Thy Father Lies

“…So yeah, I think it went pretty well.” Harry ate some more peas. There was no need to tell Severus he’d already met Ginny on the beach, he decided. “Turns out the Weasleys are staying in the Ghost Rental up at North Beach!” And definitely no need to mention that he’d actually witnessed the Weasleys’ dramatic arrival. “So Ginny’s going to meet up with Tomas and Maya and me on Sunday.”

“Excellent.” Severus gave a restrained half-smile. “But as I said, Harry, do not rush things. Do not, for instance, ask any questions about the Weasleys’ personal possessions on Sunday, or express any interest in entering their beach house. We don’t have an ideal timeframe, I’ll admit, but if you tip your hand, you can ruin the entire operation.”

Harry raised an eyebrow. “You sound like you’ve done this before.”

“I did some espionage work for the Order,” said Severus after a moment. “Not quite under these conditions, however.”

“You were a spy?” Harry gaped. “Wow! Why did you never tell me?”

“Spying isn’t glamorous work, Harry, whatever the movies might depict,” Severus snapped. “It is difficult, tedious, lonely, dangerous and exhausting. That was not an enjoyable period of my life, let us say. I didn’t ever much feel like talking about it.”

A strange thought occurred to Harry: Severus never really did talk about his past, did he? Everything Harry knew about his guardian, he knew from the story of his mother’s life and death. Severus said he’d grown up in the same town as Lily, but never specified that town’s name, or where it was. He never talked about his own family, his work for the Order of the Phoenix, or anything at all about his past, really, that was unrelated to Lily Potter.

Weird.

Severus was still talking. “I was working under different conditions than you, of course. Normally espionage is a lengthy, protracted operation, over the course of years, and you’re dealing with very dangerous, unpleasant people. This situation is the opposite: our subjects are not dangerous people in and of themselves, but we are working within a very limited timeframe. It does put a different sort of pressure on you, Harry, I’ll admit.” He stared at Harry for a long, hard moment. “Would you say Miss Weasley enjoyed your company, Harry?”

“Yeah, I think so,” said Harry, remembering how she giggled and blushed. “She sure seemed to like the comics store. She’d never been in one before, can you believe it? She’d never heard of Star Wars! She’d never even heard of William Shakespeare!”

“I wish I could say I was surprised,” said Severus dryly, “but wizards’ knowledge of anything outside of the magical world is often extremely lamentable.”

 “Why is that?” Harry asked, intrigued.

“Wizards keep themselves isolated from Muggles as much as they can.” Severus sipped water. “They tell themselves it’s because they’re better than Muggles. But in reality, they’re afraid.”

“Afraid?” Harry frowned. Taught all his life to fear other wizards, it was difficult for him to imagine wizards fearing Muggles. “Why would they be afraid?”

“The same reason you and I are so careful not to let our neighbors know who or what we are: because Muggles would kill or enslave them. Muggles vastly outnumber wizards, they have superior technology, communication, organization…If the Muggles so decided, they could crush the magical world within a week.” Severus gave a brief, mirthless smile. “I think even the Dark Lord is secretly afraid of them. That’s why he never tries to conquer the Muggles. He knows, deep down, that he would lose.”

Harry felt a chill, just imagining it. No matter which side won, the slaughter, he imagined, would be tremendous. “Yeah, I guess it’s better to avoid all that.” To distract himself, he cut off a piece of lamb and ate it. “So witches and wizards spend their whole childhoods basically locked up?” He felt a pang of pity for Ginny.

“Yes, unless they’re lucky enough to have at least one Muggle parent.”

“But they start magical school at age eleven, right?” Another weird thought presented itself. “Wait…what about before? Do wizards have, like, elementary school or anything?”

“Not really. There are tutors, sometimes informal schools, but many magical children arrive at Hogwarts with very little previous education.” Severus gave one of his Severus-brand sneers. “It’s one reason why the magical world lags behind the Muggle in so many areas.”

“So all these kids show up at Hogwarts, like, not knowing how to read or anything?” Harry gasped.

