Ginny wondered if she was going to have a heart attack.

Her breathing was loud and harsh in her ears, echoing strangely. She could not take her eyes off Harry, holding his wand before him in defensive position, green eyes huge, staring at her like she was a dementor escaped from Azkaban.

Ginny had thought there was something weird about Harry's story of forgetting his phone—Harry, whose phone was never far from his hand. True to her resolve to investigate any suspicious behavior, Ginny waited until Harry was well on his way back to the house before telling Hermione she needed the bathroom. She ran home, snuck inside and caught Harry red-handed. Or, rather, wand-handed.

She hadn't thought about what she would do next.

They stood and stared at one another. Ginny swallowed. She felt her sense of wandlessness acutely. Harry's face was white with shock, but his hand was steady on his wand, and he held it in approved defensive position. Clearly, he had been trained; and Ginny doubted whether he paid any heed to any restrictions for underage wizardry. And—her heart thudded—if Harry really was the son of a Death Eater in hiding, who knew what nasty Dark curses Daddy had taught him…?

At last Harry spoke. "Please don't tell him." His voice was quiet and hoarse with desperation.

"Tell who? Bill?" Ginny still couldn't look away from that wand.

"No." Harry shook his head. "Him."

"Who?"

"The Dark Lord." It was a tiny, strained whisper.

"The…Dark Lord?" Ginny frowned, shock giving way to confusion. A boggling thought occurred to her. "You mean Voldemort?" she asked, forgetting a lifelong habit in her astonishment.

"Shh! Shh!" Harry shushed her desperately. "You can't say that name!"

"Can't say…Where'd you learn that you shouldn't say his name?"

Harry stood mute and wooden-faced. Ginny sighed. "Let me guess: Stephen taught you not to. He's a wizard too, right?"

Harry blanched still further, if that were possible, and stood immobile. He was stick of dynamite right now, Ginny realized. A stick of dynamite with a wand. She would have to be very careful.

Slowly, Ginny raised both her hands. "Harry," she said, as gently as she could, "I'm not going to hurt you. Or Stephen. Look, I don't even have a wand." She turned her hands back and front, demonstrating their emptiness. "And I'm not going to tell anyone anything you don't want me to."

"Promise?" Harry's voice came out a thin whisper.

"I promise."

After a moment, to Ginny's great relief, Harry lowered his wand. He kept it out though, ready to leap into action at a moment's notice, Ginny was sure. He looked ready to jump out of his skin with nerves.

Ginny wondered where to begin. "Harry," she said at last, "do your friends know you and Stephen are wizards?"

"No," he whispered. "Please don't hurt them."

"I'm going to hurt anyone," Ginny said patiently. "Look, why don't we sit down?" Harry twitched. "Or maybe not." Ginny gathered her thoughts. "So you and Stephen have lived as Muggles all these years?"

"Yes." Harry gave a jerky nod. "Stephen says…the Muggles would imprison us. If they knew."

"He's not wrong, I guess." Ginny sighed. "Harry—do you know any other wizards at all? Besides Stephen and my family, I mean."

"No." Harry stared at her like this was the most foolish question he'd ever been asked. "We never see other wizards."

Ginny's eyes widened. "So—you and Stephen have been completely cut off from the magical world for fifteen years?" Another nod. "Why?"

Harry clammed up again. Ginny gave another silent sigh. If Stephen was actually Daddy Death Eater, she reflected, she probably already knew the answer to that question. But it was proving tricky, asking Harry whether his guardian was a Dark wizard in hiding, especially since he was already barely holding it together.

She tried another approach. "Who is Stephen to you, Harry? I mean, is he really your cousin?"

Harry surprised her with his indignant look. "Yes! He was Mom's best friend. She made him my guardian when she died."

"So he isn't your father?"

"My father?" Harry blinked. "No, of course not. Not biologically, anyway."

"Then who was your father?"

Another mute mask. Ginny sighed aloud this time. "Can't tell me?"

He gave her a very untrusting look. "You might tell him."

