Ron was spreadeagled on his bed in his room when he heard a knock. He opened his door and upon seeing Hermione, he let her in and settled himself back in his bed.

"When you and Harry came downstairs earlier at lunch, the look you gave me earlier meant that Harry was hiding something, wasn't he?" she asked while sitting on a chair across from him. "

"Yeah... he was lying about his health again," he informed her. "Afterward, I was going to check on him when Ginny told me that Harry was taking a nap. I heard him throwing up again in the bathroom, so I was going to tell mum and get a potion, but he stopped me. He doesn't even want to take the healing potions."

Hermione frowned. "What do you mean 'he doesn't want'? Of course he would."

"I mean, you'd think so, right? Well... Harry said that the potions don't help, but he did promise he'd take some when he gets sick again. I don't know whether to believe him or not."

Hermione lowered her head and didn't say anything.

"Do you know why he's acting this way?" he asked with concern. "It's so weird that he suddenly doesn't want to take them anymore. There must be something else going on, I take it?"

Hermione fidgeted with a stray lock of hair, biting her lip. "... He said he wanted his life to end."

"He what?!" Ron wasn't expecting Hermione's words to be so extreme. "He can't be serious!" He visibly shook his head when he added, "Harry shouldn't dwell on it. We have to think of a solution to get his spirits up."

"I know. I don't think he knows how important his life is." Hermione looked miserable when she said it.

Ron leaned back on his bed, dumbfounded. Both he and Hermione were silent for a minute before Ron piped up, "I think he needs a distraction from all the things that have been happening to him," Ron suggested. "I bloody-well would take one myself if given the chance." His eyes suddenly brightened with an idea.

"What kind of distraction are you suggesting?"

Ron looked unbelievably at her. "Come on now, Hermione. You know what Harry liked to do best. You've been his best friend for how long?"

"How would I know what he liked best?" retorted Hermione. "You're the ones with him all the time!"

"Isn't it obvious?" he asked incredulously. "I am beginning to question your friendship with Harry, Hermione. How can you not know?"

"What is it?" she asked, irritation etched in her creased brow.

"Quidditch!" Ron exclaimed loudly. "That's what he needs."

"Quidditch," Hermione repeated, looking appraisingly at him. "That's your distraction?"

"Yes," he said confidently. "It'll help him, I swear."

Hermione considered this for a moment. "I don't know if that's the right thing to do, Ron. When would you plan on playing?"

"Right now," he said simply.

"Now?" Hermione looked at him, unwilling to believe what Ron had said. "You're kidding, right? Harry threw up in the bathroom before lunch, and you want him to play Quidditch now?"

"Yeah… but he at least looks better than several days ago," Ron reasoned. "I know this is a stupid idea -"

"Very stupid, Ron!" Hermione exclaimed fiercely.

"Trust me, Hermione. Harry will want to play. It would take his mind off things for a bit."

"And how, may I ask, do you propose to play Quidditch with only the two of you, no goal hoops, and Quaffle, and Harry being sick?" asked Hermione sharply, her hand on her waist.

"Did I say we're the only ones playing?" Ron asked, but he quickly continued when Hermione raised her eyebrows. "You're playing with us and Ginny as well... and I can just transform something to look like a Quaffle, no biggie."

Hermione thought fast. "There are so many things that could go wrong with Harry. Besides, I'm not good at Quidditch... and you know I hate flying on a broomstick! I'd like to help Harry, too, but -" She sighed. She wouldn't want to hurt Harry. Looking dubious, she complied. "Fine, I'll play."

"Oh, I can't wait to tell Harry," Ron said excitedly. "This is gonna be fun!"

Hermione cast him a threatening look. "If something happens to Harry, I swear I'll do more than hex you."

"Relax, you lunatic," he said with a smirk that earned him a smack in the head with his pillow. "I'm gonna make sure nothing happens to him, of course. We haven't asked him yet. He might say no, but I doubt that, knowing him."

Ron found Harry sleeping in the living room. Sitting across him was Ginny who was busy reading the Daily Prophet with a frown on her face.

