Chapter 21 - Showdown At Godric's Hollow

Chapter 21 – Showdown At Godric's Hollow

Motes of dust swirled lazily in the shard of sunlight that pierced through the living-room window of the Potter household. Harry looked through them without really seeing; his gaze was caught in a thousand-yard stare as he processed the events of the day. The tick, tick, tick of the clock on the mantelpiece was the only sound that he could hear. At one time, Harry had associated this soothing repetition with peace and tranquility, reflecting a time for solitude and relaxation. But today it imitated a bomb that was ready to go off. Harry couldn't stop a bitter smile pulling at the corner of his mouth; he felt that the bomb analogy was an accurate description of his current predicament as he waited for his wife to return to their marital home.

Once Harry's incantation in the grounds of Hogwarts had revealed his son's saviour's true identity, he'd felt equally angry and betrayed. The final piece of the puzzle had slotted into place, and he was now under no doubt that Ginny was being unfaithful. The journey home to Godric's Hollow had been a blur as he struggled to contain the rage within him, whilst he mulled over all the possible scenarios of their illicit coupling, each scene more lurid and impossible than the last. The bile that rose in his stomach at the sickening images was as bitter and acrid as his feelings towards Ginny.

Yes, it was strange, but all of Harry's ire was aimed directly at his wife. He knew that Snape was just as guilty as Ginny was in carrying out the affair, but oddly he was not angry with him. Maybe he felt too much in Snape's debt, in the way he'd all but sacrificed himself to bring Voldemort down and then seemingly selflessly stepped in to save his son. Or maybe it was because he believed Snape to be as lonely now as he was in his previous life and could therefore easily understand his attraction to the young, beautiful Ginny. Either way, Harry thought that Snape wasn't really to blame in all this and that Ginny herself was entirely responsible.

However, throughout his pain and anger, Harry felt he had a trump card up his sleeve; he was convinced Ginny was unaware that the man she was having an affair with was really Snape. For one thing, Snape had left the wizarding world behind and didn't want to be involved in that world any more. He was happy with people thinking him dead. He wouldn't even answer Minerva's letters, for Merlin's sake, and besides Dumbledore, she had to be the one person who knew him really well. Snape had been so careful to protect his identity during Al's illness that Harry couldn't imagine for one minute that he would let his mask slip. Snape was stubborn and the master of keeping secrets after all. And, Harry knew, he was also a master of Potions. It would be very easy for him to rustle up a perfect batch of Polyjuice Potion, or to change his appearance in some other way with a skillfully concocted brew. Added to that, Ginny was not the type to harbour latent crushes on her former professor, unlike the surprisingly soppy Hermione. Hermione had admitted some time ago that once the truth about Snape had come to light, she'd held a little flame for him for a while. Ginny had snorted with laughter at the very thought of her friend having a crush on a dead man whilst Ron had sulked at this admission for a whole month. Harry was not surprised by Hermione's revelations, however. Snape had been an intelligent wizard who was very proficient and skilled in magic, with a dark, brooding edge and a surprisingly romantic core, very much like Viktor Krum. In other words, exactly Hermione's type. Ginny had made a witty comment about Hermione wanting Snape to enter her Chamber of Secrets and Hermione had blushed furiously, mumbling that it was a long time ago and that Ron was the only wizard for her.

So what would Ginny do if she found out that she was actually having trysts with the Bat of the Dungeons, as she used to call him? Well, that was exactly what Harry was going to find out.

In the hours after returning from Hogwarts, Harry had calmed down considerably. The kids were still at Molly's and that had given him the time to think things through rationally. He'd processed the facts and waited calmly on the sofa, the monotonous ticking of the clock hypnotising him. Nyx, the family Kneazle, was now curled up beside him and occasionally he would scratch her behind the ears, an action that soothed them both. The sound of the front door slamming pulled him abruptly out of his reverie, and he listened to the sound of his wife dropping her handbag on to the dresser in the hallway and kicking off her shoes with a sigh, before finally, eventually, entering the lounge.

