Disclaimer: Harry Potter and his world belong to J. K. Rowling.

Notes: My stories diverge from Canon from the end of Hogwarts Year 5. Harry's family: Harry has been married twice, and widowed twice. Ginny's children are Adam Bourne, and Margaret, Victoria and James Potter. Luna's daughter is Beth Potter, who is a natural Telepath, and is now married to Jeremiah, who is also a natural Telepath. There is also an illegitimate son, Helmer Roos, who is Swedish.

*Harry acquired a slight brain injury when he killed Voldemort, and there was more damage after a severe illness. His balance is poor, and there are some other problems with his health.

Warning: Some chapters of this story have some sexual content. Rated for mature readers.

Chapter 1:

Adam Bourne, senior researcher in the Department of Mysteries, stuck his head into the office of Jebedee Shacklebolt, head of the Department of Public Relations.

"Dad's home," he said, and Jebedee looked up, surprised.

"When?"

"Friday. I don't think anyone knows yet, except the family."

A broad grin spread over the face of Jebedee.

Adam was smiling at him. "Go visit, if you want - he'll be delighted!"

"How's his health?" asked Jebedee. Harry had had a lot of problems with his health for a while.

Adam was on his way off, and just said, "Oh, so, so," wagging his fingers in a meaningless gesture.

Jebedee was left wondering. Just what did 'so so' mean?

Jebedee was in his early 50s now, and his hair was greying. He also had some facial scarring, other scarring on his body, and depended on an artificial leg. He'd been in the wars since he'd last seen Harry Potter! He was fit again now, though, and as strong as he'd ever been. It had hurt to find himself an amputee, but many of his fellow aurors had lost their lives in the recent fighting.

Jebedee told his assistant, Julius, that he was going out, and walked as briskly as he could to the Atrium, where he would apparate out of the Ministry of Magic.

Five minutes afterward, Julius remembered the important meeting that Jebedee was supposed to be attending shortly. He swore, and hoped he would not be blamed for it. He didn't know where Jebedee had gone in such a hurry, but it was certain that the meeting had been forgotten!

Jebedee appeared in the Apparation Zone of Harry's estate, 600 yards from the homestead. The place basked in the gentle May sunshine, but it was quiet. He saw no-one and wondered where the security guards were that Harry should have. Not for the first time, Jebedee thought that Harry needed more young, fit, fighting wizards in his employ, rather than the motley collection of squibs and muggles he surrounded himself with.

His attention was caught. Turning into the driveway from the road was a swiftly galloping horse, who leapt a couple of intervening fences rather than taking the track, and hurtled straight toward him.

Jebedee was tense for a moment, even starting to raise a hand to draw his wand. But the horse was already almost on top of him, and Harry was off, only holding the horse's mane very briefly for balance, before taking Jebedee's hand, and shaking it warmly.

But Jebedee pulled him closer into a hug, patting his back. "You're good!" he said, "Not a cane, even!"

Harry was grinning, as delighted as Adam had said he would be. "Usually a cane," he said, "And you too?"

Jebedee carried a cane. A false leg was apt to snag when out of doors, and a cane was prudent.

They turned and walked toward the house, on a rather ill defined narrow track. Harry's place had few visitors. The horse walked with them, every now and then nudging Harry in the back, until he turned, casually vanished the rope rains attached to a loose halter, patted him, whispered in his ear, and the horse stood, watching them leave.

"You were on a little spotted horse last time I saw you ride," commented Jebedee.

"Jumbuck," said Harry. "He was closer to the ground in case I fell. He's pretty old now, though."

"And who's the one you were on?" asked Jebedee. He knew Harry liked to talk about his horses.

"That's Kinsman, you would have seen him before, a son of Kinship." And he pointed out Kinship, the glossy chestnut mare grazing in a grassy field, a couple of young horses with her, and heavily in foal again.

"This is to be her last foal," said Harry, "She's getting a bit old, too."

When they got to the house, Harry poked his head into the kitchen. Old Milly sat in a comfortable chair, thickened legs at ease on a footstool. But young Tracy was bustling about, involved in the cooking of cakes and biscuits under the direction of her aunt. House Elves were available also, if they needed extra help, and Harry didn't hesitate when he casually asked Tracy to organise a morning tea for himself and for Jebedee. He was a lucky man in some ways, Harry Potter, he had hardly ever had to do any cooking and cleaning for himself.

Jebedee and Harry had a bit to catch up on. And Harry learned for the first time that rumours had spread about the relationship between himself and his daughter. Not that Jebedee said anything, just that it was so prominent in his mind, that Harry heard it anyway.

