Legacy

Chapter Three

If you say run, I'll run with you

And if you say hide, we'll hide

Let's Dance - David Bowie

****************************

Hermione, could we meet tomorrow for lunch? I really need to talk to you. I'll be at the Three Broomsticks at 11:00.

Please don't tell Ron.

Harry

Harry rolled his parchment, and tied it to the leg of the school owl he had commandeered for this mission. He looked up in the Owlery, to the empty perch where his white snowy owl has taken to sitting. Hedwig was still off, delivering his last message to Ginny, and in her advancing years, she took a little longer than she used to. However, she still had never failed to deliver a message for him, no matter if he had an address or not.

Seeing the owl off, Harry walked back to the lunchroom. He just had time to eat a quick bite before heading to his classroom - it was the Fourth years first after lunch, then N.E.W.T. practicums. He chuckled to himself thinking about his nerves that morning.

It was intimidating, that first day of teaching. He had accomplished many dangerous tasks in his life - several near death encounters with Voldemort, fighting Death Eaters, hundreds of thousands of people watching him play Quidditch during the World Cup back in 2002 and 2006... yet nothing prepared him for the terror that he felt the first day he walked into class, and looked into the equally terrified faces of the First years looking up at him.

Surely he had never been this young. They looked like babies.

Of course, once he got started, he settled down and began to enjoy himself immensely. Remus has laid out a very respectable curriculum, and Harry need only follow it and the students would be well taken care of. Looking out over the open, curious faces, any lingering butterflies left his stomach. "Today we are going to discuss blocking minor hexes. Please get into pairs and wands ready." Harry looked over the group, and began his lesson.

He had looked over the Fifth and Seventh year assignments, as well, and thought that the courses had gotten considerably harder, and was thankful that he hadn't had to go through such a rigorous course of study. Hermione, on the other hand, would have loved this.

He smiled at the thought of his best friends, Ron and Hermione. They were nicely settled near Ottery St. Catchpole, in an ever-expanding house to meet their ever-expanding family, although at the family dinner last weekend, Hermione has announced that once this latest Weasley popped out, her sixth child, she would be done. There had been much good-natured joking about this, and when Bill recalled that their mum had said the same thing after the twins were born, Ron and Ginny pelted him with bits of food.

If there was anyone he could talk to objectively about this situation, it was Hermione. She would be able to see the situation for what it was, and give him sound advice. At least, this is was he was hoping. There were many reasons for Hermione to be less than objective, the least of which were that Ginny was one of her closest friends, not to mention sister-in-law, and Ginny's brother was her husband. She would also be hurt to learn about Harry's relationship with Aurelia during their seventh year.

In the end, he hoped that she would be the best to ask for advice, simply because she would look at all angles and present a very good case. Her former position as lead Investigator for the Wizengamot demanded that she dissect a case, study it, then put it back together coherently.

When Hermione walked into the Three Broomsticks the next day, she greeted Harry with a kiss on the cheek and worried expression on her face. More times than not, when he needed help, he had either come to Ron first, or both of them. The fact that he had asked her not to talk to Ron had led her to the conclusion that whatever Harry's problem was, it involved Ginny. She knew that the Harry had taken the teaching position in order to give her a change of scenery, hoping it would be good for them. She knew things had been a little tense during the last few years.

"Harry," she said, squeezing his hands.

"Thanks for coming - I know how busy you are." They both sat down at one of the tables in the back and ordered tea.

"It's okay. We're really in the calm before the storm right now," she said. Hermione's current position as Assistant to the Minister of Magic put her in the know of much going on in the Wizarding world. They were bracing for a massive shakedown of corruption and bribery reaching to the high levels of the Ministry. Together with the information she received from Ron, who was leading the Auror's investigation, she had a unique perspective on the future of the direction that the Ministry of Magic was going.

