Chapter 24
Ginny sat in the baking-hot alleyway and held Harry in her arms while he wept. Her head spun. This wasn’t just some Muggle kid she’d been dating over her summer holidays. This wasn’t even some wizard kid. This was Harry Potter, the baby who had disappeared the night the Dark Lord fell, the key to the Potter Mystery, the downfall of the most evil wizard of all time—and he was a skinny teenager shaking with emotion in her arms, hurt and betrayed beyond measure by the man who’d raised him.
At last Harry pulled away, wiping angrily at his eyes. “Dammit,” he muttered. “Goddammit.”
Ginny bit her lip, trying to nerve herself up enough to ask, Is your guardian’s real name Severus Snape? But Harry’s face was still white as marble, eyes like pits, and Ginny couldn’t bring herself to throw any more painful questions at him.
Harry’s phone suddenly buzzed.
Both of them jerked and cried out. Harry swore and wrestled his phone from his pocket. He looked into the screen and groaned. “Oh, God, it’s like he can read my mind without Legilimency…”
“Who?” Ginny asked, though she already knew who it must be.
Sure enough: “It’s Stephen. He says to come home right after work and not even think of going to see you.” Harry lowered his head into his hands. “Shit, what am I going to do?”
Ginny took a breath. “Harry…who is your guardian, really?”
Harry shot her a look—suspicion, fear—and set his mouth in a thin line.
“Still can’t tell me?” Ginny asked. Harry shook his head.
She let out a long, exasperated breath. “Well, you can’t go home like this. He’ll know right away something’s up. Why don’t you come back to the rental with me?”
“He told me not to.”
“He won’t know.” Ginny got to her feet. “Let’s go right now.”
“I’ll get in trouble with Los Dos.”
“More trouble than you’re already in?”
At this, Harry almost smiled. “Okay, then.” He let Ginny pull him to his feet.
They half-ran down the alleyway, emerging onto the busy street. Ginny realized she was still holding Harry’s hand, but didn’t let go. She drew him along to where Bill had parked the car and then parked Fleur and himself in a nearby bar. “Bill! Fleur!” Ginny waved madly through the open front of the bar. Bill looked up, nodded and waved back, and soon he and Fleur were coming out, carrying their drinks with them.
“Ginny? What’s going on?” Bill finished off his beer and peered at Harry. “You okay, Harry?”
“He’s…had a shock,” said Ginny, which was probably the understatement of the century. “Listen, we really need to get back to the rental. Right now.”
“Him too?” Fleur angled a glance at Harry.
“Him especially,” said Ginny.
Bill and Fleur glanced at each other, looked at Harry, then back at each other. Fleur gave a small shrug, and Bill sighed. “All right, get in the car, both of you.”
It was a quiet drive back to the rental. Ginny and Harry sat in back, Ginny’s eyes flicking to him every few minutes. Harry slumped against the window, staring out to sea. Judging by the blank look in his eyes, though, Ginny doubted whether he actually saw anything.
Back home, the smell of the sea vied with the scent of dust hanging in the hot, still air. The door opened the moment the car parked and Hermione came rushing out. “Ginny!” she cried. “Ginny, I figured out who Harry reminded me of—oh!” She skidded to a halt when Harry himself came out, face still pale and set.
“Hermione, it’s—it’s okay,” said Ginny, aware of Bill and Fleur’s eyes boring into her. “Why don’t we all go inside?” Harry was already heading in, with the dogged determination of a wounded animal trailing toward its den.
“Ginny, what’s this about?” Hermione hissed, following Harry in.
Ginny closed her eyes at the impossibility of this question. “Are your parents in?”
“No, they went for a walk. Ginny, what’s happening?”
Ginny dodged the question again. “Do you still have those books from school?”
“Of course,” said Hermione, puzzled. “That’s where I found the illustration…” She shot a glance ahead at Harry and closed her mouth.
Once inside, Ginny grabbed hold of Harry’s arm, hauling him down the corridor to her and Hermione’s bedroom. “Ginny…!” Hermione ran after them.
Ginny wanted to keep Hermione out but couldn’t see how to do so. Any cunning she might have had, or even basic self-preservation, seemed smothered right now. Hermione hovered over her and Harry as they went inside.
Ginny spotted the book on Hermione’s desk, open to the correct page like a curse. She lifted it up and showed Harry the illustration: a happy young couple in a moving photograph, a man and woman, embracing and laughing in a fall of yellow leaves.
“Are these your parents?” Ginny asked.
Harry stared down at the photo, the pretty woman with dark red hair, the man who looked so much like himself. “That’s my mother,” he said quietly. “And…I guess that’s my dad.” He brushed the photo with a fingertip. “I didn’t know I looked like him,” he whispered. “Sev—Stephen didn’t tell me.”
Hermione sucked in a hissing breath. “You’re…you’re Harry Potter? You’re the boy who disappeared?”