"You mean You-Know-Who?" Harry gave her a blank look. "The Dark Lord?"

He nodded desperately. "Please don't say anything!"

"I won't, I promise," said Ginny, since Harry clearly needed to hear her say it. Inwardly, of course, she was reeling with confusion. Why would Harry think she would say anything to Voldemort? He'd been gone for fifteen years.

Clearly, Harry's understanding of the magical world was somewhat confused. But telling him that right now seemed like a bad idea. She cast around for something else to say. "Harry, what were you doing wandering around our house with your wand out?"

He looked shifty. "I was…looking for something."

"What?"

"Something…dangerous." He looked shiftier than ever.

Ginny suppressed a sigh. They were getting nowhere. "Harry, why are you so worried that I'm going to tell You-Know-Who about you?"

"Because he rules the magical world," said Harry with absolute conviction. "He's the greatest Dark wizard in the world, and he rules all other wizards. Except me and Stephen. The Dark Lord tried to kill me when I was a baby but Stephen fought him off. He fought him off, but he couldn't kill him. So the Dark Lord got away and Stephen and I had to go into hiding."

Ginny was so boggled by this that for a moment all she could do was stare. Then: "What? You think—you think You-Know-Who rules the magical world?"

"Well, he does," said Harry with the puzzlement of someone wondering why someone else was arguing with the obvious. "That's why Stephen and I had to leave Britain. That's why we have to live in hiding. Because the Dark Lord tried to kill us both, and if he ever finds out where we live, he'll kill us for real."

A moment's silence passed. Ginny grappled with the sheer, ludicrous mistakenness of Harry's statement. Was he lying? Or playing some kind of joke? But no: when she looked into his desperate, earnest face, she saw he was telling the truth. Or what he thought was the truth.

Harry's grasp of the magical world wasn't just confused. It was based on a complete falsehood.

"Who told you that You-Know-Who is the ruler of the magical world?" Ginny asked at last.

"Stephen."

Of course. Daddy Death Eater certainly didn't want Harry innocently chattering with strange wizards and revealing their hiding place. Ginny wondered yet again how to proceed. From everything she'd seen, Harry loved Stephen—or should that be Severus?—like a father. If Ginny told him his guardian was a Death Eater in hiding who had lied to him about the political situation of the magical world just to keep him isolated, Harry wouldn't believe her. Actually, he'd probably be completely furious, and refuse to listen to another word she said.

She would have to approach this slowly and gently. "Harry," Ginny said, "there is absolutely no chance of me telling You-Know-Who anything, now or ever."

"He can make people talk," Harry whispered. "Stephen told me."

"That's not going to happen. You-Know-Who isn't even remotely interested in me, I promise." Harry did not look convinced. "Look, what can I do to make you trust me?"

"Well…" Harry looked taken aback. He paused in thought. "Veritaserum," he said at last.

"What?"

"Stephen and I have a batch of veritaserum back home," Harry said. His eyes were regretful but his voice was steely. "If you take a drop of it…I'll believe anything you say. But if you don't, I'll assume you're an enemy. And I'll tell Stephen. And at the very least he'll obliviate your memory." For a moment, Harry looked very grim. "And trust me, you don't want that."

No, Ginny certainly did not want a retired Death Eater blasting her memory and casting God knew what other curses alongside. Not that she really thought Stephen would get a chance to obliviate her memory should she spill the beans. No, what would happen was that Bill would whisk her, Ron and Hermione back to England, tell their parents, and then Bill and Arthur would sweep back to San Benito with a party of Aurors. Stephen would be arrested and Harry would be effectively orphaned. Some people might even be killed: cornered Death Eaters probably didn't discriminate when it came to blasting curses around.

It was a terrible thought. But so was the thought of taking veritaserum. Ginny imagined herself pouring out all her inmost secrets for Harry and felt her ears burn.

But, looking into Harry's set, determined face, she saw there was no alternative. Harry was a good person—of that Ginny had no doubt—but he was a good person whose whole world was based on a foundation of lies. If she wantonly destroyed that foundation, Harry would come crashing down. The damage would be immense.

