Disclaimer: J. K .Rowling owns Harry Potter and his world.

Notes for the convenience of the reader: Harry's children: Margaret, Victoria and James, children of Ginny, Beth, daughter of Luna, and Adrian, son of Harry and raised by Julie and himself. Current wife, Julie.

Chapter 9:

Bellamy didn't contact his home for nearly three years. After several months, a rumour spread that he was in Morocco, and living in a palace with three concubines. It might have been true, or partly true, as some very exotic looking boxes were found one day, suddenly there in the store-room. Word quickly spread among his staff. He was alive then. Simon and Naomi could say that he wasn't drawing on funds, and was presumably supporting himself some other way. Investigations by the Ministry, however, failed to discover his whereabouts.

Two and a half years after his flight, Chrissy browsed in an ordinary bookstore, looking at the children's books. She wanted a birthday gift for Rodney Pickering, next door, who would soon be nine. There was one had a picture of a horse on it, a little skewbald mare, with a foal at foot. She remembered a horse that looked just like that, and she picked up the book. With a leap of excitement, she saw the author's name, Henry Bellamy. And surely the mare was Mischief, long dead now, of course. She quizzed the owner of the bookshop, a true enthusiast, who could tell her that the book was originally published in Canada, was being translated for Germany, Italy and France, and was already in its fourth reprint in English.

"A Classic," he said. "It seems so simple, almost repetitive. Children love it, and not just children." And he repeated, "A Classic."

The bookshop had eight copies. Chrissy bought eight copies.

Supposedly about the wild horses of Canada, it was indeed repetitive. The birth of a foal, a simple life, maturity and reproduction, and then decline and death. Again and again, with minor variations, the stories overlapping. Its simplicity was deceptive. The book had a very deep appeal. It conveyed truth. There were some very beautiful illustrations, too, featuring Bellamy's own horses, the foals, the wild young colts as they played, the beauty of a mare and her foal, and the old ones too, looking out at the reader with a deep wisdom in their eyes. They thought he must have used his magic to put his memories on paper. They could not be photos, and they were not paintings.

Bellamy had written it for himself. It was to do with life and death. It had helped him come to a greater acceptance of his own longevity, and the fact that he would see people he loved, grow old and die.

Three months after Chrissy's discovery of the book, Bellamy appeared in the Apparation Zone of his own home, was greeted by a few cross-bred dogs, who threw themselves at him, and then strolled to the Old Horses' Paddock, to talk to more friends. They were all pets. He knew them all, and they knew him. Clare had her easel set up close by, and only waved vaguely, not wanting to be interrupted. The boss was back. Her husband would be pleased.

Bellamy was surprised. Where was everyone? The apparation zone was supposed to be watched, although now he came to think of it, except for the Wileys, there were no security guards left. Astron had left years ago. But the spells and enchantments that protected the secrecy of Bellamy's home were still effective, in spite of the large numbers who now knew how to find it. And with the absence of the boss, vigilance appeared unnecessary. Except for Clare, everyone, even Caradoc who didn't like crowds, were at the big Easter horse show, cheering for Simon and Connor. The Pickerings were showing off some young horses, too.

Bellamy could feel for the presence of those he knew. It seemed that except for Clare, the place was deserted. Even the last of the house-elves were no longer in the basement where they had lived for generations. So he made friends with a couple of ponies who were new, and talked to some young, unbroken horses. A skewbald mare jumped a fence and greeted him, and from then on, followed at his heels as he strolled his estate.

Bellamy felt himself a bit hard done by when he had to rummage through the kitchen and make lunch for himself. He wasn't accustomed to such hardship.

Afterward, he left the butter out, crumbs all over the table, a spill on the floor, and checked out Chrissy's office. Chrissy did most of his correspondence. There was no mail obligingly left out for him, though. Again he wandered off, and found what he'd been looking for, a general invitation pinned on the notice board in the staff dining room. The annual Ministry Ball had been held Easter Saturday for hundreds of years. Bellamy thought it was as good a way as any to announce his return. He'd just wanted to check that they'd made no changes to the venue or the time.

