"Probably shouldn't feel so good over you wanting to skewer them on your wand," he muttered.
"Anyone would feel that way."
Harry didn't want to waste thought on the Dursleys any longer. "Yeah," he said thickly, trying to come up with something to get them off the topic. "Hey . . . didn't I ward that street Draco turned onto? And I didn't hear any clang, like you said I would, if somebody else magical crossed the trip wires--" He nodded, glad to have it confirmed, once and for all. Not that there'd really ever been any doubt. "Rhiannon Miller's not a witch."
"Definitely, time for that meal," said Snape briskly. He began walking, striding off in the opposite direction from the one Draco had taken, and as he did, he flicked his wand to dissolve the notice-me-not charm he'd cast over himself and Harry earlier. "Mind what you say and do, now."
Harry didn't need the reminder, but said nothing of it. When they came alongside a pub he realised how hungry he was. Pizza would have been great, but he didn't want to hunt up a place that made it. "I could fancy a shepherd's pie," he hinted, slowing his steps. "And a pint."
He actually didn't think that Snape would get him one, but was pleasantly pleased when the man came back from the bar carrying two tall mugs of Guinness.
"Wow. Thanks."
"The least I can do. You spared me the pizza."
Harry chuckled, but not for long. In the next moment, Snape started looking grim. "As well, you'll probably need it once you hear what I'd most like you to do for me."
Uh-oh. Harry didn't have any notion what that might mean. The first thought that flashed through his head was made up of two words: mutual repudiation. But that was just stupid. He wasn't worried about that any longer!
Harry thought better than to start guessing out loud. "If you need something, I'd be glad to help. Whatever it is," he said, meaning every word. The idea that he could do something for this man who'd done so very much for him--it filled him with a sudden sense of excitement. Glee, almost. Until he thought of one thing.
"Oh. Um, if you want me to quarrel less with Draco, I should probably mention that I have been trying really hard already--"
"You have." That felt almost like a well done, at least until Snape continued speaking. "Except in regards to one thing, I should say."
Ha. Harry didn't need to guess about that, did he? "Rhiannon," he said, the name sounding a bit dull. He could guess the rest of it, too. "Yeah, Marsha said I ought to let Draco make his own mistakes."
"Did she."
"No need to be snide," said Harry, almost snappishly. He took a deep breath and tried again. "Sorry, sir. I just meant that she practically lectured me about it."
"And did nothing that she had to say strike you as worthwhile?"
That question had Harry gulping down some beer. "Yeah, some," he grudgingly admitted. "We talked about how maybe I kind of resented this whole romance thing because I feel like we should all be a bit more serious. About . . . er . . ." Conscious of the Muggles all around, Harry lowered his voice. "You know, things of interest to the old crowd."
"Ah."
"God, you're worse than Marsha sometimes, you know that?" Harry blew out a breath that made his fringe fly up, for a second. "She goes on with 'Ah' and 'Mmm-hmm' and 'I see' sometimes, just to make me talk things out more."
"Does she."
"Oh, stop it," said Harry, laughing that time. "You don't have to prod me into talking, you know. You can just ask. So anyway, yeah, we talked about that a bit, and how I love the swimming lessons but almost feel guilty taking time out for them, when I could be working on more important things, and how maybe that's all part of why I want Draco to stop being such a blind git about Rhiannon. 'Cause then he'd give up on this romance deal, see? Though for the record, I would also like to point out that I really do think he's on the rebound and likely to get his heart broken. Again."
Snape took a moment to drink down half his stout, then said in a serious voice, "You know, Harry, your being able to avoid death by drowning is actually quite important."
Harry's laugh that time was a little nervous. "Well, sure. I didn't mean--"
"You did. You constantly discount your own worth except as it relates to helping others."
No doubt about it, the man was worse than Marsha. She sometimes had startling insights to share, too, but they were never delivered so ruthlessly.
"Well, I know I can't help anybody if I'm dead--"
"Merlin preserve me, you're missing the point again," said Snape, sighing as he leaned forward. "You're more than a strategic asset, you idiot child!"
"I know."
"Do you?"
"Yes!" Harry lowered his voice when he noticed a couple of heads turning at his outburst. "It's just hard for me. You don't know. No offence, but no matter how angry you are with my aunt and uncle, you can't know what it's like to be me. I was always, always told how worthless I was and then right at the same time I finally got my first friends ever, people were falling all over themselves just hearing my name. Even Ron did, at first, though I know that's not why he became my friend. And Draco . . ." Harry swallowed, hating the memory. He loved Draco, but there was no denying that even now he was still a bit of a stuck-up supercilious prat. "He tried to get me to ditch Ron for him, did you know that? Before we were ever sorted. All because of my name."
"Draco mentioned that to me, months ago."
"Oh." Harry didn't know why that surprised him; it wasn't like Severus and Draco had never had long talks of their own, after all. "Um, what did he say about it?"
Snape looked like he was about to disclose something rather significant, but then he shook his head. "I think you'd better broach the topic with him yourself, if you wish to know."
"Oh, all right." Their meals came then, a welcome distraction. Harry took one bite and reached for the salt and pepper. Hogwarts cooking had probably spoiled him. Though this wasn't bad.
He finished his drink, a bit bemused at the way Snape took charge of the conversation while they ate. Not that he was complaining. He often thought that he didn't know enough about his father, so it was a welcome change to listen to him tell a few stories about his own school days. Edited, of course, because of their surroundings, but Harry could read between the lines.
Finally, though, it was past half-nine, almost time to go meet Draco, and Harry knew they'd better get back on track. He wasn't sure why Snape hadn't brought the subject of Rhiannon Miller up again. Perhaps he thought they'd settled things? Or maybe, Harry realised with a small pang, he believed Harry was refusing the favour he'd been asked.
"So, Rhiannon," Harry said, the moment there was a lull in Snape's wry comments about his "botany" class back at school. "I guess you don't want me to tell Draco what we found out."
"It's more a case of it being fairly pointless. He'd find a way to explain the alarm not sounding."
True, Harry though, remembering his brother's ridiculous insistence that Rhiannon was sending him coded messages based on the telly. It was pretty difficult to imagine anyone being more in denial than that.
"We're going to tell him about the wires, though, aren't we?"
Snape raised his chin a fraction. "Are you proposing otherwise? You, the advocate of fewer secrets in the family?"
"No, I wasn't suggesting otherwise. It's just that Draco's clever enough to realise on his own that the wires could prove or disprove his wild ideas. So I wondered how he was going to explain it all away, that's all."
"He'll doubtless find a way."
"Yeah," said Harry, glum. "So then, the whole wire thing, it wasn't partly to catch her out." For a little while there, he'd wondered. "That goes without saying, I suppose."
Snape gave him a look as though to indicate that if it went without saying, Harry shouldn't have said it.