horcrux?"

There was a small silence.

"The lightning bolt scar one." The wizard unhelpfully clarified, drawing an exaggerated shape in the air. The phoenix cooed pleasantly, deciding that Ron was acting normally after all. "The secret one that was legit in you? Not the snake or the locket. Like, the horcrux that Hermione's still sort of convinced was controlling your—"

"Alright!" Harry cut in, uncertain why he'd let Ron get that far. "The bird feels as real as that horcrux. Much more real, in fact. Which is the problem: I'm far too aware of it."

"No-ope."

"Come on!" Ron exclaimed. "I thought you'd be the sane one. Therapy is good. Shrinks are swell. You should bloody well know that, being one."

Jacob coughed back a laugh. "I'm guessing some others have given you the run-around?"

"I'm trying to be responsible." Ron sunk into a chair. "I'm giving the adult advice of: say, you've been through some bs. Wanna talk to a therapist? No? You'd prefer to burn your hospital room down? Cheers, and screw you all!"

Jacob tried to keep a straight face. "I see you're going through some stuff."

"WHY?" Ron exclaimed. "You're supposed to be the mentally aware one."

"Ye-eah." Jacob answered. "I know a lot about this. Which is why I know therapy won't help me right now."

"But WHY?"

Jacob scratched his head. "Because I can't talk about it yet? Sure, I'll get there eventually. But for the moment I'll focus on medicine and mindfulness meditation."

"Medi…meditation?" Ron gawked. "You're a therapist!"

Jacob shook his head, grinning. "You are so lucky I'm taking this well. Dude, I'm not there yet. Think of recovery like a staircase. Therapy isn't always the first step."

"EXCEPT IT IS!"

"Maybe I'm in denial." Jacob shrugged. "Either way, I'm not there yet. I'm trying to take the healthiest steps I can to get through this."

"But…damn it." Ron sighed. "You know much more about this than I do. But can you give me any advice to talk the others into it?"

Jacob peered at him. "Y'said they're lighting their rooms on fire?"

"Yep."

"I'm not getting anywhere near that."

"Thanks a lot."

Ron had missed Harry, he absolutely had. He was also thrilled the bloke was regaining some colour and was occasionally smiling. He wasn't nearly as thrilled in remembering how high maintenance his best friend was.

"Six therapists." Ron gritted out. Harry was plucking at the blanket, pulling out threads. "You made two of them run screaming, are you proud of that? Another's convinced you're possessed, the fourth's threatening a lawsuit, and the last two think you're a messiah! All after you admitted you're honest-to-Merlin hearing voices. Or ah, squawking."

Harry stilled, glancing up curiously. "Someone thinks I'm possessed?"

"Why THE HELL did you impersonate Voldemort?"

"Oh. That." He scrubbed at his hair, not quite meeting Ron's flabbergasted look. "I thought it'd be funny?"

"You thought it'd be…"

"I was bored."

Ron stared, not responding for a minute. "You aren't going to ask about the messiah thing, are you."

Harry looked pleased with himself. "I didn't think trying to become a cult leader would work, but there you go. Were they really convinced?"

Ron thought about how his wife had had to be dosed with a calming potion when she'd heard. She was waiting off the potent dose on a nearby bed. "They're gibbering on about you being immortal."

"Well…"

"You aren't immortal!"

Another shrug. "Rose from the dead, didn't I. Multiple times. Quite a lot of times."

"Which is a bad thing!" Ron took further calming breaths, hating that he kept having to be the voice of reason. "This is exactly why you need a shrink. You aren't coping, you're beyond traumatised—"

"I'm getting better?"

"—and you need to deal with this. No waving it off, no bottling up your emotions. Talk to somebody!"

Another long silence.

"It didn't even take me three days to be reborn." Harry pointed out as Ron groaned, sinking his head into his hands. "Right impressive, that."

"The magimagus are so weird. Magimaguses? Magimagi?" Ron whistled. "Is that seriously what we're calling them? Whatever. They're weird."

Hermione looked up from her porridge. "The pluralization is strange, yes. Though, weird?"

"Weird. Like, Harry weird. I'm telling you tha—Rose, honey, why're you massacring your toast?"

The little girl looked up, confused. "Huh?"

"What'd the poor toast do to you?"

"Ohhh." Rose nodded, going back to mushing her toast. "S'fun. I eat it soon."

