Chapter 20
“You know, you didn’t have to come,” Harry muttered to the blond man striding along beside him along the crowded clifftop pedestrian path. “It’s just Shakespeare in the Park. It’s not even after dark.”
“I want to see the Weasleys for myself,” said his companion. A breeze blew up, scented with salt, and he turned to gaze out to sea, pale eyes traveling to the endless blue horizon. “And I don’t mind watching Shakespeare either.”
Despite his trepidation, Harry couldn’t help grinning. “You and your Shakespeare, Severus.”
“Mr. Markham, if you please,” said Severus, curving the blond stranger’s mouth into a Severus-smile. “I am your summer math tutor, remember.”
Harry’s grin faded as he beheld once again the face Severus had borrowed. Christ, but Polyjuice Potion was disconcerting. Severus had stolen some hairs from a blond tourist of about his height and build, and now wore the man’s face and body, an impenetrable disguise. He carried more Polyjuice in a water canteen. It was very weird to see Severus’s expressions on a stranger’s face, Severus’s way of moving compressed into foreign limbs.
Harry stepped aside to let a trio of bicyclists pass by before leaning close to Severus. “Stephen—Mr. Markham, I mean. I want to walk out on the pier with Ginny before the play starts. We’re supposed to meet there pretty soon, actually.”
“And you don’t want me along?” Severus raised a very Severus-like eyebrow on the tourist’s face. “Well, fair enough, I suppose. I’ll let you go meet her alone. But I’ll be waiting at the head of the pier, and we’re all going to the play together.”
“Thanks, Sev—Mr. Markham.” It was surprisingly difficult, remembering Severus’s new false name in this new guise.
They wove their way through the crowds of pedestrians along the clifftop promenade, sometimes winding among multi-million dollar vacation houses perched on the cliffside and sometimes veering along the edge of the cliff itself. Drought-tolerant plants clung to the eroded slope below and the beach stretched golden-brown. It was a busy evening on the promenade, and there was an even greater flurry of activity at the recreational pier. The amphitheater stood on the beach at the pier’s head, and people were already descending the staircase to choose their seats. The cement stage had been scrubbed clean and decked with banners advertising the two shows performing today: A Midsummer Night’s Dream and The Tempest.
“Midsummer Night’s Dream again,” Severus grumbled, folding the blond stranger’s face in a very Severus-like scowl. “That play is definitely overperformed.”
“I guess everyone loves fairies,” said Harry. He nudged Severus with an elbow. “And it just goes to show what I said: Shakespeare was a fantasy writer!”
“Shakespeare was a genius,” Severus said loftily. “And you know what to do when you meet with Miss Weasley tonight?”
“Get another invite to their house and then cast the Dark detection charm when I’m there.” Harry and Severus had spent every evening this week drilling in the charm. Harry had also practiced walking around with his hand on his wand in his pocket, trying not to look too obvious.
“And when you do find the One Ring?” Severus said.
“I don’t touch it, but note down its location and tell you.” Harry paused. “But seriously, Severus, what are you going to do with it?”
“Nothing. I’m going to call my contacts and they will take it away and destroy it. And we will return to our lives, as though none of it ever happened.” There was a wistful note in Severus’s voice, as though he wished sincerely that none of it ever had.
Harry couldn’t enter into Severus’s feelings. It was nice to think of the One Ring being destroyed and striking a blow against the Dark Lord, of course, but the thought of everything going back to the way it was—like nothing had ever happened—was unexpectedly depressing. Harry was really enjoying his friendship with the Weasleys, even Ron. And the thought of Ginny leaving forever was miserable.
She’d be leaving anyway, he reminded himself. She’s a tourist. At least this way she’ll be safe from the One Ring.
Then, as though his thoughts had conjured her, Harry spotted the bright spot of Ginny’s hair up ahead through the crowd, her slender form waiting at the head of the pier. “There she is!”
Severus slowed to a halt. “I’ll leave you here, then. Enjoy your walk with Miss Weasley, but be careful. I’ll see you when the play starts.”
“Okay, Sev—Mr. Markham. See you!” Harry left Severus by the ice cream vendor and ran up ahead toward the pier.