Harry half-fell into the desk chair, still holding the book, still staring at the photograph. “Yeah.” He swallowed. “Yeah, I am.”
“Holy…” Hermione’s eyes widened. She staggered back, sitting on the edge of the bed. “What…? But…how?”
“Stephen brought me here.” Harry’s eyes were still fixed on the page. “After my parents died. He—he told me the Dark Lord still ruled the magical world. He said we had to live in hiding. He—lied.”
“Oh, Harry…” Hermione’s gaze softened with pity. “I’m so sorry.”
“Harry…your guardian…” Ginny moistened her lips, nerving herself up. “His real name’s not Severus Snape, is it?”
Harry jerked so hard the book slid off his lap onto the floor. “What! How’d you know that?”
“I heard you shouting his name when he collapsed at the Shakespeare show,” Ginny said. “And he’s in the books too. Harry…Severus Snape was a Death Eater.”
“No!” Harry lurched to his feet, eyes huge. “That’s impossible! I don’t care what else Stephen’s done, he hates the Dark Lord! He’d never be a Death Eater!”
“Dark Lords? Death Eaters?” The door opened and Ron poked his head in. “What’s going on in here?”
Ginny sighed. “Close the door, Ron.”
Still looking puzzled, Ron did so. Ginny gestured between him and Harry. “Ron, this is Harry Potter. He’s a wizard in hiding who’s been raised by a former Death Eater.”
“Blimey, really?” Ron reeled back, staring like Harry had grown a second head.
“Stephen was never a Death Eater,” Harry said stubbornly. “He fought against the Dark Lord!”
“Maybe he turned against You-Know-Who in the end,” said Hermione thoughtfully. “The books do say he might have been a double agent. But look, Harry…” She got up to fetch The Rise and Fall of the Dark Lord, flipping through it until she found the relevant page with the blurb about Severus Snape.
Ginny watched the blood drain from Harry’s face as he read the blurb about Severus Snape. “No,” he whispered, so wretchedly that Ginny wished she’d never brought him back here, never shown him this book. “No, it’s not possible…”
“Yes, it is, Harry.” Ginny thought back to the conversation she’d overheard at Hogwarts so long ago. The conversation about Dark objects, and a boy. “I don’t think he’s a Death Eater anymore,” she added quickly to that same boy. “He’s working with Professor Dumbledore these days.”
She recalled more of that conversation: “You remember your vow, Dumbledore. You just remember what you promised me. I will do your bidding, but the boy is mine.” Ginny shivered. However Harry had ended up in Severus Snape’s keeping, it sounded like Dumbledore had been in on it from the beginning. Had Harry been handed over as payment? A child in exchange for Snape’s obedience, his help in tracking down those mysterious Dark objects. What a ruthless and sickening bargain. What a brutal thing to do to an innocent baby.
“What?” Harry looked more bewildered than ever. “Who’s Professor Dumbledore?”
“The Headmaster at our school,” Hermione explained.
“Yeah, Ginny overheard Dumbledore and Snape talking about tracking down cursed Dark objects!” said Ron, looking far happier and more excited than Ginny felt he had any right to be. His bright, avid eyes were fixed on Harry.
“Cursed Dark objects…” For some reason, this seemed to disturb Harry even further. “Ginny…one of them’s here!”
“Here?” An almost physical pain stabbed Ginny in the head. A Dark object…here? For some reason, she found herself exchanging glances with Ron, who was also wincing, as though he felt the same pain.
Hermione looked between Ron and Ginny with dawning dismay. “Oh, no. What have you two done?”
"Why do you assume we’ve done anything?” Ron demanded indignantly.
At that very moment, the doorbell rang, echoing through the house. All four teenagers jumped, then froze, listening to Bill’s footsteps as he went to answer it. Slowly, Ginny crept over to the bedroom door, cracking it open just in time to hear Bill’s surprised exclamation: “Professor Dumbledore! What brings you here?”
Harry looked ready to faint. Ron, Hermione and Ginny all exchanged astonished, panicked glances.
“Ah, Mr. Weasley.” Dumbledore’s pleasant, mellow tones were calm. “Professor Lupin and I came here to—get down, Sirius!” A whining yelp, and the sound of dog claws clattering against the floor.
“Sorry,” said another voice, one Ginny recognized as belonging to Remus Lupin, last year’s Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. He sounded somewhat harassed. “We didn’t mean to bring the dog, but he insisted on tagging along.”
“Bill, who are these?” Fleur’s voice floated out.
“Oh—sorry. Fleur, may I present Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School. Headmaster, this is Fleur Delacour, my fiancée.”
“A pleasure,” Dumbledore said warmly. Footsteps, and the adults’ voices all grew louder and clearer: the unexpected guests had fully entered the house. “May I introduce Professor Remus Lupin, until recently our Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher—”
“Professor!” Bill cut him off. “I’m sorry, but be careful! My sister has her Muggle boyfriend in the house.”
