sometimes. When people are rude to Hermione or my kids, I see red...it's really frightening, actually...but Harry, there's a reason she's doing things the way she is. You didn't even try to see things from her point of view."

It briefly occurred to Harry how emotionally mature Ron had become in the decades of being Hermione's husband.

"How could I? With Rita saying the things that she is." A pause. "She was about to storm into the room with Albus and Ginny, Ron."

"I know. I know—and I would've killed her if I were in your shoes. But Hermione knows what she's doing. Blimey, she's the only sodding person who knows what they're doing anymore. She had a plan and it made sense if you'd only asked her. She couldn't just arrest Rita out of the blue. Rita would've warped it into a freedom of speech issue. She would've said Hermione knew about the animagus thing all along and blackmailed her with it to keep her from saying anything negative about her family members—"

"So?" Harry demanded. "Would anybody blame her?"

"Yeah! They would, Harry! It'd look horrible—like she was misusing her power! Like she'd twisted the laws, sat on valuable information, and only chose to arrest Rita when it was beneficial for her and her family. Hermione said it was better for all of us to keep Rita as subdued as possible while the laws were changed because then we've got a solid fix. But now, arresting her and getting her going on 'free speech' before the laws have been put into effect...she's got the power to start an entire riot over them. She's going to turn this into something extremely nasty that could really hurt our society forever. You've been looking at the short-term. You haven't been considering the long-term."

Harry felt worse and worse with every word Ron said. He hadn't considered the long-term outside of his family. All he'd thought about was them, and at the time, he thought that made everything justified. But perhaps that was the problem with his actions.

"I didn't want to hurt Hermione, Ron. I just wanted to keep Rita from hurting Albus, and Ginny, and James, and Lily, and—everybody, basically."

"I know. But you've just made things horrible for Hermione. Do you understand what you've done? Now she's going to be forced to arrest Rita. She's going to have to address what you said publically, and she'll either have to lie and say she never knew Rita was an animagus, or she'll have to admit that she did and admit that she's been blackmailing and withholding justice. People are going to trust her less. And Rita's going to worm her way out of this one for good this time. And she might get the privacy laws lessened, instead of amended like we'd hoped."

Harry backed up until his legs hit the edge of a seat. He lowered down, his face falling into his hands.

"I just wanted it to stop."

Ron sat in the seat beside Harry's. He gave his shoulder a gruff pat.

"I know, mate. But you've got to stop doing that—that...Harry Potter thing, y'know? Where you let things bottle up until you feel the need to storm in alone, thoughtlessly, to do things all by yourself. That ferrety little bastard was actually making progress with the law drafts. Even Hermione was impressed. And my sister, of course, is stubborn to an absolute fault, so you know they were bound to succeed."

"I just—"

"—wanted your family to be safe. I really do understand that. And I'm sure what Malfoy said earlier didn't help."

Harry made a noncommittal grunt.

"You do take care of your family," Ron told him, and Harry felt his heart swell. He hadn't realized he needed to hear that until he heard it. It felt like a weight had been lifted from his aching shoulders.

"It doesn't feel like it," Harry muttered, face still buried in his hands. "My son nearly died. My fame brought unfair judgement onto my wife and my kids. Lily hates me—she won't even look at me—and James hates me for hurting Lily."

"Yeah, well, Rose looked like she wanted to slap me when I told her she couldn't come to the hospital yet. Hugo cried. We've all got to do things sometimes that make our kids hate us. We've just got to hope that they love us more at any given time than they hate us."

Harry looked up miserably. "If Ginny had married somebody normal—if she'd had kids with somebody normal—"

"James, Albus, and Lily wouldn't exist, she'd be miserable, you'd be miserable, and everybody in our family would be miserable because you two would spend every holiday making eyes at each other and moping."

Harry didn't exactly have anything to say to refute those things.

"I mean, she may be 'your wife', but I think I can say with reasonable certainty that my sister would much rather deal with Rita's lies than, you know, not have her children."

And he couldn't exactly argue with that, either. Ron slapped his back.

"Cheer up. Albus is going to live. Hermione might kill you, but perhaps you'll get to see Rita behind bars before you die. And Scorpius and Albus are exceptionally cozy, aren't they?" Ron grinned. Harry gave a reluctant smile back.