Ginny turned at his approach, and her smile was like the sun coming out. “Harry!” She ran to greet him, and he caught her up in an embrace. Her flowery scent washed over him, and, forgetting all else, he bent down and kissed her, laughing and joyous, in the middle of the crowd.
They broke away at last and just gazed at each other, grinning and goofy. Then Harry felt a pair of eyes boring into him like daggers from behind, and remembered that Severus could still see them.
“Who’s that?” Ginny was craning around him. “Does that guy know you?”
“Yeah,” said Harry, the back of his neck heating up under Severus’s glare. “That’s, uh, Mr. Markham. He’s tutoring me in math for a couple of weeks.” He and Severus had settled on this story beforehand.
"Really?” Ginny looked horrified. “But it’s the summer holidays!”
“Yeah, well…” Harry grimaced. “Stephen got my last report card, what can I say? He wasn’t pleased.”
“Oh.” Ginny smiled sympathetically. “I know how that goes. My exam results should be arriving in a few weeks.” She shivered as if cold. “I think I did well. I mean, I hope I did.”
“I’m sure you did,” said Harry. “You’re really smart, Ginny.”
“Thanks, Harry,” she said, smiling nervously. “These exams are really important. They can determine my career later and everything.”
“Sounds nasty,” said Harry, making a mental note to ask Severus about this later. “But let’s forget about them for now, huh?”
He wrapped an arm around Ginny’s shoulders. They stepped onto the broad pier, the wooden slats creaking slightly under their feet. San Benito’s recreational pier was a tall, grand thing, broad and high, extending far out over the water. Many other couples were walking along it on this fine evening—including Tomas and Maya, waving at Harry and Ginny and hurrying over.
“Hey, Harry!” Maya gave him a quick hug. “Are you and Stephen coming to the play?”
“Oh, yeah,” Harry said, before he caught himself. “Well—I am. Stephen couldn’t make it.”
“Really?” Maya raised an eyebrow. “He’s actually skipping Shakespeare in the Park?”
“What?” said Ginny. “Does Stephen really love Shakespeare or something?”
“Adores him,” said Maya. “Stephen and my dads used to take me and Harry to Shakespeare in the Park when we were, like, three years old, remember, Harry?”
“Oh, yeah.” Harry chuckled in fond memory. “We’d spend the whole time asking what the actors’ lines meant.”
“Glad my parents didn’t make me do that!” laughed Tomas. “C’mon, let’s walk along the pier.”
Tomas and Maya strolled off ahead, Tomas’s arm around Maya’s waist, her head against his shoulder. Ginny, snuggled against Harry, grinned up at them. “They sure seem happy, don’t they?”
“Yeah. I’m a little surprised, actually,” Harry admitted. “I had them down as platonic friends for so long. Tomas actually asked my permission to date Maya, can you believe it?”
“Why, what was he worried about?” They were progressing further along the pier, the waves rolling in great blue combers beneath them.
“That I’d do the overprotective big brother act, I think.” Harry winced, thinking of Ron. He looked around. “Speaking of big brothers…”
Ginny laughed, correctly interpreting his glance. “Don’t worry, he and Hermione are out with Hermione’s parents right now.”
“Oh, her parents are here now?” Harry wondered if they’d arrived by Portkey.
“Yeah, their plane came into San Diego yesterday.”
Hermione’s parents had come by plane? Were they Muggles? Or was Ginny lying? Damn, I wish I could just ask her… “Cool,” he said instead. “I’ll have to say hi later.” Then, sensing an opportunity: “Maybe I can come to the beach house later this week and say hello properly.”
“Sounds good. I’ll text you.” Ginny nudged him. “Maybe you can show them that medieval-guy-with-a-frying-pan you drew in the fantasy drawing class.”
“It wasn’t a frying pan, it was a boomerang,” Harry said with as much dignity as he could muster. Fantasy drawing class last Tuesday with Ginny had been fun, but definitely not productive—at least not in terms of artistic output. “Just because you’re a natural at fan art…”
Ginny smirked. “Shadowhunters are my new favorites.” She had started The Mortal Instruments series and, just as Harry had predicted, she loved it. “Too bad I can’t get black leather gear at Hog—at school. I could dress up as Clary Fray for Halloween.”
