He didn't mean to ask, but he had to say something. "Er . . . so, somebody here at Hogwarts, then?"
"Several somebodies," said Snape dryly. "I had a bit of what you might call a wandering eye. But then, that could have been because I was no more attractive then than I am now, and when the object of my . . . affection was clearly looking elsewhere, I tended to, as well. Slytherin pragmatism."
"You're not unattractive--"
Snape's eyes narrowed. "And to think, Poppy swore those new glasses of yours were the right prescription."
Harry tucked a finger under his collar to loosen it. When had it got so hot? "Uh . . . no, I can see just fine. I meant, well, now that I know you, I see you sort of differently, and you know, if you'd just, er . . . "
He stopped himself before he mentioned shampoo.
"I came to terms long ago with the fact that I'm hardly every woman's ideal," said Snape, shaking his head.
"But you're so clever, at all sorts of things, and you're really brave, spying all those years, and so loyal, saving me like that, and--"
"Oh, do go on. This is fascinating; I'm apparently a member of every house except Slytherin--"
"And you're so funny, all the time, just like that!"
"You needn't try so hard to spare my feelings, Harry." Snape glanced away, as if considering what to say, then gave a slight shrug. "As you say, I have some traits that compensate. It's not as though I've never partaken of the joys of . . . feminine companionship, shall we say."
That was better than in lust, Harry decided. He blushed a little more, even so, as he asked in as diffident a voice as he could, "Anybody I know, then?"
"I do believe you're acquainted with Irma Pince, yes."
Harry almost spat out his tea, he was so shocked. As it was, he managed to swallow before gasping out, "Oh, my God."
"Have I mentioned how much I admire your gift of tact?"
"That wasn't tactful," said Harry ruefully, ashamed of himself, by then. Well, nothing for it now but to try to erase the gaffe. Polite interest might be the tack to take. "Uh, well, I guess it didn't work out? Is it hard having her on staff, now?"
"She was on staff then, too," said Snape, his mouth lilting up a little at the corners, his voice rich with fond remembrance.
Too rich, Harry suddenly realised. "You're having me on!"
Snape's smile widened. "Of course I am, you idiot child. Ah, but there's a good question. Will you object to being called that, now that you've passed your seventeenth birthday?"
"No, you can call me that." Harry thought he'd miss it, if Snape ever stopped. Idiot child wasn't about age, any more than the adoption had been about the paperwork. "That's a bit low, though, making me think about you and Madam Pince like that!"
If Snape noticed Harry's shudder, he didn't remark on it. "I suppose all I meant to say was that for all I'm willing to speak to you about my past, things like the details of my affaires de coeur aren't mine alone to tell."
"Well, that cured me of asking for them," said Harry, smiling a little. "But you shouldn't get upset just because I'm trying to respect your boundaries, like about Hostilian."
"You sound so grown-up."
"Well, Marsha says things like that. All the time."
"Ah." Snape tapped his fingertips together. "Hostilian Snape is best left undiscussed. You must trust me on that, Harry. But I don't wish for you to generalise the limitation. You're my son. If my past can't be precisely an open book to you . . . well, I'd rather it not be a closed one, either."
"I'm your beloved son," said Harry, a little smugly. "You said so. In front of everyone. Bit surprising, really."
"Tradition," said Snape gruffly, but at Harry's quick glance, his voice softened. "A good tradition."
Harry grinned. "I thought so. Thanks, Dad. For the goblets, and . . . well, you know. Everything." On the heels of that thought, though, came one that was much more depressing. "Have you seen the headmaster at all, today? Has he heard from Remus? Did he say?"
"Albus' Patronus found me in Devon. And yes, Lupin has been in contact with him. Your friend is safe and sound."
That last bit was almost sneered. Harry noticed, but decided to leave it be. Even though it reminded him of Snape's contemptuous claim that Remus had always kept himself safe and warm while others put themselves in danger, there was no point in having an argument.
"At any rate, there's to be an Order meeting this evening."
Harry twisted a lip. "Let me guess. Draco and I aren't invited--"
"What are you on about? You're members, and what's more, you're adults, now."
Harry sat up a little straighter. "Oh. I figured that with the war heating up, we'd get left out. Too dangerous, all that."
"Quite the contrary. You're both likely to be targeted, in one form or another, so the more information you have, the better. Ignorance may be bliss, but it's hardly conducive to true safety."
Harry gave a sharp nod, trying to be more like an Order member, and less like an eager child, even as he asked the question clanging through his mind. "And Remus? Will he be there?"
"He's the reason for the meeting." Snape stood up, his jaw taut. "He's to give a report. Perhaps he'll explain why we should allow him to continue his work, given the miserable job he's made of it thus far."
"He'd have told us if he'd known about the Ministry attack--"
"My point exactly."
So much for not arguing, thought Harry furiously. "He can't win, can he? If he does a good job, you'll hate him for usurping what you think of as your role in the Order, and if he does a lousy job, you'll sneer at him for not measuring up to the standard you set!"
Snape's robes billowed as he crossed his arms. "I know very well that you love him, Harry, but he does not deserve your approbation."
"How lucky that we don't all get what we deserve, then!" Harry blew out a breath, almost wishing he could call those words back. Almost. "Look, all I mean is that you set a really high bar, Dad. And don't you know, even if Remus manages to follow in your footsteps . . . the Order respecting him more doesn't mean they'll respect you less. It's like with having two sons, right? When you took on Draco, it didn't mean you had less love for me."
"That comparison is hardly instructive." Snape narrowed his eyes until they were almost slits. "Lupin is worthless, and totally incompetent as a spy, but I don't wish to discuss the matter further."
"Fine," said Harry, the word clipped. No talking about Hostilian, no discussing Snape's past loves, and no talk of Remus. But his father didn't want to be a closed book!
Harry was starting to wonder which pages the book would open to.
Thankfully, before he could say something he'd regret, Draco's door creaked open. He could have heard it all, since neither Harry nor Snape had thought to cast any privacy spells, but Draco had had better things to do than eavesdrop. "Rhiannon's the most clever girl in the world," he said, stepping out. "The most clever, I tell you. When I didn't show up for her premiere, she realised something serious must have happened, so after the opera, she borrowed her uncle's car and drove a couple of hours to get to Hermione's parents' house. Wrote me a lovely letter, not a trace of resentment in it, only concern over what might have prevented me from joining her--"
"Draco," Snape interrupted in a heavy voice, "I assume you've already composed a reply?"
"Yes, but I wasn't certain quite how much to tell her, let alone how to phrase it." Draco sighed. "Would you read the draft and give me suggestions, Severus?"
"I'd be pleased to assist."
Draco smiled, just a bit. "I thought you would be. Actually, I thought you'd want to see the letter in any case, considering. I went with a rogue-dark-wizard sort of approach. Harry and I had mentioned that much before, that even the wizarding world has its criminal types. And I touched on the war, but I didn't explain everything, of course--"