There were a lot of changes in the Ministry, and especially in the Auror Department. Their ranks had been decimated by the fighting, and three times the number of trainees as usual had been taken on, and a dozen more qualified aurors lured in from America, and even more from Europe. Jebedee gave Harry the list of those dead. Eli, Trevor, Craig, Tom, and some young ones - Jack, Bernard and Peter. Others, too, whom Harry didn't know as well. Harry was upset.

"There was Anna, too," Jebedee added.

"Not Anna!" said Harry. He looked away. He had known them all, been friendly with them all, and Eli had been a friend. Anna, Anna had been special.

"Andrew?" he asked.

Andrew Pritchard had been a close companion for a time when he had been the Coordinator of their overseas trips. Harry had enjoyed being with Andrew. He was not an auror then, and Harry and Andrew had regularly slipped the bodyguards, and got into mischief together. Andrew had transferred into auror training after being fired from his job for incompetence. He'd been one of those friends who'd been given the coordinates to Harry's home in those brief few weeks when he'd welcomed visitors to his hidden home. It had been a time of partying, as Harry had fully expected to die quite soon. He'd just been going to have one more go at overcoming the problems of fits and nervous attacks.

"He's qualified now, of course," said Jebedee. "Doing OK, I think," though actually he'd heard that he was a bit slack, especially in the paperwork department.

"I should not have gone away," Harry said finally. "I might have been able to help."

But Jebedee said gently, "We're the aurors, Harry. It's our job. For so long, it was unusually peaceful. Dad told me that when he was younger the Department had more than twice the numbers of aurors, and they lost people then from time to time."

"But so many! What was going on?"

"Well, it seems like it was a concerted effort to take power, even to set up in opposition to the Ministry. They were mostly British born, but they came from America and Canada mostly, and some from countries in Europe."

"Is it over?"

"Oh, yes, we won in the end."

"Your injuries?" asked Harry.

Jebedee nodded. "Zack's still at home, but it looks like he'll come good, and several others have had to transfer into different departments as they no longer meet the fitness requirements for an Auror."

"Is Sanaz all right?" asked Harry.

"Married, with triplets, if you think that's all right," laughed Jebedee.

The news of deaths and injuries in the ranks was not new to Jebedee, but Harry still felt sore. "I should not have gone away," he said again. "I can apparate to a person now - should I tell them, do you think? They can call me in their mind, and as long as I know them, I may very likely hear, and I can come and help."

Jebedee stared at him. This was new, and as extraordinary an ability as anything else that he knew of Harry Potter. But then Jebedee looked away, thinking, silent for a while.

"Dad told me before he died," he finally said, "That he and Mark went through the Ministry file on you one day, and they took out everything that spoke of unusual abilities. The spell-breaking was left in, of course, and an old report was left in that firmly stated you could only do magic without a wand when you were fighting or frightened. And Trevor intended to take great care what went on record from then on, so that hopefully, no-one will try and bring you down just because they think you're too powerful."

"I never thought about a Ministry file, but I suppose all those reports have to go somewhere... It was very good of them."

"Percival Weasley is Minister for Magic now - and he's just the type to think that a person outside the Ministry should not be too powerful." He ended firmly, "I think you should do as you've always done, try and keep your abilities quiet, and if you have developed more abilities, like apparating to a person, or hearing them when you're not close, you should keep them even more quiet!"

Harry was thinking about what he had said, and finally said, "You're probably right - though I don't think Perce would try and hurt me, he was my brother-in-law, and Ron's brother, too, my own children's uncle."

"You don't understand people very much, sometimes, do you?" said Jebedee.

Harry dropped his eyes, "Maybe I don't."

Jebedee was thinking that this was turning into an unexpectedly serious discussion, and was looking for a lighter topic. But he was not put to the effort, as a tiny child appeared beside Harry's knee.

"Can I have a cake, Boss," he said, helping himself.

Harry laughed, and pulled him onto his knee. "Does your Mum know you're here?" he asked, as the child covered him with cake crumbs.

Jebedee was wondering, and his train of thought led to something else. "Helmer Roos - what's he doing now?"

"In his second year of training to be an auror," said Harry. "This is young Simon. He's the son of Chris and Chrissy, whom you know."

Jebedee looked uncomfortable, "Did you read my mind?"

Harry laughed. "I never look at people's minds without a very good reason - but this time you were pretty obvious! A little boy on my knee, and you promptly start thinking of illegitimate children!"

"That was something - that duel you fought with him, up until he told you," Jebedee said, adding, "Poor Helmer, he didn't know what he was taking on!"

"He hasn't duelled since, he tells me - only when they're set to do it in training, and now he can undo his spells himself, so he's not such a problem." He continued, "I was lucky he came along when he did. I hate to think of the lecture Hermione would have given me if he'd turned up when I was healthy! You should have heard how she raked me down when I admitted to Julia! I thought I was careful before then, but I've been extremely careful since, in spite of Helmer."

