Chapter 3
Harry came home late that afternoon to find Severus in a good mood. His potions work had gone well, even without Harry’s help, and he’d even managed to get out of the house and go for a walk by the shore before it got too hot. This was all to Harry’s advantage: Severus was more likely to be receptive to his request in this mood. Still, Harry waited until dinner before broaching the topic. Severus was always more approachable when he’d eaten something.
“I’m glad today went so well,” Harry started. He wondered if it was true that he had a British accent when he spoke to Severus. He still couldn’t tell the difference. “Sounds like you got a lot done.”
“Indeed I did.” Severus polished off the last of his roast chicken. “But I’ll want your help tomorrow. We have a batch of Veritaserum to prepare for that security outfit.”
Harry bit his lip. Another reason why he had his doubts about following in Severus’s footsteps: not all of his clients were as innocuous as shampoo companies wanting “chemical suites” for thicker, shinier hair. But he wanted to keep Severus in a good mood. “Of course,” he said. “I’m free all day tomorrow.”
“Good.” Severus gave a brisk nod. “I got all this month’s administration out of the way too. Mrs. Dursley returned the paperwork, fully signed.”
“Oh, yeah? How’s she doing?” Severus didn’t actually own the house on Mesquite Drive, but rented it from a woman back in England named Petunia Dursley. Harry gathered that Mrs. Dursley owed Severus some kind of favor. He wasn’t sure what, though: he’d never met Mrs. Dursley or her family. Severus communicated with her via email and phone, Apparating back to England on those rare occasions when he had to meet her face-to-face.
“Same as ever, or so I assume.” Severus shrugged. “She doesn’t spill out her heart to me. How was your day?”
“It was great! We caught some awesome waves. And Maya got her internship!”
“That is good news.” Severus smiled briefly.
“So…” Harry nerved himself up. “Maya won’t be able to work at Shadowed Planet this summer. With her internship.”
Severus’s eyes narrowed with suspicion. “And so?”
“And so…I went and talked to Los Dos this afternoon. And they said they’d be happy to have me there part-time! It’d be four days a week,” he continued valiantly against Severus’s frozen silence. “Five hours Wednesday, Thursday and Friday, and eight hours Saturday. Plenty of time for me to help out in the workshop. I’d be ringing up sales and stocking shelves at the store. Fifteen dollars an hour! Starting next week. What do you think?”
Severus was silent a long moment, fiddling with his napkin. He was wearing a t-shirt tonight; the day’s heat had gotten intense enough that even Severus had to make concessions to it. There was an odd mark on the inside of his left elbow, Harry noticed: a sort of bruise. Or maybe the shadow of an old tattoo. Harry had never noticed it before.
“Mike and Miguel would be with you the entire time?” Severus asked at last.
“Yep. Perfectly safe and respectable. And it’s not like there’s a rough crowd in there!” Harry tried a grin. “So, what should I say to Los Dos?”
Severus gave a long sigh, as though coming to a decision against his better judgment. “All right. You can take the job. But only until the end of the summer. Once school starts, I want you concentrating on that. And you’re to help me in the workshop. Understand?”
“Yes.” Harry beamed. “Thank you, Severus!”
“You’re welcome.” Severus gave one of his small half-smiles. He regarded Harry thoughtfully. “We’ll have to open a bank account for you. We’ll go to the bank tomorrow and make an opening deposit.”
“Sounds good!” Harry grinned: his own bank account! He was moving up in the world.
Severus was silent a moment longer, fingers tapping the tabletop. “You take care of the dishes,” he said at last. “And then come back to the table. We’re going to have a discussion.”
Harry suppressed a sigh: he knew what the phrase have a discussion meant. Still, if this was the price of a summer job, he’d pay it. “Okay, Severus.”
Harry cleared the table and cast the Scourgify spell on all the dishes. When he came back, Severus had taken out his copy of The Science of Potion-Making and laid it out on the table, opened to the back cover.
There, attached to the inside of the back cover with a Sticking Charm, was a wizarding photograph. In it, a woman with bright green eyes and dark red hair laughed and waved, embracing the other person in the original photo. All that could be seen of this other person was their arm, clad in a thick sweater sleeve, hugging the woman. The other half of the photograph had been ripped away. Severus had framed the remaining half in paper, disguising the tear, but there was no getting rid of the mysterious arm.
Harry knew the steps of this ritual. He sat beside Severus, before the book with its photograph, and made to pay attention.
