A/N: Harry's one of my favourite characters. But wow, it's easy to torture him! I'm surprised I don't see more fanfics about him being captured/kidnapped. Or maybe it's only me with my gallows humour and touch of the macabre? Most of the whomping and hurt/comfort fics are too light for my taste. I want proper psychologic scarring and heinous villains, damn it!

I compared Death Eaters to Nazism in the first few chapters, quickly killed off Lottie Fawcett, and made an ongoing 'joke' that people were being baked into pies. Y'all saw this coming.

"No, no, not lied at all. No, I never lied.

Said she took the poison—she did—

Never said that she died.

Poor thing, she lived, but it left her weak in the head,

All she did for months was just lie there in bed.

Should've been in hospital, wound up in Bedlam instead,

Poor thing! Better you should think she was dead."

—Mrs. Lovett, Sweeney Todd

"Remember," Andromeda said, Teddy's head tucked in her hands, "you shouldn't startle him. He has been through so much, so best be gentle."

"I know," Teddy fidgeted. They were in the sterile hospital hallway, a guard looking at them sympathetically from a doorway.

"He won't look like himself dear, so don't be surprised if—"

"I know gran!" Teddy said impatiently, squirming out of her hold. He kept glancing at the door which the Hit-Wizard stood before.

Ginny gazed at the boy who was all agitation and nerves. She nearly wanted to smile at how much he resembled Harry in this moment (yellow hair excluded). "Teddy," she piped in, pulling the boy's attention to her, "the reason why we're being careful isn't because we doubt that you can handle it. We doubt that Harry can."

Teddy blinked up at her, slack-jawed. She could only imagine what was running through his mind. His godfather was his hero, indestructible.

"Harry hasn't reacted well to people outside of the family," Ginny said carefully, glossing over how the phoenix would sob when a Healer tried to hold him. "He also hasn't seen any of you kids yet. He's not at all dangerous! We're just concerned he might not take this well."

The confusion left Teddy's face to glumness. He stared at his toes. "Cause I'm not family?"

It was the women's turn to be slack-jawed. "No!" Ginny exclaimed, tilting his chin up. "No, of course not. You are absolutely our family! Never question that."

"Then why—"

"Harry hasn't seen any of his children yet," Andromeda said gently, exchanging a look with Ginny. "We thought, as the oldest, it would be good for you to go first. But it does come with the risk that he'll be anxious, which we wanted to make sure you knew about."

Teddy bit his lip, understanding in his eyes. "James and the others will see him soon?"

"Yes," Ginny ruffled his hair, smiling proudly. She thought of how she was slowly breaking it to her other kids. At least Albus and Lily were young enough that they'd just go with it. "We'll be right there with you. Are you okay with this?"

Teddy glanced around at the door again before nodding. "He looks like a bird, thinks he's a bird, and gets scared a bunch?"

"And you should be gentle with him," Andromeda added. "Even if he seems playful, he's recovering from injuries."

"Right. Okay." With that, the three of them headed to the hospital door. The Hit-Wizard gave them a friendly nod before standing aside, undoing various privacy spells as he did so.

Ginny was going to open the door, but Teddy beat her to it and galloped in. "Teddy—!"

"Uncle Harry?" Teddy looked around the room as the women caught up. "Uncle Harry!"

"Squawk?"

Ginny spotted the phoenix first, hiding half beneath the bed. "Hi sweetie," she cooed, getting on her knees and approaching him, "Teddy's here to see you. Do you want to come out and say hello?"

The phoenix shuffled back farther, blanket falling over his head. Ginny felt a movement and realised that Teddy was right next to her.

"Hey," Teddy said quietly, crawling towards the bed. Andromeda sent her a look but she could only shrug. "I heard some stuff'd happened to you. I know it's scary. I've been scared too, since you went away. Can you come out?"

Ginny made a choking noise, holding a hand to her mouth.

"We've really, really missed you." Teddy was right at the hanging blankets, fingers nearly touching the hiding phoenix. His voice grew softer, so quiet that Ginny could barely hear. "I've been scared too. Dad, are you there?"

Okay, there it was. Ginny knew she had no chance in holding back tears. "Teddy," Andromeda choked out, "I don't think he's—"

"Twee?" The phoenix's head poked out, eyes uncertain.

Teddy pulled his own head closer. "You're super small," he whispered, "and you don't look like m'dad, but that's okay. I won't hurt you."

The phoenix sneezed then shook his head.

"You aren't scared? That's good." Teddy paused, thinking. "You nervous?"

"Tweeeeet."

Teddy giggled, hair turning a bubblegum pink. "That's it? I know you aren't human right now, s'cool. Doesn't mean you aren't you."

Ginny has given up any attempt to keep back her tears. From the sniffling noises behind her, Andromeda was having a similar problem.

"Caw caaaw." The phoenix came out from under the bed and hopped onto Teddy's lap. The bird nuzzled against his arm.

"He likes me!" Teddy cheered. Then he made an odd noise. All of a sudden his head was buried in the feathers. "I thought you were dead!" His whisper was muffled: fingers clenched around the tiny body. "Like mum 'n dad. They had a grave an', an' a funeral, an' I ran 'way 'cause I didn't wanna be there. Sorry 'bout dat." A sniffle. Ginny reached out but then thought better of it. Teddy turned to her, voice back to normal. "Is, is this really Uncle Harry?"

Ginny opened then closed her mouth. Was it? "We think so," she convinced herself as well. "It's like we told you, about how your father could turn into a wolf, and how his friends could transform into a dog and a stag?"

"Yeah."