“You’ve got the right hair.” Harry admired how the setting sun teased golden highlights in her red hair.
They headed further out to sea. The water smoothed and flattened out below them, further from shore, bright blue on this bright evening. Ginny tossed back her hair, closing her eyes under the breeze’s caress. “Oh, this is wonderful.”
“You’re not sick of how hot it gets around here yet?” Harry teased.
“Nope. I spend most of my time up in Scotland, where it gets quite seriously cold.” Ginny waved her arm in an airy, theatrical gesture. “This is lovely.”
“Hey, you Brits! Hurry up!” Tomas yelled further up the pier, Maya perched on the railing beside him. They both laughed and waved. “Lovebirds!”
“They’re still pretty platonic, aren’t they?” murmured Ginny in amusement. “But I guess not every relationship has to be so intense.”
“Oh, platonic friendships can be pretty intense,” said Harry without thinking. “Stephen and my mom—” He closed his mouth.
Ginny shot him a look. “What?”
Harry hesitated. But they had left Severus far behind and despite the bustling crowd, the pier felt safe somehow, like the ocean would keep any secrets. And he found he really wanted to tell Ginny something about him and Severus that wasn’t entirely a lie.
“Stephen was best friends with my mom,” he said. “They knew each other as kids and grew up together. When she died, she wanted him to be my guardian. He—he still talks about her. All the time. He still really misses her.”
“Oh.” Ginny was quiet a moment. “That’s sad. But kind of nice too. That he loved her so much.”
“Yeah.” Harry had to smile a little. “I’ve got her eyes, Stephen says.”
“What about your dad? Was Stephen friends with him too?” They were almost level with Tomas and Maya.
Harry remembered that awful scene: “I will not discuss James Potter with you, now or ever!” He shook his head. “I don’t think so.”
They caught up with Tomas and Maya, and the rest of their stroll out to the end of the pier was spent in a whirl of happy banter, the earlier somber mood dissolved. This lasted until they got back to the waterfront and Harry spotted Severus talking to Bill and Fleur by the ice cream stand.
He stopped dead. Of course, Severus was still under the influence of Polyjuice Potion, but to someone who knew Severus as well as Harry did, even the way he stood and held his arms, his facial expressions, were all instantly recognizable. It gave Harry quite a turn to see his guardian talking to the visiting wizards so casually: like the two disparate halves of his life were coming bizarrely together. And Severus Snape, talking to wizards…utterly weird.
Tomas caught up, tapping Harry’s shoulder and pointing Severus out. “Hey, Brexit, who’s that gringo?”
Harry blinked, even more disoriented. Tomas knew Severus, didn’t he? With an almost physical effort, Harry wrenched his thoughts together. Polyjuice Potion. Mr. Markham. Right. “That’s Mr. Markham. Stephen hired him as my math tutor.”
“A tutor?” Tomas gasped in horror. “In the summer? Man, I knew Stephen was a sadist, but—”
“Oh, shut up,” Harry said, swatting at him. “He’s not a sadist. It’s just some math lessons for a week or so. Let’s go say hi.”
They headed over, Ginny waving to Bill and Fleur. Severus turned, his eyes snapping onto Harry’s hand, still holding Ginny’s. Harry resisted the urge to snatch his hand away. He wasn’t doing anything wrong.
“Hi there!” said Bill. “How was the pier?”
“Very nice!” said Ginny. She turned her kilowatt smile on Severus. “Hello there! I’m Ginny Weasley, visiting from Britain. Harry says you’re his math tutor?”
“John Markham.” Severus inclined his head, lying without effort. “I’m giving Harry extra lessons for a week. His guardian asked that I accompany him to the show.”
“Now that’s going the extra mile!” Maya laughed, giving Severus her hand to shake. “Maya Smith-Gomez. I’m Harry’s friend; he might’ve mentioned me. My dads are this year’s sponsors for the show!”