But she had to tell him the truth somehow. And it seemed there was only one way he would believe her.

"All right," she said at last. "I'll take one drop of veritaserum. But only for you. Only when we're alone. And no personal questions, okay? You don't get to ask about my love life or anything like that."

Harry flashed her an indignant look. "I wouldn't do that!"

"I don't know," Ginny couldn't help growling. "You've been a pretty good liar so far, Harry Powell. Or is that even your real name?"

Harry flushed. "My name really is Harry," he mumbled.

"But Powell's made up, right?" Harry's silence was all the answer she needed. Ginny sighed. "When do we do it?"

"Tomorrow," Harry said after a moment. "I can't sneak any veritaserum before then. Come to Shadowed Planet at twelve. That's my lunch break. I'll meet you out back and we can do it then."

"Just one drop, right?" said Ginny.

"I promise." Harry glared. "And if you don't show up, I'll assume you've told your family about me and Stephen and I'll tell Stephen everything."

Ginny wondered miserably how they'd gone from a happy couple on vacation to a pair of snarling, untrusting feral cats spitting at each other. "You'd better not tell Stephen ahead of time. Or bring him along."

"I won't. I swear."

Ginny hesitated. If Stephen was actually Severus Snape, as she suspected… "Harry…you are safe at home, aren't you?"

"What?" Harry flashed her that indignant, startled look again. "Of course I am! Stephen would never hurt me."

He said this with such confidence that Ginny was forced to believe him. She thought back to "Mr. Markham", how he had acted with Harry. There had been real affection in his eyes when he looked at Harry, real love. No, Stephen would not hurt Harry. The Weasleys, on the other hand…that was a different story, she was sure.

"Okay, good," she said. "I'm glad to hear it," she added, because she was. "But Harry, what were you even doing wandering around our house with your wand?"

"I…that's a long story." Harry looked shifty. "But it wasn't to hurt you or your family, I swear."

Ginny found she believed him. "Okay. But if I take veritaserum, will you tell me?"

"Yes," he said. "If you take the veritaserum, I'll tell you as much as I can."

Which wasn't everything, Ginny suspected. But she also suspected that was the best she was going to get. "Fine."

They stared at each other, locked in uneasy compromise, neither of them happy about the situation but not knowing what else to do. "I'm sorry about this, Ginny," Harry said at last. "But I…I don't know how else I can trust you."

"I understand," said Ginny, and, to her slight surprise, found she did. "Just…be careful, all right? And please don't tell Stephen."

"I won't," he promised. "As long as you show up tomorrow."

Another moment's unhappy silence. "What now?" Ginny asked.

Harry blew out his lips. "I don't think I can really go for a walk with your family right now, Ginny. Tell them I had to go home. Tell them I was sick."

"Okay." Ginny saw she was being drawn into his web of lies, but, like a trapped fly, saw no way out. "Please don't tell him," she repeated, unable to keep the pleading fear from her voice.

"He's not that bad, you know," said Harry with a flash of his old humor. "But I promise I won't."

More silence. "I guess you'd better go," Ginny said finally.

"Yeah, I guess." Harry made an abortive movement, as though about to kiss her; but stopped himself. "I really am sorry about this, Ginny."

"I know. Just…go now, okay? I'll see you tomorrow at twelve."

"Okay." Harry pocketed his wand—or Ginny thought he did. The movement was oddly blank in her eyes. An enchantment, she supposed. Dear God, Harry must have been carrying a wand every day, ever since she'd first met him.

He turned and left the living room, going into the entryway to gather his things. Ginny trailed after him. "Bye, Harry," she said when he was ready.

Harry stood with his possessions, still white-faced, but his eyes were soft and regretful. "Bye, Ginny. Be there tomorrow."

Then he left the house. Ginny thought to go after him, but couldn't bring herself to move. She stood immobile and listened as his car engine started and he backed away.

Only then did her knees give way. She fell to the floor, shaking.