Harry
What did you think I'd say to that?
Does a scorpion sting when fighting back?
Saturday, August 31st 1989
Harry was fuming with anger, and yet he still didn’t slam the door. He was furious, yes — he wanted to scream, kick or punch something — but he knew whatever issue he had was not any of the guests’ fault, so he wouldn’t ruin their night. But his mum’s, yes, he was glad he had ruined it. He had wrecked one dinner, but she had lied to him her entire life.
There was a knock on the door.
"Go away!" he said.
"Harry, please", he heard her voice.
"I don’t want to talk!"
"Please! Please, Harry, let me come in."
He groaned, wiping the tears from his eyes. He hated how he would cry when he got angry; it made him feel weak and helpless.
"Harry?"
He sniffed, trying to straighten up. "Come in."
The door creaked open, slowly, and he saw his mum’s face peeking in. She walked inside and shut the door behind her, standing awkwardly. He noticed she also had big, glistening eyes.
"Hi, honey", she whispered.
He crossed his arms, looking away. She rarely cried in front of him, and it was always disturbing to see her so vulnerable. She was his mum, after all. She was an adult. She was supposed to know everything and always have control.
He already felt his walls collapsing.
"Please talk to me, Harry."
"I don’t have anything to talk about."
"Yes, you do, honey. Tell me what’s happening."
He felt her reaching for his hand, and he yanked it away immediately.
It all exploded out of him. "Why didn’t you tell me?" he yelled. "Why did you never tell me about any of this? About magic, about Hogwarts, about… my father. Why did you lie?"
She fell to her knees, the tears running rapidly down her cheeks. "Harry, I… I…"
"I know one of them is my father."
Her face went white. "You… you know?"
It felt good to finally say it out loud. Harry only nodded once.
"How did you find out?" she asked.
He puffed his chest in defiance. "That day at Diagon Alley. I went to a Seer, and she gave me their names. She said one of them was my father. So I sent them letters inviting them to come here. I was the one who invited them."
She didn’t say anything for a while. Her eyebrows were furrowed, and she seemed to be thinking very hard. Harry was still trying to hold on to the feeling of grandeur, of pride for having shocked her that much, but it was fading very quickly. Instead, he started feeling ashamed. Why was he so keen on hurting her like that? Even though she had lied, he started feeling bad. It felt mean.
He waited for her to speak. He couldn’t read her expression, so he had no idea what she was thinking. Was she still stunned? Was she mad? Would she ground him? Forbid him of going to Hogwarts?
"Oh, Harry", she finally said, her eyes watering again. "I’m so sorry."
She hugged him, and he let her. Her not being angry only made everything worse. He could feel her shaking as she cried, and they held each other until their breaths steadied.
She pulled away, wiping her tears. "You’re right, honey, I should’ve told you. I should’ve told you so long ago, but I… I was scared, I suppose. I was embarrassed." She shook her head. "Regardless, you deserve to know. I’m sorry."
They sat back on the floor, facing each other. She grabbed his hand and stroked her thumb on his palm, as she did when they cuddled after a nightmare. He felt the tension soften in his shoulders, and his jaw wasn’t as tight. But the lingering question remained.
"Who is my father, then, mum?" he asked.
She eyed him for a long time, and he wondered if she was sizing what version of the story she was going to tell him. Then, she finally sighed, breathing deeply. "Harry", she called. "Do you know… how babies are made?"
He frowned. Of course he did. It had been in the curriculum that year; he remembered all those images on the reproduction cycle. Egg, sperm, zygote. He wasn’t top of his class, but he had gotten a good enough grade. "Yes", he answered.
She seemed to examine him thoroughly once more. At last, she nodded and continued, "Well, then. The thing is, Harry, I also don’t know. That’s why I never told you. But it could be either one of them: Remus, Sirius or… James."
His face fell. So there was no answer? Had this whole endeavour been for nothing? Either one of those three men could be his father, but also none of them really were. He was back to being fatherless.