“So I heard,” smiled Severus. “I was just talking to Bill and Fleur here about their stay here in San Benito. Sounds like quite the trip.”
“We are taking it slow, as you Americans say,” said Fleur, flicking her long, silky hair back. “Taking the time to relax.”
“That seems like much the best way to enjoy California. Shall we go find seats, before they’re all taken?”
They headed down the stairs to the amphitheater in a large, chattering herd. Harry didn’t say much. He still felt utterly discombobulated, watching Severus-who-was-not-Severus making amiable chatter with Bill and Fleur, even directing polite remarks to Maya, Tomas and Ginny. Who knew Polyjuice Potion was so disorienting?
Harry thought back to Severus’s revelation that he’d been a spy for the Order of the Phoenix. Watching Severus at work among the Weasleys, that was now a lot easier to believe.
“Harry?” Ginny looked up at him, brown eyes wide. “Are you okay?”
Harry forced a grin. “Yeah. Just…going to see Shakespeare in the Park with my summer tutor. Weird, you know?” Up ahead, Severus took another swig of Polyjuice Potion from his water bottle.
“Oh, it’ll be fun.” She nudged him playfully. “Maybe we can sit away from him.”
"Yeah, maybe,” said Harry, thinking that Severus would have a fit if he tried.
Sure enough, Severus managed to steer them all onto the same bench in the amphitheater, somehow getting Bill on his right side and Harry on his left. On Harry’s other side, Ginny scowled a bit. “Maybe we can go sit with Ron and Hermione.” She scanned the amphitheater. “Look, there they are!” She waved, and Hermione waved back, sitting with Ron and two older people Harry thought must be her parents.
“Too late now,” Harry replied. “We’re all hemmed in.” He found her hand and squeezed it. “Let’s just watch the show.”
On Harry’s other side, Severus looked over and raised an eyebrow. “Is my very presence so inhibiting?”
“Sorry, Se—Mr. Markham.” Harry tried a grin. “This just wasn’t how I was expecting to watch Shakespeare in the Park.”
“I’m afraid your guardian’s word is law, Harry,” Severus said serenely. He looked past Harry to Ginny. “Have you ever seen A Midsummer Night’s Dream, Miss Weasley? Or The Tempest?”
Ginny shifted under his hard scrutiny. “I’m afraid not.”
“A pity. But at least tonight you should see an excellent production.” Severus fell quiet a moment, eyes flicking between Ginny and Harry. “What sort of school do you attend back in Britain, Miss Weasley?”
“Um, a boarding school,” said Ginny with an uncertain smile. “Up in Scotland.”
“Very fancy. But they don’t teach you Shakespeare?”
“Sev—Mr. Markham!” Harry glared, wishing he dared kick Severus. “Sorry,” he said to Ginny, face flaming with embarrassment. “He’s not usually like this.” He shot another glare at Severus.
Ginny tossed her hair back. “It’s a very exclusive school,” she said haughtily. “With a specialized curriculum.”
“I can imagine,” said Severus, a strange edge in his voice.
Harry turned another glower on him and mouthed, What are you doing? Severus’s face, looking back, was inscrutable, but in his borrowed eyes glowed a trace of strange anger. Did Severus really disapprove of Ginny that much?
At that moment, the show’s director came on stage and everyone started applauding. Not at all sorry to look away, Harry turned to applaud with the rest of the audience and then the show began.
Overperformed or not, Harry still loved A Midsummer Night’s Dream. Ginny seemed to enjoy it too: she held his hand throughout, snuggled close, her laughter vibrated through them both at the antics of the fairies and the lost Athenian youths. Harry soon forgot Severus’s darting glances, laughing along with Ginny, both of them caught up in the enchantment woven on the stage.
“That was great!” exclaimed Ginny when the play ended and the half-hour break before the next show began. “I loved Oberon and Titania!”
Severus actually thawed a little at this, eyeing Ginny with something that was not exactly approval, but perhaps an acknowledgement that the teenage witch wasn’t entirely beyond redemption. “Since once I sat upon a promontory,” he recited:
“And heard a mermaid on a dolphin’s back
Uttering such dulcet and harmonious breath,
That the rude sea grew civil at her song,
And certain stars shot madly from their spheres
To hear the sea-maid’s music.”
