Him, Draco could do without.
Or perhaps not, since less than five minutes later, the man came marching up to the gate and shouted through it. Such abysmal manners. No breeding at all.
Well, at least Rhiannon was only related to him by marriage.
"How many times have I told you the rules for on duty? You're not to read, or file your nails, or chat up friends! You're to watch the children so they don't drown! And for God's sake, start getting here on time! What do I have to do, drag you here at eight when I come in to the office?"
Rhiannon waited until her uncle had stomped away, and then slouched in her chair. "He's always on about something. Honestly, I was only five minutes late, today. And nobody has drowned here, yet."
Draco swept his gaze over the shallow pool where the children were splashing. "Looks to me like you're doing a fine job."
Rhiannon smiled, just a little, even as she said, "Thanks, Draco. But I suppose you'd better go over to the other pool. Before I get sacked."
"He wouldn't. You're family."
"Ha."
She knows she's not really like him, Draco thought.
"Go change and have a swim," added Rhiannon. "Really. If I lose this job, I'll have to drop out of the summer theatre project."
Draco would much rather have talked with her further, but there was no point in getting her in trouble, even if the uncle was a rude, unreasonable type. Rhiannon needed his good will, much as that might rankle.
Actually, she didn't truly need him; Draco would be very happy to arrange an apartment for Rhiannon, and he could afford better than the slightly grotty house he'd walked her to the night before last. But it would be highly inappropriate to suggest such a thing until he knew her better. A lot better.
Or maybe it wouldn't be, among Muggles? Draco didn't know, but he didn't want to take the risk. He was lucky enough that Rhiannon had got over her shock about his "wand" gaffe. And anyway, it would be a bad idea to treat her like he thought she was a Muggle. He was going to give Rhiannon all the consideration and respect due a pure-blooded witch, since that's exactly what she was, little though she knew it.
"What time is your lunch?" he quickly asked. "Perhaps I could take you somewhere and we could talk, then."
Rhiannon glanced back at the cement bleachers where Severus was sitting. "No, no thank you. You're here with your family."
Draco threw her his most winning smile. "Oh, they won't mind if we go off alone."
"Oh, alone?" Rhiannon looked relieved at that. "I thought you meant with your father and brother."
"I didn't, but you know, he doesn't bite," said Draco. "Even if he does teach . . . er, chemistry."
"He looks forbidding, though. Just like--"
"Rhiannon!"
That time, the uncle yelled at her from all the way across the pool complex. Under any other circumstances, Draco would have hexed his mouth off and solved the problem that way. But with Severus watching, the Ministry alert for underage magic, and Rhiannon unaware that Draco's wand was for more than show?
Yes, best to let sleeping dogs lie, Draco thought again as he headed out of the children's area.
"My lunch is at twelve sharp," called Rhiannon after him.
Draco nodded to show he'd heard. And then for good measure, he threw her another smile.
------------------------------------------------------
"That uncle of hers is a real lout," Draco said under his breath as he sat down alongside his father.
"For expecting her to pay mind to her responsibilities?"
"Oh, she can watch the children and talk both," groused Draco. Sighing, he tugged at his collar. "Hot today."
Severus kept his gaze on Harry as he spoke. "You didn't bring your swim things, I noticed."
Draco huffed, still feeling like he'd been cheated of something precious. Almost an entire hour to talk with Rhiannon, and that uncle had spoiled it. "Why would I have brought them? I thought I'd spend the whole time chatting her up! And now I have to sit here roasting, instead!"
"It's not that warm."
"Says the man who dresses in layers to go to the shower."
That got Severus to look at him, but only for a moment. "If you're so very hot, take off your shirt."
"Oh, sure," said Draco, crossing his arms. "Without the lotion?"
"Harry brought his."
Draco could hardly believe his ears. "I can't possibly use his," he said, lowering his voice to a hiss. "His doesn't have the mugwort I need! You know, to bring back the--"
"I am aware of how that particular plant essence functions, thank you," interrupted Severus, his voice a tad frosty. "Watch what you say."
Draco felt a bit bad, then. It was his own fault if he'd worn the wrong clothes. A nice shirt and trousers . . . he'd looked at himself in the mirror that morning and the glass had cooed at him. It really had. But now he wished he'd put on the sunscreen. It did a lot more than keep him from turning red and blistery. The mugwort in it reached down into his skin and pulled a glamour to the surface. A special glamour that only lasted for limited spans of time, but it was better than nothing. Magically induced scarring was notoriously difficult to conceal. Draco's own spells had done nothing to hide the awful splotch of rough, ridged skin that covered a good portion of his chest. Thank Merlin Severus had known one that worked in conjunction with mugwort, or else Draco would never have been able to take off his shirt at the pool.
"Sorry," murmured Draco. "Your lotion's brilliant. I just wish I'd realised what a prick her uncle was going to be."
"Talk like that isn't likely to endear you to the young lady."
"Oh, I don't think she can stand him, either." Draco had to resist an urge to smirk. "And once I explain everything to her, she'll know why he rubs her the wrong way."
Severus shook his head. "Unlikely, Draco. Whatever his faults, he's family to her. Think about it. You say things about Harry that would be duelling words if you heard anyone else make the same remarks. I'd advise you to let her complain all she likes about her uncle. But if you want her to look on you favourably, you'd best do little more in reply than smile and nod."
Hmm, probably good advice, Draco thought, even if Severus didn't seem to ever have had much luck in the romance department, himself. Hmm. Maybe that had a lot to do with the hair, really. "Oh. I'm taking Rhiannon to lunch at noon," he thought he'd better mention. "Perhaps we could meet back here, afterwards? Free swim opens at one and Harry might want a chance to practice. We haven't used our swim passes yet, you realise."
"Oh, Harry might want a chance to practise. You're thinking only of him, are you?"
Draco shrugged, a small smile playing about his lips. "Well, I did think the two of you might go home for lunch, and then Harry could bring my trunks back. Oh, and my lotion, of course, and then I could get a swim in as well. Or perhaps I'll just lie out in the sun."
"Where the young lady can see you, I've no doubt."
Draco flushed. It was a bit embarrassing that his father found him so obvious. Hmm, maybe Severus had been around the pitch, so to speak, more than Draco had thought. Well, he just hoped that Rhiannon couldn't see straight through him, like that.
"Harry seems to be coming along," Draco said, glancing down to where his brother was performing an extremely uncoordinated crawl stroke. It looked more like flailing than swimming, but he was managing to stay afloat and make his way across the shallow end of the pool, so Draco supposed it was a start. "Not bad, considering it's just his first week learning."
"Mr Yates characterises his progress as excellent," murmured Severus.
"Yates?"
"The young man instructing."
Oh, Roger, then. Draco nodded. "That only makes sense, really. How long did it take Harry to get the hang of . . . er, the only sport our school offers? He's really good at physical activities."
"And likely to put those talents to use, playing for his own House again, next year."