“Oh, does she?” Dumbledore sounded more amused than anything else. “Well, we’ll make this quick. We’re here about some lost school property that we believe may have found its way into young Ronald’s possession.”
“School property?” Bill’s voice rose in alarm. “Ron?”
“Don’t worry, Ronald is not in trouble with me or the school,” Dumbledore said. “I’m sure it was all done in a spirit of innocence and curiosity. However, this item is potentially dangerous and so I’m afraid I must look through Ronald’s possessions and confiscate it—”
Ron let out a strangled noise and bolted out the door. “Ron!” Hermione ran after him.
Ginny looked at Harry. “Perhaps we’d better stay here,” she whispered. “Until they’re gone.”
Slowly, Harry shook his head. “No.” There was a strange, crazed glitter in his eyes. “No, I want to see this Dumbledore.”
And before Ginny could stop him, he was throwing down the book and striding out the bedroom and down the hall.
Ginny cursed and ran after him. Harry didn’t look back, but strode unhesitating into the crowded living room.
Everyone turned to stare at them, a strange, frozen tableau. Ron had obviously been in the process of protesting this invasion to Dumbledore: he stood facing the Headmaster, Hermione tugging back at his arm. Bill and Fleur were both hovering over Ron. Dumbledore himself stood back, looking bizarre in a Muggle suit as opposed to his usual sweeping robes. Behind him waited a nervous Remus Lupin in a similar outfit, while a large black dog crouched at his feet. Everyone, even the dog, was staring at Harry with expressions ranging from astounded to horrified.
Harry himself broke the silence. “Are you Professor Dumbledore?” he demanded, glowering at Dumbledore.
Dumbledore raised his blackened, ruined right hand. “We meet at last, Mr. Potter.”
This shattered the stillness. Everyone started talking at once:
“What—? Potter—?” Lupin choked out, face the color of cheese.
“How do you know him, Professor?” Hermione asked.
“What is happening?” Fleur demanded, literal sparks of frustration shooting off her magical hair. “Who is this boy?”
“He’s Harry Potter!” Ron told her, grinning with excitement.
“What!” Bill looked more confused than ever.
“Please—!” Ginny cried, hardly knowing what she was pleading for.
Even the dog joined in the cacophony, barking loudly and racing up to throw its front paws onto Harry’s chest, yelping into his face.
“Get off!” Harry yelled, pushing the animal away. “How do you know me?” he shouted at Dumbledore over the noise. “How do you know Severus?”
“Who is this kid?” Bill demanded of Dumbledore.
“Harry Potter…” Lupin looked ready to faint, swaying on his feet and staring at Harry. “James’s son.”
“Whose son?” Bill bellowed in frustration.
Naturally, Hermione’s parents chose that very moment to open the front door and come inside. They froze in the doorway to the living room, transfixed by the chaos within. “What’s going on here?” Geoffrey shouted above the noise.
There came a noise like a gunshot. Everyone jerked and yelped, then turned to stare at Dumbledore. He had his wand in hand, still smoking.
“If everyone will please calm down,” he said into the silence. “Sirius, please get off Mr. Potter. Let us all take a seat, and I shall explain the current situation to the best of my ability.”
“No.” Harry’s fists were clenched. He glared at Dumbledore like a feral dog at bay, trembling with emotion. “You’re working with Severus, aren’t you? How do I know you won’t lie to me?”
“My dear Mr. Potter.” Dumbledore gave him a sad, strange smile. “There really is no point to lies now, is there?”
At that very moment, there came the sound of a car screeching to a halt outside the house. Then car doors opening and slamming shut in quick succession. Multiple footsteps, heading for the house.
“Oh, no,” Ginny whispered. “What now?”
In response to her question, the door flew open. Three men entered, almost at a run. Ginny recognized Mike and Miguel, Miguel holding his tortoiseshell cat in his arms. The third man was a stranger: a tall, thin, sallow-faced figure with black hair and black eyes, dressed in jeans and a black t-shirt. This stranger was leading the charge, practically lunging into the house.
He stormed directly into the living room, pushing aside Geoffrey and Ellen. He spared not a glance for the Weasleys, for Dumbledore, for Lupin or the dog. Indeed, Ginny doubted he even saw any of them. All his attention was utterly riveted on Harry, his blazing eyes fixed on the boy.
“HARRY!” he yelled. “HARRY, WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS?!”
Harry stood rigid, staring at the stranger. Ginny wanted to intervene, to say something, anything that would defuse this bomb waiting to go off, but she could not. Between Harry and the dark-haired stranger crackled an energy stronger than any magic, a bond deeper than anything Ginny had ever witnessed. She could practically see the cord vibrating between the two, inviolate and unbreakable. No one, not even Dumbledore, could do or say anything to interfere. No one could even move. They could only stand and wait for Harry’s response.
At last Harry spoke. “No more lies, Severus.”