Ginny blinked, staring. “Wow, Mr. Markham. You’re really good.”
“Isn’t he?” said Harry proudly. “He knows lots of Shakespeare, don’t you, Sev—Mr. Markham?”
“Really?” Bill craned over, looking amused. “Do you teach Harry Shakespeare as well as math, Mr. Markham?”
“Shakespeare is one of my passions,” said Severus, managing to sound utterly serene and shoot Harry a warning glare at the same time. “It shouldn’t be long until the next play starts. The Tempest is one of my favorites.”
“Mine too!” said Harry. “But excuse me right now, I need the men’s room…”
He made his way through the crowd to join the line to the men’s restroom. He wasn’t entirely surprised to find Severus joining him.
“You know, I’m surprised you like The Tempest so well,” Harry said while they waited. “Since you hate fantasy so much.”
“Shakespeare is an exception.” The line inched forward a little. “And I find I rather identify with Prospero these days. The wizard in exile, wreaking revenge on his enemies.”
“Well, I hope you’re not going to wreak anything on the Weasleys,” said Harry, only half joking.
“The Weasleys aren’t our enemies,” said Severus with a thin smile.
The line moved up a little more. “So if you’re Prospero,” said Harry, “does that make me Miranda?”
“I’m hardly planning to shipwreck a prince for you, Harry.” Then, in light mockery: “Why do you ask? What seest thou else in the dark backward and abysm of time?”
A strange shiver ran along Harry’s spine. For a moment, he almost did see something: a vague shadow of a memory, gone before he could grasp it. A graveyard, a large black dog…But it vanished. “Not much,” he admitted. “And honestly, Stephen, you’ve always seemed more like Hamlet than Prospero to me.”
“Hamlet?” Severus sounded surprised.
“Yeah, you’ve got the dark emo prince thing going on, only if he’d run off to America and become a chemist for hire instead of blundering around the castle getting everyone killed…”
Severus aimed a light swat at him, which Harry ducked, sniggering. “Wretched boy.”
They emerged from the men’s room at more or less the same time and started heading back to the amphitheater together. Harry spotted Ginny just emerging from the women’s room and waved. She waved back, grinning.
At that moment, Severus’s right hand shot up to clutch his left elbow and, with a grunt of pain and surprise, he half-collapsed on Harry.
“Severus!” Harry staggered, trying to hold Severus up. “Severus, what’s the matter?”
“Mr. Markham!” Ginny came running up, all concern. “Mr. Markham, are you all right?”
Mr. Markham. Harry’s beleaguered brain processed this. Right. Severus was Mr. Markham right now. He was also hissing with pain and still clutching his left arm. “Mr. Markham!” Harry cried. People were stopping to peer at them, frowning and murmuring in concern.
“What happened?” Ginny was white-faced.
“I don’t know, he just collapsed—”
“I’m fine.” Severus straightened, taking one deep breath, then another. His borrowed face was white, with sweat rolling down his forehead, but he was breathing easier now, the pain seeming to pass. “Thank you, Miss Weasley, but there’s no need to be alarmed. Are you all right, Harry?” He looked at Harry in concern, as though he’d been the one to collapse.
“I’m good,” Harry said, still staring. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine!” Perhaps Severus didn’t mean for it to come out quite as loud and emphatic as it did. Harry and Ginny both stepped back, eyes wide, and Severus modulated his tone immediately. “My apologies. But there’s no need for concern, really. Let’s go back to our seats. They’re about to start the next play.”
Severus shepherded Harry and Ginny before him, so there was no chance for them to confer, but only exchange confused frowns. What had that been? Harry wondered. Why would Severus’s arm suddenly hurt like that?
Then Harry remembered that this had happened before. Not this bad, but Severus had clutched his left arm just like that only a few weeks ago. And there had been a dark bruise there, almost like an old tattoo…
Was Severus not telling him something?
And—Harry’s heart thumped—had Ginny just heard Harry shouting Severus’s real name in public?