Warnings: Slash, Mpreg, Dumbledore bashing, and a few Weasley bashing.

I do not own Harry Potter.

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"Potter we need you-"

"Harry, can you do this-"

"Mr Potter, you have to set an example. You have a responsibility to the public-"

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Harry sighed in frustration and used magic to slam his office door closed and lock it. He slid down in his chair and buried his face in his hands.

Right after turning eighteen and taking his NEWTS after months of private study, Harry was pressed into auror training with Ron and a relationship with Ginny. Now, with him just about to turn nineteen, Ginny was two weeks away from graduating and was definitely planning on moving in with him the day she got out of school.

The only problem was Harry wasn't sure this was what he wanted.

The only things Harry dealt with anymore was the demanding public, an overbearing boss, fighting with Ginny when he went to visit and when he didn't, and best friends that really weren't acting like best friends anymore. He hardly ever saw Hermione or Ron, despite the fact that they worked in the same building, him and Ron on the same floor.

An owl tapped on his window, and Harry gave a groan of horror. He didn't want to deal with a suspected former death eater that needed arresting, or a suspicion that a new dark lord was rising, or anything. He wanted to tell everyone who wanted a chunk of him to suck it up and deal with it on their own.

Maybe Malfoy had it right when he disappeared.

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Throwing his keys on the table, Harry went let in the flock of owls waiting outside his window. He checked through them. One from Ron, telling him about the promotion he was due for. Another from Hermione, telling him to go see Ginny this weekend to go shopping for corresponding outfits in Hogsmeade for her graduation. One from Molly Weasley, asking if Ginny was moving in with him and asking when he was going to propose.

And one from Ginny.

Hey Harry.

When are you coming to Hogsmeade this weekend? Don't make it too late; I want plenty of time to shop. We need perfect outfits to wear for my graduation. Of course, I don't get to wear mine until after I take that dreadful graduation gown. Seriously, who ever thought bright purple was a good colour on anybody?

I expect you're doing what your boss wants, and that the apartment is ready for me to move into. Mother keeps badgering me about that. Why haven't you told her that it's for sure yet? Makes her annoying, when she's worrying like that.

I'm serious Harry; I don't want to come home to some dirty little apartment. We should buy a house soon. I want to have kids you know. Mum was eighteen when she had Bill.

I had better see you soon Harry!

-Ginny

Sighing, Harry dropped the letter onto the table and went into the bedroom, where he changed from his work clothes and into a loose pair of jeans and a black t-shirt.

Looking into his fridge, Harry decided he didn't want to cook and went to grab something from the diner two blocks away. He waited patiently for his turkey sandwich that he had ordered to go and leaned against the counted, watching the traffic go by outside.

He had thought it would be different, once he defeated Voldemort. He had actually thought he'd be free.

The waitress handed him the white carton of food and he slid a note into her hand, murmuring for her to keep the change. Leaving, Harry walked back into his apartment and dropped the food on the coffee table in front of his couch. He slumped onto the worn leather piece of furniture and just laid there, arm covering his eyes.

Harry knew he wasn't going to be able to handle the demand that he had been dealing with since he was eleven years old for much longer. He was miserable, and he was sick of hiding it behind a cheerful, helpful attitude that no one realized was completely fake.

So, he decided, he was going to leave.

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Ginny, Hermione, Ron. Whoever the fuck else is going to read this.

I'm leaving. I'm sick of your expectations, your demands, and the fact that you ignore me any other time than when you want something from me.

I'm asking you, don't try and find me. I don't want to be found. If I did, than I wouldn't be leaving in the first place.

Live your life, and let me live mine.

Harry.

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Harry Potter, Gone!

A Rita Skeeter article.

It was discovered, yesterday, that Harry Potter has left. He had not shown up for work for days, and a concerned co worker dropped in to find his apartment unlocked and a note on the table, saying that Potter was leaving and for no one to try and find him. All personal touches to the apartment were gone, leaving an empty furnished apartment

Potter's friends claimed to have had no idea that the Boy Wonder was leaving. They were as surprised as anyone else when they read the note, which claimed that Potter was sick of the wizarding world and its expectations.