Ron considered this then shrugged. "Cool. Anyway, they are weird. Jacob? Great bloke. He has a list of phobias, and somehow he's a therapist and a boggart?"

"That seems oddly fitting." Hermione noted as she adjusted Hugo's hold on her. "Oh! Oh, love, not so tight."

"Then there's Moira Green. I'm not saying I blame her, but the woman has issues. I think she's psychotic against humans. Which, again, I'm not blaming her for! But what?"

"You have to give them a chance to recover. Things will go back to normal soon enough."

"Our 'normal' is insane."

"Would you have it any other way?"

Ron lounged back in the hospital chair. He was getting too used to these uncomfortable things (even with cushioning charms applied). The woman on the other side of the bed had the right idea: she was sitting upside down on the chair, feet criss-crossed against the wall and head hanging down to the floor.

"I still can't believe," Rebecca Lin laughed out, "that you're friends with Ronald Weasley."

"Oi!" Ron replied. "I'm friendly. Who wouldn't want to be friends with me?"

From the bed, Jacob rolled his eyes at the two of them. "Becca, could you not?"

"I'm just saying." Becca huffed, hair gliding over the floor. "That you're the crazy one. Moving back to the UK? Cool. Getting kidnapped and making international news? Bummer. Then rubbing elbows with British royalty?" She pointed at Ron.

Jacob looked at his sister weirdly, who was still sitting upside down. "I'm the weird one? Me?"

"To be clear, I'm not royalty." Ron chimed in. "Considering how messed up the royals are, I'm vaguely offended."

"See?" Jacob said to Becca. "That's what I mean. Don't annoy the war hero who's the Head Auror!"

"He's a softy." Becca brushed off. "We're besties Ron, yep?"

Ron was deeply rethinking visiting the other survivors so much. But the thing was, half the time he visited Harry the man was out of his mind. So what else was he supposed to do at St. Mungo's?

Then Jacob was alright. And Tabby was adorable. Also, it was probably a good idea to be on a good terms with people who could turn into dragons and dementors. Especially if they were a bit mental. Speaking of which…

"I'm not answering that." Ron said to Becca. Then turned to Jacob. "So, any thoughts of giving into therapy?"

"For the record? This is super hypocritical." Becca voiced up. "Jacob recommends therapy for everything. When I had a bad break up? Therapy would help it. When I had issues with my apothecary? Therapy. When I had the flu? Thera—"

"I did not say that." Jacob huffed. "I recommended therapy when it'd be beneficial. And…and look. Some things are too deep for this to work. I need to get through some level of it myself before I talk to someone."

Becca straightened up and sat properly on the chair. "Not to be insensitive, but you've made this argument before." She tapped her chin. "As I remember? Your fears of clowns, heights, and spiders were all 'too deep' to go to a shrink about."

Jacob made a face at her. "I was tortured!"

"Horrifically." She nodded. "But as I recall, a 'horde of spiders' also once attacked you."

"Because they did! It was horrifying."

Ron coughed, making both siblings look at him. "Not to butt in, but I see his point. A horde of spiders is terrifying. I remember one time? This so-called friend led me to a horde of acromantulas. You know, spiders as big as a house? Anyways, another so-called friend—Harry Potter, he's an idiot—decided to talk to these demons. Can you imagine? Even when they nearly ate us he barely panicked! I should've run right there and then, I'm telling you."

There was a deep silence. The siblings stared at him, slack-jawed.

Becca slowly pointed at her brother. "His horde of spiders," she said faintly, "was hiding under his pillow in a hostel."

Jacob nodded, staring at Ron incredulously. "What even is your life?"

Ron opened before closing his mouth, giving this a thought. "I just kind of run with it at this point. But why're you upset? I'm agreeing with you: spiders are devil spawn. It's even worse when they wanna eat you."

Becca gave a sudden, hysteric laugh. She turned to her brother with a smirk. "You're friends with this guy!"

"Oh no!" Jacob said quickly. "No no no, you're friends with him."

"Uh?" Ron looked between them.

Becca was chortling with laughter. "He's gonna drag you on terrifying adventures!"

"He absolutely is not." Jacob said in a strangled voice. "I'm going to continue being an introverted hermit, safe at home."

