Chapter 17
When Harry awoke, sunlight was streaming in, so bright it seemed almost solid. Harry lay in bed, staring at it foggily. Outside, he could hear the flock of wild parrots calling.
The realization came to him that he must have woken up very late. It was difficult to put thoughts together, though: his mind felt slow and sticky. His stomach churned, and his mouth tasted like something had died in it. He lay still in bed, wondering why he felt so terrible and what had happened last night. He knew something had…but it was all a confused jumble…
A soft knock on the door. “Harry?” Severus opened the door and poked his head in. “How are you feeling?”
Harry let out a long, dry moan. “Like crap,” he finally rasped out.
“I’m not surprised.” Severus opened the door the rest of the way and entered. He held a loaded breakfast tray. “You woke up ill last night.”
“Oh…yeah. I guess I did.” Harry could remember now: waking up from confused, feverish nightmares, sick to his stomach and his head splitting. Severus had had to come take care of him, making him cocoa and then feeding him a potion that put him back to sleep.
Now Harry dragged himself upright, fumbling for his glasses as Severus brought the tray over. It contained toast with butter, a scrambled egg and a glass of ice water. Nothing too taxing for an upset stomach. “Thanks, Severus,” Harry said as Severus placed it on his lap. He began to eat, slowly. “Man, I feel awful…”
“I’d be amazed if you didn’t. You were very sick last night.” Severus pulled over Harry’s desk chair and sat facing Harry in bed. “You woke up with bad nightmares. Do you remember any of them?”
Harry thought back. His head was a bit clearer now that he’d eaten something, but last night was still a blurry mess. “Not really. Just…a graveyard, maybe. And…a dog.” His memories slipped, distorting, replaced by a sense of fever and pervasive malaise. “I think.”
“Are you sure?” Severus’s black eyes were fixed on him, unblinking.
“Yeah.” Harry ate some egg. He let out a self-conscious laugh. “Wow, I must’ve been really sick!”
“Yes, you were.” Severus let out a long breath. He sounded odd—almost relieved. “How are you feeling now?”
Harry washed down his egg with ice water. “Better.” Indeed, he could feel his brain rapidly coming back online, the haze clearing away, though last night remained an ill-remembered blur. The food seemed to be calming his stomach too, and the headache was clearing away. Harry ate with more gusto, spearing more scrambled egg on his fork. “Thanks for breakfast, Severus! And thanks for taking care of me last night.”
“No problem,” smiled Severus. “Do you think you’ll be well enough to go to the Weasleys’ tonight?”
Harry considered. “Yeah, I think so, if I take it easy today. Good thing I don’t have work.”
“Indeed.” Severus still didn’t look entirely relaxed, watching Harry with an intense gaze. “I’ll want to cast a few protective charms on you before you go, Harry.”
“Why?” Harry asked around a bite of toast. “I’ve got all those amulets on my belt.”
“Call it a precaution,” said Severus after a pause. “This’ll be your first time going to a wizarding house.”
“I’ll be careful, I promise,” said Harry earnestly. “No magic of any kind. And I’ll give you a full report tonight!”
“Much appreciated,” said Severus. “But remember: don’t look for the One Ring tonight. And do nothing to reveal your true nature.”
“I won’t,” Harry promised.
Severus left soon after that, saying he had potions to attend to. Harry finished his breakfast alone. He put the tray aside and lay back with a sigh.
Perhaps it was a lingering effect of his illness, but he was feeling strange: sort of floating and melancholy, his thoughts wandering. Severus’s comment about doing nothing to reveal his true nature had stirred memories, memories Harry felt too weak and shivery to resist.
Memories of Jose Ruiz.
He’d met Jose at age ten, when Jose and his family had moved into town. Jose was put into Harry’s class, and the boys had hit it off immediately. They’d played together at every recess. Jose was a lot of fun: chatty and outgoing, always ready with a game of make-believe. Severus had allowed Harry to go over to Jose’s house to play a few times—with Severus in attendance, of course—and the Ruizes had all been as nice as their son. They’d also owned a dog, to Harry’s delight.
Harry never invited Jose over to his own house: Severus expressly forbade him from inviting any of his friends over, even Maya. But one hot, sunny Saturday, when Harry was playing alone in the front yard, Jose happened to pass by.
