Coming To Terms

He knew that he shouldn't be here; it would bring back far too many memories, too many for him to fall back into his usual routine of forgetting. He had last seen him four years ago. Four long years in denial of what had happened. Four long years of trying in vain to forget. Gathering himself together he made himself put one foot in front of the other and made his way down the path to the small cottage. It would be so easy to just turn and vanish again, but when had he ever done anything the easy way?

***

Dumbledore had fallen during the raid of Hogwarts, lead by the Death Eaters as their children sold out the school from the inside. The old man had been felled not with a spell, but with a simple dagger in his back. McGonagall and Madame Pomfrey were unable to do anything to save his life, and he had died even before the castle had fallen. At least he didn't have to see his beloved Hogwarts fall to their enemies.

It was in the dungeons that Harry had met the Dark Lord. Alone and unafraid, he faced him in the near darkness: the man - no, the monster, who had killed his parents, the one who had instigated the deaths of hundreds of Muggles and wizarding families over the four-year war that had started during Harry's sixth year at school. Harry had graduated and had already spent two years with the Aurors. He knew so much more now than the boy whom Voldemort had faced before. He was an Auror, experienced in many raids and battles and had come out victorious on each one.

The battle hadn't been what most people now believed. Harry smiled wryly remembering; let the fools believe what they wished. He had heard the theories surrounding the final battle, and all were wrong. If only they knew that the saviour of the wizarding world had ended the Dark Lord's life with a lowly Muggle weapon. What would they say to that? It was something that Voldemort wasn't expecting, and that is what made it such a perfect idea. Unsmiling, Harry had raised the gun and had fired and had continued to do so until there were no bullets left. Voldemort had stood in surprise. Harry had appeared from the darkness of the dungeons and simply fired the Muggle contraption repeatedly, no biting remarks, only bullets. Harry had watched Voldemort touch his chest with a shaking hand and look at the blood coming from the multiple wounds in wonder. Then he had fallen, never to rise again. After nineteen years the Dark Lord had finally died.

That was how the saviour of the wizarding world had killed the Dark Lord Voldemort, Dumbledore's Golden Boy resorting to Muggle technologies rather than magic to defeat the Dark Lord.

As Voldemort fell Harry had taken out his wand and reduced the corpse in front of him to a pile of ash. Turning away from the sad little pile, he had returned to the fighting.

He had passed through the battle unscathed, Death Eaters and Aurors parting in their duels for him to pass.

Voldemort had fallen, they whispered. As he passed, they threw down their wands and stepped away from them. With their Dark Lord gone, defeated by the Boy Who Lived, what use was there in continued fighting?

Harry walked through the corridors to the infirmary. Madame Pomfrey sat with a crying Hermione cradled in her arms. Harry's mind went blank. He was dead. He passed the two grieving women to stand at the foot of a white infirmary bed. No boisterous voice greeted him, no gangly arms wrapping around him congratulating him on beating the Dark Lord.

Ronald Weasley lay unmoving on the white bed, his pale face the same colour as the sheets. He had been struck down by Lucius Malfoy as he helped Harry reach the dungeons and Voldemort. Hermione had killed the elder Malfoy and had rushed Ron to the hospital wing, leaving Harry to continue on alone. As always, he was alone in the end.

"He was dead before Hermione got him here," Madame Pomfrey had said from behind him in tones that were meant to be comforting. Harry didn't want comfort. He just wanted to forget. He wanted his friend back. He just wanted everything to be alright.

Stiffly he had brushed Ron's red hair away from his face and smiled sadly.

"I won, Ron. I won," he whispered before leaving both of his friends behind him.

***

Draco Malfoy had found him hours later sitting huddled in a corner of the Astronomy Tower watching the stars.

"Everyone is looking for you. They want to congratulate you on your success." Draco had said in a soft voice that was so unlike the one Harry had grown used to in school as he sat down beside him on the cold floor. "September isn't really the right month to be sitting in the Astronomy Tower without at least three layers of clothing, yet you sit here in a t-shirt and jeans."

Harry didn't respond, only continued staring at the stars. Draco fidgeted beside him, and that finally brought some emotion to Harry's pale face, a ghost of a smile. The ever poised Draco Malfoy fidgeting as he sat next to Harry Potter. What would people say?