So the Boy Who Lived has skived off and left his duties behind, along with a heart broken girlfriend and confused friends. Just where has Potter gone, and was it really for the reasons he gave in his note?

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There were only a few people who Harry told he was leaving. And, surprisingly enough, most of them came with him.

He told Hagrid, who, despite the fact that he was very upset about Harry leaving, decided to stay at Hogwarts, as he was able to live there without sticking out horribly. Hogwarts was his home.

Neville and Luna, who had moved in together, came with him, as did Blaise Zabini, whom Harry had become friends with months ago.

They went to Canada, and decided to live together in a large house which offered privacy for them all. They debated for a while, and ended up buying a mansion by pooling together their resources. Because they had all inherited very large fortunes, the almost seven million dollars each barely made a mark.

It was a gorgeous house, sweeping terraces leading to a broad lake. The house itself had nine bedrooms, and 9 full baths and five half, along with a pool, dining room, kitchen, den, reception room, a second professional kitchen, a garage, library, office, billiard room and maid's room. All of the bedrooms had balconies and Blaise, Harry and Luna and Neville all took rooms with attached baths. Luna and Neville also claimed another room for their child on the way. (1)

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Luna's child was now a month old, and Blaise was living in Harry's suite instead of his previous one. They had moved in together after Luna and Neville got them drunk and forced them to admit their feelings for each other.

They were both godfathers for baby Michel, and Draco Malfoy had moved into Blaise's old suite after the black boy managed to track his friend down. The blonde had been shocked to see them, but they had practically kidnapped him, informed him what had happened, and told him in no uncertain terms where he would be living from then on. Draco hadn't minded.

Harry actually worked as a dancer, having discovered a liking for the habit a few months back. He was a background dancer for music videos, using a blonde haired, blue eyed glamour and false name. His popularity had spread quickly, and he had actually been in videos for U2, Brittney Spears, and Justin Timberlake. (2)

Blaise was a writer, having published several short stories under a false name. Luna had drifted from job to job for a few months, until she had Michel and decided to take a year off while looking after the baby. Neville worked in a local magical nursery and adored his job, often coming home covered in dirt and scratches, which Luna would absent-mindedly heal. Draco worked as an interior designer, and was becoming popular fast.

The only person from England they corresponded with was Hagrid, and that was only rarely, as it was a long distance for owls. They were very, very happy.

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"Blaise, I must speak with you." Harry said solemnly, but there was a sparkle in his eye that spoke of happiness. The group was spread out in the pool area when Harry entered. Neville and Draco were trying to dunk each other in the deeper end, while Luna was splashing with six month old Michel in the shallow end. Blaise was lounging in a patch of sun coming through the glass roof on a lawn chair.

The black boy raised an eyebrow and followed his boyfriend into the sitting room, where Harry sat on cross legged on the couch and patted for Blaise to sit next to him. "What's up, Har?"

Harry gave him a hesitant smile. "You know how..." He blew his fringe out of his eyes. "Screw this." He looked at his boyfriend. "I'm pregnant."

Blaise's mouth dropped open for a moment before he gave a whoop of joy and stood, pulling Harry into a hug before twirling him around in a circle. The others, brought in by the noise, entered the room. "What's going on in here?" Draco asked suspiciously.

Harry looked at Blaise, smiled, and asked, "Draco, how would you like to be godfather, along with Neville? And we're hoping Luna would be willing to be godmother."

They all stared for a moment before it clicked in. Then they were yelling with happiness as well. Male pregnancies were rare, but Blaise and Harry knew that with the level of power they both had, it was likely for them, and had already decided about this. They all hugged both Harry and his lover, grinning like fools.

"How far along are you, Harry?" Neville asked, eyes shining with excitement.

"Two months. I got a test when the dizziness and slight sickness started. I guess I just knew." Blaise kissed his temple, still grinning.

Luna gave a gentle smile. "Congratulations. We always knew it would happen. You are, after all, Harry Potter."

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"Blaise fucking Zabini, you are never coming near me again!" Harry roared. Blaise winced as Harry gave another agonized cry.

"I know baby, I'm sorry. Come on, the healer can see the baby's head. Only a few minutes more now." Blaise squeezed his husband's hand, sighing in relief when Harry slumped back on the pillows.