"It's really similar. Only, Harry was transformed into a phoenix."

Another loud sniffle. "He'll turn back?"

Ginny couldn't speak. Couldn't breathe. Andromeda stepped forward: "He will dear. It will just take time. Until then, can you keep the phoenix company?"

Teddy nodded furiously, fingers still clenched in the feathers.

Hermione held the folder as she stood outside of the Azkaban interrogation room. Her mind was flooded with more anger than she'd known could exist. She'd not asked Ron to come because she knew (knew in her heart, her brain, her gut) that he'd kill the prisoner. Probably not on purpose—but while her anger simmered, Ron's exploded.

She'd also taken two calming potions, so it was a wonder she was still feeling this horrible.

She took another deep breath, nodded to the guards, and entered the room. That's when she got her first proper glimpse of the man. Rodolphus Lestrange looked far more healthy than he had any right to be. Black and silver hair curled around his ears and a small, welcoming smile lit his lips. It was as though he was an elderly gentleman welcoming her to his home.

"Ah!" Lestrange said in delight, not minding that he was in a grim room and tied to the chair, floor, and table. "Director Granger-Weasley, it's a pleasure. I would offer you a seat but, well." He shrugged in his handcuffs.

Hermione stepped forward. "Have you been read your rights?" She gritted out, sitting. He nodded amicably. "Good. You can have a lawyer present during all interrogations. We can provide one, or you'll be allowed one vocal Floo call or owl to—"

"I have no need for a lawyer," he shrugged away. "I'll be representing myself."

She stopped, thrown off guard. Lestrange was supposed to be brilliant, why was he making such a stupid mistake? Still, she wasn't one to look a gift horse in the mouth. "You're positive? You will be at a severe disadvantage during trial."

"It's no matter." Gold loops tethered his wrists to the table and his ankles to the ground. Alongside the magical loops around his neck and chest, she knew he couldn't escape. She was still unsettled.

Hermione gave him a long look. She'd thought this would unnerve the Death Eater (what with her 'blood status'), but he just smiled back. "Very well. If this point is disputed in trial, Pensieve evidence will be shown of you turning down council."

"I would expect nothing less, not from the legendary Hermione Granger-Weasley." Lestrange's voice was calm, friendly. "Dotting all your 'i's and crossing all your 't's, eh? I imagine that's how one gets to be the Director of Magical Law Enforcement."

Whatever she'd been expecting from Lestrange, it hadn't been this. Even ignoring the rest, he got her last name right! Some of her Hit-Wizards got it wrong. Then, 'legendary'? What was he playing at?

She tried to match his calmness. "I'm surprised you're showing me a modicum of respect."

"Oh, my dear." his eyes twinkled. She yearned to slap him. "We wouldn't have a society without respect. Everyone has their little title, everyone has their place."

Hermione stared at him for another long moment. "Where is Harry Potter's place?"

"It changes," Lestrange said lightly. "I always did address him as Mr. Potter, you know."

"Your notes say differently." Hermione opened a folder. "Like the pages titled 'golden goose'. Did you call him that?"

"Often. A miracle, Mr. Potter is. A very fortuitous and profitable miracle."

Hermione took a deep breath, yearning her mind to shut off. "It was about the profit for you?"

"In part," he said nonchalantly. "Much in that folder will tell you similarly. We automised the beheadings and quick agings, you see. We were able to decapitate him fifty times a day once we truly got moving! Do you have any idea how expensive phoenix heads are?"

Don't think about it, don't think about it, don't think about it. "Funny," she got out through her swollen throat, "this folder lists many other causes of death."

"My associates did like to have fun. Unwind at the end of the day." He smiled in remembrance. "A favourite contest was to see who could make him spill the most healing tears. Some whinged him out, which was effective. But I kept my record from early on." He leaned forward, eager. "It was when Mr. Potter still had his human thoughts. I trapped him in his worst memories, then fooled the fellow to think all of his loved ones had died! The tiny phoenix couldn't stop sobbing. I believe," he said contemplatively, "that I had you skinned and fed to werewolves. Ginevra Potter was my favourite, though. I made him believe she'd killed herself and their child right after giving birth."

Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry. "While he still had his human thoughts?"

Lestrange chuckled. "Come now, he must be at St. Mungo's. Surely you've noticed that Harry Potter is dead?"

"When I left, my relatives were playing with a very joyful phoenix."

"Isn't that what I said?" He clucked his tongue. "That doesn't sound anything like Mr. Potter, now does it."

It didn't. God, it didn't. Hermione thought it a wonder her calming potions were even marginally holding. "I'm glad to say," she said tightly, "that's one murder count you've managed to avoid. That is, if we don't end up charging you by head."

Lestrange chuckled. "I'm sure it makes no difference, what with the other few hundred murders you'll want to discuss."

"Is that a confession?"

"Dear me, no. I am defending myself, but I'm not a fool." Lestrange kept on with his infuriating smile. "I will plead not guilty to every murder."

Hermione stiffened. "You just spoke of beheadings, on the record."

"Ah ah," Lestrange replied, "I killed a phoenix. Not a human. At most, I confessed to animal cruelty—"

"You killed them!" Apparently those calming potions were wearing off.

"It rather depends on your legal definitions." His eyes narrowed, good nature darkening. "The survivors are not animaguses, that should be clear. In fact, the potion they took was more along the lines of permanent transfigurations."

"What of it! That's a technicality."

"There's the rub. You will find, Director Granger-Weasley, that everything rests on technicalities. If—as I imagine—the public scares itself into a frenzy about dementors hiding amongst them, the survivors will be declared as something along the lines of half-breeds. I shouldn't have to remind your activist self that half-breeds have very few rights."