Despite the fact that Voldemort was gone, his Death Eaters had not all gone quietly into the night. Like the First War, many were able to land on their feet, like cats, and walk away fairly unscathed. Even worse, the fear and paranoia that engulfed the Wizarding world after the fall of Voldemort gave rise to a conservative reactionary element in their society. Those who agreed with the underlying principles of the Death Eaters used this to their advantage, and had worked for the passing of numerous 'fealty laws', requiring more restrictions on travelling, employment, and marriage for those whose loyalty to the Wizarding world could not be firmly established. These laws greatly limited the rights of non-humans, part-humans, and those whose parentage could not be verified through two generations of Wizards.

Their message was deceptively simple - make it safer for everyone by giving the Ministry the authority to track, monitor, and even detain certain individuals - all for the greater good. Many people were amenable to this kind of intrusion on their lives, as long as it prevented the atmosphere of terror that had existed before. Draco Malfoy, who had proven himself as an unequivocal enemy of Voldemort, was currently one of the rising leaders of the Heritage party who favoured the passage of the fealty laws. He had an office at the Ministry, and often sat in the same meetings as Hermione, discussing amendments, increased authority of the Aurors to track and gather information, and formulating social policies.

However, there was trouble brewing for the Heritage party. Several high-ranking officials were going to be indicted for taking bribes from those attached to the Heritage party, and with the elections coming up, the timing could not be better. Remus and his advocacy group might finally be able to place some Wizards with more moderate platforms in those positions.

Between the demanding work she loved, and her busy family life, Hermione Weasley had her plate full.

"But I'm never too busy for family," she said, looking at him closely now. It never failed to amaze Hermione how the three friends had indeed become family. She had often worried when she was younger that once school ended, they would not need her anymore, and she would lose touch with them. Love and marriage had taken care of that.

She looked at his long fingers, tapping on the table, anxiously, and the deep breaths that Harry was taking. She reached over and put her hands on top of his, and asked, "Are you okay?"

Harry took a deep breath, and began to speak. He told her about his relationship with Aurelia in their seventh year. He told her about the conversation with Lupin, and about meeting Renato. He talked quietly, without much emotion in his voice, until he began to describe Ren. His voice shook, and he stopped talking and looked into Hermione's eyes.

She tilted her head, asking, "Harry, are you sure he's your son?"

"I'd bet my life on it. But if your asking if I've had any verification, then no."

"Well, that's the first thing I would recommend. Diagnostic tests. Are you in contact with her?"

Harry shook his head, "No, not since Hogwarts."

"Well, you need to know for sure. Empirical proof, one way or another."

He started to protest, but she interrupted him. "I don't want to sound like I don't believe you, but it would be an impressive hoax, getting you to trust someone, make him a member of your family. The Death Eaters are still out there. They might call themselves something else now, but there are people who would love to hurt you."

"Constant vigilance..." he said quietly. They both looked down for a moment, remembering old friends.

"Once I have proof?" he asked.

"Then... Ginny."

"How do I tell her this?"

"Just the way you told me," she said, and reached out and grabbed his hands again. "Harry, you have done nothing wrong, not really. You cannot be held responsible for something that happened when you were seventeen, something that you just found out about."

"I never told her about Aurelia," he mumbled, more to himself than to Hermione.

Hermione snorted, "Ginny knew plenty about what you were doing. She wasn't pining away for you as much as you think."

Harry looked surprised at her, then asked, "What do you mean?"

"I mean, she was dating people, too. You two weren't exclusive. There wasn't any commitment, any bonds. If you wanted to be with someone else, that was your business," she said quietly, looking at him intently. "I'm more surprised that you kept it from us. I knew you were friends with her, but I didn't realize it was so serious."

"I'm not sure how serious it was, Hermione," Harry said, feeling guilty again.

Hermione looked a little shocked. "Well, I hope it was, a little, since there is a child..."

"That's not what I meant," Harry backtracked. "It was something that meant a lot to me, but in a different way. She was a way of escaping the danger, if only for a few minutes. I'm not sure how serious we would have gotten if ... if they hadn't attacked."

They both got quiet again. Shared, sad memories flooded them.

"You must have cared about her enough to ... be with her," Hermione added.

"I did. She made me feel good." Harry smiled sadly. "She liked me, Harry, not the whole prince of Gryffindor, leader of the Resistance, but me, some kid in her class that she could joke with."

He looked outside at the people walking up and down the main street of Hogsmeade. "That whole damn year, the only time I felt normal was around her."

Hermione looked down, stirred her tea. "I'm sorry, Harry. I guess we..."

"Oh, damn, Hermione, I'm not blaming you. God knows you put up with a lot of my bad side for seven years of school, and probably a lot more since. I couldn't ask for better friends than you and Ron. But that year was just so... you two had found each other, finally," he emphasized, smiling, "and we had a lot of extra training, and people were starting to disappear, and we knew it was coming, more than anyone else, and it was so frustrating. We all had problems. I found a way to handle mine, with a new friend," he said, nodding to himself. "It was good for me."

"Back to Ginny," she said quietly.

He nodded. "Yes."

Hermione sat up, said briskly, "Tell her what you told me. She will be hurt and angry with you. She will blame you for this. She might get ugly, and throw your relationship with Renato's mother in your face." Harry's face fell listening to this. "You have to understand that none of that is what is really going to hurt her."

"It's the boy, right?"

Hermione sighed. "Yes. She will be heartbroken that you now have the child that she couldn't give you."

"But..."

"I'm not saying this is logical. I'm telling you what her heart will feel. Pain, grief, shame, bitterness and a little spite," she said, looking at the broken expression on Harry's face. "I'm sorry," she said, regretfully.

"I don't want to do that to her," said Harry, miserable.

"It's going to happen. The good news is that Ginny is a good person, and she will move on," said Hermione. "She loves you, Harry, more than you know. She wanted to be a mother so badly, part of her lives with the guilt of not being able to give you the family that you wanted."

Silence filled the air, and the only sounds heard were from the neighbouring tables, the sounds of the street, children playing outside.

"I love Ginny, she's my family."

"Harry," said Hermione, "this is what she is going to feel. You can't not let her feel that. She needs to feel that, so she can get past it."

Harry groaned, and asked, "What happens after that?"

"I guess that depends on whether you are going to tell Renato that you are his father." Hermione looked curiously at Harry, whose tea had gone cold in its cup. "Are you?"

"I'm not sure. I need to talk to his mum, find out the truth behind what happened. I'd like to be his father. I'd like the chance to get to know him, but... I'm scared. And he's almost grown, I've missed so much."

"Harry, he's the age you were when you met Sirius. You could be the most important person in his life. He needs to know you."

Sad, slow smiles crept into their faces. Memories of a smiling father figure, a barking laugh, a wagging tail. Harry understood.

"I'd better get going," she said, standing up, and reaching around to hug him. Harry felt a tug, then a sharp pull on his head.

"What?" he asked.

"Send me a piece of his hair. I'll have this verified by an outside lab. Yes, I know you could probably perform the same charm, but if he's been put there as a trap... well, I'd just like verifiable proof from some field experts," she explained.

"Ever the logical advocate, Madam Weasley," he said, bowing low to her.

Hermione laughed, tucking the bit of hair in a napkin, then into her handbag. "When will you talk to Ginny?" she asked.

Harry thought for a moment, and said, "When you give me the results. I'll get the hair today, somehow."

"Send the owl to my office, then. Ron's not too perceptive, but every once in a while..." she said. They both laughed. Ron always knew when someone was keeping something from him. He always denied his empathic abilities, but those close to him knew they were there.

"By the way," said Harry, walking Hermione to the door, "do you know who Renato's best friend is?"

Hermione's eyes started to shine. "Yes. Once you said the name, I remembered. Jack's always talking about him, but surprisingly, I've never met him. He goes home over the holidays. In fact, he asked Jack about going to visit him in Italy this summer. I was going to say no, but ..."