By the time a dozen people returned, tired but triumphant from the horse show, he was sound asleep in a chair in his loungeroom. He'd been in a very different time zone that morning before he suddenly knew it was time to return.

Tracy and Klaus had a brief but fiery quarrel in the kitchen, each blaming the other for the mess, before their daughter, Lillian, interrupted them. "The boss is back! Clare told me."

Klaus looked again at the mess, grunted, and looked in the direction of the private quarters of the house. Tracy was smiling all over her face. If the boss made the mess, it was OK. The boss could get away with pretty well anything, as far as Tracy was concerned. And she hustled her husband. There must be an extra good dinner made for him, although only a scratch meal had been planned for themselves and the few others they catered for.

Half an hour later, dinner was laid for Bellamy in the private dining room, as he came out rubbing his eyes. Tracy and Lillian were both fussing around. Lillian had even brought in flowers from the garden. And when they saw him there, blinking at them, still wearing shabby jeans and faded shirt, he found himself with a double armful of staff. All his workers were fond of the boss, even grumbling Klaus.

After dinner, he greeted the rest of his staff, especially feeble-minded Will, tearful at his return. Simon wanted to tell him about a particularly promising young mare. Simon's son Archie, was home for the Easter break, and greeted the boss a little shyly. Chris and Chrissy were treating him as a long lost son. Even Caradoc put in an appearance, although Clare hadn't got around to mentioning the return to him until they were preparing for bed.

Lillian eventually rose, saying she had to get ready, she was going to the ball. Bellamy was reminded, and rose also, although they were surprised that he was intending to go. Mostly he had to be dragged to such occasions. But he only said that he might not get into so much trouble over his abrupt departure if he made his reappearance at a social occasion. And he reddened slightly. "I was supposed to be going to Switzerland, and I went to Tangier instead."

He slipped on the first set of dress robes that presented themselves to his hand. Chosen by Julie, they were midnight blue, expensive velvet, embroidered with black, navy, and bright green thread. "It's the colour of your eyes," she'd said fondly, as she stroked the green thread. Julie would probably be there, he knew. She said that it was a social obligation to appear at the Ministry Ball.

There were a couple of aurors on duty at the Ball, a precaution to prevent trouble. Sometimes, young wizards became a little over-impressed with their own power, and had to be reminded that Wizardkind was supposed to be civilised. There were always a lot of off duty aurors there too, of course. Ricky was one of those on duty, and gaped as Bellamy was suddenly there, and called for backup. Bellamy casually joined him. Already people were turning and pointing, although none approached him yet.

"Franz still the boss?" he asked Ricky, after greeting him.

Three more aurors, two in uniform, had already joined them, and it was Manfred answered the question. "No, I am."

Bellamy turned to him. "Whoops! I'll have to behave myself now!"

Manfred smiled, a hint of triumph in the smile, "No more brawling in the corridors, that's for sure!"

Bellamy was instantly tempted to challenge him. Manfred recognised the gleam in his eye, and said quickly, "Oh, no. I'm too old for that now."

"Shame," replied Bellamy, "It was the best fight I'd had in years." And he quizzed them about other changes at the Ministry.

"Kate's Minister, now," Ricky told him, pointing to where she stood.

"I thought she'd manage it," said Bellamy, and headed toward her.

Kate gave him a warm hug, and rebuked him for leaving without warning. "The Swiss were very upset!" Bellamy apologised, and Kate said sternly that he'd have to go there first trip, and attend a formal gathering to make up.

"Do I have to?" asked Bellamy.

"Yes," said Kate, who may have been forty, but was as beautiful as ever.

Bellamy agreed, "But only because I let them down, absolutely no-one else."

Kate smiled. She thought he'd do exactly what she told him, the same as any other man and nearly any woman.

Julie and Mervyn knew by now that he was present, and Julie was prepared when he went to greet them. Bellamy only knew Mervyn slightly, but was very cordial. Julie looked so much more contented. She was quite a lot more plump, her hair was grey, and the anxious lines on her face had been replaced by happier ones. Julie now gave Mervyn a subtle hint, and he moved off, leaving Bellamy with Julie.