“Hey, Harry!” Jose, decked out in his bicycle helmet, grinned over the fence at Harry. “Can I come in?”
Harry hesitated. But Severus was safely locked away in the workshop. Surely it would be all right for Jose to play, just for a few minutes. “Okay,” he said, and Jose wheeled in his bicycle.
He looked around, bright-eyed. “Wow, I’ve never been in your yard before!”
“Keep your voice down!” whispered Harry. “If Stephen hears, he’ll throw you out.”
Jose giggled but said, “Okay.” He squatted down by Harry, and they played in the dirt, building castles out of pebbles and clearing roadways for Harry’s toy cars.
Then Jose let out a yell, recoiling. Harry looked over to see the strong flex of a snake. Jose scrambled back, wide-eyed. “It’s a snake!”
“It’s fine. That’s just the snake who lives in our yard.” Harry crawled over. “Don’t be afraid,” he whispered in Parseltongue. “This is my friend. He won’t hurt you.”
“He’s big and noisy,” replied the snake. “He’ll crush me.”
“He won’t, I promise. Here, let me move you…” Harry gently lifted up the snake and placed him behind the oleander bush.
When he turned back, Jose was staring at him, bug-eyed. “Harry…can you talk to snakes?”
Harry flushed, realizing his mistake. For a moment, he thought to deny it. But Jose’s face was awestruck and admiring, and a flutter of vanity made Harry say, “Yeah, that’s right.”
“Cool!” Jose looked delighted. “What do you talk about with them?”
“Well, not much, actually,” Harry admitted. “Snakes mostly just talk about maintaining the right temperature and avoiding danger and eating things. But they find me sometimes, just to say hi.”
“Wow!” Jose stared at him in wonder.
Harry’s pride swelled at his friend’s expression. “That’s not all I can do. Look.” He turned to the pebble castle he’d been building and concentrated. A small pebble rose, wobbling, into the air, and clattered down again.
Jose gaped. “Is that…magic?”
“You bet it is! I’m a wizard.”
“A wizard? Really?” Jose’s eyes were like saucers. “So wizards are real?”
“Yup,” said Harry, flinging all of Severus’s rules to the wind. “I’m a wizard and so’s Stephen.”
“Whoa.” Jose leaned back, trying to process it all. “Can you talk to that snake again?”
“Sure! Let me see if I can’t find him again…” Harry parted the oleander bush where the snake was making himself comfortable in the fallen leaves. “Can you come out again?”
The snake obeyed, as snakes generally obeyed Harry. To Jose’s delighted fascination, Harry made the snake do tricks, slithering and coiling in the dust, all to Harry’s commands in Parseltongue.
Then the front door slammed open.
Both boys jumped and the snake fled, disappearing into the leaves. Severus stood in the doorway, and he was angrier than Harry had ever seen him. His eyes glittered, two red spots blotched his cheeks, and he was breathing hard with fury.
Before either boy could react, Severus stormed down the yard. He yanked out his wand, heedless of any watching Muggles, and jabbed it at Jose. “Obliviate!” he snarled.
The effect was instantaneous and horrible. Jose’s face went blank, his eyes glazed and dreamy. He fell back, smiling slightly, a mindless automaton.
“Jose!” Harry cried, but his friend made no response, just swaying on the spot, gaze unfixed.
Strong hands yanked Harry back. Harry had just enough time to glimpse Severus’s enraged face before Severus brought his hand down and slapped him.
Harry’s head wheeled around at the force of the blow. He gasped in pain and shock. Never, never before had Severus hit him.
“Get in the house,” Severus hissed, his tone of cold fury worse than yelling would have been. Clutching his aching face, Harry stumbled inside while Severus stood over the smiling, oblivious Jose.
Harry hid in his bedroom, waiting for Severus to come back. When he did, it was some hours later and without Jose. Severus stood in Harry’s bedroom door, his eyes cold, his face devoid of either forgiveness or understanding.
“I have taken Jose Ruiz home.” Still in that soft, cold tone, so much worse than open anger. “He does not remember what you showed him today. In fact, he doesn’t remember ever having been your friend at all. You are nothing to him now.”
