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Reasonable question, but nothing in his life had ever been reasonable, Harry thought. "It might get somebody killed. What if the one spell I don't learn today is the one I need when the war all comes to a head?"

"I think it's more likely that clear-thinking will be of use. Which brings us back to the idea of too much work. I see this all the time in the academic realm. Quite often, the students who study all the time do worse than those who know when to give themselves a well-needed break. You might consider that Draco is doing what he needs to do."

"Still doesn't change the fact that she's a Muggle," muttered Harry.

"Nor the fact that if she is, you can't protect him from it."

Harry stood up and fished the gum wrapper from his pocket, then walked over to the wastepaper basket and spat his gum out into the foil-covered paper. "I guess I'm used to protecting people," he said when he walked back. "No wonder I feel guilty, just goofing around this summer. Well, I am working on some things," he added, thinking of his spell lexicon. "But I still think that Draco's in for a bad time with this girl."

"What does your father think?"

"He doesn't say too much. But he did tell me that it's likely she's a Muggle, yeah. And he told Draco he had to introduce me as Harry Potter so we'd all know for sure."

"How did you feel about that?"

Without Snape or Draco there, Harry didn't have to worry about anyone's feelings. He had a few choice words about being Harry Potter again instead of just Harry. More than a few.

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Draco was up before Harry on Wednesday morning. Wearing nothing but swimming trunks, he was turning this way and that as he examined himself critically in the mirrors on the inside of the wardrobe doors. Harry blinked, reaching for his glasses, but Draco didn't seem to notice that he was awake and watching.

"Hmm. Maybe blue, after all," said Draco, twirling his wand to make his trunks change colour. "No. I still look awfully pale."

Harry sat up, careful not to be too quiet about it, but Draco didn't seem to mind Harry being there. "What do you think? Should I cast a glamour to give myself a bit of a tan? I didn't like the way Rhiannon said that I didn't look like I swam much."

"You don't look like you'd tan, though," said Harry.

Draco cast a glamour anyway, and then shivered a little. "Oh. No. No, no."

"Doesn't look natural," agreed Harry. Actually, it was ever so slightly greenish in tone. "It's probably interacting with the glamour that your sun lotion pulls up to the surface, you think?"

"Yes, I think. As if I need reminding that if not for Severus' special formulation of sun lotion, I'd have to go about with a big blotchy scar all over my chest!"

Harry shook his head. The scar wasn't red and raw any longer, though it would be a stretch to say that it was hardly noticeable. "It's not that bad. Just kind of . . . large."

"Well, I don't want Rhiannon to see it."

Personally, Harry thought this Rhiannon would be pretty shallow to let something like a scar put her off. On the other hand, he could understand what it was like to feel self-conscious about a scar. At least his could be hidden behind his fringe, most times. Draco couldn't hide his during a swim unless he swam with a shirt on, which would be quite odd.

So perhaps it was just as well that Severus had found a way to mask the scar. The lotion only worked for short periods, but that was better than nothing.

Harry sighed. Draco might be looking forward to the pool, but Harry had reason not to.  "So are you really going to introduce me as Harry Potter, like Dad wants?"

"Dad didn't give me much choice."

Harry tried hard to keep his voice level. "What are you going to do if she's a Muggle, Draco?"

"She's not. She's absolutely not, and if you hadn't been raised in such a deprived atmosphere, you'd be able to tell that for yourself. She's got a certain je ne sais quoi."

"Well, I guess we'll know soon."

Not too soon, though, as it turned out. Rhiannon wasn't anywhere to be seen when Harry emerged from the changing rooms to start his lesson, though again, there was a line of children waiting at the wading pool. Harry couldn't resist. "Whatever she is, she doesn't do a very good job here. Late every day?"

Draco glared at him and plucked Harry's glasses off his nose. "Just go blow your bubbles."

Harry headed toward the big pool, where Roger was waiting. This time he felt less nervous about stepping down into the water. As much as it had felt like he might drown during the previous lesson, he'd learned that Roger wouldn't let him. Or Severus or Draco, of course. But this was Muggle swimming, wasn't it, so Harry felt better now that he had a little confidence in his Muggle instructor.

They started with floating again. This time Harry could manage it for a few seconds at a stretch. The trick was to relax. Roger had told him that before, but Harry hadn't really been able to put the advice into practice. After his session with Marsha, though, he had a new perspective on relaxing. It really could be important. Maybe he wasn't wasting his summer, after all.

Though he did wish he could be more actively investigating the Mirror of All Souls. Well, maybe Hermione would find something out once she got some books from Viktor.

"Let's try some kickboard, now," said Roger after a few more minutes of practicing floating. "You need to learn how to kick effectively. Then we'll add arms and you'll be surprised how quickly it all comes together."

When Harry glanced up through the water dripping into his eyes, Draco was still sitting on the concrete bleachers, right alongside their father. He couldn't tell for sure if Rhiannon war around yet, but since Draco just looked bored, she probably hadn't.

"Try putting your face in the water as you kick across the pool," said Roger.

And that was the end of Harry trying to spot what might be going on with Rhiannon. He did notice at one point that Draco was diving into the deep end of the pool. He started swimming laps back and forth, staying well away from Harry's lesson.

Even so, Harry couldn't help but see that Draco looked to be an expert swimmer who knew lots of different strokes.

"You'll get there," said Roger in a bracing voice. Only then did Harry realise he'd been staring. Studiously ignoring Draco then, Harry concentrating on keeping his legs from flopping in all directions as he practiced his kick.

"Good work today," said his instructor after about another half-hour.

Harry climbed out of the pool and shook himself all over, water spraying everywhere until Snape appeared and handed him a towel. Draco got out as well, but then he climbed the ladder to a springboard about a dozen feet above the water, and executed a very smart dive, complete with some kind of a twist.

Oh. Harry got it, then. Sure enough, when he glanced over toward the children's pool, Rhiannon was there, sitting in her lifeguard chair, leaning slightly sideways as if she'd rather sleep. She wasn't looking over at the big pool, though, so Harry figured that Draco's attempt to impress her was going to be a wasted effort.

And that, of course, was bound to be the least of his disappointments, since any moment now Draco would be finding out that she wasn't at all what he'd assumed. Feeling sorry for his brother, then, Harry gave him an encouraging smile and passed him the towel that Snape was holding out. "Really good dive."

Draco shrugged. "Not so hard to learn when you have the right, er, assistance."

Diving charms, Harry figured he meant.

Draco dried his hair and slicked it back with his fingers, then wrapped the towel around his hips. After a moment, he draped it around his shoulders instead. Then he shoved it at Harry. "I think maybe I should do without."