Severus tapped the photograph. “This is your mother,” he said. “Lily Evans Potter. We knew each other as children, growing up in the same town back in England. She came from a Muggle family, but I knew right from the start that she was a witch. That she was special.” Severus’s eyes were soft on the photograph. “She was a wonderful person, your mother. Kind and brave and talented. I still think of her every day. You have her eyes, you know.”
Severus fell silent a moment. Harry waited patiently, eyeing the woman in the photo. His mother.
Severus shook himself and continued, “She got her letter from Hogwarts the same year I did. And don’t look like that, Harry,” he added in exasperation. “It is not that foolish a name.”
“Yes, it is. Whose bright idea was it to name a school after a skin disease in pigs?”
“Well, be that as it may,” said Severus, giving one of his suppressed half-smiles, “we went to Hogwarts together to be trained in magic.
“It was perhaps not the best time to be a witch or wizard. The magical community was threatened by the rise of a terrible Dark wizard, so evil and so powerful that people feared to speak his very name.”
“The Dark Lord,” Harry said, and felt a shiver travel down his spine.
“The Dark Lord,” Severus confirmed. “He and his Death Eaters were seizing power, killing wizards and Muggles alike in their rampage. The Ministry of Magic could do nothing to stop them. Hogwarts School—whatever you might think of the name—was one of the very few safe places.
“After school, Lily and I both decided to fight the Dark Lord, joining the Order of the Phoenix, established for that very purpose. Naturally, this was a very dangerous course of action. The Dark Lord had every member of the Order marked down for death. In particular, he wished to kill Lily and her husband and son. You, Harry.”
“I still don’t see why he’d want to kill a one-year-old baby,” Harry muttered.
“Who knows what goes on in the Dark Lord’s mind? He really wasn’t sane by then. Anyway, he went to the little village where you and your parents were living, broke through the defenses, and killed your father, James Potter. Then he raised his wand to kill Lily.
“That was when I came in. I came as soon as I could, when I heard the Dark Lord had found Lily’s family. I came, and I managed to fight off the Dark Lord.
“But I was too late to save Lily. One of the Dark Lord’s spells had hit her. Even as the Dark Lord fled, she lay on the floor, dying. I held her in my arms.” Severus took a deep, shaking breath, gathering strength. “In her final moments, she begged me to protect you, her infant son, and keep you safe. I promised her I would do so. And then she died.”
Silence. Severus stared at the photograph, tears in his eyes. Harry felt pretty miserable himself. Though he knew the story well, it was still awful to think that the woman in the photo—that laughing, smiling, happy woman—his mother—had died so horribly, and Severus had been powerless to save her.
Severus turned to place a hand on Harry’s shoulder. “I had promised your mother I would protect you, and so I did. I had fought off the Dark Lord, but I couldn’t kill him. I knew he would return, determined to finish the job of killing the Potters. And me too, for that matter. So I took you away, here to San Benito, on the other side of the world.
“So you see why we must hide, Harry. The Dark Lord is still in power. He has complete dominance over the magical world. So we must stay hidden among the Muggles, and have no contact with other wizards. They would turn us over to the Dark Lord, and he would kill us both.”
“Yes, Severus.” This, of course, was the import of this rendition of the story: however normal Harry’s life seemed, with ordinary friends and an ordinary job, he was not like others and never would be. He must always take care. His and Severus’s lives were constantly in danger.
Harry reached up to touch the lightning-shaped scar on his forehead. “I got this scar the night the Dark Lord killed my parents, right?”
“That’s right. One of his spells hit you: just a light blow, but enough to leave a curse-scar.” Severus’s hand tightened on Harry’s shoulder. “Promise me you’ll take care, Harry. Don’t let your mother’s sacrifice be in vain.”
“I won’t. I promise.” Harry reached up to clasp Severus’s wrist.
They remained clasped together for a moment. Then they let their hands drop and Severus closed the book again. “Very good,” he said. “Your mother would be proud. Now go take a shower and go to bed.”
“Good night, Severus.” As Harry left the room, he heard Severus closing the weighty tome, shutting the photograph away again.
Harry went upstairs quiet and subdued, as always after a rendition of this gruesome story. The course of his entire life had been determined by just one night of bloodshed and slaughter. If only this Order of the Phoenix had actually managed to defeat the Dark Lord. If only Severus had actually killed the Dark Lord instead of just fighting him off. If only he’d saved Lily…
He shook his head. There was no point thinking like this. The past couldn’t be changed. All he and Severus could do was make the best of their circumstances.
Harry grabbed his pajamas and clean underwear and went to take a shower. Dark Lord or no Dark Lord, tomorrow was going to be a busy day.