Three more pushes and their healthy daughter, Lily Mika Zabini was born at 7 pounds five ounces. It was 5:30 PM on December the second.

Blaise smiled as the small red faced bundle was placed in his arms. He perched on the edge of Harry's bed and they both cooed over their daughter, lost in their own world.

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Harry flopped onto the couch beside Blaise and smiled as his daughter crawled into his lap. She was seven months old and growing up fast. "You'd never guess who the choreographer for the video I'm in is." Harry muttered, lifting Lily into the air above his head so that she seemed to be flying.

"Hermione Granger." Blaise said jokingly.

Raising an eyebrow at him, his husband said, "You must have a sixth sense or something. Because that was scary."

Blaise whipped around to look at Harry fully. "Hermione Granger is choreographing the video you're in?" He asked loudly.

Lily bunched up her face at the loud voice and Harry swung her back into the air, stopping the cry that was about to come in its track. "Yes Blaise darling. Hermione is working on the video. I didn't even know she had left the ministry, but then again I try and avoid subjects like that."

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"I know where Harry is." Hermione told Dumbledore. (3)

The old man looked up in shock. "How?"

"He's one of the background dancers in the video I'm working on. He wears a glamour, but I can see through them for some reason, and besides that everyone was celebrating his birthday today at work, and we both know this is Harry's birthday."

"How does he look?" Dumbledore asked curiously. "Happy, miserable, depressed?"

Hermione sighed. "He looked- radiant. People at work love him, he has an adopted daughter and a husband, he's extremely rich, and he looks better than I've ever seen him." She stopped for a moment. "Then again, the daughter may not be adopted. Powerful men are able to have children, and he took a year off work just a while ago."

"Interesting..." Dumbledore murmured.

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Dumbledore knocked on the door at a time he knew Harry would be home. He waited patiently, and soon enough the young man answered the door. He was carrying a baby with chocolaty skin, black curly hair and dark green eyes. She looked up at him curiously, and Dumbledore thought she was the cutest thing he'd ever seen.

"Dumbledore?" Harry asked in a shocked whisper. "What – how- why – how did you find us?" He asked in an angry voice.

Dumbledore looked at the boy. He was slender and tall, with the smooth grace of the dancer he was. His hair was a little longer now, a little less ruffled, and he no longer wore glasses. The resemblance between him and the baby was there if you looked hard enough. "Hello Mr Potter. Do you mind if I step in?"

Harry glared. "Yes. Shockingly enough, I do mind. Didn't I say I didn't want to be found?"

"Harry, who is it?" A young man's voice asked. A black boy, whom Dumbledore guessed the voice belonged to, came around the corner. After a moment the old man realized it was Blaise Zabini, one of the Slytherins in Harry's year. This was bad. "Dumbledore? What the fuck? What the hell are you doing here? How the hell did you find us?"

The resemblance between him and the little girl was present as well, allowing Dumbledore to realize just who Harry's husband was. This was really bad. Harry was being corrupted by Slytherins. "Mr Zabini, I do not believe this is any of your business. I have here to speak with Mr Potter, alone." He began in frosty tones.

"The hell it isn't." The young man snarled. "Blaise is my husband. I am not Mr Potter, I am Mr Zabini, and have been for a year now. Anything you have to say to me can be said in front of him."

"Listen, Mr Potter – Zabini-" He fixed when Harry's glare intensified. "You have no idea how much you're missed in England. People need you there. You have a responsibility-"

"This ended when I killed mouldy shorts. I owe no one there anything. You wanted everything from me, and gave me nothing in return. How long did you think I was going to be your pawn, old man?" He sneered. "I have a life here. A family. I'm happy, for the first time in my life. So that means I really would like it if you were to leave."

Anger blazed in those blue eyes. "Listen here, Potter."

Blaise snickered. "You sound like Professor Snape."

"Holy crap he does!" Harry laughed. "That's scary!"