Harry gasped. “You can’t do that!”
“Oh, yes I can,” Severus ground out. “You did this to yourself, Harry Potter. Through your own stupidity and carelessness you have lost a friend today, and you won’t be getting him back. Let this be a lesson to you, Harry. You cannot let anyone know you are a wizard, let alone a Parselmouth. Ever. To do so is to put both of us in danger. To put the Muggles in danger. Be grateful all I took was Jose’s memory. And remember him, the next time you feel tempted to show off.”
And with that Severus stalked off, leaving Harry alone.
When Harry went to school that Monday, he found all was as Severus had said. Jose Ruiz did not remember ever having been Harry’s friend. Indeed, he seemed to forget Harry even existed. When Harry tried to talk to him, or to play, Jose ignored him, staring through Harry like he was glass, running past him on the playground. That wasn’t all that changed. Jose’s personality seemed to alter, and where once he was friendly and outgoing, he was now quiet and withdrawn. He started having memory issues too: he had difficulty matching names to faces, and sometimes forgot someone’s name entirely, even his own family members’. He was moved to a different class and Harry lost track of him. Three years later, his family moved to Houston.
Severus didn’t bring up the episode again, and neither did Harry. Slowly, their relationship returned to normal, and the incident was put behind them. But Harry had learned his lesson, just as Severus intended: he must never break the rules. He must never reveal the truth of his nature, or Severus’s. If he did, then others would suffer for it.
Harry had no doubt that rule applied to Ginny Weasley and her family.
Harry lay in bed, in the bright, sunny morning, and wondered what Severus would do if Ginny ever learned the truth.
“I’ve done it!” said Hermione to Ginny.
“Hidden away all your spell books?” Ginny looked up from setting the table for dinner with their guests. “And your wand and everything?” It had proven harder than expected, stowing away all magical objects so the Muggles wouldn’t spot anything suspicious.
“No. I mean, yes, I have, but I’ve also written to McGonagall asking for those library books.”
“Really?” said Ginny. “Did you remember which books you needed?”
“Let’s say I took an educated guess,” said Hermione with a wry smile. “I’m looking for an illustration I don’t remember clearly from a book I only vaguely remember reading some time ago, after all. But, at the very least, maybe these new books will have something more about Severus Snape.”
“Still on about that, Hermione?” grinned Ron, heading past with the broom.
Hermione swatted at him with her dust cloth. “Yes, and you might help with the research, you know, instead of just leaving it all to me and Ginny!”
“Look, I don’t want to spend all summer swotting up on obscure Death Eaters and weird curses, all right?” said Ron. “Surfing is much more fun.”
“Yeah, Ronnie, you might actually be able to stand up on your surfboard soon!” George, rocketing by, shoved Ron on the shoulder. He and Fred had been witnesses to the surfing lesson Tomas had given Ron this morning. Rather unsympathetic witnesses: they’d spent the lesson rolling on the sand and howling with laughter at Ron’s attempts.
Ron scowled. “At least Harry wasn’t there.” He aimed his scowl at Ginny. “Kissing people’s sisters.”
“Tomas said Harry wasn’t feeling well,” said Ginny, quite indifferent to his disapproval. “I hope he can make it tonight.”
“Love’s young dreeeeaaammm…” Fred waltzed past, making smoochy-faces at Ginny. She watched him thoughtfully. Then, putting down the final fork, she hurried after her brother into the courtyard.
There the evening air was mild, the sound of waves shushing and peaceful. Fred was cleaning up the flagstones, blowing leaves and dust away with a jet of air from his wand. “What is it, Ginny?” he said without looking up. “Bill said I had to get this cleaned up before our guests arrive. Apparently, I am now a house elf.”
“I’d like to ask you something.” Ginny hesitated, wondering how to go on.
“Ask away.”
“It’s a bit personal…”
Fred looked up at this, expression quizzical. “What’s this all about, Ginny?”
“Were you really snogging a Muggle boy at Pridefest?” Ginny blurted out.
Fred stood back, one eyebrow raised. “Well, excuse me, but weren’t you snogging a Muggle boy at Pridefest?”
Ginny flushed. “You’re right. It’s not my business. I’m sorry.” She turned to go inside.