"Any good news?" he asked.

"Not really," she said, not looking up from her reading. "Some people are demanding to see Harry in public and other similar nonsense."

Ron gestured at Harry's sleeping form. "How is he?"

"Doing well I think," said Ginny hopefully.

"Hey, Harry!" Ron nudged Harry suddenly.

Ginny grabbed his arm, looking alarmed. "What are you doing?"

But Harry had already stirred. He opened his eyes, and they focused on Ron and Ginny.

"Are you alright, mate?" Ron asked.

Harry nodded and looked around groggily. "Did something happen?"

"No. You can go back to sleep." Ginny told him. "Ron just happened to be a jerk and woke you up for no reason."

"What are you talking about?" Ron retorted. "I woke Harry so we can play Quidditch." He offered his hand for Harry to grab so he could get up, but Harry merely looked at him with confused eyes.

"I don't think so, Ron," Ginny said sternly, swatting Ron's hand away and giving him a dark look. "Are you insane? Harry's not fit to play right now."

"He just had his rest," he reasoned. "And it's Quidditch. You can't pass up the game when offered. Besides, we'd only be playing with a Quaffle, so it's not gonna be that bad."

Ginny looked at him as though he had gone crazy. "Did you hit your head or something? I said –"

"I can play," muttered Harry. Ron beamed while Ginny did a double take. "I haven't flown for months, anyway. But I don't have a broom, though. I lost my Firebolt when we left Privet Drive."

"We have spare brooms," said Ron eagerly. "You can use one of those."

"Okay," said Harry, straightening up. "Let me get changed. I'll be right back." He stood and went upstairs with a spring in his step that Ron hadn't seen in a while.

Ginny was looking daggers at his brother. "You know Harry's sick, Ron. You are gonna be in so much trouble if –"

"He looked willing to go, so why not?"

"You know what I mean," said Ginny in a deadly whisper.

"He needs it, and besides, when's the last time you've seen him so happy? Especially since he wants his life to end," he blurted without pausing to think.

Ginny blanched. "Harry will never say that!"

Ron's grin slid from his face, realizing what he'd said. "He told Hermione after lunch," he said sadly in a low voice. Ginny gaped at him, but the determination in his eyes returned. "That's why I'm doing this, Ginny. Yes, it might not be the best time, but when's a good time to do it, then? We need to keep his mind off his sickness," He swallowed, remembering what Hermione had said, "or else he'll succumb to depression. You can jinx me all you like after the game, but Harry's gotta do something."

They looked up when Harry and Hermione came downstairs at the same time. Harry was looking excited, but Hermione and Ginny cast Ron a "this-is-still-a-bad-idea-but-since-Harry-looks-happy-we'll-play-even-if-we're-not-in-the-mood" look when they met him at the door that led outside to the backyard.

Harry was beaming by the time he set foot outside. He could see goal posts standing on either end of the made-up Quidditch field on which he hadn't played on for so long, He realized that he had been stuck inside the house for too long.

The hot afternoon sun blazed down on them when they walked across the field. Each of them had their brooms in hand. Ron held a Quaffle that he'd transfigured earlier. He stood firmly on the ground and faced his friends.

He cleared his throat. "Okay, players. There's four of us... and to make this a fair game - I think I'll pick Ginny for my team."

Hermione frowned, seeing a flaw on the plan already. "How is that fair? You both are good at Quidditch."

Ron smirked. "Don't forget you have Harry, Hermione. He's really good. Trust me, we're gonna lose."

Ginny raised her eyebrows at Ron. "Why am I even paired with you?" she asked with disdain. "I am ready for a challenge, and you're already expecting us to lose. What a good way to boost our confidence, Ronald." She tossed her hair. "I'm not gonna let Harry win this game." Harry smiled at her confidence.

"Are you sure about that, Ms. Weasley?" Harry challenged her.

"You better not start with me, Potter!" Ginny replied back with a fierce look. "I may be your girlfriend but you don't know who you're dealing with."

"Is that a threat?" Harry asked with a wild look.

"Why? Are you threatened?"