"Who are the casualties?" he asked in a dead voice, the smile gone from his face. Draco's eyes widened slightly, but he recovered quickly enough.

"Finnegan, Boot, Chang, Goyle, Brocklehurst, Snape, Flitwick, Moody, Hagrid, and George and Ron Weasley," he said in a controlled voice.

Harry blinked back tears. He would not cry. Not in front of Draco. It seemed his body had other ideas and he collapsed against Draco with a whimper. He was surprised to feel Draco's arms slip around his shaking body and rub his back soothingly.

"I just want to forget. Just help me to forget," he whispered to Draco between his sobs. Draco obliged, and for a while Harry was able to forget the happenings of that day and the days leading up to it. He was able to forget the dead, able to forget those whom he had failed.

***

Harry had removed himself from his lover's arms as the sun rose the next morning. He looked down at the blond man lying in a tangle of sheets that had been transfigured the night before. A small smile crossed his haggard face, a face too weary for his twenty years. He restrained himself from touching the fine blond hair. They were all better off without him in their lives at the moment. Hermione would cope. She had the entire Weasley clan to help her. She knew that he was alive, and that had to be enough for her for now.

The blond man began to stir in his sleep and Harry bent down and placed a light kiss on the pale forehead.

"Thank you for helping me to forget, at least for awhile," he said quietly, before climbing on his broom and leaving Hogwarts and the wizarding world behind him.

***

Harry looked into the garden and smiled fondly as he saw a young boy cavorting about wildly. He turned back to face the stern face of his old friend and smiled sheepishly.

"What did you expect me to think, Harry?" Remus Lupin asked levelly as he gestured at the small boy playing in the garden. "You turned up here two years after you vanished from Hogwarts without even a hello and handed me Michael!" Remus ran tired hands through his brown hair, now largely grey. "You didn't even tell me where you had been. Then you just up and vanish again, leaving Michael with me. It's been four years, Harry." He sighed. "Where have you been?"

Harry smiled at his old friend's tone and suppressed a childish giggle. He did owe Lupin some answers, but the fact was that he didn't have many to give.

"At least tell me who Michael's mother is, Harry. Is it Hermione? Does she know?" Harry lowered his eyes and shook his head slightly. How could he tell him this?

"Have you ever heard of male pregnancies, Remus?" he asked the old werewolf. Remus nodded, his eyes widening fractionally.

"I know that they're very rare, Harry. Very rare indeed." Remus looked at Michael, who still played contentedly in the garden. He turned his warm brown gaze back to Harry and smiled gently. "It doesn't change anything, you know. I still love you both. You and Michael are the only family that I really have. I know why you came to me now." Harry breathed easier than he had in years. It had taken a great weight off of his chest to admit this to Remus, and the elation he felt now almost compared to that when he had first held Michael in his arms.

Harry turned and watched the young black-haired boy jumping around the garden with an even smaller house-elf. His heart tugged as he watched the young boy. How he would have loved to have been able to be with him these past four years, but he had needed time to gather himself together. He hadn't been in the best of states when he showed up at Lupin's door with Michael four years ago. He had been thin and pale. He had barely been able to hand the year-old Michael to Lupin before collapsing from sheer nervous exhaustion.

"I couldn't cope, Remus." Harry admitted quietly. "Michael came as a shock to me. I didn't know what was happening, and I was scared out of my mind. I found a mediwitch in Russia who helped me with the birth. I love Michael, I really do, but when I came to you I couldn't cope. I was a mess and was in no way able to look after a child. I needed help from someone. You were the only person that I knew that wouldn't judge me." He lifted his eyes to find the werewolf's brown ones.

"I needed help, Remus. I was weak and couldn't give Michael the love that he deserved. I'm sorry that I left him with you and vanished. It was one of the hardest things that I've ever had to do, but I needed time to try and forget all that had happened." Harry lowered his head again. "I was a mess, Remus."

Remus stood up from his chair and crossed the small room to sit beside Harry on the sofa. "You still could have stayed here, Harry. You know that I'd never throw you out. Why didn't you just come to me in the first place?"

"I had completed my job. I had killed Voldemort. No one would have cared about how I fared after that. They were safe, that's all that mattered to them. It didn't matter about how many people had died to allow them to savour that safety." He said bitterly. "If I had stayed around they would have wanted me to jump to their tune, they would have paraded me about and asked me to do more for them. I had no more to give them." Remus smiled sadly at Harry's statement.