Her heart thudded for a beat. There were already rumblings in the press, but surely people wouldn't…

"You fed humans the potion," Hermione gritted out, putting aside how easily she knew the British public could turn cold. "Even ignoring the survivors, that's hundreds of people!"

"Ah, but I didn't give them the potion. My coworkers did."

"You were in charge of them!"

"I?" Lestrange said. "Not at all. That would be Serena Rowle. I was a...what is the word? A flakey. Much like what happened with my involvement under the Dark Lord. You'll find that very little can be traced back to me, since I committed few crimes."

Hermione stared at him. "One dose of veritaserum and—"

"It is my right to refuse it." Lestrange peered at her. "I imagine you would dose me anyway. But this is the most public case of your career. Do you really want it to fall through because of one mistake? My my, you wouldn't want to disappoint Mr. Potter like that."

Hermione couldn't believe how quickly this 'interrogation' had derailed. She felt like she was on a boat that Lestrange was captaining, churning them through harsh waves, moments from throwing her overboard. "We have mounds upon mounds of evidence against you. They go back decades, including your horrible experiments during the two wars."

"Records that," Lestrange noted, "I believe you will find, do not ever mention my name."

"There are survivors!" She hissed. "Just one memory from them of you…of you…"

Oh.

He smiled at her.

He'd never left survivors before.

Lestrange was his own lawyer. His 'not guilty' plea would require a trial. To use victims' memories they needed to testify, which meant they could be cross-examined by…

Rodolphus Lestrange sat comfortably, his smile amiable.

"He's pleading not guilty."

"Bastard," Ron said idly, trying to hold the phoenix still. "Come on you, you've gotta eat! Just one more spoonful."

"Creeee," the bird bounced on his lap, beak merrily missing the frustrated wizard's food.

Hermione took a seat. "Lestrange is his own lawyer."

"Idiot." Ron didn't look away from the phoenix. At last, he got a few spoonfuls in.

"He's forcing a trial."

"Screw him."

"Ron," Hermione said warily, "Lestrange claims he never killed any humans, just animals. The victims will need to testify and he can question them. Pensieve memories likely won't be enough and he has a right to refuse Veritaserum."

He slowly put down the spoon and turned to her. "If this is your idea of a prank, it isn't funny."

Hermione was miserable. "It'll be ages until the trial. Maybe we'll find evidence directly linking him, or maybe the victims will have recovered enough to—"

"Are you mad? Harry isn't testifying." Ron cupped the phoenix's head and faced him to Hermione to emphasis. "He's a bird!"

"Squaaawwwk," the bird lazily replied, squirming in the hold.

"Once he returns to his human form—"

"He'll be crazy and traumatised!" Ron uncapped the beak and huddled the phoenix to him, seemingly unbothered by the flapping wings. "Not happening. Get someone else to do it."

Hermione rubbed her forehead. "From the notes, it seems like Lestrange did leave the killings to his minions. Except for Harry, where his records don't specify. I'm positive Lestrange left it out on purpose."

"Harry isn't testifying! I'm not letting him anywhere near Lestrange. Merlin, I can't believe I have to say that." Ron paused, a thought occurring to him. "Hold up, you said Lestrange confessed to killing animals. Those weren't creatures, they were people! Nail him!"

"He's covered that too," she said drily. "He's only admitting to…to beheading the phoenix. He claimed that, by the legal definition, Harry wasn't human at the time. Thus, not murder." She hesitated. "He has a small legal point."

"Have you gone mad?"

"Lestrange isn't right from a moral or ethical point of view! But," Hermione was so tired of this day, "technically, Harry isn't an animagus. He also isn't a phoenix."

"Yeah, because he's human!"

"Except," she hesitated again, "that's not what the legal definition is. The question comes down to what species the survivors will be classified as."

"You're joking."

"Unfortunately, I'm serious." Hermione sighed. "The papers are asking about this too, haven't you seen? The survivors aren't magical creatures, that's clear. But as the potion altered their actual magic and being, they aren't humans either."

"Then what are they!"

"Half-breeds, like werewolves? Beings, like house elves? I don't know. But love, as our laws stand, Lestrange only confessed to murder if Harry can be labelled as human at the time. I don't think we can prove that."

"So what, Lestrange gets off?"

"No. If we can get anyone to turn on him, he's done. If we capture Serena Rowle, we can trap them both. If we can convince the Wizengamot, he's through." She hesitated. "But, if no one flips, there's a small chance Lestrange could argue our evidence is circumstantial. In that scenario? We have to prove that Lestrange literally fed the potion to Harry when he was a human, which resulted in his death."

Ron looked from Hermione to the phoenix, gaze hard and unrelenting. "He's not testifying."

"It might—"

"He's not testifying. Besides," he pursed his mouth, "there's other ways to deal with Lestrange."

Once again, they tilted on the edge of something neither could say. Hermione was dimly relieved it wasn't due to another horrifying reality, and was simply because they both might need plausible (Veritaserum-proof) deniability of a conspiracy.

"You're right," she said simply, meeting Ron's eyes with a tiny smile. They were both on the same page, just as they nearly always were. He—the reckless, relentless Gryffindor. She—who'd set Severus Snape on fire and had obliviated her own parents. They were loyal and terrifying and a bit stupid to boot.

"No sneaking into Azkaban." Hermione thought she'd put up a token effort. "Lestrange should stand trial. It's about closure and it's not just for us."