Ron and Hermione were grinning at both of them, glad to see Harry actually regaining a bit of his old self.

"Okay, players!" Ron's call brought Harry and Ginny's attention to him before they violated the rules. "The first team who shoots twenty Quaffles into the goal hoops wins the game. Now, let's play!"

Hermione looked worried. "Twenty? It'll last us until midnight," she protested. Harry snickered when she looked like she wanted to disappear.

"We won't, Hermione," Harry assured her. "Besides, you're with me."

"I know that, Harry. It's just... Are you sure you can play right now? Because you're looking pale -"

"I'm fine. Don't worry about me," Harry said quickly, suppressing the nagging feeling in his conscience telling him the same. He told himself that Hermione was only making up excuses so she wouldn't have to play.

"I've had my sleep earlier. I'm well-rested." But truthfully, Harry hadn't had a good rest at all. When he'd told Ginny that he would be taking a nap, he'd only slept for a few minutes before he was awoken by a pounding headache. He'd attempted to sleep again multiple times, but a wave of nausea had hit him next, and that was when Ron found him throwing up in the bathroom. Harry had only just managed to sleep again in the living room when Ron woke him up to play Quidditch. Quite stubbornly, he didn't want to pass up this one chance even if he was feeling sick. He'd deal with it later.

Harry took off without waiting for Hermione, but he could see that Hermione still looked unsure even when he flew up in the air and started playing.

As he rose into the air, Harry felt the soothing air brush his face. He could smell the wonderful summer scent. He'd missed flying so much. Harry felt much more alive, happy, and free when he was in a broomstick. It was a medicine that was giving him comfort and strength that no other antidote could provide. He never wanted the moment to end but instead keep flying and not care about anything else.

The game started right after Ron tossed the Quaffle in the air. Despite being sick, Harry was the one keeping an eye out to Hermione. She kept saying that she was bad in Quidditch, but her efforts suggested otherwise. On several occasions, he just managed to grab the Quaffle from Ron even though she did only just fail to shoot it through the goal hoops. Ginny was fast at blocking her, and Harry could hear Hermione cursing for not being quicker than her and that she hoped to Merlin that the game would end soon.

Harry and Ginny zoomed past each other, playing expertly. Ron made an effort as well and dived at once to block Harry's attempt to shoot the Quaffle, but he missed it by inches. Ginny caught it, and Hermione tailed behind her as fast as she could to get the Quaffle away from her hands. Her attempt was feeble, and Ginny swerved, almost making Hermione lose her balance because she halted so quickly.

Harry sped towards Ginny and blocked her direction. She tossed the Quaffle to Ron who caught it. With a force that almost took his breath away, Harry sped and bumped Ron accidentally, making him lose his grip on the Quaffle and it fell right in front of Hermione who grabbed it and shot it in one of the hoops as quickly as she could. That earned her both a score and a clap from Harry.

The game was growing intense as the afternoon turned to dusk. Ginny was spectacular at aiming the Quaffle right through the goal hoops, as well as Harry who had been shooting Quaffles multiple times in the goal posts even without much effort, making Ron miserable at blocking them.

Most of the scores were made by Harry and Ginny. Ron and Hermione even managed to score a few, and it was already down to a tie. One more shot remained to fulfil the goal of twenty, and the increasing exertion took its toll on Harry when he almost lost his balance. To Harry's relief, none of his friends noticed. He wanted to end the game without problems so badly.

Just one more shot, Harry reassured his exhausted mind. He zoomed close toward the goal hoop when Ginny sped up beside him. She managed to grab the Quaffle from his hand, doubling back to shoot it straight toward the opposite post. Hermione squeaked her surprise and dove to block it too late, and it sailed right through the goal hoop.

Ginny and Ron screamed in triumph when they landed on the ground.

"That was a great game!" Ron said to Harry and Hermione when they landed behind him. Notwithstanding his fatigue, Harry found Ron's joy contagious. "I can't believe we won!"

"I told you I won't let Harry win," Ginny reminded his brother, grinning proudly in front of Harry.