Dumbledore was nonplussed. How dare they laugh at him? He sent a stunner at the boys, but a shield popped in front of them, and they both glared. "You think we don't have wards up, idiot old man? Anyone not keyed into the wards who tries to harm someone who is will be blocked." Blaise smiled coldly. "It's very effective. You are going to be rejected from the property in ten seconds, and will be unable to enter again unless we allow you to. Trust me; I wouldn't try to re-enter if I were you. It might be slightly painful."

Dumbledore suddenly found himself standing outside the gate, looking shocked.

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Harry set Lily down on the ground and leaned against the door, sighing. "That's not good. How many people do you think he's going to send to try and kidnap me?"

"Amelia Bones is the minister." Blaise said randomly. Harry's head snapped up at the implications.

"Do you think she'd take our side?" He asked quietly.

Smiling, his husband walked over and slid his arms around Harry's waist. "I'm positive."

With a nod, Harry found Luna, Neville and Draco and told them where they were headed. They decided to take Lily with them and flooed into the ministry. Harry kept his hood up so he wouldn't be recognized, and headed up to the floor where Amelia's office was.

He used his name to get them in and stood in front of her desk. "Potter!" She exclaimed, shocked. "Why in the world...?"

A gentle smile graced his features. "Congratulations on the job. We need your help."

"Of course." She nodded. "What can I do for you?"

"We need a magical restraining order for Dumbledore that keeps himself away from me, Blaise, our daughter, Draco Malfoy, Luna Longbottom, her husband Neville, and their son." He looked very serious. "Dumbledore seems to believe that I have a responsibility to wizarding Britain and that it's his job to make sure I fulfill that responsibility. I fear he will use force to make sure I do so, and in the process harm someone in my family."

After a few minutes conversation he showed her his memory of Dumbledore's visit, which motivated her to sign the contract. If Dumbledore tried to go near any of them, their residence, or the place where any of them worked he would be censored and arrested. Any letters they received letters from him they could bring them to the ministry and he would be arrested. Any person sent by him would be arrested, as would he.

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A loud knock on the door woke the residents of the manor. It had been five months since Dumbledore had come to take Harry away, and they hadn't heard from him since. Harry stood, grateful for the silencing charms on Lily's room. He was the first downstairs, despite the fact that he was four months pregnant again.

A bushy haired blur threw herself at Harry when he opened the door. He blinked sleepily down at the young woman in his arms. "Hermione?" He murmured. She looked up at him, and he was shocked to see her face. A large cut went down one side and her other eye was swollen.

He pulled her into his arms bridal style and carried her into one of the guest bedrooms, briefly acknowledging the fact that a very worried Ron was following them. Laying her on the bed and ignoring her protests, he healed the cut on her face and the shiner. Then in a rough voice he asked, "What the hell happened?"

"Dumbledore sent some thugs after me because I was sticking up for you to him. Ron heard about the attack and came to my apartment, but they were already there. We managed to floo out together, but it took me a bit to find out where you lived." She looked up at him, tears in her eyes, "This is the only place I could think of coming to..."

A spell gave him the proof to know that she wasn't lying, and he sat on the edge of the bed and pulled her into a gentle hug, rocking her back and forth. "He can't come here Hermione. It's okay, you're safe."

Within minutes she slumped in his arms, sleeping peacefully. He left Luna in there to change her into a sleep shirt and went out into the hall with the rest of the guys. They led Ron into the living room where they all collapsed with butter beers.

A few minutes of awkward silence prompted Neville, Blaise, and Draco to leave Ron and Harry alone. The red head looked at his once best friend. "Harry..." He said quietly. The black haired man looked at him. "I am so sorry! We were prats to you! I feel so guilty, the way we ignored you after the war was over. And then you left and it was like a slap in the face because we realized just how badly you had it, even after You-Know-Who was defeated..."

"Ron. Quiet." The redhead snapped his mouth shut. "I don't blame you. I did back then, but I know just how overwhelming it was after Voldemort was killed, and everyone was restarting their lives. I just had to get out. I needed a new life." He smiled. "You and Hermione are of course welcome to stay here if you want to."

Ron grinned. "Just in time for Christmas."

"My daughter turns one tomorrow as well." Harry told him.

The red head shook his head. "I can't believe you're married and have kids." He sighed. "Even after the kiss, Hermione and I knew we weren't going to work out. I'm pretty sure she loves someone else, though she's never showed any implications towards anyone."

