Disclaimer: Harry Potter is J.K Rowling's as is all the characters that appear in her books. I do not own them nor will I gain any money from them.

Note from Author: I decided to go back and fix a lot of my mistakes as well as add a few more lines (well many) to try and make the story flow a little more.

Approach each new problem not with a view of finding what you hope will be there, but to get the truth, the realities that must be grappled with. You may not like what you find. In that case you are entitled to try to change it. But do not deceive yourself as to what you do find to be the facts of the situation.

Bernard M. Baruch

Chapter 1-

"Hawwy, Hawwy! Wake up!"

"Hmmm Not now. It's still bright out…" A murmur of a sentence could be heard through the thickness of feathers and cloth. Harry tightened his grip on his pillow suffocating himself to prove a point. However, the child didn't seem to get it.

"No, no, no! You're supposed to take me to school! You prooomiiiised!" The child squeaked throwing his hands up and slapping them down against Harry's back. The child's chubby, little fingers dug into Harry's bed shirt to get a good amount of cloth. "Wakeup," the child exclaimed then yanked on the cloth.

Harry suppressed a surprised yelp before sitting up. With a sigh, the young man turned to face a now crying five-year-old boy. The child had flaming red hair and creamy chocolate colored eyes that did wonders when he wanted to fake tears. He had his father's freckled face and his mother's frizzy hair as well as a mouthful of teeth, his front teeth unusually larger then the rest.

"I know, I know. I'm up." Harry said fixing his eyes on the sheets below as he felt a dizzy spell hit. They were the worst, especially in the mornings.

"You have five minutes! Then breakfast will be suoooo-v-ed, suoo, served!" The boy still had a hard time with those tough words. He whipped his face before straightening up and showing off his mother's 'know-it-all' attitude he had inherited.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." Harry sheepishly grinned at the boy's antics before he ran off. Harry loved watching Hermione and Ron's boy. Times like these made him long for a child of his own.

He reached over to the bedside table and grabbed his round, framed glasses. No matter how many years passed by, he'd never get tired of them. The glasses were his infamous trademark. 'The Boy who Lived' rarely desired any change. He liked the way he looked. Besides, his famous scar was now covered up with unruly bangs. So people had to recognize him somehow, right?

Over the years Harry felt it unnecessary to cut his hair therefore it grew and grew until he could even be mistaken for Sirius. The only thing he did seem to clean up was his face, which he slaved every day, unlike his godfather.

Hermione was in the kitchen covered in pancake batter from head to foot. Surprisingly, she was never the greatest chief. Ron was the one that happened to cook all their family's meals. He was blessed with his mother's cooking talent. But unfortunately Ron had to go to the Ministry early that day. So it was up to his wife to prepare breakfast for the five of them: Harry, Genny (who was going to stop by later that morning), their son Aiden, their seven-year-old daughter Zoë and herself.

"Mommy Aiden just hit me!" Zoë cried loudly.

"No I didn't! She's lying! You're a lair!" Aiden pleaded for his mother to be on his side. However, Hermione was too busy cooking which made it hard for her to believe or disbeliever her son. She didn't see anything so she couldn't possibly pick sides.

"No I'm not! I never lie! You're the one that's lying-." Zoë stuck her tongue out at her little brother but unfortunately got it caught between two tasteless fingers.

"You shouldn't fight. It's unladylike." Harry grinned down at the red headed girl. She too looked like her father; she even had blue eyes like him. The only exception was that she had faded freckles like her mother.

"Well finally. We thought you died up there." Hermione sarcastically said with a half-heartily laugh. But her soft laughter stopped as she realized what she had just let slip. Her eyes widened as she covered her mouth with both hands. "I'm sorry." She lipped, her brows upturned showing that she was truly sorry.

"It's ok 'mione." He miserably smiled before walking over and kissing the top of her head as a gesture of good faith. He had finally grown enough over the summers to not break down every time someone had reminded him of what had happened. "I'm getting better. I promise."

