"But not for Rhiannon."
"No, not for Rhiannon."
"Well, good for him if he can forget the war long enough to have a romance," said Harry, trying to mean it. "But I can't."
"You can, Harry," said Snape, sounding just a little urgent, then. "You can have someone."
Harry's voice was flat when he replied. "No, Dad. I really can't."
Snape pushed back his chair and stood up. By then, his expression looked shuttered. "I'm sorry to hear that you think so, but enough of such matters. You have summer homework still to do as well, don't you?"
Harry made a face. "Transfiguration essay."
"Best not to leave your studies until the last minute. A frequent failing of yours."
"Hey, I wasn't even allowed to have my books out, most summers--"
Snape's eyes glimmered. "No, you weren't. But I wasn't referring to summer homework exclusively."
"Oh." Harry got up from the table. "All right, then. I'll get started on it. And I'll tell Draco I'm sorry for saying that--"
"No." Snape held up a hand. "Best to leave that subject alone, Harry. Completely alone. Allow your brother the courtesy of trusting him to not need your interference."
That was what Snape was doing, Harry sensed.
"Yeah, all right," he said, heading towards his room.
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Draco spent Saturday afternoon and evening with Rhiannon, and then all day Sunday.
If not for her job keeping her busy, we probably wouldn't see Draco until September, Harry was thinking by late Sunday night when Draco finally came home.
"What a day, what a day," he said, dropping down onto the sofa next to Harry.
"Problem?" asked Harry, then realised he probably shouldn't have sounded so hopeful about it.
Draco didn't seem to notice, though. "No, not really. I faced down the dreaded first dinner with the parents, that's all."
Snape looked up from where he was working at the table, his gaze suddenly piercing. "You left Exeter?"
"No, no, Mr Tilden had everybody over to his house."
"Good, because you've permission to wander Exeter only."
Draco sat up a little more. "You know, Severus, I don't technically need your permission for anything, these days. Anyway, her parents live in Porlock, which isn't so far; it's just over in Somerset--"
"I know where Porlock is," interrupted Snape. "Don't go there, or anywhere else I haven't warded, without speaking to me."
"Or you'll what?"
Harry drew in a breath and backed up on the sofa. He couldn't imagine talking to his father in that tone of voice, let alone telling him to his face that he didn't have any authority any longer.
"Mourn you," said Snape bluntly.
Draco looked taken aback, even though he protested, "No need for melodrama--"
"Melodrama, is it?" By then, Snape's voice was about as cold and angry as Harry had ever heard. "I can't keep you alive if you insist on taking stupid risks, and it's also not in my power to lay trip wires across all Britain for your convenience. Death, incidentally, should be the very least of your worries. As we have discussed prior, Voldemort will torture you first, for information about Harry. And furthermore--"
"That's enough," said Draco in a dull voice. "I apologise. See how good I'm getting at that? I . . . I wouldn't have gone to Porlock without letting you know, Severus."
"You'll do more than let me know. You won't go at all unless I deem it safe. You're an adult now, Draco. You should be past your problem with impulse control. Are we understood?"
"Yes, sir."
Not a trace of sarcasm about that answer, thought Harry. Snape obviously had got through to Draco.
Snape, though, wasn't through. "I didn't mention this before, Draco, because it wasn't clear to me if your affection for Miss Miller would survive, once you knew she was in fact a Muggle. Now, however, I think I had better tell you."
"Tell me?"
"Your young lady will become a target for the Death Eaters, every bit as much as you are, if her existence becomes well-known."
Oh, God. If Draco had looked ill at the prospect of being tortured, now he looked positively ghastly. His skin took on a green tinge, and he swallowed several times in quick succession.
And then, his voice thick, he said the most selfless thing Harry had ever heard come from his lips. "Best to break it off, then. Until after the war, until--"
"You don't need to do that," said Snape, more softly. "She'll be perfectly safe as long as you take adequate precautions. One of which is to see her only in Exeter, which is free of Death Eater activity and warded to alert me instantly if that should change. And too, it's not as though Lucius Malfoy is still intent on scheming to capture you. Voldemort would no doubt find your knowledge useful, but in truth, the principle threat to you came from Lucius."
"True, but--"
"As long as you don't flaunt yourself, or her, I doubt either one of you would come to Voldemort's attention. Lupin reports that he seems preoccupied with other plans, ones he won't share even with his closest advisors."
Draco frowned. "That's because of the way Lupin went around last year, making it seem like the Death Eaters were betraying one another. I never did think that a very good idea. All it's done is make the Dark Lord decide not to trust another living soul."
"You'll remember that I had nothing to do with hatching that particular plot."
Draco nodded. "No Slytherin would have. So, Rhiannon. Precautions. I stick to Exeter, right. And I guess I don't tell the house about her, after all?"
Harry blinked. "You were going to tell your mates in Slytherin that you'd fallen for a Muggle? Really?"
"Leaving aside the fact that I don't have mates, there, yes, I was."
Snape crossed his arms before his chest. "They'd take that no better than they took your proclamations last year. The ones that got you attacked, if you recall?"
Draco snorted. "As if I could forget, Severus. Well, if you must know, I was planning at first to keep Rhiannon a complete secret, but then Granger got me to admit that, and she went on and on about how that meant I was ashamed of her, deep down, and how Rhiannon would be able to tell that, and--"
"Well, it wouldn't mean any of that rot," said Harry fiercely, a little annoyed with Hermione. "It'd just mean you'd rather not put her in danger. And no offence to either of you, but Slytherin's full of gits who would be only too happy to pass on information to Death Eaters."
"No offence to you, either," said Snape mildly. "Or have you forgotten you're also in Slytherin?"
"He's forgotten about Gryffindors who do the same thing, obviously," added Draco, less mildly.
Harry ignored both of them. "Anyway, I say you'd better keep her a secret. Her being a Muggle isn't even the main point. It's the fact that she's important to you that matters."
"Her being a Muggle is going to make things much worse for her, if any of it gets out, though." Draco nodded. "Of course, my first thought was the better one. I'll keep mum about Rhiannon. Hmm, I suppose I'd better let Granger's parents know something about that. I'll give them a supply of parchment envelopes to use, ones that look like they've been owled off by wizarding shops--"
"What are you on about?"
"Oh, Hermione and I worked out a scheme with owls and post and such. If I set it up right, I can get letters from Rhiannon that other people think are replies to inquiries about my owl-orders. And when I send letters, they'll be inside ones that Hermione owls off to her parents, nothing odd about that, a girl writing home, so that all sorts, then . . ."
"Speaking of Miss Granger, this came for you earlier," said Snape. One flick of his wand, and a letter was wafting across the room to Draco, who began to frown the moment he started reading. "Oh, please."
Harry resisted a strong urge to lean over and see, but he couldn't resist asking. "What?"
Draco tossed the letter onto the table to one side of the sofa. "Hermione's parents can't act as go-betweens for a girl she's never even met, she says."