"They're good for each other."

"Let's hope they're being good with each other...did you...you know. Give Albus 'the talk'?"

Harry immediately grimaced. All other negative thoughts were pushed away as his embarrassment overtook him again.

"Oh, I tried. I certainly gave it my best effort. It was horrible."

"The talk you gave or just the act of giving the talk?"

"Both. Mainly the talk itself. With James, it was so easy...he laughed hysterically through most of it...he was cracking sex jokes by the time it ended...but oh, Merlin. It was awful trying to talk to Albus about it. I was flying blind. Hermione gave me a book, you know, about how to address..."

Ron nodded. "Boys who prefer the flavor of other boys."

"...Not the way I was going to word it, but yeah. Right. He looked like he was going to jump out of the window at any moment. He just kept repeating 'okay', 'okay', 'okay', after everything I said, clearly trying to get it over with as quickly as possible. I'm not sure he comprehended a word I said." Harry hesitated. He leaned in. "And then, Draco asked me about it yesterday."

Ron burst into laughter. "What?! Draco asked you about gay sex? He really is an unimaginative little—"

"No, he asked me about how my talk with Albus went. I think he wanted to compare notes. Said he sort of gave Scorpius a talk but realized he needed to redo it. Turns out he just handed him a few books and patted his hair."

"Actually, that seems like a pretty effective talk for somebody like Scorpius..." Ron mulled.

"I told him our only hope is that Scorpius decides to share those books with Albus, because I really mucked that fatherly job up as well."

"It's okay. Hermione made me give Rose the talk with her, something about...co-parenting something-something, I dunno, some rubbish she reads in Muggle parenting books...anyway, I literally stared at the wall for the entire speech. Hermione kept stamping on my foot to get me to say my rehearsed parts. Nope. I think she broke my big toe. Worth it."

"Well, I guess not everybody can find out the way that we did."

"I suggested that method to Hermione. I said 'let's just drop her off at her elder cousins' house for a weekend or so and she can figure out like Harry and I did, from piecing together crude joke after crude joke'. She didn't go for it. And she also said that my elder brothers should've watched their tongues when we were in earshot."

Harry snorted. He was feeling better enough to summon a package of biscuits. Ron cocked an eyebrow.

"The Potters are back on sugar?"

"The Potters are falling apart. I've been stress-eating sherbet lemons. Ginny's been going through sugar quills quicker than the real things—which is saying something. I've been using sweets to buy my children's affection. Oddly enough, James is the only one who hasn't succumbed. He's still eating the sugar-free options the house elves make for him."

"Oddly sensible. Good for him," Ron praised. He pulled five biscuits from the package the moment that Harry passed it to him. He crammed three into his mouth and spoke around it, crumbs raining from his mouth as he chewed. "Hermione and I gave up on that a long time ago. I told Ginny your family won."

"The only victory that matters," Harry teased. Ron grinned.

"So are you going to apologize to Hermione for being a prat?"

"I'll apologize to Hermione for making her life difficult. But I won't apologize for doing something about Rita Skeeter."

"...Sometimes I get this urge to call you Mr. Weasley, and it's not because I secretly fancy us married."

"Har, har—look who's talking. I've noticed you're exceptionally in touch with your emotions, Mr. Granger."

Ron smiled. "Yeah? Really? You think so?" A pause. "So, if you could just...mention that to Hermione. You know, just tell her I was really emotionally sensitive and compassionate, I'd really appreciate it."

Harry snorted. "What'd you say to Hermione this time?"

"Nothing! Nothing. Just...it'd be great if you could tell her that."

"Sure, Ron. I'll help you get out of trouble."

Ron sighed, relieved. "Thanks. I hate it when she's cross with me."

Harry glanced at his beat-up wristwatch.

"We should head back. The last of the kids should be arriving from school soon. I want to actually talk to Albus before they monopolize him."

"Okay, but we'd better be careful...I heard Lockhart asking to go visit other wards to give autographs as we were passing by..."

They shared a horrified look.

