Chapter 14
“I found him!” Hermione burst into their bedroom, book in hand.
“Found who?” Ginny glanced up from rereading Punderworld. “That picture Harry Powell reminded you of?”
“No,” said Hermione in frustration. “I’ve looked and looked, and I just don’t think that illustration is in any of the books I brought. I’ll have to write to McGonagall for more. But—” She flourished the book in hand. “—I did find Severus! Severus Snape, that is. He was a Death Eater!”
“Really?” Ginny put aside her book and stood from the bed. “Let me see!”
Hermione handed her the copy of The Rise and Fall of the Dark Lord and pointed to the relevant passage. It was list of minor Death Eaters, each with their own short blurb:
Severus Snape. Like many other suspected Death Eaters, Snape’s membership in the Dark Lord’s organization was never absolutely proven. However, it is believed that this shadowy figure conducted espionage work for the Death Eaters and brewed potions for the Dark Lord’s personal use. Snape was never caught or brought to trial, having disappeared shortly before the Dark Lord’s downfall. It is possible that the Dark Lord killed Snape himself, suspecting him of double-crossing his master.
“A Death Eater?” Ginny read the blurb again. “Dumbledore wouldn’t associate with Death Eaters!”
“It says You-Know-Who might’ve killed him, though,” Hermione pointed out. “If he was a spy, maybe he turned double-agent and started working for Dumbledore.”
“Betraying You-Know-Who?” Ginny was awed. “Wow. That must’ve taken guts.” She thought back to the overheard conversation: “You remember your vow, Dumbledore. You just remember what you promised me. I will do your bidding, but the boy is mine.” When had Dumbledore made that vow? And under what circumstances?
Hermione took the book back. “Of course, we don’t have any proof that this is the same Severus.”
“I don’t know,” said Ginny. “It’s an awfully unusual name. How many Severus’s are going to be personal acquaintances of Dumbledore’s?”
“Severus Dumbledore?” Ron popped his head in through the doorway. “Is that some no-good relative of the Headmaster’s?”
“No,” said Hermione. She handed him the book. “It’s Severus Snape, and he was a Death Eater.”
Ron quickly read the blurb. “Huh. He sounds like one creepy bloke. Why do you care, though? Unless he’s going to start teaching Potions at Hogwarts!” He laughed at the thought.
Ginny sighed with resignation. She supposed there was no way Ron wouldn’t find out. Quickly, she recounted the story of what she’d overheard back at Hogwarts.
“Blimey!” Ron’s eyes were round. “You think Dumbledore’s friends with a Death Eater?”
“They didn’t sound like friends,” Ginny muttered. “But yeah, I think this Severus is working for Dumbledore. And he might be the same person as Severus Snape the Death Eater. Hermione thinks Severus Snape might have turned double-agent.”
“Cool!” Ron’s face split into a grin. “A Death Eater double-agent!”
“We don’t have a shred of proof,” Hermione said hastily. “So don’t go telling anyone, Ron, please!”
Ron shook his head. “I won’t. Gryffindor’s honor.”
“Hey, all,” Bill called. “Looks like Fred and George are arriving now.”
Ron blanched. “Gotta go!” He tore off.
“They’re not going to eat you, Ron!” Ginny laughed, running after him into the living room. Ron had already bolted up to his loft and was shoving something down deeper into his trunk.
“What’s that?” Ginny called up, leaning against the ladder.
“What’s what?” Ron’s head appeared over the edge.
“That thing you were just hiding.”
“Nothing,” said Ron, ears turning red. “Just something I don’t really want Fred and George seeing. You know how they are.”
“Yeah, I know,” said Ginny, and stood aside to make way for her brother’s descent down the ladder. She said nothing more—Ron did have plenty of reasons to hide his personal possessions from the twins—but she did wonder if Ron had been telling the entire truth.
“Hey, Harry.” Miguel appeared in the doorway to the backroom. “Can you step back here for a minute?”
Harry slotted the last book into its place on the shelf. “Sure.”