Jebedee said teasingly, "You go with an awful lot of women - what if there's more?"

But Harry shook his head. "I'm sure there's no others. I'm too careful!"

In Queensland, Australia, another son of Harry's, a large blonde boy, not long turned nine, gave the last thumps to a smaller child of the same age, before sauntering back to class. There were a few others scattered around the world...

Jebedee was asking Harry about resuming his spell-breaking stints. Harry shrugged, and said honestly, "I really wouldn't care if I never broke another spell. But I'm the only one who can do it. It makes it rather an obligation."

"Do you get no satisfaction from it, then?"

"Well, yes, I do, I guess, but I'd be better pleased if I could train others to do it. If I had my choice, I would be a teacher again. That was the best time of my life, when I was a teacher, and married to Ginny. I was very happy with Luna, too, of course, but I was no longer a teacher by then."

They talked on and on, until Tracy came in and asked if Jebedee was staying for lunch. Jebedee looked at his watch, and said he'd best be getting back.

Harry strolled with him to the Apparation Zone, and it was not until they were halfway there, that Jebedee exclaimed, "Damn - I was supposed to be in a meeting. I clean forgot! Weasley'll be furious!"

Harry grinned. It seemed strange to him that Jebedee, whom he profoundly respected, would be worried about what Percy would say. But he remembered. He shouldn't mock Percy. Perce was now Minister for Magic, and he knew from experience that a Minister for Magic made a very bad enemy.

**x**

A week later, Harry was working again, starting a few days' spell-breaking in London to catch up after nearly three years' absence.

Healer Ben Weasley was presiding, and it seemed that Harry was still to be watched, or protected, whichever it was, as two aurors had been rostered to be with them, one in the office as he worked, one in the waiting room or outside, as the auror thought best.

Beryl, an auror whom he knew, had come with them to introduce them to Harry, but Harry eyed them with some suspicion - they'd been recruited from Germany, and were big, tough looking men, with grim expressions. But then, so were the English aurors, and they had become friends. So he greeted them with courtesy, only making sure not to turn his back on them.

Hermione had taken over from her son at their practice, as Ben had seldom had the opportunity to watch Harry as he worked. No patients thought of complaining - Healer Granger was a very well known mediwizard.

On the third day, Emil Schultz turned up to observe. Schultz was the new head of the Auror Department. Like several of the aurors, he had also been recently recruited from Germany, to the annoyance of many of the English aurors, who thought themselves just as well qualified, and with infinitely superior local knowledge. But Percy Weasley had made the decision. Percy thought that the Aurors' Department had been too lax for years, although he had to admit that they had done well in the recent battles.

Emil Schultz was very interested in Harry Potter, and the file was surprisingly uninformative. There were rumours of a lot more power than was described, and Schultz watched those old films of Harry, especially the one in which he had looked at Robin Griffin, and he had died, and then he looked at Andrew Smith-Burton, and he had died.

It was only three days before Harry was caught up with the backlog of work, and he had not once needed even the slight effort that the observers would feel as a gentle tingle of magic in the air. All a bit of a bore, really, and Franz apparently thought it beneath his dignity to shoo out the cured patients afterward, so at first, they were sometimes delayed by too much gratitude. But Ben soon got into the way of doing that job, becoming increasingly firm as the week progressed.

Franz and Emil were not particularly impressed, which was a bit silly really. Harry Potter was the only one in the world who could cure these patients so easily, although in recent years, his daughter Beth had learned to work cures with telepathy, and just a touch of magic, with a lot more finesse than her father would ever have with that method. The telepathic method took longer though. Harry cured most of his patients with a bare glance, although he waved a wand, and muttered an incantation as a matter of form.

Ben asked Harry to do more work the following week. Stan McMillan, who was still the head of the Department for International Cooperation, had spread the word, and there were a lot of requests from overseas. Harry agreed casually, and strolled outside into Diagon Alley. It had been a long time since he'd wandered this alley, and he thought that he could probably do it in a more leisurely fashion than ever before. No-one seemed to be wanting to kill him these days, and even when he was recognised, hardly anyone seemed to be wanting to approach him.

The aurors followed him. Harry Potter ignored them.

There was a certain hostility in the air from a small group, who were looking at him very intently. He opened his mind to them, were they about to throw a Death Curse? But no, their minds were speaking of unnatural powers, a 'Devil's Disciple,' an incestuous relationship, and, from a couple of grey-haired men, came a very human and simple resentment. He was nearly seventy, and still looked like a young man!

Harry shrugged and strolled on. He could live with that.

It didn't take long before it was widely known that he was back, and scandalous rumours became even more scandalous when word spread that his daughter was pregnant. Had he married her off the moment she became pregnant, and then abandoned her? It was known that she had met her husband just three days before the marriage.

