"Slytherin doesn't mean sneaky so much, anyway," Harry said. He wasn't sure why he'd avoided saying "the Sorting Hat," considering how well he and Snape were currently concealed. The diversion spell made sure that nobody would pay attention to anything they said or did. Perhaps all that practice watching what he said at the pool. "I get that now. It's more a different way of figuring out how to get things done."
They'd reached the theatre by then. Snape drew Harry down an alleyway beside it. "The direct approach isn't always the best solution to a problem."
"Like telling Draco he can't come to Exeter, instead of going to all this work to make sure that he'll be safe when he does," murmured Harry.
Snape inclined his head. "Exactly. Yes."
Harry personally thought that criss-crossing Exeter with trip wires to help Draco was short-sighted. What they ought to be doing was curing him of his Rhiannon-obsession, not helping him indulge it still further. Marsha would call it enabling, Harry thought. Except, she wouldn't call it that in this case, since she thought Harry ought to leave Draco to his crazed romance, no matter how it turned out.
He didn't want to believe that Snape thought that same. "You could make him obey you, though. I'm sure you could. About the Apparition."
"And when he gains his license to Apparate when and as he sees fit?"
"Well, he'll still be living in your house and have to follow your rules. You said that yourself."
"He'll be seventeen soon, and of an age to make his own decisions, Harry. It's not as though he's short of funds and unable to establish a separate residence, foolish as that might be while the war is ongoing--"
"Oh, no. I shouldn't have given him Sirius' money, you mean?"
"No." Snape looked impatient. "That was well-done of you. My point is this: I've no desire to drive either of my sons from what is now rightfully their home. Negotiation, remember?"
Yeah, Harry did. And he could see Snape's point. Well, sort of. He'd still rather that somebody would put a foot down here. But clearly, that wasn't going to happen. And Snape was right; being too strict about seeing Rhiannon probably would drive Draco away. So that just wasn't on.
"Shall I continue with the trip wires, then?" asked Snape, his voice still more impatient than Harry would have liked. "Since you've apparently no intention of assisting?"
That made him sound a bit of a prat. Harry didn't like the feeling that Snape might see him that way, just now. "I didn't say that. I'll give the spell my best effort, though you know there are a few that I've never made work."
"Yes, I know. Time will set it all to rights, I've no doubt."
Harry nodded. He thought so, too; his lexicon was growing daily, now, though some of his spells were a little strange, like his firefly-Lumos, as he'd taken to thinking of it. "One thing, though. Are you sure your discretion spell will be enough?"
"I am actually competent in the magical arts," Snape said, his voice very dry. "Or did you need to review my N.E.W.T. results again?"
Harry didn't back down. "I trust your casting. I was just wondering if it would cover my Parseltongue. You know, how the Death Eaters had figured out to locate me by listening for it? I'd hate to draw them here, when the whole point of this is to keep Draco as safe as possible."
"Ah. A valid point." Snape actually looked impressed, Harry thought. And that certainly didn't happen very often. "But the spell will still serve."
Harry waved a hand through the air, wiggling his fingers. "All right. Um . . . nobody will see, but do you want me to hold my wand in hand? On principle?"
"It makes it more difficult to learn a new spell, I think?"
It sure did. Harry had to figure out the right translation and be sure he didn't accidentally let any spell energy flow from his hand into his wand. Which was tricky with new spells, as you never really knew what direction the energy would want to go.
Snape must have read the answer in his face. "No wand at present, then," he conceded. "Though in class I'm afraid there is no alternative. For the time being."
Harry shrugged to say it didn't matter. Or maybe he meant more than that. He didn't like to be different, after all. He'd rather not have everybody aware that he could do wandless magic. That he had to do it, if he wanted his spells to come out right, instead of frighteningly strong. It was bad enough that everyone knew he had to cast in Parseltongue.
He took the coil of wire from Snape and laid a length of it across the alley, easily snipping it with his personal version of Cortus. Carefully angling the ends of the wire to point skyward, as Snape had done, Harry stepped back. Fingers splayed, he waved his arm in an arc.
"Wider. You do want the spell to fill the entire alley."
Harry started over, this time waving his arm more dramatically. Then, it was just a matter of glancing at the snake image etched into his glasses, and saying what the spell meant to him. Bugger the Latin. Sometimes Harry's versions weren't even close to the formal translations.
"Tell ussss if people like us sssslither through here," he tried, bemused when he heard how that came out. People didn't slither, but of course snakes had only one means of movement.
The thin thread of gold at Harry's feet didn't even glow.
Damn.
He was pretty used to his first attempt at a new spell failing, though. Casting in Parseltongue could really be a pain in the arse. Nobody knew that better than him. Ha--it was more like, nobody but him knew it at all.
Sometimes that made him feel pretty much alone, but he couldn't feel that way now, not with his father standing right alongside him, patiently waiting for Harry to test another way of calling forth the spell.
"Don't let men like ussss crosssss you . . ."
That time, he knew even before he finished that the spell would fail. The trip wire wasn't supposed to trap magical folk, after all. It was just supposed to alert Snape--or Harry--if any wizards or witches walked through here. Snape had explained earlier that Draco was likely to want lots of time alone with Rhiannon. Short of hanging about in Exeter several evenings a week, Snape needed a way to know at once if the town ceased to be a place full of Muggles alone.
"Won't Draco trip the wires himself, though?" Harry had asked.
"Exactly why we're using wire. With a physical anchor for the spell, it's possible to exclude specific individuals. I arranged in advance for the wire to ignore you and Draco, as well as myself. Anyone else carrying a wand, registered or no, will trip the wire. So to speak."
Harry had started slightly, halfway through that explanation. "Um. . .you didn't use anything like a lineage potion, I hope."
Snape expression had darkened. "What have I told you about only one of us here being the father?"
Once, Harry would have backed down at that, but he had a firmer sense these days, of where Snape's real limits were. "I'm allowed to look out for you," he insisted. "We're family."
"So we are." Snape paused, but only briefly. "A lineage potion would only link to those named Snape, assuming I am the brewer. However, trip wires by their very nature allow one to be as specific as needs be. All that is required is access to the wands of the wizards one wishes to exclude from the spell."
Harry felt better once he'd heard all that. He did trust Snape, of course, but sometimes he wondered about all the dark magic the man must be familiar with. Too much of it could twist your soul, and he'd hate to think of Snape putting himself at risk like that, even to help Draco.
Especially to help Draco with something like this.
Harry shook himself away from thoughts like that. They'd only make him want to not cast the spell, and that would hardly help his magic flow. So . . . how else to translate Snape's smoothly delivered Avisato Alambrum?