V
It sometimes annoys him that his animagus form is a magical bird. Yeah, they can fly, have an amazing sight, able to pinpoint with great accuracy things that are several hundred feet away, their hearing is nothing to scoff at, either. And that's without counting their amazing magical senses.
That's a problem, now, though. As it makes it hard to ignore things.
Case in point, he's high up in the sky and still can hear people talking down on the ground, which is too close for his comfort as he hasn't had any contact with humans since he decided to live as a phoenix. Some kind of kneejerk reaction makes him take the convenient warm updraft that will take him higher and away.
However, before he's gained enough distance he hears they're in trouble.
Obviously he can't really understand the language even if he gets it's Chinese. He gets what's happening and that's the crucial thing. He hovers on top of the wonderful thermal for a moment, thinking about how much he hates his hero-complex. Then with a mental sigh, he flies towards the ground, briefly enjoying the wind across his face until he's a nice distance away to not be seen but still close enough to get a better understanding of what's going on.
He sees first a woman with Asian features and clothes walking around a clearing, searching for who knows what as she talks aloud, limbs trembling slightly and movements frantic. A bag is close to what looks like an uneven hole in the ground where a calm male voice is coming from.
Before he can think twice, he flaps his wings and goes down the hole. He lifts up the person outside, being as careful as possible of any wounds he may have. The woman's open mouth closes when he settles on a branch near and she runs to the man's side to check upon him. He doesn't know their relationship but it's clear they're close if the way the woman looks at the man, like he's the light at the end of a tunnel, is anything to go by. Both talk quickly, but it's clear their attention is focused on him. It irks him but he doesn't go away as he inspects them from their clothes to the big bag next to the woman. Their exhausted faces and wariness tell him they're not here to hike.
He blinks when the woman finishes bandaging the guy and starts mumbling as she looks inside her backpack. She asks something from the other, which is quickly answered and makes the guy stop looking at him in awe. However, by the looks of it, it isn't what she wanted to hear. Distress slowly settles on her frame.
By the gesturing going on, he gets that there's something left inside the hole. Harry sighs but goes to retrieve the brown bag. They're clearly surprised, but Harry just wants to leave them without feeling guilty and worried.
… He really wants to stop feeling responsible all the time about other's wellbeing.
With a shake of his head, he steels his resolve and flies away.
VI
Unsurprisingly, it doesn't end like that.
His plans of leaving the continent have been halted with the excuse of searching for new magical creatures, all his trips suspiciously close to China. Every time he's able to go farther, true, but too often he manages to fly above certain couple to see their progress.
Harry may try to deny it but the signs are all there: he's a pushover. And in his way to refute this, he's regressed into his younger reckless years, which may have amplified his trouble-magnet skills. There's no other explanation as to why he's currently surrounded by Acromantulas, a distance away of what's he's sure is their nest.
In his defense, he's not actually sure how it happened. He was trying to follow a Demiguise, a monkey-looking creature with the ability to disappear at will, as he's been curious about them since he found out their hair is the one used to make Invisible Cloaks. He took stumbling across one as a sign of luck. Unfortunately, it was a young one, who seemed to be more interested in annoying him.
And what better way to do it than by making Harry chase him around?
He should have retreated instead of going along with the little one's whims, but Harry has never claimed to be wise. Now he has to suck up and wait to see what they want from him. His experiences with the giant spiders are distressing at best and, being now treated like some sort of 'honored guest', honestly weirds him out. He really wants to apparate away but he's intrigued to know what that indigo smoke that hid their nest was. He's never seen anything like it before.
One moment he's trying to find the little Demiguise; the next one, it's like he's walked through an invisible curtain and he can suddenly see the spider webs covering the trees.
After that, the Acromantulas weren't slow to arrive. It was only his phoenix pride the one keeping him from bolting out of there. He, still feeling apprehension in their presence, crooned a melody, hoping the famous song his animagus form is known for could be enough to put him in their good graces.
And it's worked a little too well, he thinks as he hears the telltale sound of multiple legs walking across the web. He can see a shadow approaching the entrance, darkening everything near. Not a moment later, a big spider comes out, less than half the size of Azaroth but no less frightening.
'Can you speak?' Harry asks, mentally.
He can, which is good but only in Chinese. Harry could read his mind but he needs touch for it to work and that's a big no. To not offend them he broadcasts his thoughts to let them known of this. Then he does the same to introduce himself as 'Harry' before asking for his.