"Not all of us would have done that, Harry," he reproached mildly, his eyes searching the younger man's features. "We're not all like that."

"I know that you aren't, Remus. I know that I worried people by simply vanishing. But you, Hermione and the Weasleys wouldn't have been able to keep them away from me for very long. Eventually they would have gotten their saviour." The word 'saviour' came out the harshest of all. Sudden tears filled Harry's green eyes and Remus enfolded him in a crushing embrace.

"We would have tried, Harry. We would have tried." They both sat in silence until Harry had regained control of himself and brushed his tears away with the back of his hand.

"I'm just glad that you're all right, my boy. Sirius, James and Lily would never forgive me if I had let anything happen to you or your son." Remus pulled away from him and looked at him steadily. "You're staying this time, then?" Remus asked in a low voice. Harry looked out at his son playing in the garden and nodded.

"Staying for good this time." Looking back to Remus, a guarded expression crossed his normally open face. "No one must know, though. Harry Potter is dead, Remus. He is relegated to the history books where people will glorify him and worship him. I'm Nicholas Moray now. Harry Potter died after the battle with Voldemort." He looked out to where Michael was playing. "I don't want him going to Hogwarts as the son of Harry Potter. I don't want him in the spotlight like I was. I want more than anything for him to have a normal life."

He stalled Remus' outburst with a raised hand. "I have all the necessary documents. I've legally changed my name and moved the Potter fortune to the Moray vault in Gringrotts. For the last four years I've legally been Nicholas Moray, and I already have Michael listed as Moray instead of Potter. There is nothing you can do to make me change my mind about this, Remus. I want to actually do something with my life other than being the Boy Who Lived."

"Whatever you think is best, Harry," Remus said with a sigh, knowing when not to push the son of one of his best friends. Harry understood his old friend's reluctance, but it was best that Harry Potter remained in the history books like he should. He didn't want any hero worship, and he certainly didn't want any for his son.

"What are you going to do, then?" Remus asked after a few moments of silence.

"I'm going to teach at Hogwarts. I need to do some training first, but I should be able to go with Michael when he receives his letter. I have discussed the situation with McGonagall, their current Defence Professor was due to leave in four years but I've negotiated with him to stay on until Michael goes to Hogwarts. I'm not leaving him alone in that place."

"Do you think that's a good idea, Harry?" Remus asked in concern. Lines of worry were etched on the werewolf's pale face.

Nodding Harry turned to look at his son. "It's the only thing I can think of. It's the only thing that I'm truly good at. Nicholas Moray, Professor of Defence Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts. Not much call for it now, but some things are useful to know." Remus nodded, though he still looked concerned.

A high-pitched giggle turned both of their attention to the garden with the young boy and the house-elf. Michael was rolling over and over with the small house-elf in his arms. Harry's eyes widened when bubbles appeared all around the wildly giggling boy.

"Wandless magic," Remus informed him seriously. "I've been trying to help him control it, but I have no aptitude for it. I suppose that you're the only one here who can help him to control it. Like father, like son, Harry. You didn't expect your son to be anything but exceptional, did you?" Harry shook his head and watched his son caper around in the golden bubbles with wide eyes. "We'd better get Michael and Moki in before the poor elf gets caught in one of the bubbles." Remus stood and crossed to the patio doors that led out into the garden.

"Come and meet your son, Harry," Remus said with a warm smile. Harry grinned and stood with tears forming in his eyes.

"Thank you, Remus. Thank you for everything."

***

"Dad! Dad! Wake up! I've got the letter! I've got the Hogwarts letter!"

Harry blearily opened his eyes and cocked his head towards the alarm clock, one of the few Muggle contraptions that worked in his and Lupin's home. The big red letters read 07:00. Harry sighed and was sorely tempted to roll over and snuggle deeper back into his bed. He had no such luck.

"Dad! Daaaaad! Look at my letter!" Michael whined.

"Can't the letter wait until a more godly hour, Michael? Daddy's tired. Go pester Uncle Remus." A weight suddenly landed on his stomach, and poking his head out from under his covers, Harry met his son's wet grey eyes.