“Hogwarts does require basic literacy and numeracy competence,” said Severus, “but yes, it’s definitely a problem.”

“Man.” Harry sat back, contemplating this bleak picture. “That’s terrible. I should definitely take Ginny to see Shakespeare in the Park. I’ve already promised to show her Star Wars.”

Severus rolled his eyes. “Of course you have.”

“Come on, Severus, Star Wars is great! And you’ve got to approve of Shakespeare in the Park, right? You love Shakespeare.” Severus and Los Dos had always taken Harry and Maya to see Shakespeare in the Park, even when both children were far too young to understand a word of what the actors said.

“I admire genius in all its forms.” Severus straightened, closed his eyes and recited from memory:

“Full fathom five thy father lies;

Of his bones are coral made;

Those are pearls that were his eyes:

Nothing of him that doth fade,

But doth suffer a sea-change

Into something rich and strange.

Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell:

Ding-dong.

Hark! Now I hear them: ding-dong bell.”

The hairs on Harry’s neck stood up. Severus could have been a good Shakespearean actor himself, he reflected: Harry could almost hear the murmur of waves, the mournful echo of the sea-nymphs’ bell. “That’s such a spooky poem.” He eyed Severus curiously. “Did you always like Shakespeare, Severus? I mean, before we moved here?”

“Indeed I did.” Severus relaxed, the strange, eerie spell of the poem dissipating. “I had the benefits of a Muggle education before I went to Hogwarts, after all.”

“Were you Muggle-born, like Mom?”

Severus shifted. “Why do you ask?”

“I’m just curious.”

Severus sighed. “I had a Muggle father and a witch mother. But I grew up in the Muggle world.”

“How about Dad?” The words just shot out without Harry’s volition.

“What about him?” Severus’s eyes took on the flat, blank look they always did whenever James Potter was brought up.

Harry knew it was a mistake to keep going, but the poem was still ringing in his mind. Full fathom five thy father lies… “It’s just…I don’t know anything about him. Did he have Muggle parents? Did he grow up in the same town as you and Mom?”

“No, he didn’t. I didn’t really know him well,” said Severus, as he always did. “And we are getting off topic. We need to discuss how you will next approach Ginny Weasley and get an introduction to her family—”

“You must have known something about him.” The strange, stubborn argumentativeness that had plagued him lately was rising in Harry again, unstoppable. “Mom was your best friend, right? So you must have known her husband. Did he go to Hogwarts with you and Mom? Was he in the Order too? What did he look like?”

“Harry—”

“Please, just anything—”

“Enough!” Severus’s shout cut through Harry’s voice. “I will not discuss James Potter with you, now or ever! He is long dead and that is all you need to know. Is that clear?”

Severus’s black eyes glittered and there were two red spots on his cheekbones. His breath came harsh and hard. He was really angry, Harry realized.

“Yes,” Harry said in a small voice. “I’m sorry.”

Severus took a deep, shaking breath, then another. His fist, clenched on the table, relaxed.

“My apologies, Harry,” he said, his usual calm returning. “I shouldn’t have lost control like that. But we must stay focused. Let’s talk about what will happen on Sunday.”

“Okay,” said Harry, and tried to put Severus’s outburst out of his mind.

“So who are these Muggles exactly?” Hermione, waiting at the edge of the parking lot in her swimsuit, rubbed more sunscreen into her skin.

“They’re these local kids.” Ginny didn’t look back from scanning the parking lot. “They go surfing here. They said they’d come back today.”

“Don’t see why we need to wait for them here.” Ron glanced with longing at the beach and the splashing waves. “Can’t we wait for them down at the beach?”

“Come on, just a bit longer—ah!” Ginny straightened, eyes brightening. “That’s their car!”

Ginny hurried over to the van laden with surfboards as it backed into a spot with a crunch of gravel. The passenger door opened—for a moment Ginny was confused, thinking it was the driver’s door—and Harry Powell stepped out, wind messing his already untidy black hair. Ginny found her breath catching at the sight of him, and a grin took over her face. “Hey!”