Julie scolded him. "You just don't know how to dress, do you, Harry?" And she patted the collars of his robes into a more graceful arrangement, and even briefly stroked his hair. His expression suddenly changed to a look of desire, but she smacked his raised hand and told him, "Don't!" He looked down, and apologised. But Julie was pleased. It was not that she wanted to do anything about it, but it was so nice to be still wanted by this young and attractive man. Her girlfriends were watching, and Julie preened herself as she returned to Merv.

Bellamy was looking cool, expressionless. Close by, with a group of young friends, there was a beautiful girl. Her hair was bright blonde, her complexion flawless, and her figure the envy of her girlfriends. She'd recently won a beauty queen pageant, although wizardry usually scorned such nonsense. Celia thought she could have any man she chose, and now she turned to her best friend, and said confidently, "Just watch!"

Bellamy raised a glass to his lips, as he looked around. He should see Vernon if he was there, and mention to him that he was again available for the spell-breaking. Approaching very close, and in a husky voice that was intended to be sexy, the girl said, "Hello, my name's Celia." Her eyes conveyed a warm invitation.

Bellamy nodded at Miss Great Britain with the most profound indifference, and strolled over to Vernon whom he'd just spotted. Celia froze, spots of fury in her cheeks. Julie smiled in delight. Celia's girlfriends were almost equally delighted, but thought they'd best not show it. Another there was highly pleased. She must be one of the very few witches, aside from his wives, who had shared his bed. She still boasted sometimes, although it was a long time ago.

Another attractive girl approached as Bellamy and Vernon talked together, a tray of sandwiches in hand. They accepted with thanks. Bellamy started to take a bite, then stopped. His enemies had been quick off the mark, and he swiftly took the sandwich from Vernon. "Spit it out!" he said urgently, as Vernon chewed. Vernon looked at him in puzzlement, but neatly deposited the mouthful in a serviette.

Bellamy relaxed. It was only another attempted poisoning, and he raised an eyebrow at Manfred, who listened to what he had to say. Bellamy took it for granted that people would try and kill him. Vernon seemed fine, not actually convinced that they'd been anything to worry about. Bellamy had a reputation for being paranoid. Bellamy only assured him that his own sandwich had been poisoned, whether or not Vernon's was. He didn't know how he knew, but he nearly always had.

For the next hour, he circulated, talking to family, talking to friends, talking to the aurors, who were also, most of them, friends. Lillian, he saw, was standing very close to a redhead whom he didn't recognise. Maybe it was a Weasley.

Preparations were being made. There was always a bit of ceremonial and speeches at this event. Bellamy loathed speeches, and took it as a signal that it was time to leave. He'd done what he came to do, and didn't seem to be in too much trouble about his absence.

**HP***

Sunday morning, Simon asked him if he'd like to join him for a long ride on the moors. Bellamy smiled with pleasure at the prospect, and Simon went to beg a picnic lunch. It was a dampish looking morning, but weak sunshine was winning. They rode a long way, Bellamy on his skewbald, Simon on a restive young colt.

They finally halted at a high cliff-top that overlooked a rough sea far below. It was only as they finished the generous picnic that Klaus had prepared, that Simon started talking about his brother, Beau. Beau had left years before, when Bellamy had refused to allow his fiancée onto the property because he deemed her untrustworthy. Beau had been furious at the insult to the woman he loved, and Bellamy hadn't seen him since.

The marriage only lasted three years. There were no children. Beau began to drink more and more heavily, and finally crashed his car, luckily not hurting anyone else. His legs and pelvis were badly broken, and since he was out of touch at the time, he was treated in an ordinary hospital. He was walking again now, Simon thought, but he hadn't heard from him in years, and didn't know where he was. "I think he's drinking again," he finished sadly.

Simon rose suddenly, going to the edge of the cliff, and looking over. Simon and Beau were little more than a year apart in age, and had been close.