"I feel like I should be insulted." Ron said hesitantly. He also got a weird sense that maybe this was how Harry felt.

Hermione had been using scourigfy instead of a shower for a few too many days. She'd only realised this when she'd failed to tame her hair in the St. Mungo's bathroom. She pulled it up into a messy bun, splashed water on her face, and told her reflection that, yes, she was presentable enough.

It wasn't like it mattered. When she returned to the hospital room Harry looked up at her with the same grin he'd been wearing before. It wasn't his grin. They'd had many hushed discussions at the Burrow about 'that' grin. George thought Harry was faking being happy and was trying too hard. Bill guessed it was the drugs. Angelina thought it was the phoenix's influence. Ron said Harry had finally cracked. Mrs. Weasley had insisted they all stop gossiping, or at least make sure Ginny and her kids didn't hear ("Besides," Arthur had tutted, "Harry is clearly putting on a happy front for us. I can't believe he thinks he's fooling anyone.").

Hermione didn't have an opinion on it. Harry had a beating heart and a working face to grin with; she was satisfied. "Puddlemere won against the Arrows, 200/50."

A real smile replaced 'that' grin. He properly looked at her. "Brilliant! Can you smuggle me in a recording?"

"I'm sure I can work out something." She sat neatly on her usual chair by the bed. "Tyrannical Healers, hmm?"

Harry shook his head. "It's your Hit-Wizards. One little drugging and they insist on testing everything coming into this room! Can you tell them to lighten up? I'm not about to be kidnapped again."

It was Hermione's turn for a fake grin. The light reference to the Halloween gala raised her concern about his mental state. She didn't mention that she was behind the 'harsh' policy (and that hell would freeze over before she lightened it). "I'll talk to them. Oliver Wood sends his best, by the way. He's ecstatic over the win."

"That's another thing." Harry leaned forward, eyes searching. "What's with this ban over visitors?"

"We're only keeping the reporters out."

He gave a low chuckle. "Neville's Patronus said otherwise. He said the old DA's been 'appealing for entry' since I got back! There was also a mention of Seamus trying to hang-glide in?"

Hermione swallowed. "Seamus was pretty drunk."

"You've been keeping my friends from me?"

"We've, we've been…" they absolutely had been. But that wasn't the secret she was skirting around, "you aren't always fit for visitors."

"What do you mean? I'd love to see them!"

"I'm sure you would," she admitted, pulling at her puffy bun. "I'm not sure how aware of this you are, but you don't always have good days."

Harry stared at her. "What?"

She bit her lip and wondered if she should say anything. "You aren't well," she admitted like a confession. "You'll have sane moments like this, then you'll lapse back into—I'm not sure where your mind goes. We can't tell when it will happen and I don't know if you're aware of it. So you're right, we're keeping everyone but family away. I'm sorry. I'll let in anyone you want to see. But you should be aware of this first."

"Daddy's a bird."

"Ah, sure."

Albus gave him a toothy grin and Harry melted.

"That's right!" Harry corrected himself, shifting Al on his lap.

"We've been learning all about birds." Ginny added as Lily pawed at her blouse. "Can you say some of them?"

Albus giggled. "Snow birds—"

"Penguins." James said from his dad's other side. He was reading a comic book.

"—the swimming birdies—"

"Swans."

"—and da fire birdies!"

James paused. "I'm not even answering that one."

Harry ruffled James' hair, unable to keep back a grin. It was all so normal. Domestic. Wonderful.

"Then there's the best ones." Teddy plopped onto the bed, making James curse that his legs were being sploshed. "Ah, budge over. But yeah! The best ones? Occamies!"

"Occamies?" James frowned at him, still annoyed. "Do they make fire?"

Teddy tutted condescendingly. "Oh James, James. Picture a tiny snake bird. But then this snake bird can grow TO BE AS BIG AS A TOWN."

James' jaw dropped. "Really?"

"Yup." Teddy said smugly.

James turned to his dad slightly accusingly. "Can you…?"

Harry snorted as Ginny giggled. "No, I can't. Though I think occamies can only get around 15 feet—"

"AS BIG AS A TOWN!" Teddy hollered and flopped over the bed, making Albus and Lily squeal in unison. Ginny gave into the laughter.

