Prologue
.
To say that he was shocked was a rather large understatement.
The Boy Who Lived had completed his schooling at Hogwarts and then done a year's training in Dark Arts and Defence under the tutelage of Professor Snape, and then he had disappeared for five years.
Now there he stood, aged twenty-three (almost twenty-four), with a small child at his side holding his hand outside Quality Quidditch Supplies, taking in information on the newest broom.
It is definitely Harry Potter, thought the assistant at the counter, watching the man through the window. Yes, there was the black, messy hair and the perfect seeker stance and the green eyes and the scar.
He watched as the small child pulled on the saviour's sleeve and the young man bent down and listened while the child spoke. He smiled, hugged the child, said something to make the child giggle and then lifted him onto his hip and carried him away.
The assistant shrugged and decided that although that wasn't the sort of thing that happened every day, he wasn't going to be one of those people who rushed to tell every one that they had met the Boy Who Lived, even if the Boy Who Lived had appeared to have a son when he saw him.
A month later the Daily Prophet announced that the Boy Who Lived was back and next in line for the Defence Against the Dark Arts post at Hogwarts. They also announced that he would be living in the castle with his adopted four-year-old son, Tristan, but that as far as they knew there was no mother in sight.
::TBC::
.
To say that he was shocked was a rather large understatement.
The Boy Who Lived had completed his schooling at Hogwarts and then done a year's training in Dark Arts and Defence under the tutelage of Professor Snape, and then he had disappeared for five years.
Now there he stood, aged twenty-three (almost twenty-four), with a small child at his side holding his hand outside Quality Quidditch Supplies, taking in information on the newest broom.
It is definitely Harry Potter, thought the assistant at the counter, watching the man through the window. Yes, there was the black, messy hair and the perfect seeker stance and the green eyes and the scar.
He watched as the small child pulled on the saviour's sleeve and the young man bent down and listened while the child spoke. He smiled, hugged the child, said something to make the child giggle and then lifted him onto his hip and carried him away.
The assistant shrugged and decided that although that wasn't the sort of thing that happened every day, he wasn't going to be one of those people who rushed to tell every one that they had met the Boy Who Lived, even if the Boy Who Lived had appeared to have a son when he saw him.
A month later the Daily Prophet announced that the Boy Who Lived was back and next in line for the Defence Against the Dark Arts post at Hogwarts. They also announced that he would be living in the castle with his adopted four-year-old son, Tristan, but that as far as they knew there was no mother in sight.
::TBC::