He certainly hadn't meant to bring her up.
It wasn't until breakfast had been served that he set the Prophet aside.
Instead of taking it up as he usually did, Severus kept on with his meal. "Anything of note?"
Draco shrugged. "Oh, the usual, you know. Some announcements, a lot of adverts. Oh, and that Percy Weasley made some kind of statement."
Harry made a face. "The Prophet's quoting Percy, now? What about?"
"Oh, just that there's nothing particularly suspicious about the missing half-bloods--"
Harry cut him off. "What missing half-bloods?"
Draco tucked into his eggs before he answered. "You really should keep up with the news a bit better than that, Harry. There was a report saying two students had gone missing earlier in the summer. And then another one this morning. But nothing to worry about."
"Nothing to worry about!" Harry called over to Severus, who was waving his wand to make the eggs flip over in the frying pan. "Did you know that students have been disappearing all summer?"
"Hardly all summer," returned Severus. "But yes, I knew that two students had gone missing a few weeks back."
"What if Voldemort's behind it?" cried Harry. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because there was nothing you could have done about it, and no reason to suspect the worst." Waving his wand again,, Severus deftly slid the eggs onto a row of plates laid out in a neat row. "And too, I didn't want to spoil your summer with thoughts of Voldemort unless it was absolutely necessary."
Harry looked like he was bracing himself. "Who's gone missing, anyway?"
"The latest one is a Laura Madley," said Draco. "Hufflepuff, apparently. Three years behind us."
"And the others?"
"Er-- Walter, or Wally, or--"
"Wayne Hopkins and Su Li," said Severus quietly
"They're in our year," gasped Harry, turning to Draco. "And you couldn't remember their names?"
"Well, I don't pay a huge amount of attention to the other houses, Harry!"
Harry turned to his father. "I still can't believe you didn't mention this before!"
"There wasn't much reason to." Severus floated three plates over to the table, then joined them there, though at first he did little more than sip at his tea. "Mr Hopkins and Miss Li were known to be . . . involved, shall we say. All the indications are that they ran away together."
"Skipping out on their last year of school, though?"
"Perhaps the young lady is in the family way."
"Oh."
"So that's why the paper downplayed it!" exclaimed Draco. "Of course. It's terribly gauche, isn't it, to let that happen when you're still in school. You'd think even half-bloods would know better--"
Severus sighed and set his teacup down. "I didn't say that Miss Li was with child, Draco. I was merely speculating."
"Then what about Laura Madley?" challenged Harry.
"This is the first I've heard of her going missing. Draco, the paper please."
Severus read the article closely, not that there had been that much to read. Just a few brief paragraphs, really. Hmm. Perhaps that was telling in of itself, Draco thought. Did the Prophet not want to remind readers that all this might be some plot of the Dark Lord's?
"There's precious little information about Miss Madley," said Severus, laying the paper aside. "It seems Percy Weasley is doing well for himself, however. Assistant clerk to Fudge himself, these days."
Draco sniffed. He knew the Ministry was full of idiots--who didn't?--but he still disliked the idea that a goody-goody snotrag like Percy Weasley was rising through the ranks so fast. "And empowered to hold press conferences, apparently."
Severus' smile was grim. "Oh, that's just the Minister's idea of wiliness, I expect. If he's wrong about there being no connection among these disappearances, Percy will regret making such a strong statement on the matter. Fudge will not doubt disavow the comments."
Harry sounded impatient, like he couldn't care less if Percy Weasley got sacked. "Maybe the other two ran off with each other, who knows? But Laura Madley's too young for that. So what about her? Has a search been started, has--"
Draco recognised that tone and decided enough was enough. "Are you managing MLE now, Harry? The last time I checked, you had yet to so much as apply for an apprenticeship there." Which reminded Draco, actually. He looked for the parchment he had read the night before, but it was nowhere to be seen. Oh, well. "Severus, what's this rot about some proposed change in Auror requirements? You left a draft of a complaint letter lying about."
Severus pinched the bridge of his nose. From the look of things, just thinking about the matter gave the man a headache. "You recall that the Ministry had wished me to revise my curriculum to a much lower standard of competence? Ever since my refusal to do so, they've been putting forth a daft idea that my O.W.L. level is the equivalent of every other school's N.E.W.T. programme." Severus abruptly gave a sigh. "They're proposing that sixth- and seventh-year Potions classes be eliminated from the requirements for the Auror programme."
Harry's eyes widened. "I took a year of Potions that I didn't even need?"
"No, you didn't," barked Severus. "They aren't going to change the requirements. I will stop them, even if it means using my celebrity status as Harry Potter's father, even if it means giving interviews to every paper in wizarding Britain!"
"Quite right," said Draco, nodding in approval. "What can they be thinking?"
"That Dad's Potions classes are really hard," said Harry dryly. He looked just a little bit wistful over the issue, which Draco frankly thought was bad form. Not to mention silly. What was so difficult about brewing?
"Being an Auror is hard," said Severus scathingly. "And make no mistake, you will be taking N.E.W.T. level Potions next year no matter what the Ministry has to say about the matter."
"Yeah, yeah, I know," said Harry, a small smile playing about his lips. "I remember. Any son of yours is going to be a competent brewer, and you're talking real potions, N.E.W.T. level at the very least."
"You find the idea amusing, do you?"
"No, not really. It's just . . . it's sort of, I don't know, endearing . . .?"
"Endearing!"
Draco almost laughed, then, since Severus looked so appalled.
"Well, yes." Harry paused a moment. "It's like you're just a regular dad, see. Potions matter to you. A lot. And doesn't every father try his best to pass on that kind of appreciation? His values, all that?"
Suddenly the conversation wasn't amusing in the slightest. "And allegiances," said Draco sourly. "Why don't you just start talking again about how much I look like Lucius?"
"If you must know, I was thinking of Uncle Vernon and Dudley."
"Oh." Damned impulse control. Draco wished he could call back his words.
Apparently, Harry's admission didn't sit well with Severus, who narrowed his eyes. "Don't compare me to Vernon Dursley, Harry. What heritage was he intent on passing to his son? An inordinate love of puddings?"
"True," said Harry, sighing.
"And furthermore," said Severus, his voice going up a notch, "I don't expect you to excel in Potions merely because I happen to enjoy the subject. The knowledge you gain and the mental discipline required to become a competent brewer will help you in whatever life may hold for you."
"All right, all right. So you're not a football dad. I get it."
"Football dad?"
Football . . . Draco thought back to Harry's explanations about Muggles, to his descriptions of popular sporting events. Though why kicking a round ball about appealed was a good question. "I think he means a Quidditch dad," he said, nodding at Severus.
"No, I most certainly am not," said Severus.