He has a wonderful wife, and a perfect son. He appreciates his job, and the clamor in his head is only annoying on the worst of days. He had thought that finally, after so long, he would have a happy ending. Looking back on it, Harry really ought to have known better.

He walks through the halls with a smile too wide to be real. His laugh is stilted, his eyes blink too often and he moves too slowly... He is trapped inside a husk of his own making. The firewhiskey has stopped working and the monster inside her roars for sustenance. She has found a new habit.