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"Draco's evening sessions are just such an arrangement and he's hardly a celebrity."

Harry latched onto that idea at once. "Draco's session, right. Let's schedule mine right after his. Or before, so we only have to go out to Surrey once a week."

"You needn't worry about inconveniencing me, Harry--"

"It's not that. I'd just rather, all right? And besides, this'll let me try a few days without . . . er, needles. I'd like to see how I do."

Snape raised an eyebrow. "Very well, but remember what I told you last night. If at any time you feel that temptation is getting the better of you, you're to come get me at once. Yes?"

"Yes," said Harry, relieved. The itch in his arms subsided a little, becoming more like a dull, dry ache. He was a little worried it would become worse the closer his appointment got, but for the moment he thought he could manage.

"Now, there is something else we should discuss," said Snape. "From what I gleaned from your thoughts, it seems you've been ignoring my request that you never walk the halls unaccompanied."

"No, I haven't!" The moment he said it though, Harry remembered something. "Oh. Yeah, when I went to talk with Remus."

"And?"

"That's it, sir. I swear." Harry looked his father in the eye. "I admit I was sneaking off to the loo alone and such, but walking the halls? That's the only time."

"I'm disappointed in your friends. Draco would not have made such a mistake."

Harry hadn't thought about it before; he'd been too glad to have a chance for a moment alone with his needle. "Well, I guess Ron and Hermione must have thought I was in for a long conversation with McGonagall and she'd walk me to the Great Hall afterwards. I don't blame them -- I'm sure they thought that when they weren't out there, I'd be responsible enough to ask, right?"

"No doubt they went snogging down dark alleys again."

Uh-oh. His father sounded a little more than merely disappointed. "Probably they just went to eat. Look, what I was doing was my doing. Don't take it out on them. Please?"

Snape stared at him for a moment, then gave a curt nod. "However, you will be more careful in future. I know it's not enjoyable, pretending to be so much in need of protection, but the feint may well keep you alive in the final battle against Voldemort."

Harry chewed his lip. "Hmm. Maybe Remus will find out that Voldemort already knows I'm strong, anyway, and then I can give it up."

"Perhaps," said Snape, though he looked like he found that scenario doubtful.

The noise of the door opening distracted Harry from wondering if his father doubted Voldemort's information or Remus' ability to play Lucius.

"Ah, good. You're up," said Draco as he walked in, his trunk floating behind him. "Too much sleep is a sign of depression, Harry, and we can't have that--"

Harry sighed. "If you go back to acting like you think you're some kind of psychiatric expert--"

Draco held up his hands. "All right, I'll watch it." He looked from Severus to Harry and back. "So, any news?"

"I'll be contacting Dr. Goode about scheduling therapy for Harry on Wednesdays."

Draco waved his wand a little to send his trunk sailing into the bedroom. "Harry can have my session."

"The fact that I allowed you to postpone it one week does not mean I believe you have no further need of it."

Shrugging, Draco turned away. "All right. Well, I'm going to go settle in, then."

Harry stood up from the table. "Wait. What did you tell Slytherin to explain moving out early?"

"Oh, the Elixir thing, like Severus said. We share a room so I'm helping to monitor you." Draco grinned. "I'm not such a bad liar now, Harry. Not as long as I Occlude. Though I can't fool Severus. Maybe with more practice, eh?"

Snape gave Draco a bit of a hard look.

"What? Don't you want me to become thoroughly competent?" Laughing, Draco went into his room to unpack.

"I'll need to inform Albus of the new living arrangements," said Snape, shaking his head as he walked over to the Floo. "Rest assured, I'll only say that we have some family problems to work out."

As Snape's hand reached for the powder, it stilled, his dark eyes returning to Harry's face. "Ah, yes. I think it best for the time being if you don't have access to any Floo powder, Harry. You might, in a moment of weakness, decide to use the network to find privacy. I trust you understand my meaning?"

Harry nodded. He understood, all right. It was the same reason, basically, why he hadn't taken his map when he'd been offered it. "Keep it out of reach, sure." His forehead creased. "I hope we don't have some emergency, though."

"A wanded Accio would certainly bring you what you ask, but the destruction to my wards would be quite evident."

"In other words, I couldn't hide that I'd gone off somewhere." Harry felt both better and worse, hearing that. He didn't like the feeling that he was being watched. But his father was doing what was best. Harry knew that.

Mention of the Floo brought the previous night to mind, anyway, when he'd flooed off after that fight with Draco. Stupid fight, as it turned out. Draco had just wanted to talk to Harry, and not about needles, and it was no wonder he'd got a bit irate when Harry kept ignoring him like that.

It made Harry wonder exactly what Draco had wanted, anyway.

------------------------------------------------------

"So, you wanted to talk to me," Harry said as he sat down on his bed, one leg bent underneath the other. "I think there was something you wanted? I'm really sorry I wouldn't listen to you before."

Draco turned a page in the book he was reading and kept his gaze focussed straight down. "Not a problem."

"So, what was it that you wanted to talk about?"

The other boy glanced up.  "Forget it, Harry. It wasn't anything very important."

"Of course it was," exclaimed Harry. "You got really upset--"

"Well, let's just say I've had a paradigm shift," said Draco calmly. "What matters now is helping you. You haven't had any urges to . . . er, stick yourself, have you? This morning?"

His arms had itched some, but not more than he could stand. "Not really."

"Good. Let's keep it that way." Draco went back to reading his book.

It took Harry a minute to realise he'd been outmanoeuvred, the subject neatly changed. "All right, back to you," he said in a decisive tone, going over to sit on the edge of Draco's bed instead. "Don't tell me it wasn't important. It obviously was important to you. So, out with it." When Draco ignored him, Harry reached out and plucked the book from his hands. "Come on!"

Draco grabbed it back. "You don't take a hint, do you?"

"What do I have to do, beg?"

Setting his book down, Draco crossed his arms. "I should never have brought it up in the first place, Harry. You have enough in your cauldron."

Harry drew in a deep breath. "Fine, I'll beg. Draco, please tell me what it was you wanted--"

"No."

The refusal sounded so emphatic that Harry stopped to think. Gryffindor forthrightness wasn't getting him very far, so maybe he needed a more Slytherin approach. "Well, I suppose for all your denials you must be upset with me after all, then. If you won't treat me like your brother and tell me what's on your mind."

Draco looked up, his silver eyes narrowed. "That's low."

Harry shrugged and tried his best to make sure his own eyes were hard. "I'd like to think you trust me enough to tell me anything--"

"It's not a matter of trust, you arse! Some things are just . . . just . . . personal!"

"You have to remember to Occlude when you lie," said Harry dryly. "Sure it's personal. It's so personal that up until today, you were practically begging me to let you say whatever it was."

"I was not!"

"Were too!"

"Was not!"

This was rapidly turning into a farce, Harry thought wryly. "Just tell me, Draco!"

The other boy sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. "Fine. Don't forget you begged me, though. Because it's going to sound pretty self-centred, bringing it up after what I found out last night. And I didn't want to, and you'd just better remember that--"