"Of course, we could go after a test", she said. "There are medical exams that could tell us."
He considered that for a moment. He imagined each possible outcome: Remus, then Sirius, then James. But they all seemed weird to him, somehow. What would it even mean, for one of them to be his dad? They would never really be that, not exactly. They were all still strangers to him, even if they had gotten to know each other a bit during that weekend. The three men had spent the last two days trying to please him, talking to him and playing with him, and yet it didn’t feel like he had hoped. None of them could ever be his dad, that mythological hero from his dreams.
And maybe that was fine. He had already spent eleven years without a dad, and he’d been happy nonetheless. He had been content before Madame Warren came along and messed it all up.
"Harry?" his mum pleaded. "Please say something."
He struggled to find words — he didn’t even know what to think of it. "I… I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have made such a mess."
"No, sweetie, don’t apologise. It’s all my fault, I should’ve handled this better. I should’ve told you. You shouldn’t have had to seek a Seer, for Christ’s sake", she laughed nervously.
A tiny smile crawled to his lips. "She was kinda scary."
She smiled. "Oh, I bet she was! I have never dared to see one, and you did at eleven! It was so brave. I don’t want to jinx anything, but I think there’s a chance you might be a Gryffindor, too."
He shrugged, though he liked the comment. He did like the idea of being in a House which had a mighty lion as its symbol.
"Do you forgive me?" she whispered.
Harry nodded, and she pulled him back into a hug. This time, he threw his arms around her, clutching her tightly.
"Oh, my love", she murmured. "You’re everything in my life. I’m sorry for… for not even noticing you had all of this going on. It’s not the kind of burden a kid should be carrying."
They eventually pulled away.
"I love you so, so much", she said.
"Love you too."
She pulled him in again, locking him with her arms and kissing his head repeatedly. He’d normally fuss and try to escape, but this was his last night with her, and he knew he’d miss even her smothering him.
"Mum", he called, making her stop. He straightened up to face her again. "Why did you give up on being a witch?"
She blinked, surprised. She had given him a standard justification once, when his Hogwarts letter had arrived, telling him the wizarding world was too complicated and she’d rather have a quieter life. But he knew it wasn’t just that.
"Well", she began. "I became pregnant with you when I was still a few months away from graduating. And… it made me rethink everything. From then on, it wasn’t just about me, I had to think what was best for you. And I really believed that it would be best if you could grow up without all of that. I wanted you to grow up without magic, so that you could love a life without it. And I knew that, when the time came, you’d probably learn about it and be enthralled like I once was, but… You’d also know that you could be just as content without it.
"I’m not trying to dishearten you, Harry. I hope you are thrilled. Magic is wonderful, it really is. I just want you to trail your own path. When the time comes, you will have the choice of just how much magic you want in your life, if you want it at all."
He had been listening quietly, not sure he truly understood what she was saying. He thought of Mrs. Moore, he thought of all his school friends, of every guest who had ever told him some crazy story. He wondered how much he’d be able to appreciate them all had he known, all along, he was a wizard. Would he have looked down on them?
"Harry", she took his hand again. "You’re gonna love it. Hogwarts. You’ll have all kinds of adventures."
He looked up. "I will?"
"Oh, yeah. You’ll meet ghosts and talking paintings, you’ll brew the most potent potions and cast the most powerful spells. You’ll make friends that will become family. And you can practise quidditch everyday, if you want to."
He grinned immediately. "Really?"
"Really. In fact, did you finish packing?"
He made a face. "Haven’t finished exactly…"
"Harry Evans!" She got up, placing her hand on her hips. "Let’s get to work, now!"
He sighed, even if deep down he was glad they were back to normal. He had been so obsessed with escaping to Hogwarts and trying to find his father, he’d forgotten to notice how happy he’d always been. As he finally understood what it all meant, what he was leaving behind, the quest for a father seemed less and less meaningful. Sure, he’d probably still want to find out which one of those men was his actual dad, but he knew he’d be okay anyway. His mum would always be there.