"Yeah... you were amazing!" Harry said happily to her despite his look of exhaustion. It still hadn't sunk in to him that he flew on a broomstick and played Quidditch. It would also be a lot more enjoyable if Fred and George were there as well like old times, but he knew he could only bring back those happy and carefree days with them in his memories.

He placed his arm around Ron's shoulder as the two of them trudged back to the Burrow and said in a sincere voice, "Thanks for making me play Quidditch again, Ron."

Ron smiled at him. "Don't mention it."

"Congratulations, too. Good thing you picked Ginny on your side or else you would've really lost." That made Ron elbow Harry on his side as they went inside the house.

Hermione was very relieved that the game had ended. She apologized to Harry for losing the game, but he shrugged it off and gave her a pat on the back instead for playing well and being a good sport.

Harry's good spirits carried all the way to dinner that night, but he also noticed that his energy declined drastically as the time went by. The game took most of his strength, and with the way he felt at that moment, he was surprised that he didn't collapse. Harry did himself a favour and decided to eat as much as he could to gain back at least a bit of his energy.

"That was a wicked turn you did back there, Ginny!" Ron praised, he still couldn't get over their triumph on the game, and he kept talking animatedly to anyone who would listen to the details. Ginny had already found it rather annoying.

Mrs. Weasley was flabbergasted when she found out that Harry agreed to Ron's idea and played Quidditch. She immediately set about lecturing to her son about how much danger he'd put Harry in, knowing that he was ill. "I can't believe how tactless you are, Ronald Weasley! You know he can't just –"

"But he's fine, mum!" Ron tried to explain, his cheerfulness gone. "Nothing happened to him - Harry, please say something to her," he pleaded for Harry to save him, but Harry knew that Mrs. Weasley wouldn't have it.

"Well, you best hope I don't hide those broomsticks, Ronald!" his mother snapped.

"Mrs. Weasley, Ron was only trying to –" Harry tried to reason out but was cut off.

"I will not tolerate it, Harry," Mrs. Weasley said firmly. "And you, of all people, should know better how risky and dangerous it is for your health. I am very disappointed in you. You went ahead and jeopardized everything we've done to keep you safe!" Her face was as red as her hair. "From now on, you are not going to be playing Quidditch until you get your health back to normal."

Ron could see the pained expression on Harry's face when his mother scolded him, and he spoke up quickly in his defence.

"That's not fair! You can't do that to Harry. He didn't do anything wrong. It was my fault!" Ron snapped at her. Harry could only stare at his best friend.

"Then that makes the two of you!" she said furiously at Ron who lowered his head and sulked at his food.

Only the sound of the utensils hitting the plate could be heard as dinner continued. Harry found it hard to concentrate on his food after being scolded by Mrs. Weasley. He tried to take a few bites, but he had already lost his appetite. Silently fuming, Ron resorted to stabbing his baked potato endlessly.

The silence was broken only when Mr. Weasley arrived home.

"I could only manage to send in a special note to Kingsley regarding the stone, Harry," Mr. Weasley informed Harry immediately as he sat down beside him. "He was in and out of the office and always surrounded with people."

"Thank you, Mr. Weasley," Harry muttered solemnly. Still feeling guilty about the Quidditch match, he could only utter his thanks and nothing else. He wouldn't want to disappoint Mr. Weasley either, so he kept his head down and stayed silent.

"I ran into Teddy Lupin at the Ministry!" Mr. Weasley announced cheerfully. "He was with his grandmother."

"That's Remus and Tonks' son, isn't it?" asked Mrs. Weasley, beaming up at him and suddenly forgetting what had happened a few minutes ago.

"That's right. And I believe he's your godson, Harry?"

Harry turned his head up and curtly nodded. Remus Lupin so kindly had asked him a month before the battle at Hogwarts if he wanted to be Teddy's godfather. Teddy should have been a bundle of joy and hope for Remus and Tonks before they were tragically killed at the war, and their passing had brought Harry so much grief. He hadn't had the opportunity to see Teddy yet, and could only guess what the infant would be like for the time being.