Christmas had been sedate this year. Nice, though. There'd been an abundance of celebrations: at the Burrow, Shell Cottage, the Grangers' (decked out in belated Diwali fireworks, courtesy of George), and the Tonks'. But perhaps the happiest had been at St. Mungo's. They'd all gone a tad overboard in decorating the hospital room.

They littered the place with twelve Christmas trees, garlands and sparkly ornaments hanging from the ceiling, released golden snitches (again, courtesy of George), and an abundance of kids hurdling onto their dad or uncle. Harry's amusement with the whole thing gave hope to his family. So much hope, in fact, that Ron made the dubious decision that Harry had maybe recovered enough to get visitors. Maybe.

Family didn't count as 'visitors'. Nor did Luna: no one could be nervous around Luna! But letting the insanity of the DA in? That was something else.

So Ron reluctantly contacted the horde he'd been barely keeping at bay.

"People!" Ron told his barking Patronus. "You know how you've all been harassing me nonstop to see Harry? My Christmas present to you is a present to me to get your Howlers to stop." He realised that might not have been clear. "That means I'm letting you see him, ka-peesh? Harry's finally acting semi-normal, though he still has his weird moments. So let me know if you're free…say, this Saturday at noon? Cheers."

Within ten minutes of sending off the overly excited terrier, at least a dozen Patronuses had galloped back into his place. He couldn't understand the messages playing over each other. But he got enough that his friends were both pissed off at him and eager to meet up in two days. Grand.

It was the next day and it was quiet in Harry's hospital room. If anything, it became even more silent when his best friends came in.

Hermione looked nervous. Ron less so, though he seemed far from comfortable. "Hey mate, how're you doing?"

Harry was instantly suspicious. "Why're you looking at me like that?"

The couple exchanged an all-too familiar glance. Harry waited, knowing that one or the other would break. It was Hermione who coughed, squirming. "I know you want to see your friends—and you will soon, I swear! Actually, in just a day, if you'd like. We just need to catch you up on a few things first."

"Merry belated Christmas." Ron said weakly.

"Fantastic! And that's all?" Harry relaxed. "I've been expecting this conversation. What've I missed?"

"Y'know I'm Head Auror?"

Harry looked at Ron oddly. They hadn't discussed this, though he'd come to his own conclusions. "I thought that was odd," he admitted. "You hated the idea of the job. I assumed you took it because…" because Ron did the right thing. That was just what Ron did, "it was needed, I guess."

Ron swallowed. "That's fair enough. But I wasn't Deputy Head Auror. That was Susan Bones."

Harry laughed at the words, not having connected this one. "That's right! I need to say sorry to Sue. She only agreed to the job after I swore on my mum's grave that she wouldn't have to speak to the press: can you believe that?" He chuckled. "Let me guess, it was all of five minutes before she resigned? I have to give her the biggest apology. Is that why she hasn't been in yet? Because if she's embarrassed, tell her I completely get it. It was my fault, not her's."

Ron and Hermione remained stock still. Harry's chuckles trailed off.

"Sorry," Harry said, "I don't mean to make light of it. Especially not if she's taking it hard."

"That's not it." Hermione took a deep breath. "Susan didn't resign for months."

Harry blinked at her, pleasantly surprised. "Really? That's amazing, good for her."

"Actually," Ron grunted, "she didn't resign. She threw the Head Auror badge at me. I told her where she could cram it. She said we'd meet for lunch to talk about it. I was late. Susan was kidnapped."

Harry's world froze. "I'm sorry, what?"

Ron looked the most uncomfortable Harry had ever seen him. "Lestrange kidnapped and, and killed Susan Bones. Her animal form wasn't immortal. When she went missing, I extremely reluctantly became Head Auror."

Hermione choked on air, staring at her husband. "As I recall, you accepted Shacklebolt's offer right off the bat. Even when I begged you not to!"

"Hermione." Ron sighed.

"This idiot," Hermione turned to a horrified Harry, gesturing at Ron, "decided he'd be bait for the Sweenies."

"I did not!"

"Two Head Aurors were gone," Hermione hissed at her husband, "the MLE was in shambles, and I was all for getting rid of the position altogether. Don't tell Harry you 'extremely reluctantly' took the job! You were a reckless Gryffindor and jumped into the known danger."

Ron groaned, turning to a stunned Harry. "I didn't take the job to become 'bait'. I also didn't want the job. But NOT taking it was giving in! I wasn't giving the Sweenies the satisfaction."