Albus was still weak and pained, but he was all smiles that afternoon. Harry and Ginny remained constants at his bedside and Scorpius remained a constant in his bed. Draco hovered between the tea room and the corner of the ward, visibly uncomfortable but unwilling to make Scorpius leave. All of Albus's cousins were crowded around the bed, listening with rapt attention as Lily and James told everybody the story of Albus's 'duel'. Albus was far too busy playing with the Pygmy Puffs resting on his chest (Scorpius had gone to Hogwarts to retrieve them, fearing they'd get lost or accidentally stepped on) to notice that his siblings were grossly inflating the story.

"And then Albus and James punched Halloran so hard in the face that he shit his—"

"Lily," Harry sighed.

"He could've, Dad. You don't know. They didn't check his trousers before they shipped him to Azkaban."

"Temporary hold," Harry quickly said, as excited whispers broke out.

"That's shit," Fred scoffed. "He should stay there."

"Everybody gets a trial, Fred," Dominique said sharply.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. My opinion? He never should've been allowed out in society in the first place."

This started a spirited debate amongst the Weasley children. Ginny pointed sternly at her children.

"Listen here, you three," she began firmly. James smiled sweetly (his knee-jerk reaction to Ginny's sternness, having learned as a toddler that his mum could be slightly weakened by his cuteness), Albus frowned, and Lily crossed her arms. "I don't ever want to hear about you putting yourselves at risk because somebody's called somebody else a slag again. That's idiotic. Do you really think my pride is worth your injury?"

"Yes," James, Lily, and Albus said in unison. Harry, torn between pride and amusement, chose to look at his lap and snort. Ginny shot him a vexed look.

"And do you think that I think it was worth it? Considering everything that's happened?" she pressed.

James frowned. Albus looked back down at the Pygmy Puffs (the yellow one was rolling up and down Albus's chest so quickly that it almost fell onto the mattress a couple of times; the blue one was curled up right at the end of the yellow's path to keep his little friend from falling). Lily bit her lip.

"Exactly," Ginny said. She leaned back in the chair and let her head fall back against Harry's arm. She stifled a yawn. "Let them call me names. As long as you lot are okay, I'm happy."

Their children nodded, but James had clearly not learned his lesson. He'd do it again. Albus and Lily, too. But Harry couldn't blame them; he'd done the same when Malfoy had insulted his mother in his fifth year, and if he went back in time tomorrow, he'd do it again. There were some things worth risking everything for, and mothers were certainly one of them.

"Uncle Harry?" Louis asked. Harry turned and looked up at the seventh-year Ravenclaw. He looked hesitant.

"Yes?" Harry asked.

Louis came to stand beside Harry's chair.

"We should talk about some things that have happened. At Hogwarts. While you've been gone."

Roxanne, Rose, and Hugo fell silent, telling Harry they knew exactly what Louis was talking about. Harry shifted to face Louis.

"What do you mean?"

Louis exchanged a quick look with Roxanne. James and Lily were leaning further in, to make sure they didn't miss anything.

"Well...Roxanne...sort of...confronted Halloran's friends."

"Yeah I did. I had to check them out, didn't I? To make sure they weren't going to mess with my family ever again."

"Yes...right...but, Rox...you brought all your Gryffindor friends and snuck into the Slytherin dungeon..."

Oh, great. Harry lowered his glasses and rubbed over his eyes. He sighed.

"Tell me you didn't start a House war."

"...If only I could, Uncle Harry," Roxanne said. "In my defense...it was never supposed to be that. But Halloran's friends stuck up for his actions. Then all the kids of ex-Death Eaters got involved. They started ranting about how it was cruel and insensitive for McGonagall to hire a 'killer' to teach them when, in their eyes, you're apparently somehow responsible for the death of every Death Eater related to them, even if you weren't the one who killed them in the first place. And there's the fact that you locked up a good portion of their family members..."

"That's rubbish," Scorpius said. He sat up. Albus watched him intently, hanging on every word. "Their parents were wrong. They made a mistake. They've got to make peace with that."

"Well, not all of them agree. Iset Goyle tried to talk sense into them and that went about as well as you can imagine. She's in the Hospital Wing."

Harry winced. "What was she thinking?"