"How is he?" Harry asked Mr. Weasley who promptly gave him a wide smile.

"For a month old, the little tyke can already change his appearance at will," he announced happily to everyone at the table.

"He's a Metamorphmagus?" Hermione asked, thrilled by the news.

"Yes, and," said Mr. Weasley. "It's a good thing that he didn't inherit his father's lycanthropy. Andromeda just told me."

"Oh, that's wonderful!" Mrs. Weasley squealed with delight.

Harry couldn't help but smile at the good news. He remembered well how much Remus regretted marrying Tonks and fathering a child he feared would be a werewolf like himself and facing discrimination like he had.

"You should plan a visit, Harry," Mr. Weasley encouraged him. "I'm sure Teddy would want to see his godfather."

"I'd like to, Mr. Weasley," said Harry. "It's just – I can't right now… with me being sick." Harry lowered his head. The guilt and shame had returned to haunt him again. Ginny squeezed his hand from under the table.

Mr. Weasley gently put his hand in his shoulder. "We can work it out," he said comfortingly. "I'm sure Andromeda wouldn't mind coming over here with Teddy so you could meet him."

Harry smiled genuinely. He felt a little better. "That'd be nice. Thank you."

"Who does he look like?" Ron suddenly asked his dad.

"It was hard to tell when I first saw him," he said thoughtfully. "Like I said, he kept changing his appearance. But Andromeda mentioned he'd had black hair the hour he was born."

Since Remus was hazel-haired, Harry imagined an image of Tonks with black hair. It was strange since her hair colour was always strikingly different each time he'd seen her.

"I'm sure he'll do great things just like his parents," said Mr. Weasley before bringing the cup to his lips to drink his remaining water. "He may have lost them at such an early age, but he's got loving families that will help him cope and grow up."

Everyone couldn't agree more, most especially Harry who grew up with the same situation, only he wasn't raised by a loving family who wanted him for who he was. He was determined to show Teddy the love and care like how the Weasley family did to him, as well as his future kids if his fate to live longer would permit it.

Harry could feel his blood draining and face paling when he stood up to put his empty plate to the sink. He gripped the edge of the counter when his vision swam dangerously. He suddenly felt hot and feared that his fever was back again. Since the match, Harry knew his exhaustion had peaked. He tried to take deep breaths, wishing for it to stop so as not to cause panic to the Weasleys who had yet to finish their meals.

Barely seeing where he was going, he turned around and tried to walk steadily from the kitchen and into his room. He managed to reach his bed before his knees gave up and he collapsed.

Harry's sickness persisted over the next few days. As much as he had wanted to keep it hidden from the Weasley family, his attempts were unsuccessful. He managed for a day to act as though everything was normal. No one seemed aware that he fainted right in his bed, it only looked as though he was asleep. He didn't want to blame Ron or the Quidditch game that they had that day for getting him sick again. He'd already blown it off, and Mrs. Weasley had already scolded him for what he'd done. That was enough for him to deal with.

He stayed in his room most of the time so he could get away from all of them and most especially Mrs. Weasley. Harry told everyone that he wanted to rest, asking not to be disturbed. Ron totally understood his need to rest because he'd dragged him along for a game of Quidditch, and he left him alone.

From inside the room, however, Harry could hear Ron trying to get away from Hermione and Ginny, for they were relentlessly complaining loudly every time for not being able to see Harry whenever they come and visit.

"It's only for this day," Ron defended himself. "Leave him alone and let him rest. It's not like he's dying. He only wanted to stay in bed and get his energy back. That's all it is. Isn't that what you guys wanted him to do in the first place?"

But Ron's defence wasn't what Harry had hoped it would be. He began suffering under a high fever. His vision wouldn't cooperate with him as well and he kept getting dizzy whenever he tried to stand. Not wanting his friends to see him in his sickly state again, he locked himself inside his room, and decided to let sleep wash over him. Harry hoped that the next time he woke up, he would be feeling better.