“No, Ginny…” Fred laid a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Look, I know what you’re asking.” He sighed, running his hands through his hair, serious as he seldom was. “I’m bi, okay? I’m attracted to both men and women. George is the same way.”
Ginny blinked. She’d never once thought of any of her brothers being bisexual, let alone admitting it to her. “Really?”
“Yeah.” Fred gave her a quick, uncomfortable grin. “We’ve known this about ourselves for years. I actually, um, shagged this rather hot Slytherin bloke at the Hogwarts seventh-year commencement party—”
“Yuck, Fred! Too much information!” Then: “You slept with a Slytherin?”
“Look, he was really attractive, okay? And we were both a bit drunk.” Fred’s grin turned into its usual sly, teasing self. “Besides, his dad’s a shareholder at Gringotts Bank. Edward introduced us to his father, and he helped us get a favorable loan so we could open our shop.”
“That’s how you got your loan?” Ginny couldn’t stop staring.
Fred shrugged. “You do what you have to. Especially when you don’t have any startup capital.” His grin faded. “Just…don’t tell Mum and Dad, all right? About any of it.”
“I don’t think they’ll mind,” Ginny said. “I mean, about you being…bi.” Even as she said it, however, she realized she wasn’t certain. Molly and Arthur loved their sons, but the wizarding world was conservative in general and about this issue in particular.
“Well, they’ll certainly take issue with me sleeping with a Slytherin for a bank loan,” said Fred with a flash of his old humor. “But please, Ginny: let me and George handle coming out to our parents. Okay?”
Ginny grinned. The sight of one of the twins being earnest and serious was oddly endearing. “Okay, Fred. I won’t say anything. Gryffindor’s honor.”
There came the crunch of tires outside. “They’re here!” said Ginny. Only too happy to abandon this conversation—and its stunning glimpse into the world of commerce and high finance—Ginny ran out to greet the Muggles.
She didn’t recognize the small turquoise car they’d driven in. The driver’s door opened to emit Miguel, while Maya clambered out of the passenger’s side. The back doors opened and Tomas bounded out. Harry climbed slowly out of the other side, texting away on his phone.
“Maya! Harry!” Ginny waved. “Tomas!”
“Hi, Ginny!” Tomas waved back.
Harry pocketed his phone and looked up to wave. He wasn’t looking too good, Ginny realized: pale under his tan, with dark circles under his eyes, and moving slowly, as though very tired.
She jogged up to him. “Are you all right, Harry?”
“Yeah.” He gave a quick, wan smile. “I was just sick last night, that’s all. Still a bit worn out.”
“Well, come inside and sit down…” Ginny led them all up to the door to the courtyard, where Fred had pocketed his wand and now held out his hand in greeting to Miguel.
“Hello there! Fred Weasley here!” He shook hands with Miguel. “You’re…Miguel, right? From the comics store?”
“Miguel Gomez.” Miguel seemed very relaxed, smiling into Fred’s eyes as they shook hands. His eyes traveled over the courtyard. “So this is the Ghost Rental. It’s actually in better shape than I expected.”
“Yeah, we’re loving it. Let me take you to meet everybody…” Fred led them all indoors.
There a greeting-fest took place, everyone shaking hands and introducing themselves. Ginny kept an eye on Harry. Though he smiled and shook hands with everyone else, he still seemed very tired. But his eyes never stopped moving, looking around the entryway and the living room, investigating every corner. Of course, both Maya and Tomas were doing the same, peering around with great curiosity.
“Wow,” said Tomas. “I’m almost disappointed! I was hoping for creaking floors and chandeliers covered in cobwebs!”
“It’s California, Tomas, not Transylvania,” said Maya, rolling her eyes. To Ginny’s amusement, she leaned up as if to kiss Tomas’s cheek, but, with a quick glance at her father, checked herself.
“I’ve heard there’s some good haunted houses around here, though,” said Ron with enthusiasm. “There’s a place out in the desert Hermione wants to see, isn’t that right, Hermione?”
“It’s an old Spanish place that’s supposedly under a curse,” said Hermione, shooting Ron a quick, reproving glance: they were getting too near forbidden territory here. “Not that I believe in that sort of thing, of course!” she added hastily. “Come on, why don’t you all sit down…?”