"You risked your welfare!" Hermione grasped his arm too tightly. "We have two young kids, what were you thinking?"

"I was careful! Plus, I didn't disappear." Ron added. "Or did you miss that?"

"You aggravating, impossible man—"

"Susan's dead?" Harry cut in, his voice soft. The other two froze in horror, realising their argument.

"Yeah. Yes," Ron awkwardly pulled out of Hermione's grip, "sorry. We shouldn't have gone on about that."

"There's others, too." Hermione admitted.

"No. I don't—" Harry took an unsteady breath. The phoenix was battering his brain, but it was his tightening chest that was the worst. "Not now. That's, enough for now." Susan was dead. Had she been targeted because of him?

"Harry…"

"I'm fine!" He said quickly, not wanting his friends to treat him this gently (even though he felt a heartbeat away from panicking). "I get it, it's fine. Just not now. Can I, can I still see people tomorrow?"

They exchanged another hesitant glance.

"Maybe this wasn't a good idea…"

"I'll be fine!" Harry insisted, clamping down on the howling phoenix and trying to keep his words steady. "I want to see everyone. It'll make me feel better."

It would distract him. Maybe. Hopefully.

The other two still seemed uncertain, but reluctantly nodded.

"There's not much more bad news." Ron said awkwardly. "But you're right, let's deal with that later."

"Do you want to talk about it?" Hermione said in a small voice.

About Susan? Of course not. "I'm fine."

"I know you can't stand therapists, but we can bring in a counsellor and—"

"I can handle it." Harry said shortly, wishing they'd both leave him alone. "I have before, haven't I?"

Which was partly the problem. But the two at least seemed appeased. He just prayed the phoenix would stop weeping soon.

Alicia Spinnet and Katie Bell were the first to arrive. In no time at all, they cornered Ron.

"Sooo," Alicia drawled, "you have your whole 'I've known Harry since we were eleven' look. Well, we have too!"

"You weren't eleven." Ron pointed out, all too aware that they'd (literally) backed him into an uncomfortable corner. In a hospital waiting room. And he swore he could hear an approaching horde.

"Shut it Weasley." Katie humphed. "Angie's been insufferable. She's been going on about how a phoenix can flatten an entire Quidditch team and—"

"Hold up, wait?"

"—keeps saying it's 'super secret Weasley things'. Like that means anything!"

Ron had only just gotten away from them when Seamus barged in, dragging Dean and Neville close behind.

"We're seeing him first!" Seamus roared at Ron, pointing at him. Since his hand had still been holding Dean's arm, the man was pushed towards him. "Or I'm publishing the photos from your stag night. I'm not bluffing!"

Dean scrambled out of his hold. "That's a lousy threat. You were the one who got properly pissed. But uh, yeah Ron, we're seeing him first."

"We were here before you!" Alicia exclaimed.

In the next ten minutes the waiting room turned into a war zone as more and more people showed up. The first few tried to convince Ron, but as wizards and witches crammed in they began fighting amongst themselves for attention.

"Sonorus. EVERYONE, SHUT UP!" Ron roared after a bit. Surprisingly, everyone shut up and looked at him. "Quietus. Thank you. Now, is everyone agreed that I'm in charge?"

There were mild mutters of agreement.

"Let me rephrase. As the Head Auror, Harry's best friend, and the bloke who found him…my word's the final say, got it?"

There were more agreeable mutters.

"Good. So I've already planned out when you're going to see him. If you all act semi-sane, we'll get through this in one piece."

"Here's the ground rules. No questioning Harry, no sudden movements, and no commenting when he does something weird. You're being allowed IN SMALL GROUPS, not because you've been bugging me incessantly, but because Harry's going stir-crazy."

Looking out over the smushed people in the enlarged Mungo's waiting room, Ron took a moment to hate Harry for being so lovable. How could one man have so many friends? That is, the vast majority were also Ron's friends, but still. The maniacs had been owling and flooing him non-stop since the news about survivors had hit.

"Here's the important thing." Ron continued, making this as clear as possible. "Harry's been through hell. Anyone would go loopy after that, and he's no exception. Specifically, we think the 'inner phoenix' thing is doing a number on his emotions."

A hand was raised.

Ron felt he had a world of patience. "Hannah, why are you raising your hand?"

