Sure didn't take him long to get used to spending pounds as well as Galleons, Harry thought.
"Really a shame we can't wear dress robes," Draco said as soon as Severus had left. "They're so much smarter. But then again, I never have worn wizarding clothes to a play or opera. It's just not done."
"Shh. Discretion, remember?"
Draco waved a careless hand. "Nobody much is listening to us. But that's about to change." Taking charge then, Draco marched up to the clerk and explained what they wanted. He was actually rather rude about it. Not that the clerk seemed to notice. He could probably smell the money about to come his way.
"Now, we haven't much time," said Draco, his chin lifted. "We're to go to the opera tonight, you understand? So we expect everything to be properly fitted at once, or we'll take our business elsewhere. We want suits. Your very finest, in dark grey. And proper shirts and ties as well." Draco smirked, then. "I expect that Harry would like to hang crimson and gold around his neck. However, I'd prefer something more in the green range. Well? What are you waiting for? Hop to!"
"I wouldn't think you'd know so much about Muggle clothes," said Harry out of the corner of his mouth, as soon as the clerk stepped away.
"I don't. I merely know what's appropriate for opera," said Draco in a patronizing voice.
"You said yourself that it's just a small local theatre."
"I don't care. I have standards."
Well, if Draco wanted to enjoy his night on the town--even a town like Exeter--then good for him, Harry decided. He put up with being measured nine ways to Sunday and trying on several different suits, but started feeling irritated again when Draco just had to comment on the new shirt the clerk was sliding from between folds of tissue paper.
"Oh, that has pins in it, doesn't it?" asked Draco, eyeing it closely. "So be sure to get them all out before my brother tries it on. Every last one. It wouldn't do for him to get stuck."
Harry sighed, which Draco apparently took for more than annoyance. "No sense tempting fate," he said in a pompous voice.
"Don't be ridiculous!" snapped Harry. "I can handle it."
"Now, now--"
That was so patronizing that Harry swore he could practically feel the top of his skull blow off, he was so angry. "What? What do you think I'm going to do, grab a pin and spear myself right here in the store?"
Draco's lips suddenly curled back from his teeth as he spun around to face the clerk, who by then was shaking out the shirt. "Heard enough, have you?" He raised his voice. "You know, I thought an establishment like this would have well-trained staff, but it seems not. Do you often eavesdrop on private conversations? I've half a mind to take my business elsewhere, this instant! Well? What's wrong with you? We'll need cufflinks, won't we? Go!"
As the clerk rushed off, red-faced, Draco called after him, "Gold at the very least, mind! Platinum would be better."
Harry was practically speechless. Draco gave high-handed a new name. But the other boy wasn't through yet. The moment he and Harry were alone, he gave Harry's arms a significant look. "You haven't been sticking yourself lately, have you?"
"That's none of your business."
"Wrong," said Draco, almost coldly. "You're my brother and I'm looking out for you whether you like it or not. So?"
"Go shove your head down the loo!"
"What a Mugglish comeback."
"All right," said Harry in the most pleasant voice he could manage. "Shove your wand up your arse, then. Like that one better?"
"Shhh, discretion," mocked Draco, his teeth glinting. But then he appeared to become deadly serious. He narrowed his eyes, staring straight at Harry. "You know, I can only think that your reluctance to talk about it must mean you have been hurting yourself again. And this time, Severus doesn't know. Well, if you think I'll keep a thing like this secret, you can just think again."
"I haven't been doing anything," said Harry, fists clenching. "So don't you start telling Dad that I have. Oh, so that's it. I get it, now. You just want him to think less of me--"
"Like that could ever happen!"
"Oh, yeah, because Severus has always thought so highly of me, right."
Draco's tone of voice changed. All at once he sounded desperate. Or maybe, desperately unhappy. "I have to tell him, Harry. I just have to. Don't you understand? I promised to get you through this, and I know I can't do it by myself. You need your dad, and--"
Oh. Harry smiled a little bit ruefully. It was hard to resent Draco when it was so obvious that the other boy's motives were good. Even if he was pretty obnoxious in the way he went about things. "I haven't stuck myself lately," Harry said in a calmer voice. "Honestly, Draco. You can relax."
The earnest admission didn't seem to mean anything to Draco. "If you were, you wouldn't tell me, though."
"Oh, for God's sake. You won't believe me unless I say I've been doing it. But what if that's the lie? It could be, you know. In fact, it damned well is!"
"Is it?"
"Of course it is!"
"No of course about it."
That was so pompous that Harry lost his temper. "And how's your own summer been, eh? Iced any more fairy cakes lately?"
Draco gave him a nasty look. "Just for that I'm tempted to demand a crimson and gold shirt for you. But since I have to be seen with you, it won't do for you to like a buffoon."
"I wanted a blue tie, anyway." Harry gave him a superior look. "It's silly to stick to house colours over the summer."
"I suppose it's silly when one's colours are so very garish," said Draco haughtily. Turning away, he ignored Harry after that, but that might have been because it was time for his own fitting.
------------------------------------------------------
Harry and Draco still weren't talking when Snape arrived and discreetly handed Draco a folded wad of bank notes. It didn't take Draco long, however, to do just as he'd threatened.
He waited only until they'd finished in the shop and were heading out for a bite to eat. Then he said in a casual voice that he thought Harry probably needed to see Marsha a good deal more often, since he'd overreacted to a pinned shirt.
"You're the one who overreacted." Harry turned to his father and briefly explained.
"And of course you just believe him," said Draco. "Whereas with me, you always--"
Snape didn't let him finish. "I don't doubt your word without cause, either. And you know it."
Draco seemed chastened by that. "Yes, sir," he said in a quiet voice. And then, even more quietly, "I was just worried about Harry, that's all."
Harry thought there was more to it than that, but he also thought that maybe Draco needed some real reassurance about the needles. Whatever else was going on, it did seem like his brother was genuinely worried. "Look," he said, drawing Snape and Draco both into a little alleyway. "You name the day and time, all right? And I'll pensieve it out for you to see, and you'll know. I'm not saying I'm . . . er, cured, or anything. I'm just saying, I've managed not to, all right?"
Snape seemed to sigh, slightly. "This isn't the place to discuss the matter."
"Can we borrow it, though?" asked Harry, meaning the pensieve.
"We don't need to," said Draco, obviously understanding. Well, he'd seen Dumbledore's pensieve in the headmaster's office, too. "I believe you."
"Believe me next time you ask, too," said Harry. "If I need help, I'm going to say so."
Draco looked a little bit unsure, but he merely nodded. "All right. Let's just have some dinner. And then we can go back to the shop. Our suits should be ready, by then."