He headed toward the backroom, Felicita at his heels. Lately the cat hadn’t left him alone for a single minute while he was in the shop, following him everywhere, constantly underfoot, staring up at him with those judgmental feline eyes. He felt she was full of concern, and wondered what for, unless she knew and disapproved of his secret mission.
He hadn’t seen Ginny or the Weasleys since Monday. Severus seemed pleased with his progress when he made his report—omitting the bit with the gopher snake, of course. No need to mention a snake saying hi, not when Severus hated any mention of Harry’s ability with Parseltongue and Harry had successfully ignored the snake anyway.
“Bill Weasley has invited you and your friends to dinner?” Severus had said. “Good! Very good.”
“He didn’t really invite us,” Harry cautioned. “More mentioned inviting us over at some vague date in the future.”
“Nevertheless,” said Severus. “We’d better start practicing that Dark detection charm. Don’t try anything the first time you’re over there—establish yourself as a good guest and a harmless friend. Make them want to invite you back again. And when they do, look for the One Ring. But only if you can be sure of doing so without the Weasleys’ notice.”
Harry shifted. Severus noticed. “What is it, Harry?”
“I don’t know,” Harry muttered. “I—I just don’t like all this lying and sneaking around. Pretending to be the Weasleys’ friend when I’m actually spying on them.” He wondered how Ginny would react if she ever learned the truth, and felt his stomach contract.
Severus laughed shortly. “You’re too honest for this sort of work, Harry.” Seeing Harry’s unhappy expression, he relented slightly. “This is for the Weasleys’ own good too, you know. As long as they have the One Ring, they’re all in danger. The sooner we can get it away from them, the safer everyone will be.”
Now Harry stepped into the stuffy backroom, closing the door behind him. “What’s up, Miguel?”
Miguel held up a small plastic pot. “I got the makeup Stephen asked for. To disguise your scar. I thought I’d better apply it, since he won’t know how.”
“Oh! Thanks.” At Miguel’s direction, Harry stood aside and held his bangs away from his forehead. He held still as Miguel started to apply the sticky, clay-like mixture, molding it gently with his fingertips.
“There.” Miguel stood back and admired his work. “Let that dry. It’ll form a sort of semi-permanent scrim you can take off with this gel.” He held up a smaller pot. “But I’d recommend leaving it on as long as you can. It’ll lose its adhesiveness every time you re-stick it. When you need a new one, just let me know.”
“Wow! Thanks, Miguel! Let me take a look.” Harry hurried off to the staff restroom, where he inspected the results in the mirror. He was impressed: he could still see his scar, but it didn’t look at all lightning-shaped anymore, and he didn’t seem to be wearing any makeup at all.
Harry came back out and nearly tripped over Felicita. “That cat!” he cursed as she streaked off, giving him an offended look over her shoulder. “She won’t leave me alone.”
“Ah, she’s just worried about you,” grinned Miguel, giving Felicita an ear-rub.
Harry eyed Miguel askance. The comic shop owner and his husband had done almost as much to raise Harry as Severus had. They had looked after him when Severus was unable to, had him over on playdates, and even invited Harry and Severus to their annual Christmas party. Miguel was in many ways more approachable than Severus—he was certainly far less snappish and prickly—and Harry had often gone to him with questions and problems he was unable to bring to Severus, like social advice at school. Harry loved Mike and Miguel almost as much as he loved Severus.
But, for all that, he sometimes wondered how well he actually knew the older man. And, more importantly, what did Miguel know? “Miguel,” he said, “did Stephen tell you why we want to hide my scar?”
Was it just him, or did Miguel hesitate slightly? “Not really. I figured you were just sick of it. Or you wanted a new look for Pridefest.” He grinned. “Afraid you’ll scare off that redhaired Brit, amante? Your scar isn’t that bad, you know. In most lights.”