"Yeah yeah. But if Lestrange gets off, maybe the lout will feel remorse. Maybe he'll feel so goddamn horrible that he'll…" Ron paused, considering, "jump off Big Ben."

"Or light himself on fire," Hermione mused. "Or, perhaps the killing curse?"

"Or," Ron continued vehemently, while still brushing the relaxed bird, "Lestrange will stab himself in the back five bloody times!"

Hermione sent him a look. "We're speaking of hypothetical suicides, husband."

"Well I'm speaking about killing the bastard!"

She closed her eyes, willing herself to be patient. "Let's," she said pointedly, "not obviously implicate ourselves in his murder. Hmm?"

Ron was back at Cho Chang's. Back having a drink. He thought she'd hex him out her door, but she'd let him through without a word. Neither had said much since.

"I'd figured it out," Cho said into her glass. She wasn't crying or emotional. "After you made a fuss over my allergies, and about nobody telling me about the, the kneazle. It wasn't hard to connect the dots."

Ron shifted his own wine glass. He tried to think of a response. He failed and mentally shrugged. "Ravenclaw."

"Gryffindor." Cho countered lightly, eyes out of the window. "Or are you telling me you didn't charge in wands-blazing the moment you found the Sweenies?"

She had a point. "I made a plan," he defended himself. "I even coordinated it with the Ministry, I'll have you know."

"Oh, I'm sure." Cho said in the same monotone. Then she sighed. "There's only two things I give a damn about. First, the reporters have said that Harry's—"

"Alive, yeah." Ron drank another swallow before continuing. "He turned into a phoenix and I have no idea what to do."

Cho closed her eyes and heaved a deep breath. "Second. Did the Death Eaters keep records?"

He didn't have to be a Ravenclaw to see what she meant. "Lestrange's evil incarnate who kept detailed notes." He swayed on the truth she wanted to know. "We're still going through them, but I looked up a few people. Your fiancé…Cho, Roger didn't suffer long. The Death Eaters broke into your home, there was a struggle, and he was fed the potion. It killed him within minutes." He looked at her, even though her gaze was still adrift. "Which sounds horrible, and it is. But when Lestrange is involved, I swear to you there are much worst things than dying."

Ron immediately thought he'd said precisely the wrong thing. Blimey, her fiancé had died and that was his solace? He wouldn't be surprised if she punched him. But instead, she turned her gaze back to him. There was a haunted understanding in her eyes. "I'm guessing," she said slowly, "that Harry wasn't so lucky."

Lucky. It was such a tiny word. "A bunch of Death Eaters captured the Boy Who Lived and accidentally turned him maybe-immortal." Ron looked forlornly at his empty glass. "Lestrange kept detailed notes on Harry too. I started reading those, then realised I'd prefer to be able to sleep peacefully."

Cho made a small noise, bowing her head. "I'm preparing a funeral. A proper one, this time. An actual good bye."

"If I wouldn't be intruding, I'd love to know the time and place."

"As long as you tell me when Harry can have visitors."

"Not daddy!" The little boy shouted, sulking on his bed.

"James," Ginny tried to keep back her exhaustion. Tried to be an understanding mum. Tried to have the patience of a saint, "I know how complicated this is. I'm confused too, and scared. But we can figure this out together if you'd only—"

"I'M NOT GOING!"

Ginny rubbed at a growing headache. She considered just grabbing James and hauling him away (as she'd had to do for family functions lately), but that obviously wouldn't help. Sweet Merlin, the thought of putting her son mid-temper tantrum in front of a terrified phoenix!

Also, James wasn't being unreasonable. She got it. To be told your dad's missing, then it being taboo, then going to his funeral, then being told your father's a bird? No wonder James didn't want to visit.

"Don't wanna," he puffed, arms criss-crossed. She sat down next to him, getting a better look at his pouty face.

Or, no, it wasn't just a pout. Ginny shifted his fringe to the side to see—yeah, he'd been crying. She sat against the pillows with him, arm encircling his shoulders. "Jamie, I'm not going to force you to do anything."

"I don't wanna see him," James mumbled, now leaning against his mum with a hand threading through the blanket. "I don't get it. You said that rock was him, and now a bird's him?"

"I, I meant that the headstone was—" Shit. This whole thing made her feel like a failure of a mother. Maybe the Daily Prophet's articles were right after all. She hugged him tighter. "Remember when I said they'd never found dad? Because he was gone for so long and we were so sad, we…I thought he was gone forever. I was wrong, baby. Your Uncle Ron though, he kept searching, and he found him."

"Found a bird," James grumbled, "not daddy."

The other kids had taken it better. Though…Albus and Lily were too young to care, and Teddy was much more familiar with death and stories of animaguses. Wait, that was it! "Have I told you much about your grandpa James and his friends?"

The boy slightly brightened. "The Marau'ers. Both my names are them."

"That's right, you were named after the first James Potter and Sirius Black. They had a special talent and could turn into animals."

James frowned. "Ye'h. They were helpin' Teddy's dad?"

Oh good, she had told him the story. "That's right. Sirius and your Grandpa James were both very smart and figured out how to sometimes transform into a dog or a stag. A stag is like a deer but with antlers…actually, it doesn't matter. Your dad though, well, he didn't quite do that. The bad men who took him forced him to drink a, a potion." Her voice faltered. "It turned him into a phoenix, a type of bird."

"I know!" James said impatiently. "You told me an' Unca an' Auntie told me. But grandpa could turn back, right? Even Teddy's dad turned back. This bird's a bird! Not dad!"

"Your dad can't turn back right now," Ginny said tiredly, "but that's why it's so important that we be with him. So that he remembers he's human."