"Because you have your scary Auror face on." Hannah lowered her arm, not sheepish in the least. She elbowed the squished people away to stand. "My question's this: how much is the phoenix influencing him?"

"Extremely so." Ron halted, thinking of how to phrase this. "Let me put it this way. Say you've been tortured for a year, hmm? Being depressed and haunted wouldn't be surprising. Though also, Harry's stubborn, so it also wouldn't be surprising if he was his old sarcastic, cynical stuff. But you know what shocked me? After all that, one day I walked in and Harry was jumping up and down on the bed. When he saw me he grinned from ear to ear, then bounced off the bed to tackle me in a hug. There were no drugs, no medicine, no nothing. Just him."

Every single person stared at him in disbelief.

"Yes! Exactly, thank you, that's the proper reaction." Ron felt vindicated after Hermione's, 'it's just trauma' nonsense. "My guess is that every so often, the playful and hyper phoenix takes over Harry's personality. Like, he's still Harry. But he's a mess."

"Remember what I said." Ron warned with his hand on the door. The three men looked at him. "Act normal! I don't care if he does something weird or starts squawking. You're going to keep calm and carry on, y'hear?"

Seamus muffled a snort. "If it helps, the bloke's been crazy since day one."

"He's never squawked though." Dean pointed out, glancing at the door curiously.

Neville seemed the most contemplative of the three. "You said he sometimes acts normal?"

"Albeit more twitchy." Ron shrugged. "Think extreme emotions. If Harry isn't normal, he's either depressingly staring out the window, or is like a hyperactive kid who's high on mallowsweet."

"Which is the phoenix's influence?" Neville frowned.

"That's what Luna and McGonagall think, at any rate. They're as close to experts as we have. Alright," Ron turned the handle, "just be nice. Stay calm, go with it, and—"

"Oh my god, YES!" Harry exclaimed as soon as he saw the red hair entering. He was crouched at the end of the bed, a grin lighting his face. "I've been so bored you wouldn't imag—RON! Y'have my broomstick?"

Like hell Ron was giving Harry a broomstick in this state. He glanced at the people who had yet to enter, hesitating. This was obviously a hyperactive period. Yes, Harry wanted to see his friends. But Ron didn't want him to embarrass himself. He was about to forget about this whole thing when Seamus (of all people) nodded at him with a serious look. Against his better judgement he continued. "I don't have your broom, but I brought company. Who isn't family or Healers. You feeling up to it?"

If anything, the grin got wider. Ron reluctantly moved to allow the three to enter.

"Hi mate." Seamus said warmly. "You have no idea how good it is to see—UMPH!"

Seamus was nearly knocked over when Harry hurtled onto him, flinging the man into a massive, back-breaking hug.

Dean and Neville watched with stunned expressions. Ron tsked at them all. "I bloody well warned you," he said. "Harry? Maybe you should let go of Seamus before he breaks something."

"Oh no, sorry!" Harry quickly released and inspected his frozen friend. "Did I put you on fire? M'sorry, I know humans hate fire. But, wait, do you like fire? I think you like fire. …wanna blow things up with me?"

Seamus slowly opened and closed his mouth. "I guess?"

"Yay!" Harry hugged him again, which the Irishman hesitantly returned.

"Harry?" Neville spoke up, dumbfounded. "It's great to see you. But are you hugging people now?"

"Ye'h!" Harry's chipper answer was muffled by Seamus' coat.

"Boy Wonder's officially lost it." Seamus also sounded vaguely chipper, happy enough to hold the crazy wizard.

"What happened to him?" Dean asked Ron quietly while Neville took a stunned seat.

"It's the phoenix. Or the trauma. Or a good old mental breakdown." Ron shrugged this away. "At any rate, Harry's touchy-feely now."

Harry perked up, overhearing. "'m not trauma-whatever." He turned to Ron without letting go of Seamus. "'m happy seeing almost-flock."

"Almost-flock?" Neville mumbled.

"Almost-flock! Like explodey-man, drawing man, and plants wiza…" Harry's voice trailed off as he properly remembered the other two. He brightened. "Almost-flock!"

Ron neatly stepped away as Harry hurtled past him, dragging Seamus as he launched onto Dean and Neville.

"Oh no, Merlin no!" Seamus yelped as he collided with Neville. "Ron, you wanker! Help us out here."