Harry gave him a gentle smile. "No worries Ron. You'll find your girl." He stood and stretched, causing his shirt to strain against his slight bump.

"Blimey mate." Ron whispered. "Are you-?" He stared at Harry's stomach.

The black haired man nodded. "Four months."

Ron stared up at him, awe in his eyes. "Wow. I mean, I knew it could happen, but I never thought I'd see it."

"I didn't even know that you could, until Blaise told me. It took some time to wrap my head around it."

He led Ron to a guest room, handed him a spare pair of pyjamas, and then went back to lay down with Blaise again.

"You okay?" Blaise asked worriedly.

Harry gave him a peck on the lips. "Never been better."

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Harry was lounging in bed, waiting for Blaise to get out of the bathroom, when the morning sickness hit. He jolted out of the room and into a spare bath, barely making it to the loo before he was retching.

A few moments later gentle hands pulled his hair from his face. He dry heaved a few more times before sitting back, panting. He looked up into Hermione's concerned face.

"Are you alright? What's wrong? Are you sick?"

He shook his head and went back to heaving for a moment. After accepting a glass of cool water from his friend he murmured in a hoarse voice, "Morning sickness."

The witch stared at him for a few moments before she clued in. "Oh Harry!" She cried, pulling him into a very gentle hug. "Congratulations!"

A radiant smile was directed at her. Harry waited a few more minutes before deciding the sickness was over and carefully standing. He sighed in relief when his stomach stayed calm.

Blaise was just coming out of the bathroom when Harry re-entered the bedroom. His hair was damp, and he only wore a pair of low rise dark jeans.

One look at Harry's pale face and he was standing next to his husband. "What happened?" He demanded.

The other black haired man smiled ruefully. "Morning sickness babe. I'm fine." He grimaced. "Or I will be once I take a shower and brush my teeth."

Blaise chuckled, relieved. "You go do that, and I'll get breakfast started for our guests."

Harry took a shower and dressed in a pair of casual black pants and a long sleeved green shirt. He entered the kitchen and scooped up his daughter from her high chair. "Happy birthday Lils!" He grinned.

She squealed and gave him a hug before he put her down to eat her breakfast. Harry took over breakfast from his husband, as Blaise really didn't like to cook that much. Quickly he had almost two dozen eggs scrambled, a pound of bacon fried, and a loaf of bread toasted. He set it all out with hash browns, orange juice, and milk.

"This looks great Harry," everyone murmured. He grinned, bowed, and sat down to eat.

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Harry and Blaise's new baby was now seven months old. The little boy, named James Sirius, had Harry's paler skin tone and straight hair, with Blaise's dark eyes. He was a calmer baby than his sister, but just as curious as she still was.

Lily had just turned two, and they were now again preparing for Christmas. Ron and Hermione still lived there with them, though Ron lived in a guest house on the grounds near the lake, and Hermione lived with Draco. The young woman was now two months pregnant.

Ron was dating a French witch a few years younger than him, and currently worked at a broomstick manufacturing store. He seemed to adore his job. Hermione worked at a local bookshop, much to the amusement of everybody else.

There had been a few events where Dumbledore tried to confront them, or send someone after them, but the old man had finally taken the threat of having his magic contained to heart. They hadn't heard from him in months.

Harry looked down at the little girl clutching his knee and grinning up at him as she told him of her day with Blaise. He glanced at his husband, who was standing there, smiling in amusement as he held their sleeping son.

It was a good life, and Harry didn't regret a thing.

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Wow. It's over. I can't believe this. I actually started writing this a year ago, but I couldn't come up with a good ending.

Now I'm going to be brave, and post it.

This is an actual house in Montreal. I found it while I was looking at places in boredom one day, and thought it was perfect. (I have expensive tastes. No one else in my family would want to live in a house like that. *Shrugs*)

I truly have no idea what kind of music played in the early 2000's, as I'm only fifteen, so these are just guesses. I have no idea even if they had back up dancers in their videos.

Yes, Dumbles is alive. Don't ask me how. I just needed him alive for my plot to work.