James looked away, even more upset. "It's a bird," he mumbled, "doesn't 'member me. Not my dad."

Ginny's breath hitched in her throat. That was the problem? "No baby," she gathered him into a proper hug, pulling his unresisting form close to her, "he absolutely remembers you! The bird has been very shy around humans, except for his family. He's been so happy to see us and I know he can't wait to see you!"

"You can't talk to birds!" James wailed, a sob now in his tone (albeit muffled from being pressed against her shirt). "You don' know!"

"I, I don't know for sure, but—"

"It's not daddy!"

Ron was having a hell of a month. A heaven of a month? A weird month, at any rate. But at least this part was unambiguously good. Waltzing out of the hospital room he grabbed Lisa (Who squeaked. She looked tired, he knew she'd been at St. Mungo's nearly as much as he'd been) and pulled her down the hallway. "Stop squirming," he rolled his eyes, "things are cool. I wanna chat with you lot."

"Lot?"

In answer, Ron pulled open a waiting room door. Luckily, Orla and Euan had beaten him inside, so he didn't look crazy. "Yep, you lot." He grinned around at them. "You three are bloody well amazing and I wanted to thank you properly."

Orla turned beet red, though not as red as Euan. Lisa chuckled and took a seat on a low table, crossing her legs. "We just did our jobs."

"Nope," Ron corrected her, "the three of you had the right theory from the start. It was because of your stubbornness about the Sweenies and the Rippers being the same that we looked in that direction! That, combined with everything else, deserves a hell of a thank you."

"You came up with the immortal creatures," Orla said softly. "You and the Director."

Ron chuckled. "According to the papers, half of Britain was in on this 'secret'. Nah, Hermione and I are overrated. Which was exactly what I told the Wizengamot when I corralled them together for an emergency meeting."

Lisa did a double-take. "You did what?"

"Did I not mention?" he said without concern. "I knew you'd all be humble and stuff if I asked. So I did it behind your back and properly sung your praises, as did all the War Heroes I quickly flooed." He didn't mention the part where he'd kicked the protesting Neville, Dean, Seamus, and countless others away after the meeting. The D.A. just didn't understand that Harry wasn't seeing visitors.

The three Aurors stared at him, confused.

"So!" Ron clapped. "I'm inviting you three to your 'Order of Merlin' award ceremony. It's a semi-gala, it'll be boring, but you'll each get a hunk of gold at the end of it. Sounds good?"

Orla looked faint. Euan seemed an inch from passing out. Ron memorised the look on Lisa's face, which was a cross between sheer horror and euphoria. It was pretty impressive.

"You…you got us…"

"Orders of Merlin. Second or third class, they're still debating that."

"For the last time," Ron kneaded his forehead, "Harry isn't seeing visitors. He's insane. Stop bothering me or I will, actually literally, set every Auror in Britain on you. I can like, do that now."

"Nah, you wouldn't." Seamus scoffed, calling his bluff. "Come on! It's October, we've given you lot plenty of time. We've been quietly over here minding our own business—"

"Quietly?" Ron yelped. "You three've sent me dozens of letters!"

"We're concerned." Neville mediated. "It's been two weeks since he's been back—which, wow. The press has been wildly speculating. 'Wildly', even by Potter standards. So it's not crazy we're checking he's alive. True, we might've overdone the letters…"

"And Patronuses! And Howlers! AND BLOODY WELL FLOO CALLS AT 3AM!"

"So I was tipsy!" Seamus defended.

"Look, look!" Dean spouted as things spiralled out of control. "Harry's safe in hospital and not-dead, yeah?"

Ron breathed, calming down. "Yeah."

"He's definitely alive?"

"Yep."

"Cheers. So he's insane and in a magical creature's body?"

"If you mean Harry doesn't think he's human," Ron scowled, "then yeah. He also isn't comfortable around people not his family, which is why you can't see him."

Seamus opened his mouth but Dean roughly nudged him. Neville blinked. "Alright. That makes a fair amount of sense. But you've got to see where we're coming from." Neville sighed, thinking. "Can we compromise? What did Harry transform into? Also, when do you think he can have visitors?"

"What the hell do you mean," Seamus said instead, "by 'insane'? Harry's always been insane."

"Super insane," Ron corrected. "He thinks he's a goddamn phoenix. Looks like one too. He even bursts into flame and stuff, and shoots fireballs at the Healers. Or turns his bed into ashes. He's also set five Hit-Wizards' wands aflame. So? We're keeping you idiots back for your own safety. But, if ya really wanna go in there…"

Dean gawked, before slowly closing his mouth. "Ah. Okay. We'll, eh, tell the others Harry isn't up for visitors."

"Boy Wonder's a phoenix?" Seamus said, more in shock. "Son of a bi—"

"This is Harry? Harry Harry? You aren't having us on?"

Renée shrugged, watching as Cassie yammered over the phoenix. "I guess?"

"Yup," Ron answered, stretching by the wall. Blimey, he was tired. It was all to do with this racing up and down the country. Or dealing with reporters. Or his family. Or the Aurors. Or the phoenix in the room.

"Twee twee twee. Twee twee Twee." The phoenix plopped along the blankets with the little girl—Cassie all giggles while she hurried after him to pet his feathers. Ron watched carefully. This wasn't a test to see how the phoenix would do with children, though it kind of was. They'd all been debating when to bring in the mini-Potters and Weasleys. Sure, Harry had reacted well to Teddy. But the kid was a metamorphmagus and a little bit werewolf, so that could've helped calm the phoenix.

Dudley kept gaping. "Is this normal for wizards?"