"Harry?" Dean said gingerly after they'd all been knocked to the floor. "You feeling okay?"

"Ye'h!" Harry said happily, face and hands and body pressed against a stunned Neville. "SO GOOD TO SEE YOU."

"Ginny thinks it's the phoenix taking charge." Ron said without a hurry, or without helping his friends. "I think she's nuts and that this is a mental breakdown. We all know Harry was long overdue for one, right mate?"

"Wha'?"

"He's so cute." Ron said fondly, again making no attempt to help. "Out of his mind loco. At least he's not jumping out of windows today."

Harry perked up. "Can I jump outta—"

"NO!" Ron instantly became serious. "No jumping out of anything. You can't fly!"

"But whhhyyy?" Harry whined.

"Because you're mental, shut it! You can hug those three, focus on that."

Harry shifted back eagerly, tightening his hold. Dean gave Ron the bird.

Neville looked at Harry oddly. "The strange hug aside? It's good to see you. You aren't actually jumping out of windows, right?"

Harry humphed and gestured at Ron. "He won't let me. Meanie."

"Oh. Oh? I'm the 'meanie' for stopping you from hurting yourself? Good to know!"

"Wanna fly."

"You can't fly!"

"Fly!"

"YOU DON'T HAVE WINGS."

"Is," Dean hesitantly asked the others, "this an ongoing argument?"

"Sounds like it." Seamus said faintly. "Huh. Harry's finally lost it."

"SEE YOUR HANDS?" Ron continued to rant at his stubborn best friend. "THEY'RE HANDS. NOT WINGS!"

"WANNA FLY!"

"DO YOU WANT ME TO TIE YOU TO YOUR BED? BECAUSE I WILL!"

"NO FAIR!"

"YOU'RE ON THE SIXTH FLOOR!"

"Yeah," Dean cautiously crept away from the two shouting wizards, "this is an ongoing argument."

"You think?" Neville mumbled, still caught in Harry's tight hold.

"Please tell me that yesterday was a vivid hallucination."

"Nope. Err, sorry about that."

"Why didn't you check on me beforehand?"

"You'd been doing well! So I," a cough, "assumed you were cool with seeing people."

"Goddamn it." A pause. "You said they're here again today?"

"Yep."

"Okay. Fine, okay."

"You sure you're up to it?"

"No. But I miss them."

"I know, but it'll be alright. I'll send them in small groups, how's that?"

"Sure. Just—"

"Just?"

"Never mind. Send them in, it sounds good."

"Second try!" Ron called out to the crowded waiting room. "I'd apologise for the first try yesterday, but I warned you. View that first group as the guinea pigs. I've actually checked with Harry this time and he's sane today. Who wants to be in guinea pig group #2?"

"We should get another go!" Seamus called out, outraged.

"Shut it Seamus."

"But we got hyperactive Harry! Which was pretty hilarious…" Seamus considered this. "Y'know, never mind. I'm good."

Ron ignored the bloke. "I repeat: does anyone want to be the next guinea pigs?"

A myriad hands were raised.

"Please. Please! Puh-leeze." Oliver Wood pleaded, nearly kneeling by the bed.

Harry coughed back a laugh. "It's good to see you too. But in case you missed it, I'm in hospital."

"You're always in hospital." Oliver dismissed. "You can turn into a bird! Would you take that as the omen it clearly is?"

"For the last time, I have no interest in going pro. Plus, I hate omens. It's right up there with fate."

"You can turn into a bird!" Oliver cried out. "Your wife's retired from the Harpies anyway, so no team rivalries. Though, I'm sure the Harpies would love to have you."

"…I'm a guy? I'm also a bit old to—"

"So coach!" Oliver said in exasperation. "Never mind the Aurors, what'd they ever do?"

"Uh…"

"Quidditch, Potter! Don't turn your back on Quidditch. YOU CAN FLY NOW WHILE MASSACRING THE OTHER TEAM."

"I don't think phoenixes are allowed to play Quidditch."

"THERE'S NOTHING IN THE RULES ABOUT THAT!"

"You checked the rule book?" Harry blinked. "Scratch that, I'm the opposite of surprised. But I'm not barbecuing the other team."

"ONLY A LIGHT SCORCHING!" Oliver cried out as the Auror guard barged in and dragged him from the room.

