Rhiannon nodded. "Oh, yes. Draco made that very clear, and I haven't breathed a word about it, of course. They want to meet you because Uncle Stanley mentioned that you had adopted Draco. My parents always wanted to adopt a sister for me, but it never worked out. You're a bit like the road not taken, you see?"
"Yes, I see," murmured Snape, pushing his long hair away from his face. Huh. It was cleaner than usual, even though Snape didn't get in the water during Harry's lessons.
"Do you think that you could come out to Porlock for dinner sometime, then?" Her warm smile included Harry, too. "Perhaps next weekend?"
"I'm sure we shall be delighted," said Snape. "Please advise us of the exact date after you've spoken with your parents again."
"Yes, I will." A shout in the distance had Rhiannon glancing over towards the pool office, where her uncle was glowering. "Back to work, then. I'll see you at one tomorrow, Draco. I'm really looking forward to touring the orphanage properly, this time. 'Bye!"
As soon as Rhiannon was out of hearing range, Draco turned back to Snape. "I know I talked about wanting to go to Porlock, but I didn't put her up to that, honest. The invitation came from her, or her parents--"
Snape shrugged. "I'm sure a trip to Porlock can be arranged. It will merely require some planning."
"Then what has you looking so . . ." Draco lifted his hands. "You're thinking something. I can tell!"
"Something we should discuss at home, I do believe." Snape stood up and began making his way down the concrete steps.
Harry glanced at his brother, but Draco just lifted his shoulders. He obviously didn't know what to make of Snape's last comment, either.
------------------------------------------------------
"So, what's the matter?" asked Draco, as soon as he'd followed Snape into the cottage in Devon. Harry closed the weathered oak door behind them, but then he decided it was nice enough out to enjoy a little breeze, so he opened up the top half of it again and swung it wide.
"I wouldn't phrase it that way," said Snape, sitting down and crossing one leg over the other. "I do find it interesting, however, that your young lady would want her parents to meet me. Are things becoming serious so soon?"
Draco almost whistled in reply. "Oh, yes and no."
Snape's voice went hard. "Explain yourself at once."
Draco dropped into a chair, too, and grinned like a cat that had lapped up all the cream. "She said she loved me, that's what. Last night, when we were saying good-night."
Harry flopped onto the couch and tried not to say anything discouraging. He'd decided he wasn't going to do that, any longer, though privately, he still did have his worries about the whole thing.
"But I have a year of school left to go, so it's not as though I've popped the question, Severus," added Draco. "That'll have to wait."
"Until you've earned your N.E.W.T.s?"
Draco glanced briefly at Harry, his eyes looking a little shadowed. "Longer than that, I would think. I'm not about to keep my wife a secret, not from anyone. But that means the war will have to be over before I can ask her to marry me. I'm not putting Rhiannon in danger."
"Quite well thought-out, Draco," said Snape in tones of approval.
"Besides, I'd need a proper house, first," added Draco, clearly warming to his theme. "I've thought about how to redecorate Grimmauld Place once the Order's through with it, but really, it's so dark and dreary that the best thing might be to gut it and start over. And then . . . well, I know Rhiannon adores magic, but she's seen very little of it. I'm not sure she'd want to live in an Unplottable location. At any rate, we have a lot to talk about, eventually."
"You'd live in a Muggle house?" asked Harry.
Draco raised his chin. "Why not? I love her." He glanced significantly around the small room then, and Harry got the point. Draco had already got used to living in the cottage--a cottage he had once termed a "hovel." He was more adaptable than Harry had once thought.
A slight rustling sound caught Snape's attention. They didn't always notice when post arrived for them, but sometimes it made more noise than others. With a careless flick of his wand, Snape summoned the letter and glanced down at the seal.
Even from a distance, Harry could see the emblem of a large bird sheltering several smaller ones under her wing. "It's from Family Services?"
"Not quite; it's from the Wizarding Home for Displaced and Orphaned Juvenile Squibs. And it's for Draco." Snape stretched out his hand to give Draco the scroll.
The other boy shrugged as he unrolled the parchment. "Probably telling us to come an hour later or something . . ." The moment he began to read, though, his whole body stiffened. "How dare she! Draco Snape Malfoy, am I?"
Harry decided not to mention that Malfoy actually still was a part of Draco's name. Draco didn't like it to be, Harry knew, but he'd thought it best, for strategic reasons. Oh, hell. It was best, in a lot of ways. Even Harry could see that.
A little frown began to crease the area between Draco's eyebrows, but as he read on, the expression became more pronounced. When Draco was through with the scroll, he flung it to the table so hard that it made a slapping noise. "Wonderful. That Emmeleia bitch says we can't visit the squib home tomorrow."
Harry thought bitch was a bit extreme, considering. "So we'll go when, on Monday night or something? Oh, does Rhiannon have rehearsal?"
"Yes, she does, but according to that," Draco pointed a contemptuous finger at it, "I'm never welcome again. Or Rhiannon."
"There must be some misunderstanding," said Snape, reaching forward to take the scroll. "May I?"
"Surprised it's not a Howler," muttered Draco. "Not that a squib could send one, but I bet she wanted to . . . What? Oh. Yes, go right ahead."
Harry smiled, a little wryly. "Oh, you ask him if it's all right to read his private letters."
"You aren't sorry I read yours, that once," said Snape evenly, his dark gaze flicking up.
"Not now, no." Harry smiled more widely, to show he'd been joking. "I'm very happy that you did."
"If you're quite through reminiscing," cut in Draco, his voice cold, but also threaded with anxiety.
Instead of replying, Snape unrolled the scroll. His brow furrowed. "Interesting choice of words, here. She thinks your interest in the school is prurient? I'm corrupting you both?"
"Us both?"
"Oh yes, you're in there. You should read it, too." Draco sighed. "Fuck. Rhiannon was really looking forward to going back, and with my luck, she'll think they won't let her in because after the bell thing, they know she's a Muggle! I'm sure you can imagine how well that will go over with her."
"Well, you could just tell her the truth--"
"What truth, Potter? I don't have the first clue what Emmeleia Volentier's problem is!"
"The letter doesn't say?"
Snape held it out. "Perhaps you should read it as your brother suggested."
So, Harry did.
Mr Draco Snape Malfoy
care of Professor Severus Snape:
You may be under the impression that money can buy anything, but some things, you will learn, are simply for not for sale. I don't care if you endow the home a hundred times over, we are not amenable to the kind of prurient interest you obviously have in mind. Though perhaps depravity would be the more accurate term. Don't bother to deny it; I know your type.
Therefore, do us the courtesy of never darkening our doorstep again.
You may as well inform your father that I do not appreciate seeing him corrupt his adopted sons with what passes for "civilized" pureblood customs. Perhaps in your case it's unavoidable; you resemble your birth father a great deal, and evidently, not only on the outside. But when it comes to Harry Potter, your father truly should know better.