The next day, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny sat uncomfortably in the sofa of the living room discussing Hagrid's whereabouts. They had a faraway look on their faces as they dwelled on Hagrid's attempts to find a wild Thestral. It had been two days since Ron and Hermione's visit to Hagrid, and they received no mail whatsoever from him as of yet. Their growing worry became overwhelming when they thought about how impossible of a task it might be for Hagrid.

"But there's got to be a wild Thestral somewhere," said Hermione, expressing her annoyance. Her hair had gotten bushier than ever in the humid air. "I know they're rare, but they can't just disappear."

"Hagrid will find one," said Ron, comforting her with assurance. "He can see them, unlike most people. We just have to wait a little longer, I guess."

But waiting had become unbearable as well, added to the fact that Harry hadn't come out of his room for a day now, and it was already the next day. After conferring, they resolved to check in on him in his room and see for themselves if Harry truly was resting.

The three of them walked upstairs, determined. Ginny turned the knob of Harry's door only to find it locked.

"Why would he lock his door?" asked Ginny while looking oddly at the other two. "He never does."

"And what's the point of locking it if we could cast a spell to unlock it?" Ron frowned as he said it.

"I'm sure something's wrong and that he's hiding it again," Hermione concluded. She grabbed her wand in her pocket, pointed it in the doorknob and said, "Alohomora." The knob made a soft click, and Hermione made a grab for it and opened the door.

Harry's room looked orderly, as though he hadn't moved any of his things around. The smell of summer flowed through his opened window, masking the scent of a faint metallic smell that wafted in their direction as they got closer.

Ginny gasped when she finally laid her eyes on Harry. His pillow was drenched with his blood. His eyes were tightly shut as though he were in pain, but he made no move to open them when Ginny touched his face.

She looked at Ron and Hermione. "He's burning up. Ron, please run downstairs and get me a Fever-Reducing potion, tell mum as well. He's very sick again."

Ron nodded and dashed out of the room.

Hermione muttered a cleaning spell to get rid of the blood in Harry's pillow.

"Harry?" Ginny tried calling his name, but he didn't seem to want to respond and only kept his eyes shut as he moaned.

"I knew something's wrong with Harry," Hermione suddenly said to Ginny. "I mean, why else would he want to be left alone for a whole day?" she looked at him and said in an exasperated tone. "Oh, Harry… why do you keep hiding things from us?"

At that moment, Ron came back with potions in hand; Mrs. Weasley was right behind him.

"Oh, Merlin!" Mrs. Weasley exclaimed in fright when he saw Harry's sick state, blood still trickling down his nose. Ginny scooted over a little bit when her mother sat in front of Harry. Mrs. Weasley cast a disapproving look at Ron and said, "I told you this was going to happen, didn't I?"

Ron could only look at her apologetically before lowering his head. She grabbed the vial from him and turned her attention to Harry.

"Harry?" she said softly. When Harry made no move that he had heard her, she called again but this time, more firmly. "Harry! Open your eyes."

A moan escaped his lips, and he slowly opened his eyes to see the blurry figure of Mrs. Weasley. He winced at the sudden light and at the pain from his pounding headache.

"Mrs. Wea –"

"Shhh… it's okay," she cut him off. "Don't talk, dear." She presented the fever potion in front of him. Harry frowned at it at first before taking it. His hands shook so badly that Ron volunteered to hold the vial for him. Harry looked embarrassed when he drank the potion. He slid back in his pillow and closed his eyes again, wincing.

"Harry, what else hurts?" Molly asked worriedly.

He gestured at his forehead. Molly understood the gesture, but before she could hand him the Healing potion that she brought with her, Harry's eyes watered, and he said in a whisper while pointing at his skin, "... hurts… burn…"

The teens looked at each other. The burn wasn't as intense as the last time, but they could see his tears coming out.

"I can only give you a healing potion, dear," Mrs. Weasley said sadly. "It'll help with your headache, but the burn… I can only hope will cease even if it's just a bit. Here –"

Ron held it up to his lips when Harry opened his eyes again. When he was done, Harry turned on his other side, his back facing them, still moaning in pain.

To be continued...

Beta-read by KVeronicaP