"You don't care, do you, Dad?" Michael asked in a quavering voice.

Sighing, Harry gathered his son into his arms and smiled down at him. "Of course I care, Mike. It's just that I was up late last night making lesson plans for your first year. I had no doubt that you'd get the letter, neither of us did. I was in Hogwarts, your uncle was a student there and so were your grandparents. Of course you were getting in." Harry was surprised that he made so much sense this early in the morning. He normally couldn't latch coherent sentences together until at least his third cup of black coffee.

"We'll put this up in a frame and put it over the fireplace. We need to go into Diagon Alley and get your school books and equipment." His son's face brightened, and he jumped on the bed waving the thick manila envelope about. Harry sighed and pulled the covers around his head as Remus poked his head around the bedroom door with a huge grin splitting his bearded face.

"Come on, Mikey, lets go down and get you some breakfast before your father turns into a bear. You know what he's like without his coffee." Michael giggled and jumped off of the bed, but not before giving his dad a hug.

"Don't be long, Nick," Remus added as he shooed a black-haired bundle of excitement out of the door and closed it behind him.

Harry sighed and was sorely temped to dig himself back into his covers, but Diagon Alley and school supplies called.

***

Diagon Alley hadn't changed much since Voldemort's fall. It was still a hubbub of activity and bustle, and today was no exception.

Both Harry and Lupin hated big crowds, Harry because of the celebrity treatment that normally accompanied them, and Lupin because of crowds' usual animosity towards werewolves. Michael had picked up on their unease and stuck to them like glue as they navigated the stores.

During his time away from the wizarding world Harry had performed a few simple glamours to change his appearance. His once famous emerald green eyes were now a muted olive colour, and his jet-black hair was muddy brown. Michael didn't need any glamours on him; as the son of Professor Moray, he was above suspicion. His uncanny resemblance to the famous Harry Potter was overlooked, as were his sharp grey eyes. No one had any idea as to his actual heritage. Remus knew that all Harry wanted was a quiet life with his son, and still being Harry Potter would not have allowed him that quiet life. Remus understood his desire to keep his identity hidden and after his first questioning, never questioned his motives again. He could trust Remus with his secret, the wily old man knew how to keep secrets.

Aiming to get this trip over and done with quickly, Harry bustled his small family around Diagon Alley. Ollivander's was their first stop for Michael's wand. Ollivander looked at him knowingly in the small, stuffy shop, and Harry could not help but feel that Ollivander could somehow see through the glamours that he had cast on himself.

Michael had as much trouble choosing a wand as Harry had at that age. It took a good hour for Ollivander to find the correct wand to match Michael.

"Eleven inches, alder wood with a phoenix feather and tear," Ollivander stated finally when a wisp of smoke came out of the end of the wand that Michael was holding. "That will be nine Galleons, Mr Moray." Harry handed over the golden coins and quickly exited the shop with Michael, feeling the strange eyes of Ollivander watching him suspiciously.

Remus met them outside the wand shop holding a cage, which contained a large barn owl. Michael proudly proclaimed the owl as Rial and took him from Remus with a polite thank-you and a great beaming smile. Harry felt a sudden pang remembering his own Hedwig. She had been killed during the war delivering a message to Dumbledore's Army from him. Michael bustled about his Uncle showing him his new wand and thanking him for Rial.

Harry pulled them both into the broom shop and picked up two gleaming Nimbus 4490s, one for him and another for his son. Being the new flying instructor allowed him to keep a broom on school grounds and have use of the Quidditch pitch after hours of team practice. He could do without most things, but flying was one thing that he could not live without.

He sent Remus into Flourish and Blotts with Michael to collect the required first year books and sat at an empty outdoor table of Florean Fortescue's. Two large ice cream sundaes were waiting for Remus and Michael when they reappeared out of the bustling shop. He had already begun to attack his own.

Harry looked across the busy street and paled suddenly when he saw a lean blond figure weaving its way through the crowds. The figure turned and Harry's fingers whitened against the tabletop.

Draco. It was the first time that he had seen him in twelve years, but Draco still managed to make him feel and remember. Harry quickly looked away from the pale figure, but it was too late. Draco had seen him and was walking towards him with a frown on his sharp face.