"Nope," Ron replied, smiling slightly as the phoenix clucked over his niece. That is, almost niece. Cousin's daughter? Whoever Cassie was.

"I've," Renée stammered, "heard about 'animaguses'. But I didn't think they—"

"They don't," was Ron's answer to every possible question. "Wizards and witches should only be able to turn into normal, non-magical animals. Not birds that can spit fire."

Dudley continued to stare. "Then why—"

"Because Harry's insane," Ron replied, smiling as Cassie imitated the phoenix's chirps.

"Ah." Dudley nodded with sudden wisdom. "Right."

"He's alive though," Ron pointed out helpfully, "so that's good."

"Yes," Renée said faintly, "very good. Is he stuck like this?"

"Squawk squawk!"

Ron heaved a sigh. "Hell if I know. Just be glad he's not barbecuing you like he keeps on with the Healers. He's only been calm with his family so far. So, congrats I guess?"

"Healers?"

"Doctors, dear." Renée answered. "They're what they sound like."

"Ah," said Dudley, a bit less wisely. "Right."

"Dada!"

"Yeah! Dada!"

"Birdy!"

"You are so smart, oh my gosh." Ron cooed over his nephew. Okay, sure, his daughter had understood the situation first (and had been flipping over the moon that not only was her godfather back, but that he could fly now), but Albus had been pretty quick on the uptake. James had gotten it nearly immediately, but hadn't taken it well. Ron couldn't blame the kid for refusing to come. He didn't know how he'd have taken anything at all similar to this at his age.

"Bird-da!"

It was also possible that Albus totally didn't understand the situation. But the kid was smiling, happy, and bouncing down the hospital corridor, so Ron took that as a win. He also couldn't wait to get Rose and Hugo in here, though he reluctantly agreed that Ginny had first dibs.

"Oi!" Ron called back, taking back Al's small hand as he did so. "Hurry up, slowpoke."

"Slow!" Albus helpfully echoed.

"I'm walking with a speedy baby here, thank you!" Ginny called back, hunched over with her pinkie held in her daughter's tiny fist. Lily ambled forward awkwardly, pointing at everything as she went. Every little while she'd fall with a Plomp! though would giggle and push herself back up.

"You do know you can carry her?"

"It's good to encourage walking," Ginny shot right back, tucking Lily's drool covered red hair behind an ear. She got a confused expression in return. "Are you walking? Yes you are! You're—yes, that's Uncle Ron. Good pointing. And that's an interesting wall, that's a nice floor, and…oh no, sweetie, don't turn around, we're going this way. Can you walk this way? Can you point this way?"

Ron exchanged a glance with an on-duty Auror before waltzing back to mother and daughter. "The blind leading the blind. Up we go!"

"Aiaaa hagoo!" Lily laughed as Ron swung her up, carrying her down the corridor.

Ginny rolled her eyes and took Albus' hand instead with a smile. The four of them got to the right hospital door at a much faster rate.

"Al baby," Ginny crouched down, cupping her son's chin, "remember what mummy said? Daddy won't look like daddy. Daddy's a bird."

"Bir-daddy!"

"I think that's the closest we're gonna get." Ron didn't even attempt to explain this to the almost-toddler in his arms. "Let's just hope no one freaks out."

Ginny sighed but agreed, going past the guard and opening the door softly. "Harry? Harry, you have more special visitors."

Ron entered the room in time to see a confused phoenix emerge from under the bed. The confusion turned to utter confusion, than wide eyes, until the bird froze stock-still.

Albus rambled forward, arms outstretched and fairly steady on his feet. "Birdy! Daddy daddy, you daddy?"

"Tweeee…" the phoenix hopped in place, looking from person to person in what seemed to be shock. Ron decided now was a good time to hang back with Lily, letting the girl point cheerfully at the wall (and at him, the ceiling, the bed, and in her nose).

"Do you remember Albus?" Ginny said gently, though was focussed on her son. "Al, be careful with him."

"Yea' yea', muma." Albus plopped down in front of the phoenix, grin in place. "Dada teeny. Fly?"

"Twee," the bird said in a tiny voice. He flapped his wings uncertainly, which made the boy laugh in delight. The phoenix took some encouragement from this. "Twee! Squawwwk," the phoenix hopped forward, sniffing Albus before launching into his lap. "TWEET TWEE!"

"That's a happy phoenix," Ginny said in some amazement.

Ron shrugged, trying to get Lily from sticking her hand in his mouth. "He recognises his 'chick', and he's not as shocked as he was with Teddy." He leaned his head back, keeping the baby just enough away that she kept trying. "It's good, he's bonding."

"Oh yeah, they're bonding," Ginny said. "He's now licking his hair."

"Hold up, what?" Ron turned to see that, indeed, the phoenix was licking Albus' squirming face. "Uh, okay."

"He's checking him for bugs, I know that much." Ginny shrugged at Ron's silent question. "Apparently it's a bird thing. It means he understands he's his son. He was doing it a bit with Teddy too."

"Oh. Cool. Birds are weird." Ron and Ginny watched as the two interacted, Albus fluctuating through a wave of emotions in the minutes that followed. Though happiness seemed to be the main one. As well as sleepiness. He had just been bouncing off the hospital walls, after all.

"Maybe we should switch them out," Ginny said quietly as Albus' yawns turned to using the joyful phoenix as a pillow. "Harry? Honey, I'm going to take Albus now…"

"Caw caw!" The bird squawked in protest, nibbling at Albus' ascending foot.

"S'alright mate," Ron swooped in, the never-ending energy of Lily in his arms, "I have another mini-person for you to coo over."

