Harry Potter

Secrets

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CHAPTER FOUR
Unwelcome Revelations
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For all that Harry prided herself on being smarter than her relatives forced her to make herself out as, she completely missed the silent signals being sent between Mr. Snape and Po that led to the situation she now found herself in. She had been so swept up in the red-cheeked excitement of coming back from her very first enjoyable shopping excursion that the exchanged looks had gone right over her head—literally. Unfortunately, with her new and improved glasses, she didn't even have her poor vision as an excuse.

The sudden cornering in Po's tent from the two men she had only ever seen fighting came out of nowhere. Po had been leading the way, flinging his hands about and talking grandly of his plans for Harry's stay with the circus, while she and Mr. Snape followed much more quietly behind. Then, as soon as Harry had entered the tent, she had found herself suddenly gripped by Po's large hands as Mr. Snape secured the tent flap with a quietly murmured spell. Just like that, all of the trepidation and discontentment with her situation came rushing back, just after she had finally settled in to go with the flow.

Po was a far cry from his usual character, lips pressed tightly, face pinched. Mr. Snape, of course, was always dour and at least mildly disapproving, but even he seemed more intense. Harry could feel the dread welling up in her stomach like an old friend. She had been so sure— but obviously she had misjudged. Otherwise Po would not be gripping her quite so tightly, and Mr. Snape's sneer would not be nearly so heartfelt.

"What do you want with me?" Her voice was sullen, her attempts at squirming away feeble. Petunia had been right after all.

"Who are you really?" Po shot right back. His accusal pierced Harry through. If she had nothing else, she had always had her identity. Petunia and Vernon and Dudley could take and take, could beat her and insult her, but Harry would always be Harry Potter. Her parents would always be the people that had brought her into the world. No one could take that away from Harry, because a name, an identity, is not something that could be taken. Yet here Po was, attempting to do just that. It was as if all of her will was injected back into her, rising up in a towering fire of anger. Who did he think he was?

"I'm Harry Potter," she responded snidely, curling her lip. "My parents are dead, and my gracious caregivers are Petunia and Vernon Dursley." The amount of disrespect in her tone was enough to make her shiver at her own daring (and in anticipation of the punishment).

Mr. Snape was the one to reply, Po being too shocked by the sudden change he perceived in Harry. "Brat, you may have fooled us initially, but we have indubitable proof. You cannot be Harry Potter."

"Says who?" she queried mock-innocently. "I have been Harry Potter since birth. Can your evidence top that?" Her lips threatened to spread in a cruel smile.

"Harry Potter is male."

For a moment, her heart stopped. Just a pause, but enough to trip her rage and send her head spinning away with her breath. For several long moments, she did not breathe and the edges of her vision gave way to darkness. Of Petunia's many "lessons", the one she had always drilled into Harry the hardest was that no one could know she was a girl. It was something even Vernon and Dudley were unaware of, as far as Harry knew. And yet, here, Mr. Snape suspected? How could he? She had given nothing away. Harry would never be so stupid. She had yet to understand why her aunt enforced the charade so much, but she knew it was important. There was a purpose to her deception, and one single person's knowledge could destroy it. So how had Snape found out?

Harry pressed her lips tightly, determined to say nothing. She knew that the sudden perceived changes in her mood and attitude would be telling, but there was no other less incriminating path she could see. Either way, Po and Mr. Snape already had their suspicions. Whatever evidence caused them to suspect probably couldn't be brushed away with words. Mr. Snape squinted knowingly at her, and Po had not released his grip on her shoulders.