Shit, shit, shit, Harry repeated in his mind. He wasn't ready for this. He doubted that he ever would be. This was the person he had missed the most during his retreat from the wizarding world.

Draco sat down uninvited in the seat next to him and simply looked at him. "Did you find something interesting?" He asked with a twinkle in his grey eyes.

Harry looked up from where he was fixedly studying his fingernails. "I just thought that I recognised you from somewhere, that's all," Harry said as evenly as he could.

Any further conversation was stopped by the arrival of Remus and Michael. Remus paled slightly upon seeing Draco Malfoy sitting next to Harry, and Harry's obvious discomfort. Harry could almost see the cogs working away in Remus' mind until a few obvious points finally clicked. The werewolf looked quickly between Draco and Michael and his eyes widened. Harry barely suppressed a groan. Busted, and after so many years. The tongue-lashing was going to be severe.

"Draco," Remus said easily, pulling up an extra chair alongside Harry, and directed Michael to sit. Harry grinned as his son delved into the ice cream sundae with a ferocity that even earned a grin from Draco. "What brings you here on such a hectic day?"

"Just picking up a few bits and pieces for the potions lab, running low on a few ingredients," Draco replied lazily and looked quizzically at Harry, who was spluttering into his ice cream sundae.

"Sorry," he apologised with a goofy grin. "Went down the wrong way." Remus rolled his eyes, and Draco looked at him curiously.

"Are you sure that we haven't met before?" Harry spluttered again before casting a pleading glance towards Remus, who smiled evilly.

"Nicholas Moray, meet Draco Malfoy. Nicholas here is an old friend of mine; he's the new Defence Professor. Draco here has been the Potions Master for four years now. This young man attacking his pudding is Michael, Nicholas's son, and my godson. Michael is attending Hogwarts this year."

Draco nodded at Harry and smiled benignly at Michael who was serenely licking his sticky fingers.

"Do you have any idea what house you'll be in, Michael?" Draco asked the young black-haired boy. Grey eyes met grey, and Harry forced himself not to choke on his ice cream. Again. Oh God, what if he finds out? Remus frowned at Harry and shook his head slightly.

"Dad hopes Gryffindor, but I think Slytherin would be cool. I know that Voldemort came from there, but Dad and Uncle Remus tell me they aren't all like that." Harry did actually choke this time and nearly had an apoplexy when Draco began to slap his back.

"We really should be going now. I have lesson plans and the like to get done." For the second time today Harry was amazed that he made any sense.

Remus stood and pulled a now sated Michael up along with him.

"I'll see you when Hogwarts reopens then, Nicholas. I'm the Head of Slytherin House, so know that you'll be welcome in Slytherin, Michael." Draco turned to face Harry and stuck out his hand. "Nice to meet you, Moray. Hope you settle in well enough." Harry ignored the offered hand and waved as he made his way out of Florean Fortescue's.

"You have some explaining to do, Mr Moray," Remus said in ominous tones. Harry winced and directed his attention to listening to Michael rattle on about his new books.

***

"Nicholas, we need to talk," Remus said to him as he emerged coughing from the fireplace, brushing soot off of himself and Michael. "Michael, go out into the garden and play for awhile with your new broomstick. Your Dad and I need to talk," Remus told the small boy. Michael nodded and smirked at his father in a shockingly familiar way.

Harry closed his eyes and groaned as he shooed Michael out the door into the garden with his broom. He turned back into the house and faced an irked werewolf.

"Do you have something to tell me, Harry?" Remus asked in an even tone.

"Draco is Michael's other father. He doesn't know though."

"Well that much was obvious, Harry. Why didn't you tell me this earlier? We could have told Draco years ago. Actually, I should have told him when you returned; he's been looking for you for years. He kept looking even when Hermione and the Weasleys gave up." Remus shook his head and sat down in his favourite seat. "You should really have told him this years ago. How do you think that he'll react when he finds out? You won't be able to hide your identity from him for very long if we go by your actions today. You'll be lucky if you make a week in Hogwarts without him finding out."

"I'm not telling him, Remus," Harry concluded. "He doesn't need to know. To him I'm Nicholas Moray, not Harry Potter, and it remains that way. Harry Potter is dead, Remus, dead and relegated to the history books," Harry said as he left Remus sitting in his chair staring at him. Grabbing his broom, Harry went outside to play with his son.