“Oui!” called Fleur. “Le diner will be ready in fifteen minutes!”
The Muggles all drifted into the living room, still looking around. Harry sank onto the sofa as if he was very glad to sit down. Ginny sat next to him. Hidden among the cushions, his hand found hers. “Sorry about this,” he murmured. “I guess I’m not being very good company.”
“It’s fine,” she whispered back. “Though you didn’t have to come, you know, if you were sick. I would’ve understood.”
“I’m not feeling that bad. Just tired. And I wanted to see you.”
Ginny’s heart lurched a bit at this, but before she could say anything a high-pitched wheeee sound erupted from Ron’s loft. Everyone turned around to stare up at it quizzically.
“Do you have an electric kettle or something up there?” asked Maya.
Ron’s eyes widened in realization, and he bolted up the ladder. Ginny bit back her own exclamation: Ron’s Sneakoscope! A magical top that was supposed to light up, spin and whistle in the presence of someone untrustworthy.
As Ron hastily shoved his glowing Sneakoscope deep into his trunk, Ginny glanced around. Was one of their guests untrustworthy? It seemed a bit unlikely with this bunch…But she supposed that if Miguel was actually a Squib and lying about it—living a double life as it were—then that could count as untrustworthy. Or had the wizards’ pretense of being Muggles set the Sneakoscope off?
“What was that?” Harry asked curiously when Ron came back down the ladder, crimson around the ears.
“Just some cheap rubbish,” said Ron, honestly enough. “Shall I get the snacks?” He hurried off, still red, to grab the tray of pre-dinner snacks and bring it back to the living room.
“So, Mr. Gomez,” said Bill, when they were all settled with their carrot sticks, celery and crackers. “You run the local comics store, I understand?”
“Yes, with my husband Michael,” said Miguel, biting into a cracker. “He couldn’t make it tonight, I’m afraid—someone had to watch the store.”
“Plus, Dad hates parties!” Maya added, giggling.
Bill blinked a bit at the mention of husband, but rallied quickly. “Are you from around here originally, Mr. Gomez?”
“Miguel, please. And I grew up in Guadalajara, down in Mexico. Well—just outside the city. My family owns land there.”
“What made you decide to emigrate, if you don’t mind my asking?”
“Bill, don’t bother him like this!” Ginny hissed.
“No, it’s fine,” smiled Miguel. “And I left because I was having some issues with my family. And Mexico is…not the greatest place to be gay.”
Ginny eyed him with covert sympathy. If Miguel was indeed a Squib, she could imagine what form the “issues” with his family had taken. The Mexican magical community was known for being conservative and old-fashioned even by wizarding standards. Ginny had some idea of how a wizarding family in Guadalajara would react to a Squib son—especially if he also turned out to be gay.
“Well, it sounds like you’re doing really well here in San Benito!” she said encouragingly.
“Oh, yeah.” Miguel smiled. “I love our life here. Right, mija?” He nudged Maya in the side.
“Papi!” She pushed his hand away, half-laughing.
The conversation moved on to different topics, until Fleur called that dinner was ready. There came a stampede for the dining table, and what with everyone putting food on the table, finding their places, tripping over one another, trying to make room, serving themselves and beginning to eat, it was some time before coherent conversation could resume. Under the hubbub, Harry leaned into Ginny. “I wonder if you could show me the rest of the house sometime?” he murmured. “I’d really like to see it—Tomas and Maya too.”
“Sure, if we can manage it,” said Ginny, thinking that the best thing for Harry, in his current state, would be to go home immediately after dinner and go straight to bed. “But it’s not that special, you know.” If you don’t count the wands, spell books and enchanted objects we spent all afternoon hiding from you people, of course…
“Still. I’d like to see it.”
“…So yes, that’s when we adopted Maya.” Miguel had resumed his discussion of his life history with Bill. “And not long after that, Stephen showed up with Harry, right, Harry?”
All eyes swiveled onto Harry, who squirmed. “I don’t remember any of that.”
“Yeah, Brexit was just a baby when he Brexited Britain!” Tomas laughed aloud, joined by Ron and the twins.
Bill gave them a quelling look. “I understand Stephen is your cousin, Harry?”