He looked over and gave a grin of his own. “Ginny! Hi!” He came striding over, only to check at the sight of Ron and Hermione. “Who are these?”

Ginny hurried to introduce them. “Harry, this is my brother Ron and my friend Hermione Granger. Ron, Hermione, this is Harry Powell.”

 “Hi there!” Ron grinned and waved. Hermione murmured a greeting. She was staring at Harry with an odd frown on her face.

“Hey! Who are these folks?” Tomas was heading over now, along with Maya.

Ginny made introductions again. Hermione finally tore her gaze away from Harry to gape at Tomas, blushing a little. Ron scowled with jealousy, but Tomas acted as though he didn’t notice. No doubt he was used to girls staring at him, Ginny thought.

“So you’re all staying at the Ghost Rental?” Tomas said cheerfully. “What’s it like? Chandeliers covered in dusty cobwebs and ghosts emerging from the walls?”

“Tomas! Stop it!” Maya nudged him, laughing. “They’re going to think we’re completely nuts!”

“No ghosts,” said Ginny, with complete honesty. “It’s very…modern inside.”

“Really?” said Tomas. “You’ll have to show us. We’ve been wondering about that place for years.”

Harry brightened. “Yeah, I’d like that too!”

“Maybe another time.” Ginny started herding them all toward the beach. “You promised you’d show me how to surf today. And Ron and Hermione too!”

The Muggles all stopped by their car to grab their surfboards and wetsuits. Ron couldn’t keep up his sullen scowl when the boards came out, and Tomas was only too happy to show him his surfing equipment. Before they were even halfway to the beach, Tomas was chattering away to Ron about waves he’d caught and his plans for a swimming scholarship, Hermione was asking Maya about the nature reserve, and Ginny found herself walking next to Harry.

She eyed him sidelong. He was ostensibly less handsome than Tomas, she freely admitted that. So why did her eyes keep going past the beautiful young athlete to this skinny nerd? Ginny wasn’t sure. But there was just something so intriguing about Harry Powell, something that caught Ginny’s attention every time they met. “So that’s your wetsuit?” she said, and cringed inwardly.

“Yeah,” said Harry, not seeming to notice the lameness of her comment. He flapped the long black garment. “The water’s real cold around here, even in summer. A wetsuit lets you stay out longer.”

“I guess I’ll just have to freeze, then.” Ginny was wearing her swimsuit under her shorts and a button-up shirt.

Harry laughed a little. “The water’s not that cold. You just can’t stay in it for, like, hours and hours.”

“The water’s even colder in Britain. You can’t go in it at all, most places.” Ginny glanced at him. “You came from Britain originally, right? You and your…cousin?”

 “My guardian. Yeah.” Harry looked out to sea and heaved a sigh.

“Something the matter?”

“Oh, it’s nothing.” He kicked aside a seashell on the path. “We just…kind of had a fight the other night. I…said the wrong thing. He got upset.”

Ginny felt a pang of sympathy. “Don’t worry. I do that all the time.”

“You do?” He glanced at her as though he really wanted to know.

“Oh, yeah.” Ginny giggled. “Just ask my brothers!”

“How many brothers do you have?” They reached the beach proper and stepped onto the loose, soft sand.

“Six.”

“Six! Really?” Harry laughed aloud in incredulity.

“Yeah. I’m the youngest. Ron’s the next oldest, aren’t you Ron?” Ginny raised her voice over the ocean waves to shout at Ron.

“That’s right. Feel free to pity me, Harry,” Ron called back. “Squashed between Ginny and the twins, what a nightmare!”

“I wonder what that’s like,” said Maya. “Harry and I are only children, aren’t we, Harry?”

“Me too,” said Hermione.

“I’ve got three sisters,” laughed Tomas. “We’ll have to stick together, Ron and Ginny, or we’ll be overpowered by the spoiled only children brats!” He gave Ron a comradely smack on the arm. Ron, laughing, returned it.