"Twee?"

The wizard set his niece down. Lily just turned back to Ron, pointing. "No no Lils, over there."

She kept pointing at him. Then at the wall. Then at her mum. Then at her now-napping brother. Then at a small hole in the floor where she proceeded to stick her finger. Ginny lifted her daughter up and twirled her around, moving the tiny finger in the right direction. "There sweetie. Look at the pretty bird. Is that a pretty bird?"

Lily's eyes widened…before she was distracted by the wall again.

"One year olds," Ron explained to the confused phoenix, "you can't take them anywhere. Lily love, do you see him? Okay, you totally see him, but you're back to pointing at the floor. Which is way more interesting, I'm sure."

Ginny bit her lip as Lily tried to put her foot in her mouth. The phoenix looked on, uncertain. "I forgot her toy bunny at home. There's not much else that can grab her atten…oh! Oh, I'm an idiot. Harry?" she spoke to the confused phoenix, pulling Lily's foot away from her mouth. "Lily loves the song 'Twinkle Twinkle Little Star'. Do you know it? Could you sing it for her?"

The phoenix looked pretty hesitant, glancing nervously between all three humans (and continued sneaking glances at the napping Albus). But then he opened his beak to a familiar melody: "Twee twee, twee twee, twee twee twwweeeet. Twee twee, twee twee, twee twee twee twee twweeeeee."

Lily looked up nearly at once and in the right direction. A grin blossomed around her few teeth. Forgetting about trying to eat her foot, she got to her feet and rambled forward, her fingers now pointing at the singing bird.

"Twee twee twee, twee twee twee, twee twee twee twee…tweet?" The song broke off as the phoenix properly watched the little girl now making a shaky beeline to him. "Caw?"

"Baalluuma kaa!" Lily burbled, hands waving.

"That's right," Ginny kept closely behind her daughter, "it's a pretty bird! Do you want to pet the pretty bird?"

Lily utterly didn't understand, as she plomped to the ground and waved her hands everywhere but on the phoenix.

The bird, in turn, tilted his head in confusion. Raising a talon he hesitantly waved it back, which made the little girl fall into giggles. The phoenix seemed happier in turn. "Chirp chirp!"

Ron watched the scene, reminded once again of the blind leading the blind. "So," he whispered to his sister, "Harry remembers Albus but has no idea who she is? While Lily barely understands the concept of a bird?"

"I think he knows she's family," she whispered back, watching the two cautiously, "he just doesn't know it's his daughter. And yes, of course Lily's clueless. She's a baby."

"Fair enough," Ron said back in his normal voice. He decided to cut to the chase. "Harry?" He leaned forward as the confused phoenix looked at him. "The little girl smells like family, right?"

"Tweet."

"Do you remember that, uh," he trampled awkwardly on a subject they didn't discuss, "when you were taken, your 'mate' was pregnant?"

"Tweet."

Ron gestured at Lily. "Ta da!"

The phoenix blinked at him. Then at the gurgling Lily. Then at Ginny, where he finally took notice of her stomach. Ron had never seen the bird do such a big double-take. "Twee—TWEET TWEE TWEEEEEE!"

The phoenix bobbed forward, immediately cooing over Lily. But she was startled and bounded back a few awkward steps before plomping to the ground. She instantly began to wail at the abrupt drop.

"Oh god," Ron groaned.

"GAH WAAAAH!" Lily tilted back her head and started a full-blown tantrum, tears running down her cheeks.

"Shhh, shhh," Ginny scrambled to her daughter, "it's okay. Look over there, is your Uncle making a funny face? It's a funny face!"

"A very funny face," Ron waggled his eyebrows some more as his niece's hiccups turned to a drooling giggle. "Can birds make funny faces? I think they can. Look at the nice bird!"

Something might've clicked, because the girl at last looked carefully at the now-hesitant phoenix with a smile. She pulled herself to her feet, getting a bit of help from her mum. Her tears from a moment before were totally forgotten.

Lily drooled some more. Waggled her hands, then: "Ababa baba!" With a delighted squeal she wobbled forward as fast as her legs could take her. Ron was heartened and the phoenix perked up, clearly expecting a hug. Or a drool-and-snot-coated kiss.

"Babababana!" Lily globbed, red hair flinging around as she skittered to a shaky halt, clinging onto the animal to catch her balance. Then she looked directly at the phoenix—the bird looked back—and—

"BANANANANA!"

"NO!" Ron and Ginny lurched forward at the warning sign, but it was too late.

"SQUAWK!" The phoenix gave a startled cry as the almost one year old happily bit him. Ron grabbed hold of the bird and Ginny of the baby, both pulling apart.

"No biting the birdy!" Ginny admonished her squiggling daughter, who was now trying to get back to her snack. "He's a pretty birdy, not a banana! No bitey the birdy!"

"Banabababa." Lily sucked on her fingers, still eyeing the bird hungrily. Her mum kept a tight hold of her. Ron was faintly amazed they hadn't woken Albus up from where he was sleeping on the bed.

The phoenix was more shocked than hurt, staring at the little human in open-mouthed betrayal. After a minute he scrubbed his beak on his 'wounded' wing, looking feebly up at Ron.

"Cut the puppy eyes." Ron managed to say as Lily laughed. Jesus, Ginny's kids were insane. "She has four teeth, so it was hardly a bite. More like a suck."

"Squawk!"

"Good morning." Hermione gave a forced smile, setting her papers neatly on the podium. She wondered if some day she wouldn't hate press conferences. "I have a progress statement, then I'll be taking questions. Please act like civilised adults and don't shout over each other, hmm?"

"Prosecution of Rodolphus Lestrange, Marcus Flint, and the rest of the Sweenies is unfurling. As this is an active and complex case, I can't answer any questions about it. Though I am happy to announce that six of the survivors have returned to their human minds. They are still in their animal forms, but this is progress. This is wonderful news, and myself and the Ministry extend the very best to them and their families on this road to recovery."

The cameras were clicking more frequently, the reporters in the dense crowd restless. The press room was practically crammed beyond capacity, even with magical enhancement.

Hermione was surprised her smile had held this long. She'd never felt more like an imposter. "I'd also like to thank the outpouring of well-wishes the victims have received. St. Mungo's is bursting with all the presents the public has sent! On a personal note," she did give a real smirk at this, "I'd like to request that everyone stop sending Harry Potter chocolates and golden snitches. We're extremely grateful. But we've filled seven storage rooms with gifts, and my husband's gained a stone from eating the sweets." A small wave of laughter. "I also have a small note from Ginny Potter. She wants to give her utmost thanks for the overwhelming support and she requests that any further flowers or presents be sent to St. Mungo's paediatric ward."

At a slight pause the reporters clamoured forward into shouted questions. Hermione had to refrain from making a rude comment. These people had no patience. She pointed at a witch in the front row who was half out of her seat. "It looks like I'll take questions now. Yes?"

"Elaine Hex, 'Daily Prophet'." The dimply brunette stood all the way up, using a sonorus on her throat. The other reporters reluctantly quieted and sat back down. "I'm sure I speak for us all that we're thrilled the victims are doing so well. But you said that only six of them have regained their human minds, not all of them. What happened with the last two?"

Hermione dropped all pretences at a smile. "Complications."

"What complications?"

Hermione glanced away. Her hands shook, hidden behind the podium. "One of them is underage and I can't say much. But their family did give me permission to release the basics. The minor in question was…" she couldn't do this, she didn't want to face this, "transformed into a dementor." Did a chill draft through the audience, or was it just her? "For those lucky enough not to know, a dementor is a creature which brings out one's worst memories and seeks to eat souls. Don't misunderstand me, no one is in danger from this particular creature." She held one hand with her other, trying to stop the shaking. "But imagine having this type of magical creature stuck inside of you. That's what has happened to this minor and is why their situation is critical. The Healers are doing the best they can."

She wasn't making up the chill that went through the room at this. Even the standing reporter seemed shaken, but she did ask a final question: "What of the last survivor?"

Hermione could feel the phoenix in her hands, could see the foggy green eyes who didn't know who she was. "I can say more about him, as I have full permission from his family." She realised what she'd said and couldn't keep back a burst of laughter. The crowd looked at her oddly. "Sorry, I'm sorry. This isn't funny at all, but the ridiculousness caught up with me. 'Permission from his family', hah." She shook her head. "I'm bloody well his sister."

The reporters erupted.

"Oh, shut up." Hermione sighed, thinking her husband was right: being blunt was best with these people. "It's Harry Potter. He's currently a very happy phoenix, who has no idea he's human. The Healers believe this is due to the immense amount of trauma he endured."

"Immense trauma…?" Elaine Hex trailed off, the question clear.

Hermione forced herself not to glare. She didn't have as much luck in calming herself, and found it difficult to figure out what to say and what to keep concealed. "The last of the Death Eaters kidnapped the 'Boy Who Lived'. Yes, there was an extreme amount of trauma." She hesitated. This explanation would be enough, but she hated minimising it like this. After all that Harry had suffered and survived, was she going to gloss over it? He wouldn't want her giving details, but for once—just once—why couldn't the world have proper sympathy for him? Instead of the fear already rising about the survivors, what if she could show how horrific this was?

"Do you know an odd thing about phoenixes?" Hermione said before she could change her mind. Her voice was hard, croaking. "They're worth a fortune to poachers. Their tears can heal the deadliest of wounds, their blood holds some of the most potent magic in the world, and even their feathers are worth far more than their weight in gold. That's not even saying how much their chopped off limbs are!" She couldn't see the reporters, cameramen, or the room: it was a hot and murky red that blurred her vision with hatred. "From the records the Sweenies left, we rescued Harry just as they were switching from cutting out his heart to chopping off his head. They wanted variety, you see!" Her voice had turned high and frantic. But screw the gaping crowd, screw the worried Aurors. Someone had to say this. "That's how we knew a phoenix was being held hostage, we'd seen tonnes of heads on the black market! HIS HEADS! DO YOU KNOW HOW MANY HEARTS WE FOUND IN THE—"

"Silencio."

Hermione turned furiously to Lisa Turpin, who'd gently pulled her aside (pocketing their wands) before grasping the podium. "Sorry everyone," Lisa told the flabbergasted reporters, "we're running on zero sleep here. Director Granger-Weasley will get back to you with more reports later."

Off the stage, out of the room, Ron met them. Lisa left and Hermione angrily opened her mouth ("Don't start! I know what I said, I know!"), but he wrapped his arms around her. He was warm and close. As her tears fell and she heard a horrible squeaking noise coming from her throat, his hug tightened.

"We're through the worst." Ron swayed them back and forth. Neither cared who saw. "No one's gonna hurt him."

"But his mind…"

The embrace squeezed her. "We rescued him from the Death Eaters," he murmured. "We can damn well protect him from himself."

A/N: On a not traumatic note, is anyone else playing the new HP mobile game, 'Wizards Unite'? If you'd like to be friends on it, my code is: 4973 7681 7838 (my username is VertoVera). Feel free to add me!