“Sort of.” Harry pushed around his food. “We’re more distantly related than that. But he’s all I’ve got. My parents died in a car crash when I was a year old, and there weren’t any other relatives.”
“So what made you and your cousin Brexit, Brexit?” grinned George.
Harry shrugged. “Better opportunities here.” The same answer he’d given her, Ginny recalled.
“Stephen certainly needed some of those when he arrived,” said Miguel in a tone of reminiscence. “I remember when you and he first came to San Benito, Harry. Stephen looked like he hadn’t slept for a month! Real protective of you, too: wouldn’t put you down for a minute. Wouldn’t even let me or Mike hold you, even when you two were staying with us.”
“We stayed with you when we first came here?” Harry seemed surprised. “I didn’t know that.”
“Just for a few weeks. Stephen already had the house lined up, but he had to get the final paperwork done and then get furniture and stuff, and, frankly, he didn’t have a clue how to do any of that. Didn’t have a clue about a lot of things, actually, including taking care of you. Of course, Mike and I were pretty stupid about fatherhood too,” he added with a laugh. “We all taught each other.”
“That sounds lovely,” said Ginny sincerely.
“Yes, very sweet,” said Fleur. “Do you think we may meet your guardian sometime, Harry?” She turned her dazzling smile on Harry.
Harry immediately did his clammed-up-stick act—though maybe his bulging eyes were due to Fleur-induced shock. “Uh—maybe. He’s—not very sociable.”
“Well, not everyone is,” said Bill, and the conversation moved on. Harry, Ginny noticed, relaxed back with a long sigh of relief. He also seemed to be texting again under the tablecloth.
After dinner, while the adults all went outside with drinks, Ginny kept her promise and gave Harry, Tomas and Maya a quick tour of the rental, Ron and Hermione in tow. “It’s not very big,” she said, finishing in hers and Hermione’s bedroom. “But it’s been really nice staying here.”
“Ow!” Maya tripped over a book that had fallen from the shelf. “Sorry about that!” She bent over and picked it up. “The Rise and Fall of the Dark Lord? Is this some kind of fantasy novel?”
Ron, Hermione and Ginny all exchanged panicked looks. When stowing away her magical books, Hermione had opted to hide them in plain sight, lined up on their shelves like ordinary books. But George had cast a clever charm to disguise their spines, so they all read things like Trigonometry 101 and A Beginner’s Guide to Coding. But George hadn’t bothered to disguise the front covers—and now the Muggles were all gathering around for a closer look.
Tomas reached out to knock on the tooled-leather cover. “Cool! This looks like a real spell book or something. Did you get it from a Ren Faire?”
“The Rise and Fall of the Dark Lord…” Harry wore a deep, puzzled frown as he read the undisguised title.
“Give that here!” Hermione yanked the book out of Maya’s grasp just as she was starting to open it. “Sorry!” said Hermione, hugging the book to her chest. “But this book is special to me.”
“Sorry!” Maya threw her hands up. “It just looked interesting, that’s all.”
“Look, why don’t we all go outside?” said Ron desperately. “I bet they’ll let us have wine if we ask nicely.”
“Really? Wine? Cool!” Tomas bounded eagerly out, followed by Harry and Maya. Hermione hastily shoved the book back onto the shelf before she, Ginny and Ron headed out as well.
“That was a close one!” Ginny whispered to Hermione.
“Too close.” Hermione’s face was ashen. “Let’s not invite them back here, Ginny.”
Ginny said nothing in reply to this. Harry was drifting within earshot, trailing behind his friends. Ginny eyed him apprehensively. But she didn’t think he’d heard anything: he still wore that puzzled frown and seemed preoccupied, staring into space.
Ginny quickened her steps, catching up to him. “Something the matter, Harry?”
He shook off his reverie with a visible effort. “No, it’s okay. I think I’m just tired, that’s all. I’d better go home soon.”
“Yes.” Ron loomed over him. “Stop breathing germs on my sister.”
Harry backed up a little. “I don’t think it’s contagious!”
“Oh, stop it, Ron. Come on, Harry…” Ginny took Harry’s arm, leading him outside and away from incriminating books, wands and Sneakoscopes.