Katie leaned back in the seat, tutting. "That is so like you."

"I know." Alicia laughed. "Are you trying to give Ollie a heart attack?"

"I don't get it." Harry sighed. "Angelina's been after the same thing. Why's everyone out for me to play Quidditch?"

"Because you can turn into a bird?"

"Apart from that."

"But seriously." Alicia clicked her tongue. "You're cool? Just mildly crazy?"

Harry shrugged. "I'm cool. Maybe more than 'mildly' crazy."

"Join the club, Potter." Katie patted his arm. "Though I have to say: things have been boring without you. The DA meetups have been a snooze."

"Mainly because all the Weasleys were super depressed." Alicia said idly. "I forget the last time George blew up something."

Harry gave a genuine smile. Not even at the words. It was just, chill. Normal. He was in such a good mood he didn't prod the phoenix to stop singing in his head.

"Just to be clear," Katie voiced up, "you're absolutely going to play Quidditch with us."

"No question." Alicia nodded.

"At least you two aren't screaming at me to do it." Harry replied cheerfully. Even Ginny was rather…enthusiastic when it was brought up.

"Because we're awesome." Alicia said.

"Absolutely." Katie heartily agreed.

"Ron's a moron." Harry said simply, which he felt summed up the situation. It also side-stepped his utter humiliation. "I can't believe he didn't check if…" his voice trailed off into a groan. "Let me start over. Hi Nev. I'm not dead and it's great to see you."

"You too." Neville seemed distinctly amused. "I hate to mention this, but d'ya know Ron didn't want us coming in because 'we got our chance yesterday'?"

Harry gave an even bigger groan, head in hands. "I love him, but he's an idiot."

"An idiot who saved your arse."

"Don't remind me." Harry reluctantly looked back up. "Why'd he let you back in? I'm thrilled to see you, but he's stubborn."

"I reminded Ron of something obvious." Neville let out a slow breath of air. "So, you. Negligible grasp of sanity?"

"That's putting it kindly. What'd you remind Ron of?"

Neville paused, face crinkling into an indiscernible expression. He spoke hesitantly. "That I have experience dealing with insanity. Not that I'm comparing the cruciatus to what you went through, but…" another pause, "we figured I might be able to help?"

Harry felt a spark of confusion before a hollow realisation settled. "Oh."

"Yeah." Neville leaned back. "Truth is though, I don't know what I could do. You're kind of impossible."

"Going on unchartered waters, that's me."

After who knew how many people, Harry was feeling overwhelmed. Though he mainly felt warm, and the phoenix had been singing for the last hour. The wizard hadn't had the heart to shut him up.

Ron knocked on the wall as he let himself in. "That's the last of them! You doing good?"

"Doing brilliant." Harry said. "Though I was wondering about a few people who weren't here."

"That insane crowd wasn't enough?"

Harry fidgeted. "The main two are, well, this is touchy. I don't want to be insensitive, but have you spoken much to Padma or Cho?"

Ron's grin slid off. "A bit."

"Are they doing okay?"

"They're alright." Ron hesitated. "Cho really wants to come. She just wanted me to check with you first if it'd be okay."

"Of course, it'd be great to see her."

"Cheers. Then, with Padma? Honestly, I don't know if she'll be in to visit."

Harry nodded. He lay back against the wall and closed his eyes. "Does she hate me?"

"'Hate' is a strong word—"

"Ron."

"It's not about you." A sigh. "I lied, she isn't doing great. Bloody hell, losing your twin like that?"

Harry silently agreed. "What did Roger and Parvati turn into?"

There was a long silence.

Harry reopened his eyes, saw Ron's stricken face, and realised what he'd said.

"Damn it, sorry." Harry cursed. "I didn't mean to say that. Forget about it."

"No, it's fine." Ron said weakly. "I can tell you—"

"Forget it, I don't want to know."

'"Harry, suffering like this proves you are still a man! This pain is part of being human —"

"THEN — I — DON'T — WANT — TO — BE — HUMAN! […] I DON'T CARE!" Harry yelled at them, snatching up a lunascope and throwing it into the fireplace. "I'VE HAD ENOUGH, I'VE SEEN ENOUGH, I WANT OUT, I WANT IT TO END, I DON'T CARE ANYMORE —"'

—Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix