The first thing Albus thinks when he wakes up, before he opens his eyes, is I fucking hope that I am not where I was the last time I opened my eyes.

The second thing he thinks is ow, ow, fuck, ow, ow, that fucking hurts.

The third thing he thinks is Scorpius.

This, this last thought, gets him to open his eyes. They feel scratchy, and his throat is dry, but that's the last thing on his mind as he looks up. He's in the familiar Hospital Wing, he deduces.

"Al," his mum says, and he feels a warm hand squeeze his. He turns to the side, and sees his mum holding his hand. She looks worried, and paler than usual, but as his eyes meet hers, she smiles at him and he instantly feels a tiny bit better.

"Mum," he says – croaks out, really.

"You were so brave, Al," she says, and leans in and kisses his forehead. The feeling of it is soft and reassuring, and Albus relaxes into the bed.

"Is – is that over?"

"It's over," she says. Quiet, but determined.

"And— the others? Dad? Jamie? Lily?" Albus asks. He hesitates for a fraction of a second and says, "Scorpius?"

"Madam Pomfrey would only let one of us stay here with you," Mum says. "Dad's outside. Jamie, Lily, and Freddie – well, you can have a look," she says. She does something with her wand that gets rid of the curtains around his bed, and gestures to the other end of the wing. Albus cranes his neck as best as he can, and sees Lily, Freddie, and Jamie, all fast asleep. "McGonagall thought it'd be best if they stayed the night here, just in case," Mum continues, waving her wand and causing the curtains to reappear. "They'll be fine, though. Now that you're awake, maybe Madam Pomfrey will let Harry come in. I should go find her, but you'll probably want some water first—"

"Mum," Albus says. "Scorpius?" He hasn't missed the way his mum hasn't answered that.

"He's in St. Mungo's," Mum finally says. "It's nothing serious, I promise. But because of his earlier attack, Madam Pomfrey and Scorpius's mum thought it'd be best if he got checked out by a Healer."

"But he's… he's okay?" Albus asks. He thinks about how he closed his eyes when the Cruciatus first hit Scorpius, how Scorpius's screams sounded, how he had been so pale.

He thinks about the way he felt when the curse first hit him. How he had been so busy worrying about Scorpius that he hadn't known to watch out for Avery pointing his wand at him.

He thinks of Scorpius, pale and alone, in a bed at Mungo's, seriously hurt for the second time in two months, and his heart sinks in his chest.

"He's okay, Al," Mum says. "Or… he's going to be okay, anyway. He'll be back by tomorrow, most likely. How are you feeling?"

Albus doesn't know how to say like I was tortured and saw everyone I love tied up and helpless so instead he says, "Fine."

Mum smooths her hand over his forehead. "Really?"

"No. Not really," Albus says in a small voice. He closes his eyes against the pricks of tears he feels, but once he's closed them, he discovers that his head hurts less that way, so he keeps them closed.

"Get some sleep," Mum says, softly, so gently that it only makes him want to cry even more. "We'll all be right here when you wake up. I promise."

Albus doesn't know how to articulate how he feels. He has no words for the anxiety that overwhelms his body and makes his heart race, the worry that when he wakes up, he'll be back in the Room, back with Avery, back there, about to be tortured…

"Hey," Mum says, and she sounds fiercer this time. "It's going to be okay. Trust me, Al." She holds a cup to his mouth, props him up with a hand behind his head so he can drink it. "Dreamless Sleep Potion. It'll help. Go on, drink."

Albus can feel his heart thud about five times faster than normal. He can feel the pinpricks of tears in the corners of his eyes. He can feel the bed, soft beneath his tired body. He doesn't know what he's feeling, not really: there's too much to feel, all at once. What he does know, though, is what he always knows: that he can trust his mum. So he drinks the potion, all of it, closes his eyes again, and gives in – yet again – to the overwhelming urge to not be conscious.

"We've got them," Ron tells Harry.

"All of them?" Harry asks. The anger's still thrumming in his veins, but he's using every last bit of his effort to push it down and focus on the task at hand.

"All of them," Hermione confirms. "They're all in Auror custody, and they will be until their trials."

Harry pushes a hand through his hair. "Okay," he says.

He'd wanted to stay with Al in the hospital wing. All of them did, but Madame Pomfrey had been very clear that only one of them was allowed in, and Ginny had been adamant that it had been her.

"You have to go make sure those dickheads are behind bars, Potter, or you'll never forgive yourself. I've got it handled here, now go," she told him, and then kissed him to cushion the blow.

He thinks about Al now, and about Jamie, and Lily. Madam Pomfrey's promised him they'll all make a full recovery – none of them, except Al, even need to stay in the Hospital Wing longer than a night – but he can't help but worry.

When he first held Jamie in his arms, and Al, and Lily, he'd made all of them the same promise in his mind: that he would protect them, no matter what. It's why he agreed to come to Hogwarts, even going so far as to quit his job at the Auror Department for it. And look at where it led: his children, his nephew, and his wife, tied up at the mercy of Avery and the teenagers he'd recruited to their cause.

When he was twelve years old, he'd seen Ginny in the chamber, and thought, for an awful second, that she was dead. The feeling had felt like lead in his chest; the thought that he had failed her. It's the only way he has of describing how he feels now: like he failed his family, like he failed at the most important job he has.

"Harry?"

Harry looks up at Hermione. "Yeah, sorry. What were you saying?"

"I was saying that Padma Patil's on her way now. She'll interrogate them and put them in holding," Hermione says. She's looking tentative, which leads Harry to believe that his thoughts were very much on his face.

Harry nods automatically, but then pauses. "No," Harry says.

"What?" Ron says.

"No. I want to interrogate Avery myself," Harry says.

"Are you sure that's a good idea, mate?" Ron says. "It's been a bit of a long day…"

"I'm sure," Harry says. Now that he's said it out loud, he knows that that is, in fact, what he wants to do. He's got too much anger and worry swirling around in his brain to settle down now, and interrogating Avery will, at the very least, ensure that he feels useful.

"Well… if you're sure," Hermione says.

Five minutes later, as walks into to the room where Avery's being held, closely guarded by Aurors, Harry's never felt surer in his life.

"Hello," he greets Avery, and closes the door firmly behind him. The last thing he wants is for the Aurors at the doorway to hear him and get scared off the force forever.

"Potter," Avery says.

He looks far less smug than he looked earlier, which makes Harry pleased – or as pleased as he can feel right now, anyway. Harry doesn't think he's ever going to forget the sight that beheld him when he opened the door to the Room of Requirement: Avery, looking delighted, pointing his wand at Albus. He's going to be seeing that sight whenever he closes his eyes, for a long time. A very long time.

"I think I'll do the talking first, if it's all the same," Harry says. It takes every modicum of self-control he has to keep his tone light; he compromises with himself by keeping his hand firmly around his wand in the pocket of his robes, ready to go if Avery so much as moves the wrong muscle. "As far as I know, you got out of Azkaban on good behaviour. What made you decide to fuck it all up, unleash some Dementors, torture and nearly kill some children, and convince your daughter and her friends that you somehow had a point with all of that?"

Avery shakes his head. "It's all your fault, Potter."

"How do you work that one out?" Harry asks, leaning against a desk.

There's silence for a moment. Another moment. And then Avery starts talking.

"I was away from my family for years, you know. I came back and my daughter – my own daughter – didn't recognise me. Mulciber still hasn't seen his family. You think you're so much better than us, but I know the truth, and Mulciber does, too. You're the real problem. People like you, locking us up and— and people like Malfoy and his bitch wife and son, thinking they're so much better than us because they know how to get away from trouble—or because Scorpius knows your son a bit too well—"

Harry holds a hand up. Miraculously, Avery falls silent, which is good, because Harry is about two seconds away from abandoning his wand and punching him in the face.

Harry thinks about the past few months. The Dementors. Nigel Goyle and his cronies attacking Scorpius, Albus, and Rose. Avery, using the Cruciatus Curse on Albus and Scorpius. Ginny, tied up in a chair, her face blazing with the same fury that Harry feels coursing through him now.

"You're not going to be able to hurt anyone again for a long, long time," he finally says. The words come out in a stony and quiet tone that he doesn't recognise. "You know, if you hadn't done any of this, you might had a chance to live with your family, to have a normal life. But now… Now, you'll be lucky if you ever see the light of day ever again."

"It's not just me, you know," Avery says. "There are more of us than you think, more of us who agree with me about who to blame for all of this. More of us who are going to take down the Potters or die trying."

Harry smiles. "Good," he says. "Then I'm going to enjoy taking every single one of you down."

Madam Pomfrey lets him into the Hospital Wing the next day, after breakfast. "But don't tire any of them out," she warns him. "I don't care if you're the Chosen One and the Defence Professor, I can still kick you out of my Hospital Wing if you don't listen to me!"

Albus gives him a tired smile when he comes in. Jamie and Lily are sitting on the edge of Albus's bed, and Scorpius is lying down on the bed next to Al's, fast asleep. Freddie and Ginny are sitting in armchairs that Ginny seems to have Conjured up for them, since they look far more comfortable than the usual seating in the Hospital Wing.

"How did it go?" Jamie asks Harry eagerly.

Albus and Lily look up at that, Albus looking worried and Lily's eyes bright with curiosity. They've been through so much. Harry knows what it's like to have adults keep things from you after you've been involved in them, so he doesn't lie, and he doesn't dismiss the topic. If they're old enough to go through it, then they're old enough to discuss it afterwards.

"They're all in holding. They'll be in custody until their trials," Harry tells them.

"When are the trials?" Freddie asks.

"Next year. February, maybe, or March. Hermione fixed it up," Harry says.

"And we'll all have to testify, I suppose?" Ginny asks from her seat in an armchair she seems to have Conjured for herself. Harry perches on the arm of the chair, wraps his arms around her. He feels her lean against his shoulder: the only sign that she needs comfort at all.

"Yes. I suppose so," he agrees.

Jamie looks delighted. "Does that mean we'll get to see the fuckers get sentenced to Azkaban?"

"Language," Harry says half-heartedly. "And… probably, yes."

"Do you think Aunt Hermione will let me punch Rita Avery during her trial?" Lily asks.

"Probably not," Harry says.

"Never hurts to ask, though," Freddie puts in.

"I'm gonna ask," Lily decides.

"That's my girl," Ginny says. Harry detects a faint note of pride in her voice.

Only Albus is quiet, Harry notices, but he doesn't want to draw too much attention to it, so he lets it go.

"Well," says Jamie after a moment. "Looks like we're going to have to go back to having a normal school year now, aren't we?"

"No more Cruciatuses," Freddie says.

"No more rogue Death Eaters at school," Jamie says.

"No more Dementors."

"No more of Anna Selwyn's gang."

"Yes," says Freddie, and then, "I still think Anna's not too bad."

"Just because you think she's fit."

"I don't!"

"Oh, really? Then why did you—"

"Freddie, I can't believe you'd like her, of all people," Lily says indignantly.

As Freddie, Jamie, and Lily continue bickering, Harry turns and looks at Ginny.

"We're going to be okay," he says.

Ginny shakes her head. "Not right away, I don't think. But… yes. Everything will be fine. And if it isn't, we'll make it be fine."

Harry looks at her, at her bright eyes and determined, blazing look, and nods at her. He can't say he disagrees.