"He's been doing that a lot lately." Aiden blurted in.

All three looked over at him.

"Promising." Aiden informed them.

Harry couldn't help but laugh. It was more of a mournful laugh, but a laugh non-the less. "He's got a point." Harry said looking over at Hermione. His sour mood was lifted, if only slightly, by her son. Harry figured he'd be cured if he had a child of his own, but what sane person would allow him to raise anyone with his state of mind.

She was grateful for her son's poor behaviour this time. She didn't want Harry to relapse back into painful memories. He was pitifully heartbroken. The loss of the only person he ever loved was still haunting him. Especially the fact that they still haven't found the body and there was a possibility that he was still alive. Harry had gone into shock after losing him and could have killed himself if Neville hadn't noticed Harry had vanished.

"Yes, " She said in a daze still relieved that Harry hadn't broken down. The first time she had realized whom Harry was seeing was a complete shock to her system. She wanted nothing more than to break them up, but now the only thing she wished for was happiness for the two. Was there still hope for Harry had his old lover?

Snapping out of her trance Hermione said, "You better take them now if you want to make it in time," Shrugging her shoulders, "I'm sorry, No breakfast this morning. Unless-" she grinned playfully at Harry. "You're willing to feed them on the way." Hopefully her children didn't have to start the day starving. Hermione never did like letting her kids leave without some food in their bellies.

"Sure, the bakery is on the way," Harry said heading over to the table where Hermione's two youngsters were seated. "I still don't see why you have them in a muggle school. Can't you teach them? You are on leave from the Ministry." Harry said turning around and pointing to her stomach. "You have at least six months to show them something." Harry remembered when he was younger; he never really liked the schools he was forced to go to. "Anyways, don't wizards stay home until they're eleven?"

"I wouldn't know Harry. Like you, I was raised by muggles." She said lightly with a smile. Oh how could he have forgotten? She was just so in tuned to the way of the wizarding world that he must of forgot that her parents were muggles. "I don't see why not. It doesn't hurt them or anything. Learning more before Hogwarts can be a good thing." She said raising her chin as she cleaned off her hands on the apron she wore. "It did wonders for me!" She proudly stated.

"Alright, I see your point." Harry said to cool down his best friend's pride. "Come on you two." He said swatting at Aiden and Zoë. "Can't be late!" He picked Aiden off his chair before turning back to Hermione. "Thanks 'mione."

"What for?"

"For everything. For nothing, for everything that's nothing." He said with a laugh. He sat the boy down before grabbing his jean jacket from the back of a kitchen chair and putting it on.

The three left the kitchen in a hurry, stopping only to grab the children's coats before leaving for the bakery.

"I should have told him…" Hermione's eyes drifted to a piece of parchment that was rolled up on the counter. "I wonder what he would of done if I had."

Harry looked down at the two redheads with a playful grin. "Nooo."

"Yeeees." Aiden said widening his eyes for emphasis.

"Your father will. I have business to attend to." He put his hands against his hips and raising his brows. He too could use his body to stress the importance of what he was saying.

"But… but"

"No buts." Harry insisted

"Common Aiden!" Zoë said getting tired of her brother's pathetic pleas and pulled against the back of his shirt collar. She tugged twice before letting go and heading inside the school building. She wasn't going to be late because her brother wanted to whine. She was good student.

Harry watched as Zoë left then waved goodbye to Aiden, "Maybe next time," He said with a smile. "Bye," he mouthed before hearing an all too familiar whine.

A blond boy, only standing a few yards away, was facing his mother and his back was turned towards Harry. "But Mother I don't bloody want to! Muggles are disgusting! Grandmother was right. We shouldn't be here." The boy had a bossy, I'm better and you're not, attitude that fit all to well with his prep clothes and it reminded Harry so much of his old school rival.

The blonde boy's mother was bent down on one knee fussing over her son's tie.