"Probably that she didn't want to be associated with idiocy like that. But anyway. This turned into...well, like you said, a House war. When we left, people were choosing sides, hexing each other in the corridors, sneaking into each other's common rooms, using Weasley Wizard Wheezes products in ways they were certainly not manufactured for..." Roxanne trailed off, her lip curling up in disgust. Harry had no interest in probing further on that matter.

"It's a good thing Albus has to stay here for a while. It'll give things time to calm down," Roxanne summarized. "But you, Uncle Harry...be prepared."

"Thanks for the warning, Roxanne," Harry told her.

"Unless you want to get a substitute, Dad," Lily suggested.

"No. And you still have to do your essay. Matter of fact—start working on it now! You've got plenty of time."

"No, Dad! My brother is critically ill!" Lily exclaimed. She fell down onto Albus's bed and dramatically lay across his stomach without thinking. He cried out in pain. Ginny jumped to her feet and Scorpius flinched.

"Lily! Get up!" Ginny snapped.

"You can't lay on him like that," Scorpius told Lily gently. He grasped her arms and eased her up. "His insides are still mending. They look like a cheese grater was used on them."

Harry's stomach turned at the mental image. Scorpius had been one of the few who'd expressed interest in looking at some type of magical scan the Healers had done of Albus's internal organs; he'd been extremely interested and asked question after question, remaining remarkably composed, even holding a conversation with Victoire about the state of Albus's liver. Ginny, who was certainly no stranger to blood and gore, and had, in fact, once pushed her own bone back through her skin after a particularly nasty open fracture, had looked nauseated after viewing it, which was all Harry needed to see to decide that he didn't need to view the images.

At the mention of their son's damaged state, Ginny took Albus's hand again, probably without even realizing it. Albus had gone from challenging James's title as the Potter household 'Mummy's boy' to merely tolerating his mum's doting affection; it'd become a reliable way to tell how he was feeling. If he was clingy and anxious any time she left the room, he was in extreme pain. If he was scoffing every time she kissed his hair, he was feeling much better. Harry took advantage of it and used it to know when to ask Victoire to bring more pain potion, because Albus seemed determined to be 'tough' and never wanted to ask for it himself.

"That's disgusting," Lily grimaced.

"Mum said she's getting that curse put on the list of Unforgivables," Rose informed them all.

"It should be. He would've died if Aunt Hermione hadn't thought up that method," Lucy spoke up. "So it's basically a killing curse."

Harry glanced quickly at Albus. He didn't look particularly upset by that news, but according to Ginny, he'd been hysterical when he first came to (during Harry's screaming fit in the corridor). He'd gripped onto her in a fright, sobbing, and he kept mumbling something about the Great Lake, Harry's parents and Sirius Black, and the uncle he never met. It'd shaken Ginny. She was one of the only people Harry had ever told about his King's Cross experience, and because of that, she was certain that their son had died at some point, briefly, perhaps, but at some point, and that distinction was sure to haunt them both for months.

"What was it like?" Rose wondered, somehow thinking right along the same lines that Harry was. "Did you know you were going to die?"

Albus hesitated. He glanced at his mum. Then he glanced at Scorpius, which told Harry that Scorpius probably knew, too.

"No, how could I?" he lied. "I was unconscious."

"Oh," Rose said, disappointed. "Yeah, I suppose you're right."

Albus glanced to the side and met Harry's eyes. Harry nodded once, hoping to somehow communicate: I know. I experienced it. It's okay. You can come back all the way—I did.

Albus smiled briefly. Harry grinned back, his heart lightening. I love you, he wanted to say suddenly. I love you more than my own life. But he didn't want to embarrass Albus. There would be time to talk to him. Time to let him know just how much he was loved. Harry doubted he'd ever be able to doubt that again, though, with how many kisses he'd received upon waking, how many tearful cries of thank Merlin!, how many hugs that went on long enough to communicate words.

And then there was his son's boyfriend. Who'd climbed onto Albus's bed first thing and full-on snogged Albus in front of five healers, the entire Weasley clan, his own dad, Albus's parents, and a few onlooking strangers, clearly so overemotional in his relief that he wasn't thinking clearly. Everybody had found it varying degrees of sweet and amusing and they'd all slowly trickled out of the hospital room to 'let