"Oh, I thought about it." Draco raised his chin still higher. "You ought to do the same."
Remus' voice took on a silky, smarmy tone. "With an attitude like that, you're likely beyond redemption. But since harsh measures have clearly only caused you to become ever more deranged . . ." His gaze lingered a moment on Harry. "I wish to propose a truce."
"How very magnanimous," drawled Draco. "I notice you don't have your wand out, though. So what sort of arrangement did you have in mind? You'll stop trying to kill me, and I'll . . . do what, exactly?"
Remus leaned closer and all but hissed in Draco's face. "Think about your future before it's too late!"
"I do nothing but think of my future," said Draco coldly. "You aren't in it."
Narcissa's gentle, almost childlike voice cut across her husband's reply. "Oh, Draco. Your father's trying. Can't you see that?"
"Severus is my father."
Remus made a noise of disgust under his breath.
"And Harry Potter is my brother," Draco went on. By then, Harry didn't know if the boy had forgotten who he was really talking to, or if all this animosity had a purpose. He should have remembered that his brother was a Slytherin. "So I have quite a distance to fly to see eye-to-eye with you again. But if you really mean what you say, about wishing you hadn't alienated me quite so spectacularly, then there is a way you can prove it."
"Oh, do enlighten me," drawled Remus.
"Greg's stuck by me this year through thick and through thin," said Draco. "If his father kills him for it, I'll know where he got the idea, won't I? Why don't you tell the man that threats and violence will only drive his son farther away from the Dark Lord's cause? Tell him you wished you'd gone about things differently, Father. Do that if you want any sort of truce."
Remus' lips had tightened. "Who do you think you are, you ungrateful whelp?"
"Now dear," said Narcissa softly. "You said yourself that it would be a pity if more young wizards followed Draco's example. Perhaps it would be a mistake indeed to allow Greg's father to repudiate his son."
"Since taking a hard line worked so very well with me," sneered Draco.
"I'll consider it," snapped Remus as he whirled away.
Narcissa threw Draco one last, sympathetic look and then hurried after her husband.
Once they were alone in the pansy-strewn field, Snape drew his wand and surrounded them with a silencing spell. Then, he merely stared at Draco.
"What?" asked the boy, his tone petulant. "What?"
"You know perfectly well what," said Snape, his voice only a step away from a snarl. "I assumed you wanted to come to the dedication so you might see your mother. I never dreamed you had a plot afoot."
Harry was a bit lost until Draco crossed his arms and erupted, "So I'd prefer Greg not be skewered and roasted over the holiday! You know his father! He'll listen to Lucius!"
"Oh, he no doubt will. But why did Lucius stop by to offer a truce, that's what I'd like to know! Don't you think it was a bit out of character, shall we say, for him?"
Draco drew his own wand and layered another privacy spell atop Snape's. Then he stood up straight, even though by then Snape was hovering over him like a Dementor about to pounce. "I asked him to."
"You asked him to."
"Yes!"
"And he, of course, was soft-hearted enough to accede to your request!" Snape bared his teeth. "This entire scheme is idiotic. He obviously doesn't have the intelligence of a gnat! Goyle's going to wonder what in Merlin's name is going on!"
"No, he won't," insisted Draco. "We worked it all out. R-- Lucius will drop a few hints to Narcissa and then she'll go over and talk to Greg's mother about what a shame it was Lucius took such a stern attitude towards me, and how she hopes they won't make the same mistake she and Lucius did. It'll be fine, Severus."
"It's proof that the entire scheme is ill-considered," said Snape, his dark eyes still flashing with anger. "He doesn't have what it will take to maintain this guise!"
That was just what worried Harry. "Well, there is that story about his head injury, anyway, right? To explain any . . . er, anomalies?"
Snape huffed. "Narcissa is not such a fool as to believe that for long. I dare say her husband's yet to so much as kick a house elf, Harry. No matter that he'd better do just that if he expects anyone to believe this charade!"
"He can kick all the elves he likes as long as he keeps his paws off my mother," muttered Draco. "It makes me sick to even think about it. Are you sure we can't warn my mother what sort of . . . thing, she's living with?"
"If you'd like to get her killed, by all means," drawled Snape. "Few in the Order would trust her to keep such information to herself, you understand."
Draco shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his dress robes. "Yeah. All right."
Snape still looked angry. "Do not involve yourself in any further plots of this nature, Draco. Not without consulting me and heeding my advice. You could well endanger your mother if you aren't more careful."
Draco gave a brief nod.
"Now if we're through here, I suggest we search out a restaurant in Surrey before your appointments with the good doctor," continued Snape in a calmer voice. "I think we all need a break from the castle at the moment."
Considering that the castle was now home to Lucius Malfoy's marbleised corpse, yeah, Harry thought he could stand to get away. He was glad summer was coming, though he knew that Snape planned to stay at Hogwarts for a couple of weeks after term ended.
"Why don't we invite the good doctor to dine with us?" asked Draco, waggling his eyebrows. "Since you took such pains to notice her ringless state last week. Really, Severus, you aren't a spy any longer. You can start forming some attachments--"
Snape laid one hand on Harry's shoulder and another one on Draco's. "I have been, you idiot child."
"Idiot children," Harry reminded him.
"Yes." Snape's expression was about as soft as Harry had ever seen. "Quite."
------------------------------------------------------
"I don't know why I even bother going year after year," muttered Draco on Friday night. "Leaving feast, shmeaving feast."
"Oh, don't be a sore loser just because Slytherin's behind on points. After that last match you've already got the Quidditch Cup. So Ravenclaw wins the House Cup this year. You'll survive." Harry ran the comb through his hair one more time, then gave it up as a lost cause.
"Ravenclaw, right. Oh sure, they're ahead right now, but the headmaster'll hand it to Gryffindor on a silver platter, just like always!"
"Draco, it doesn't matter!"
"Says the Gryffindor."
Harry sighed. "I'm in Slytherin too, you prat."
Draco perked up slightly. "Going to sit with us?"
"No. I miss the Tower and I'm sitting with my mates," said Harry firmly. "Now let's go. We'll miss dinner completely at this rate."
"Dinner, schminner," grumbled Draco, but he did follow Harry out of the bedroom and into the corridors.
When they got to the Great Hall, the room was glowing from the thousands of candles hanging overhead. Harry said a quick goodbye to his brother and headed for the Gryffindor table, where Ron was rubbing his stomach and complaining how hungry he was. "Why can't we just have dinner at the usual time on the last day of term?"
"Honestly, Ronald." Hermione's frown disappeared as Harry sat down on the bench next to her. "We'll miss you tomorrow on the Express."
Harry was a little bit sorry he'd miss the train trip with his friends, but he wasn't sorry about any of the rest of it. "Yeah, I'll miss you too. But I'm happy, you know."
"I know," said Hermione, her eyes sparkling. "Really, Harry. I do know that now."