The reached the cement pad of the changing rooms, and the wizards waited outside while the Muggles went in to don their wetsuits. Ron turned to Ginny with a bit of a grin. “Okay, I’ll admit it, Ginny: they are pretty cool. Especially that Tomas.”

Ginny grinned. “Told you.”

“They’re nice, I suppose.” Hermione still had an odd expression, staring contemplatively into the distance. “That Harry, though…”

“What about him?”

“I don’t know.” Hermione was still frowning. “I almost feel like—I don’t know, like I’ve seen him somewhere before.”

“Maybe you’ve seen him in town? He works at the comics store.” Ginny smiled a bit in memory: she was really enjoying Punderworld. She wondered if she could get back for the fantasy drawing class next Tuesday, even if Harry wouldn’t be there.

“Not there. This is going to sound crazy but…I almost think I saw him in a—a book somewhere. An illustration or something.”

“A book!” Ron laughed. “Come off it, Hermione, he’s just some Muggle kid.”

“Yes. I suppose.” Hermione relaxed with a self-conscious laugh. “I’m probably just imagining things. I guess I am a bit obsessed with the Potter Mystery.”

“That’s why we love you.” Ron put his arm around her shoulders and kissed her cheek.

Ginny looked away, rolling her eyes, and saw Harry and Tomas exit the men’s changing room. They were laughing and pushing each other as boys did everywhere, it seemed. As Harry staggered sideways his bangs fell aside and the light hit his forehead. An odd, lightning-shaped scar showed with unexpected clarity.

Ginny stiffened. That scar rang an obscure bell. Something Hermione had said once…? Or she had read somewhere…? Something about scars and curses…

“Hey, Ginny?” Harry’s grin was fading a bit as he looked at her, suddenly uncertain.

“Is that a scar on your forehead, Harry?” she asked.

Everyone’s attention swung around on Harry. He reached up to clap a hand over his forehead. “Um. Yeah.”

He looked so mortified and uncomfortable that Ginny was immediately struck with guilt. “Sorry. I—couldn’t help noticing. But it’s not my business. I’m sorry.” To her relief, Maya was exiting the changing room. “Look, there’s Maya.” Ginny waved. “Shall we all have our first surfing lesson?”

An evil grin grew on Tomas’s face. “Oh, yeah.”

“You’ve done it now.” Harry gave a theatrical groan.

“Oh, stop it, you two,” scolded Maya. “Come on, let’s get down to the water. And pick up any trash you see, we don’t want it getting into the ocean.”

“What do you mean?” Ron asked.

“Oh, God!” Harry pretended to cower back. “You’ve really done it now!” he cried. “She’ll be lecturing for hours!”

“Shut up, Harry. There are literal tons of plastic entering the ocean every single day, and if people don’t get their act together…”

Maya led Ron, Hermione and Tomas down the beach, lecturing away. Ginny lagged behind with Harry. “Look, I’m sorry. About earlier. I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”

“It’s okay.” Harry gave a quick, grimacing smile. “It’s just…I guess I’m a little sensitive about it, that’s all.” He flattened his bangs over his forehead again, hiding the scar. Then he rooted around his backpack. “Sorry. Gotta text Stephen.”

Ginny watched him extract his smartphone and start poking at it with his thumb, very fast. “Why’re you texting him? If you don’t mind my asking,” she added hastily.

“Not at all.” Harry put his phone back in his bag. “I’m just letting him know where I am.”

“Even though you had a fight?” said Ginny, gently teasing.

“Especially since we had a fight.” Harry’s grin was wry. “I really don’t want to upset him right now.”

“What, you’ll be in trouble if you don’t text him?” They headed down the sand, following the others.

“He gets worried.” Harry shrugged.

“So you have to text him all the time?”

“Pretty much.” Harry lightened it with a laugh. “Look, it’s not as bad as it sounds. Stephen…he hasn’t had the easiest life. It makes him a bit paranoid. But it’s okay.” He quickened his steps. “Come on, I’ll show you how to paddle out on my board.”

Wondering if she’d ever meet the Paranoid Stephen, or if she even wanted to, Ginny ran after Harry down to the waves.