She pondered for a second, lost in thought. "You know, if he really is your son, than means that Jack and Renato are..."

"Are nothing," said Harry, grinning. "I thought about it already. Step cousins, by marriage, maybe once removed? Something like that... I'm not sure."

Hermione put her arm around him one more time, then kissed him on the cheek and left.

One down, two to go.

He knew that he should wait for Hermione's test, to be certain, but he felt so strongly about Renato's paternity, that he went ahead and prepared for his talk with Ginny. He lay out in his head what he was going to say, and answers to questions she was going to ask.

He also decided to go ahead and send a letter to Aurelia. No sense in putting off the inevitable, he thought wryly, and the sooner get received a response from her, the sooner this whole mystery would be solved, for better or worse.

*****************************

After three attempts, crumbled sheets of parchment scattered around him, Harry was satisfied with the letter.

Dear Aurelia,

I've met Renato. He's a wonderful boy. I'd like to speak with you about him. Would it be possible to meet with you at your earliest possible convenience?

Regards,

Harry Potter

That was okay, he thought. In case everyone was wrong, it still looked official enough that he could pass it off as an academic inquiry.

He walked over to the Owlery, found Hedwig, back from her trip to St. Mungo's and hooting playfully with the other owls. She had taken to staying there, instead of his room. He supposed she was feeling nostalgic as well. Harry called her to him, tied the letter to her leg securely, and watched her fly off in the sky. It reminded him so much of old times. So much this week had been like a step back in time, seeped in memories he had forgotten. Walking back to his rooms, he expected to see Fred and George bounding down the stairs, or Seamus rounding the corner, or Colin, or Neville...

There he was, getting ready to go flying, it looked like. Renato was dressed in muggle clothes, Harry noted. He wore them often when he was flying, or out of class.

"Renato," said Harry, greeting him as they met in the hall.

"Good evening, sir," he replied, nodding his head at Harry.

"That's a nice broom, may I?" Harry recognized the latest generation Firebolt, the Firewing. It was very expensive.

"Oh, of course, sir," he said. He turned it, handle first, to Harry, and looked up at him with admiration.

He is so polite, so polished, Harry thought. It reminded him vaguely of Draco Malfoy, but not in a bad way. He's received a good upbringing, that's obvious. Better than I had, anyway, he reflected.

"Good flying today, Renato?" asked Harry, as they fell into step, walking together.

"Yes sir, perfect weather, not too cold yet," answered Ren. Harry felt the broom in his hands, it was impressive. He had not bought a new broom in several years, didn't fly as much as he used to. Apparating was not as fun, but so convenient.

They turned and walked toward the Quidditch Pitch.

"Where are you from, Ren?"

"Oh, I was born near Durham, but spent most of my childhood in Italy, on my grandparent's place. Mum and I have a flat in London, and that's where we've been for the past couple of years, though. She travels a lot, with her job, and as long as I can remember, she has taken me with her. It's great," Renato chattered on, animated.

"That sounds exciting," Harry smiled. It was infectious.

Renato nodded. "I'm very fortunate, sir. I love to travel."

"So, you speak Italian?" Harry was curious to know more about him.

"Yes, sir, as well as French, Spanish, and of course, English."

Impressive, Harry thought. Well, his mum was Ravenclaw.

"How long have you been on the House team?"

"Since last year, sir, Jack and I made the team at the same time."

Harry remembered hearing all about that from Ron, ever the proud papa.

"You must be good, to make Seeker so young."

Ren looked up at Harry. "Professor, coming from you, that's a real complement." The boy paused for a second. "You are a real hero to us Gryffindors, and not just the Quidditch players. We are all so proud to have you back with us. We're dedicating the win on Saturday to you."

Harry was surprised to hear this. He has felt very positive about being back at Hogwarts, but his mind was so preoccupied with the Renato situation that he hadn't really spent much time thinking about what the other students thought of him.