"Jianzhu," the speaker near him says, pointing at itself, before motioning him to follow.
Strangely he doesn't feel any dread at that. He's actually looking forward to what he will be shown. After all, the air is practically vibrating with magic.
VII
"Harry?" Jianzhu says, attempting to regain his attention from where he's playfully chasing a couple of Snidgets. Harry honestly wants to ignore him as it's always been a dream of his to play with a Snidget ever since he found out they were what Quidditch players used before the Snitch was invented. With their round bodies, golden plumage and flight ability is obvious they were made with the little bird in mind. Their long, thin beak and jewel-like red eyes the only clear differences between them.
One flies close to his beak before going to his back in the next moment. It makes him turn and note the second acromantula next to his guide. They're talking but it still sounds like gibberish to him.
He really needs to learn the language if he wants to get some answers about how this place came to be and if there are more like it in other countries. That indigo smoke is a clue, it's what hides them, and he knows it. Does that mean there is a magical secret society? He's not sure, but there's at least something hiding magical creatures from normal people and he wants to know what.
Luckily, he has a couple of Language-Lozenges candies inside his pouch. The downside is that he needs to be a human for them to work and spend some time around people who speak the language he wants to learn. He could try to look for other methods in the books he has but the lack of fingers made it hard for him to do any research. He can levitate page by page as he does when he wants to look for a new magical creature, but it's tiring and hard to do.
Great.
Using his clear distraction to their advantage, the Snidgets come flying to him like a rain of arrows. While he could easily shrug them off, Harry doesn't and pretends to fall to the ground and take the little birds down with him. They're quick to escape, but Harry is quicker. A hair away before his form can touch the ground, he apparates a small distance away from the Acromantulas, one of his long feathers brushing their legs.
They want him to leave, it's what he gets from their surfacing thoughts. He may be magical like them, but he's still an outsider.
'Can I return?' he tries to ask, but he doesn't understand their answers.
He's never felt this impotent.
With a final goodbye to the Snidgets, Harry leaves. He flies above the human pair he helped, notices they're now using a car and settles on their roof. If they're surprised, he ignores it, choosing to look down at his golden talons, the long tail trailing behind, black instead of the usual red, with only a couple golden feathers to give them some color. There are two large slightly green ones coming from it that he can move like tentacles. He curls them around himself, redirecting his gaze to his wings, also dark with gold highlights, and thinks of his human form—his wingless form—, unable to feel magic, or at least not as well, as the phoenix in him can do.
He sings a sad tune.
VIII-THEN
When he killed Voldemort and the political pressure on him grew, he no longer had the time to do anything for himself. Between assisting funerals, trials and charity's balls to gain some money for restoration—Harry was always busy.
His friends were always behind, trying to help, but they were moving on, too. The war was something they were putting behind, trying to make the best they could from a tragedy. He respected them for that as he also wanted to do the same, but couldn't. Magical Britain didn't let him move on. He was their Savior, a vestige from the war, something look, so they could remember what could have happened.
He couldn't deny being bitter, but he couldn't blame them either. If looking at him, helped them move forward, away from the purist ideals, then he was… Well, not okay. But at least not resentful.
"I can't keep waiting, Harry," Ginny once told him after a boring reunion with some members of the Wizengamot and other high ranking figures. "This is not what I want my future to be."
"You want to try for that position as a chaser for the Holyhead Harpies, right?"
"I do," she said, not surprised he knew. She sat next to him on the sofa they bought, inside the apartment they've moved a year ago. Her soft, warm eyes were all, "Let's go together", while the tight line of her lips seemed to say, "Let's find ourselves and move on."
But… he couldn't. Only three years had passed since the war and the status quo was still a fragile thing. If he left to do what he wanted, he knew that while there would be unrest for a while, life would still go on. It would take them some time, but Magical Britain would still prosper.
And that was the problem, wasn't it? It would take them longer and in that time people and magical creatures alike would continue to suffer. His popularity was still high and there was so much good he could do with it. He couldn't just leave.
If he asked Ginny to wait for him, she might do it and put him above her future to help him, but it wouldn't be fair for her. For either of them.
So he shook his head.
She didn't sigh exasperatedly like Ron would have done or told him how it wasn't healthy for him like Hermione would have. She just took his hand with a sad smile and asked him if he wanted to fly together instead.
And in that moment he couldn't have loved her more.