Bellamy packed away the picnic, vanishing the rubbish. Then he conjured a couple of buckets, and a complex little spell filled them with water. He'd only learned to do that in the last couple of years. It was valuable magic in the desert countries. The horses drank, and then Simon's horse snorted at him, so that he had to wipe his face, rebuking the horse. The horse, he thought, was laughing at him.

Bellamy went back to his place, sitting, and waited for Simon.

Simon returned, but stayed standing. "Mum said she was a heroin addict when you found her and brought her back."

Bellamy said calmly, "I'm surprised she told you." Chrissy had been a London prostitute when he met her.

"Do you think..." Simon stopped, and then got it out in a rush. "Can you find Beau and bring him back?"

Bellamy was matter-of-fact. "I can find him and bring him back if he wants to come back. I can even cure the physical addiction to alcohol, but I won't interfere in his mind. If he chooses to be an alcoholic, I can't stop him."

"You cured Mum," said Simon.

"Your mother is a very strong willed lady. I may have given her the start, but she cured herself."

When they arrived home, it was mid afternoon. Simon pointed out the cottage he wanted Beau to have, if he could be brought home. Harry went inside. It was a little dusty, but otherwise ready for occupation. So he said, "Clean it up, make the bed, and I'll see if he wants to come."

Simon smiled, but he was nervous, too. Having an uncontrollable drunk on the place would be a real security risk. Bellamy might be doing himself a considerable disservice by bringing Beau home.

Beau had a dingy flat in Glasgow. It was on the ground floor, which made it easier for him with his walking sticks. Bellamy had no trouble finding him. Beau had grown up on his property, and he knew the feel of his mind.

Beau stared at the man on his doorstep. It was like a ghost from his childhood. Dazed, he stepped back from the doorway in a mute invitation for Bellamy to come in. They talked a long while. There was no new girlfriend, and while Beau was working, it was at a soul destroying job. He was a cold canvasser, ringing people at inconvenient times, and often being the recipient of the abuse that really belonged to his employer. He no longer drank, and even admitted that his marriage was a mistake. He asked about Julie, and discerned the sadness that Bellamy thought he concealed, as he was told that Julie had left him.

"I need extra help," finally said Bellamy. "I wanted someone trustworthy, as the reward for my death is now astronomical. I couldn't hire just anyone or I might find myself with my throat cut," he said in a matter-of-fact tone. But the simple words he ended with, were what sealed the deal. "Will you come home?"

Beau swallowed. He very much wanted to come home. He nodded, wordlessly.

Bellamy looked around. "How much time do you want to organise yourself? I can send your things back with magic, and then I can apparate with you."

Beau croaked, and then tried again. "Tomorrow. I can organise everything, and come home tomorrow."

Bellamy smiled. "It'll be a relief. I like to have people I know and trust around me."

Beau had already come a long way on the road to recovery after his wife had nearly destroyed him. But his pride had taken a terrible beating since the happier days of his youth. Being wanted and needed was very precious to him.

"Do you mind if I sleep here overnight?" Bellamy now asked. He didn't want Beau having second thoughts, maybe starting to worry because he was no longer the athletic young man that he'd been once.

"Of course," said Beau. His voice was coming easier now.

Bellamy rose. "I'll come back in about two hours then, and we'll find someplace to eat."

Beau looked after him as he left. The Boss had come for him. He started to cry.

Bellamy walked the streets of Glasgow for a while. It was a grey day, and Beau didn't live in a nice area. He wondered if he should have looked for Beau a long time before. But he suspected that he would not have wanted to come back before. When it was time, he turned back. Beau was cheerful good company at dinner at a nearby pub.

At home, Simon was very pleased indeed, if apprehensive, when he checked again the little house assigned to Beau. In the second bedroom, boxes and books were appearing. Beau was coming home. When Bellamy and Beau appeared in the apparation zone, Beau's parents, Chris and Chrissy, his brother Simon, and an unknown nephew waited.

Fifteen year old Archie stared at the emotion displayed by his grandparents, and decided that he wanted to explore a hayshed where a feral cat had taken up residence. He suspected there were kittens. Archie disapproved. Men were not supposed to cry. Even the boss looked to be crying.