Harry felt a lump in his throat. "Thank you, I really appreciate that," he said, looking pleased. He cleared his throat. "Going to win, then?"

"Oh yes, sir. Not going to let you down."

Harry decided to change the subject, before he got too emotional. This boy has so much poise, it was mind-boggling. They were almost at the pitch.

"My friend Hermione Weasley says that you are trying to lure her son to Italy this summer."

Ren laughed, a loud friendly laugh. "I hope so, Professor. My grandparents have a nice place, some land, its really great."

Harry had looked into Ren's personal file, and knew that his grandparent's "place" was a small principality. Ren was much more affluent that he let on. Harry wondered it that was part of his upbringing, too, or if he simply did not realize he was an heir.

Ren chattered on. "Jack has never ridden a horse, and I promised him I would teach him how. We have some Spanish ponies stabled there for me to ride, along with the others that my grandmother owns."

They sat down in the stands, and continued talking. Harry felt a little guilty at his blatant attempt to gather information from the boy.

"You like to ride?" he asked.

Renato nodded enthusiastically, and said, "Oh yes, sir, its not like a broom, but still very exciting. Merging with another living creature, feeling it under your control. It's a unique feeling."

"I recall - I once rode a hippogriff that belonged to a friend," Harry said, grinning.

"Really, that's incredible, like flying and riding at the same time."

Harry had never thought of it like that, but it was true. He laughed, and said, "I recall not enjoying it too much."

"Oh, well, it sounds cool, at any rate."

He found himself wanting to know more about Ren, but the boy was here to fly. On the other hand, he was sitting next to Harry, obviously interesting in talking to him. Or was he just being polite? Harry decided on a couple more questions, and then he would let Ren have his fun.

Harry continued digging. "So," he said, trying to sound casual, "what about your father?" What a complete bastard I am, he thought to himself.

"I never knew him, sir," said Ren, a little regretful. "He was killed in the Great War, before I was even born."

"Oh, I'm sorry," said Harry, his heart aching.

"Me too, actually," Ren said, more seriously. "I think he must have been very brave. I'd like to have known him, or at least a little more about him. Mum is very ...she didn't keep anything of his, and never talks about it. I think it really hurt her, when he passed, so I don't ask. I don't want to upset her." Ren's face darkened a little, then he smiled. "But I have a super grandfather, he taught me everything that a dad could have taught me, and other family members, older cousins, and Nigel's dad, he's been very good to me."

"Neville Longbottom?"

"Yes, he takes me all the places he takes Nigel. Nigel's mum and my mum are good friends."

There was a break in the conversation, and Harry was going to get up and leave, when Ren opened his mouth.

"Sir," he paused, "may I ask you a question?"

"Certainly, Ren." Harry thought he had bothered the boy enough; he couldn't refuse him a question or two.

Renato took a breath, and plunged in. "What was it like, sir, I mean, you killed Voldemort. You were still in school, but you had to, I mean, it just seems so unbelievable that you did that when you were so young." He looked up at Harry, hero-worship in his eyes. "How did you manage it?" he asked.

Harry got quiet. He never spoke of the battle. He never did interviews, he didn't answer reporters, he avoided all references to it altogether. He was on the verge of telling Renato that it was a part of his past that he wanted to forget, when he heard his own voice answering.

"I had help. Loads of help and they never get the credit they deserve. Everything that happened to me here, and trust me, it started long before '98, I had help with," he said.

Harry looked over at the castle. "Every year something bad happened to us. Every year. But I always had help. Jack's parents were my best friends in the world, you couldn't ask for better. They were the family I never had, you see," said Harry, who stopped and turned back to Ren. "My parents, well, they were dead, and ... I didn't have anyone but those people I met here."

"I knew that you were orphaned, sir, I mean, everyone knows about..." he whispered, "the scar."