But when placards began to be carried by a certain small group, they did not refer to incest, instead they mostly carried the word, 'Monster,' and there were pictures of a young man in a bathing suit, and reminders that Harry Potter was nearly seventy. Had he sold his soul to the devil?

Harry was irritated. They should have known that some wizards live a long time. He was not the first, and he was not the only one. Madam Crick was known to be a hundred and thirty for instance. And he was still only sixty-nine, and with the health problems he was subject to every now and then, he probably wouldn't make anything like a hundred and thirty!

He put some thought into how to avoid notice of his continuing youth in the muggle world though. Maybe he should stop being seen by the neighbours, and somehow become his own grandson, for instance...

After a month at home, there was the summons that he had been expecting. Was he interested in doing overseas trips again? The Ministry of Magic loved him doing overseas stints. It was enormous prestige for British wizardry, and he suspected that Percy would not be able to resist that, even though he may not approve of Harry himself.

At the beginning of June, he presented himself at the Ministry for a conference about re-commencing the trips. Conference Room 2 again. He was beginning to know that room rather well. But there were more changes. Stan McMillan was in the same position, but both Ministry Healers had left, and had joined forces to set up a Private Practice in Bristol.

The Ministry Healer was now a stern-faced woman of around forty, who was currently studying him carefully. He looked at her in return, and couldn't help hearing what she was thinking, Spoilt, probably, probably had too much attention paid to him all his life. High-strung, maybe, but he won't catch me fussing over him!

Harry was delighted, and surprised her by giving her a wide smile, a glint of humour in his eyes. He thought she was dead right, there had always been too much attention paid to him. And he could certainly do without the fussing that Therese and Jodie had subjected him to - even Hermione, who seemed still to think that his health hung on a knife edge. Catherine Rutherford was her name - Harry thought she'd do fine.

Sarah Creevey was to coordinate again, although not to travel with them, and Emil said there were to be always four aurors. Harry tried objecting to that, no-one had tried to kill him for years, he said. That it might be handy to have a couple when he worked, but there was no need for bodyguards afterwards.

Emil just said smoothly that it was not to be risked, that he was too valuable to go unprotected. And Harry knew that the motive was to have him watched as much as it was to have him protected, and reminded himself to check for location devices before leaving when he wished to have his privacy. They'd done it to him before, but only when he was in precarious health and they thought it justified.

It was agreed that they should start the week after next, and Sarah said probably Germany - they were always nagging for a visit.

Harry rose, stretching, and casually stated that their problems served them right - they should outlaw duelling.

Emil frowned his displeasure. Duelling was an honourable tradition! But the meeting was breaking up now, Catherine only stating firmly to Harry that he was to go with her right now to have a preliminary examination.

Harry looked at her and said gently, "Not today, Catherine, I have an appointment."

His next act was to go and see Therese and Jodie, and was very pleased to discover that they had left virtually no information on his abnormalities for the Ministry to stew over.

He reported back to Catherine a few days later for the examination she demanded. She was brisk, no-nonsense, and quick. She only had him strip to the waist, checked him over without fuss, noted down his weight, and the Nisco readings, and asked him about residual problems from his illness of a few years previously.

Harry was matter-of-fact. He had poor balance, so carried a cane, he lacked fine coordination in the fingers so that his writing was almost illegible, and he also had attacks of trembling every now and then, for no particular reason. Otherwise, he was fine.

He didn't mention that he could not apparate to coordinates, as he thought that the Ministry might want to take away his apparation license if they knew he'd lost that basic skill. He also very quietly treated her Nisco, so that it would give a maximum of 105, as he had done to the monitors of Therese and Jodie before her. Harry still liked to pretend he was a normal man, and an LV reading of 294, when normal was 100, was an obvious indicator that he was not a normal man. There were other indicators, that showed sometimes on other types of monitors, but they were not used as routinely as the Nisco, and he'd never worried about them.

He still did an hour's meditation every morning as a preventative measure against the 'nervous attacks' he had suffered from at one stage, as he rather suspected that under the right circumstances they could again become a problem. There had been no indications of those type of problems for years, but the hour in the morning had become a routine, as much as his morning shower.

There were other preparations for the trips. Jebedee had happened to join Emil one lunch time, and had casually spoken about Harry. Emil would not have asked for advice, but he took notice of Jebedee - that Harry was easier to manage when accompanied by his friends, especially Anthony, and that he had to expect that sometimes Harry would be up in the middle of the night, wanting to go for long walks. That sometimes he would make himself very tired when working, even collapsing a few times in the past, and having to be taken back to the hotel. That he reacted very badly if the aurors tried to tell him what he could or could not do, and that he was likely to shamelessly boycott official functions, even those in his honour, unless they contrived to have present some intellectuals and researchers in whom he was interested.

***chapter end***