'Hi,' Ginny said breathlessly, barely looking in Harry's direction as she absently picked up a stray teddy from an armchair and tossed it into the toy box in the corner of the room.

Harry's knuckles whitened as he seized his grip on the armrest of the sofa. 'We need to talk,' he said softly, almost monotonously.

It was obvious that Ginny was still unaware that something was wrong, as she was now plumping the cushions on the armchair before sitting, the whole while still not looking at Harry. A prickle of anger and indignation surged through Harry at this. How dare she pretend that everything was alright? How dare she have the gall to lie to his face, and not be in the least bit concerned that their marriage was very nearly over?

'We need to talk,' he repeated through gritted teeth, struggling hard to keep his voice neutral.

Ginny raised an eyebrow as she perched on the edge of the armchair, her hands knotted on her knees.

'Something wrong?' she asked quietly. Harry looked pale and tense; she knew that whatever was coming couldn't be good.

Harry breathed heavily through his nose. Yes, something was wrong. This whole scenario was wrong. It was more than that; it was insane! He forced himself to meet her gaze.

'I know you've been having an affair, Ginny,' he said, in a calm tone that surprised even himself.

Ginny felt her stomach plummet towards her feet. Of all the things she imagined Harry would say to her, this wasn't even on the list. She'd been careful and discreet. How the hell did he know?

Ginny's look of shock and, Harry noticed with a twisted form of triumph, guilt, was enough to steel him for the second allegation.

'Well? Aren't you going to deny it?' he asked, his knuckles clenching the armrest of the sofa once more.

Ginny didn't know what to say. Instead, she shook her head imperceptibly and looked down at the tangle of fingers in her lap. She thought she was in control of the situation. She thought Harry would never find out. This wasn't the way this was supposed to turn out...

Harry watched her carefully, letting the moments drag by uncomfortably before interrogating her once more. 'So, what's he like then? This Alfric O. Nobel?' he asked in a forced jovial voice.

Ginny's head shot up as if she'd been electrocuted. 'How do you know?' she asked, rather more shrilly than she'd

anticipated. 'Have you been spying on us?'

Harry merely snorted. 'In case you've forgotten, I'm an Auror. I don't need to spy on people to put two and two together. Now tell me, what is he like? The man who saved our son? I want to know every detail.' His smile was broad but yet ugly, stretching his face so he looked like a caricature of himself.

Ginny looked bewildered at Harry, not knowing if he was joking or not. She felt on the back foot; anger she could deal with. But geniality at a time like this?

'Come on, Ginny. You haven't been this tongue-tied around me since my second year at Hogwarts. Tell me. Is he tall? Handsome? Biceps like coconuts?'

'What difference does it make?' Ginny asked carefully, not knowing where this was going.

Harry turned in his seat so fast, he startled Nyx, who promptly jumped off the sofa and skittered out of the lounge, her huge, fluffy tail held upright.

'It makes ALL the difference,' he answered, and his green eyes were glinting in a way that made Ginny feel very uncomfortable indeed. 'Now I will ask you once more: What. Is. He. Like.'

Ginny had never felt afraid of Harry before, until now. She swallowed, her throat suddenly feeling like it was blocked with cotton wool. 'He's tall... with fair hair...' she began unsurely.

Harry was now wearing a quizzical smile. 'Yes? And?'

'H-he's got blue eyes. Broad build. And has a tanned complexion.' She noted that Harry's smile had now turned into something resembling triumph. 'Oh, what does it matter? Why do you even care?' she finished wretchedly.

'Well, I must say, he sounds rather dashing, this Alfric,' Harry said after a moment, his smile still utterly maddening. 'Let me guess: it was lust at first sight, ever since that cosy evening at the Quidditch together.'

If Ginny's eyebrows rose any higher, they'd disappear into her hairline. She managed to let out a little gasp of shock and indignation. He even knew about that night? And how long had he known?