Harry laughed. It was his own damn fault that it all had become so shrouded in mystery.

"Ah, yes, the scar. The famous bloody scar." He pulled his hair away from his forehead.

"There it is."

Ren was pale, looking at it. "You were just a baby, too..."

"It used to bother me, when I was at school here," Harry continued. "Painful, whenever Voldemort was particularly angry, or active, or happy. It's been useful, too, saved a couple of lives on occasion, but all in all, it's been horrid," said Harry, looking over at Ren, and realizing that he hadn't spoken this calmly, or this honestly, in years, if ever, about his experiences. Ren was still looking up at him, at the scar, amazed.

"I'm sorry, Ren, I didn't mean to scare you."

"No sir, it's been privilege, listening to you," Ren said. "You really are a hero to us, Professor, all of us, but especially the Gryffindors. We are so proud to have you back with us."

Harry stood up. He felt some of the weight that he had carried, subconsciously, for years, lifting as he spoke about his past. Maybe it wasn't something that he had to 'not talk about' all the time. He realized that he made people uncomfortable with his detachment to the subject. Maybe it was time to start changing that.

"Confident you're going to win on Saturday? I feel like placing a wager with Professor Snape, and I need to know that I'm not going to lose," said Harry, smirking.

"We have an excellent team, sir. We won't let you down," Ren declared. "Some of the kids have already started preparing for the victory party afterwards. You'll stop by, of course?" he asked, his eyes dancing.

"Wouldn't miss it. I'll see you later, then," said Harry, putting his hand on Renato's shoulder.

"Good bye, Professor. Thank you for the... thanks for talking with me."

"The pleasure was all mine, Renato," said Harry, who walked slowly back to the castle, turning several times to watch Ren flying high in the sky, making dives and loops.

It occurred to Harry that while Ren was out flying it might be a good time to go get some hair from his room. He had planned on asking a House Elf to assist him, but the more he got to know Ren, the more he wanted to know about him. And it wouldn't hurt him to get a closer look at the Gryffindor dormitories, right?

Slipping into his room to get his Invisibility Cloak, he made his way to the Gryffindor common room, and chatted with the Fat Lady until he heard footsteps coming down the hall. He threw the cloak over his head, and followed them into the portrait hole.

He noticed several students lounging on sofas, or studying in chairs by the fire. In the far corner, what sounded like a rousing game of Exploding Snap was ending, with several boys screaming in high-pitched voices. He chuckled to himself, feeling old, and made his way up the stairs, taking care not to run into some first years who were barrelling downstairs.

He walked into the familiar dorm room, currently empty, and more memories came rushing back. He had forgotten how comforting this room had been, tucked into a tower with its curtains, and windows, and four-poster beds.

Until he was eighteen years old, this was the only room he had ever called 'home'.

The first thing he noticed how messy things were. Books, clothes, parchment, candy wrappers, muggle magazines, all scattered across the floor. Harry sat down on a bed, felt something sticking to his hand. Were those toenail clippings? He got up quickly.

It wasn't hard to tell which bed was Ren's.

There were two pictures out on the table next to Renato's bed. One was of him and his mother, wearing ski clothes, standing in the snow. Another thing he probably did well, Harry smirked. The other picture was of Ren standing behind two older people, maybe his grandparents, Harry imagined. They were looking up at him with pride in their eyes, and he held his grandmother's hand, not embarrassed in the least bit. Renato obviously had grown up with a strong sense of family.

The contents of his trunk were chaotic, as if someone has been looking frantically for something and hadn't bothered cleaning up after himself. Finally, Harry spotted a hairbrush - Hermione had said that this was the easiest piece of 'evidence' - Harry cringed at that word - to get a hold of.

He took some hair, placed it in a small sterile flask he had 'liberated' from Snape's classroom, and made his way out of the dormitory, and back to his office. He'd owl this to Hermione in the morning, though it was not a pressing matter to him, not anymore. He felt he had all the proof he needed already.