"Don't say that word." She hissed nervously, looking from side to side, making sure no muggles were watching. She'd have to remind her son why they didn't use such language out in the non-magical world later that night.

Harry automatically recognized her, Pansy Parkinson, same year Slytherin at Hogwarts. It wasn't that hard either. She didn't change from what she looked like at Hogwarts. She even had her same attitude as he could tell. She was still pug faced and scrawny. Her black hair cut short in a fashionable bob, the kind woman wore back in the 20's. "Merlin, it can't be." His eyes widened even more as the boy turned around. His face was long and narrow with high cheekbones, the spitting image of his father. Even his hair was styled just like Draco's when Harry first met him back in Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions.

The boy groaned but ran off hearing the bell toll for school to start.

"Nice kid."

It was like something out of a cartoon, Pansy's eyes bulged out of their sockets and her heart started to thump so loudly she could swear it would rip out of her chest. No way could Harry be there. He was supposed to be in London. Or that's what Blaise had told her. The little twit would get his, just like her son. There was no way she wanted to run into the ex-Gryffindor.

"Err, Thanks." She said turning around to meet him. He was still taller than her but only a few inches. Her high heels helped greatly. His face grew to a nice curve that did well with his slim built. The hair however, had to be changed. It contrasted with the handsome looks the young man possessed. "He takes after his father, you know," Pansy said gaining more confidence in herself. The famous Potter wouldn't get the best of her. "Of course you should know of all people," She said now grinning at him seeing there was no way for her to loose now. She had the upper hand. Now the only thing left was to weasel out before -

Harry growled. She was still stuck up as ever, a true queen of Slytherin if he ever saw one. "Yes, I should know." Harry narrowed his eyes and clenched his teeth together, his anger getting the best of him. "But the one thing I don't get is why in Merlin's name he picked you of all people" He hissed loudly and not so friendly, "to have his child." She never deserved him. They were both proud and spineless at times but Pansy never deserved to be with his prince in the end.

-Too late. He had exploded

This was exactly why Pansy didn't want to run into him. Blaise had told her that the Weasel's clan was attending the same school but he had never said that Potter was taking care of them. Wasn't he supposed to be in London sulking?

She averted her eyes seeing that suddenly the school building was more interesting then her former adversary. The school was cosy but lacked taste. Pansy was told by no means was she to speak about her son's father, especially to Harry. "Yes well…" She was at a loss of words. What could she say?

"So where is he?" Harry had never given up on the hope that his old lover was still alive. There was no way he was killed. But the persistent nag kept him from getting much sleep; what if he really were dead?

She was shocked at the sudden change of voice. It was hard to ear without leaning in or straining. Harry talked in a whisper now, a calm but heartbreaking whisper. "I don't know." She lied, "I don't live with him. I'm married to Blaise and have been for the last seven years." Oh how she wanted to give in. But she had to remind herself that it was only her mother's instincts that wanted to comfort Potter and nothing else. When she addressed the current situation she made sure that she left no room to argue seeing it had been only seven years since they left Hogwarts.

If it weren't for the obvious fact that Harry was a man, Pansy would have guessed she was talking to a woman because only woman could change her emotions as quickly as Harry did. "That can't be true! You had Draco's child! I know for a fact that Blaise doesn't have the Malfoy genes. You can't bloody lie to me like this. I… I need to see him." Harry begged his voice crackling.

Oh god, why did he have to break down now Pansy thought to herself as she watched the man crouch down, burying his face into his hands. He wasn't weeping but looked close to it.

Pansy couldn't believe what she was hearing. The Gryffindor hero was pleading to her. Pleading to see none other then the Slytherin prince! But her good mood was horribly ripped away hearing the way Harry had begged. "I don't know!" She insisted. Like hell she would break her promise. "Why don't you ask Granger?" She sneered. "The mudblood had a search warrant out and it seems that she had gotten the results back." Pansy spat back before turning around. She couldn't handle the ex-Gryffindor anymore and quickly fled.

"Hermione?" Whispered Harry.