'Oh yes, I can see it now,' Harry continued. 'Tall, blond and handsome; the man who saved our son. How could you not be attracted to him? He's a hero, after all.'

Ginny closed her eyes. 'Harry, don't,' she pleaded softly.

'I bet he's a real beefcake, isn't he? All rippling muscles and designer stubble...'

'Stop it!' Ginny implored, a little louder now.

'Yes, quite the hunk,' went on, ignoring his wife's appeals. 'But I'm afraid your lover boy isn't all that he seems.' Harry fixed her with his steely green eyes.

Ginny stared back at Harry, and her stomach flipped over. Oh, Merlin. So this is what all this is about. He knew something. Her mouth felt, if possible, drier than ever as she waited for Harry to go on.

'Your lover has been lying to you, Ginny. He's not the man you think he is.'

'What are you talking about?' Ginny asked in exasperation. Couldn't he just cut to the chase?

'There's no easy way to say this, so let's start at the beginning. Rather good at potions, old Alfric, wouldn't you say?' Harry said mysteriously.

'I hardly see what that has to do with anything...'

'The Prophet called him a genius the likes of which have not been seen in a generation, did they not?' Harry asked, cutting Ginny off abruptly. 'Can you think of anyone else this might apply to?'

Ginny merely screwed up her face in disbelief. 'I have no idea what you're talking about.'

'Can't you think of anyone who was gifted at Potions? An old teacher, maybe?' he prompted lightly.

Ginny's mind wandered back to her final year at Hogwarts, when she was taught by the eccentric yet undoubtedly brilliant Horace Slughorn. The old man was surely nearly a hundred by now! Harry surely couldn't be implying the one-time Head of Slytherin was her suitor... Unless he actually meant...

'Snape?!' Ginny asked incredulously.

'DING DING!' Harry cried victoriously. 'Give the woman a prize. Yes, Snape. You, my dear, have been having your end away with Severus Snape, Bat of the Dungeons himself.'

Ginny shook her head slowly and looked at Harry like he was a Blast-Ended Skrewt. 'Harry, I really think you've lost it this time...' she murmured, feeling her husband was on the edge of insanity. Snape was dead! Wasn't he?

'Think about it,' Harry went on. 'How else would this Alfric person know about the rare allergy Al had? It was because my mum had it too, and Snape knew that.'

'No...' Ginny said firmly, shaking her head.

'I knew you wouldn't believe me,' Harry said matter-of-factly, pulling his wand from the belt of his jeans. 'So this is why I'll have to spell it out for you instead.'

And so, using the same incantation as he'd performed at Hogwarts, Harry spelled out Alfric's name in shimmering, fiery letters. One swoop of the wand was all it took for the letters to rearrange themselves into the old Potion master's self-styled nickname.

The horror on Ginny's face was indescribable, and a small, vindictive part of Harry felt vindicated.

'You're lying,' she gasped, staring at the letters like they were something diabolical. 'This can't be true... How... ' she spluttered, unable to comprehend.

'Polyjuice Potion, Ginny,' Harry answered grimly, removing the letters with a firm swish of his wand. 'The oldest trick in the book.'

'No!' Ginny cried, standing up. She had a wild look about her, just like she'd had at St.Mungo's. 'I don't believe you!'

Her mind was in turmoil; part of what Harry was telling her made sense, but the other part seemed utterly, utterly mad.

Harry sat back on the sofa, gazing at his wife coolly. 'Well, don't just take my word for it. Why don't you ask him yourself?'

Ginny stared back at Harry for a few moments before turning on her heel and fleeing the house, her heart in her mouth. Was what Harry really telling the truth? Had she been hoodwinked by her former professor? The feeling of nausea which spread through Ginny's body had nothing to do with the jolt of Apparition that took her from her garden in Godric's Hollow and straight on to the doorstep of the man she knew to be Alfric O. Nobel, PHD.