“Ha ha ha,” said Harry, deadpan. “I don’t know if I want to take Ginny to Pridefest yet. I haven’t asked her.” Still, his heart lightened at the idea. San Benito was holding Pridefest this weekend. Harry would be too busy working to attend on Saturday—Pridefest was always a busy time for Shadowed Planet—but Mike and Miguel had both promised not to call Harry in on Sunday. And there was Friday evening too, when the festivities kicked off…Harry imagined heading out with Ginny, her face painted with rainbow glitter, buying her a paper streamer, dancing at the public amphitheater down at the beach, not a thought to magic or Dark Lords or the One Ring…If Severus would let him out after dark, of course. Which seemed less likely than ever this year. He sighed.
Harry heard the muffled sound of the door bells. “Better go. Thanks, Miguel!”
He hurried out to find Ginny Weasley herself, as though his thoughts had conjured her. She stood in the comic store like a beam of sunshine personified, hair glowing around her, face bright. “Hi!” she said, waving.
Harry found himself grinning back. “Hi, Ginny!”
“I brought Ron and Hermione,” said Ginny, shattering the moment. “And I wanted to show Fred and George this place too. Harry, meet my twin brothers, Fred and George. Fred and George, Harry Powell.”
“Hello!” said one of the identical redhaired young men. “Ginny’s told us about you.”
“You work here in the comics store—”
“And you surf—”
“And you’re a total California dreamboat—”
“Stop it!” Ginny laughed, blushing as she swatted at her brothers. “I never said that!”
“Aw, so I’m not a dreamboat?” Harry teased, even as he felt himself blushing too.
Ginny looked sly. “Never said that either.” Harry’s heart lurched.
“Blimey.” Ron was wandering around with an awestruck expression. “This place is ruddy—I mean, it’s brilliant!”
“Glad you think so.” Miguel swooped in. “Allow me to show you the latest video games.”
“Ginny said you had some Shakespeare too?” said Hermione, who looked a little uncertain, her eyes darting suspiciously around the shop.
“Yeah, we’ve got the manga based off the plays, and William Shakespeare’s Star Wars, a modern classic, right over here…” Miguel led Ron and Hermione off.
“So!” One of the twins—Harry wasn’t sure which—ran a judicious eye over Harry. “You’ve lived here in San Benito all your life, Harry?”
“Yeah,” said Harry, trying not to feel intimidated. “Well, I was born in Britain. But I’ve lived here since I was a baby.”
“Born in Britain!” The other twin straightened, tucked an imaginary umbrella under his arm and adjusted an imaginary monocle. “Well, my dear old boy, I suppose in that case you are acceptable for our dear little sister here—”
“Oh, shut up and go read some comics,” Ginny said easily. “Harry’s going to show me those Mortal Instruments books, aren’t you, Harry?”
“Sure,” said Harry, and so found himself leading Ginny over to a shelf on the other side of the shop.
“Sorry about them,” Ginny said in an undertone. “They’re always like this.”
“It’s okay,” said Harry, though in truth he found Fred and George rather overwhelming. “Do you want to go surfing again later?”
“Absolutely!” Ginny’s face lit up.
“Okay,” said Harry, blinking away the dazzle. “Should I come by this afternoon? Actually, if we leave it until later, maybe Maya can come too.”
“Sounds good!” Ginny held out her arms, as if balancing on a surfboard. “Surfing in the sunset…If I can keep the twins from joining in.”
Harry laughed. “They’re not that bad, honestly. I’ll have to ask Stephen, though, before I stay out late.”
“You know, I’m getting rather curious about Stephen,” said Ginny. “He sounds like…a personality. Do you think I’d ever be able to meet him?”
Harry pictured introducing Ginny to Severus and nearly choked. “Uh…we’ll have to see.” He hesitated. “You know…we’re having Pridefest this weekend. Would you…would you like to come with me?”
Ginny’s face did that sunlit-lantern effect again, nearly blinding Harry. “Ooh, yes!” She paused. “Um—what is Pridefest, exactly?”
Harry glanced out at the rainbow flag through the window and felt a grin starting. “Well…”