Draco turned to their father, deciding that the direct approach was probably the right one. Severus would see right through any manipulation he tried. "I need to go to Exeter tonight, to watch Rhiannon's rehearsal. Shall I Apparate, then?"
Severus' answer, as Draco had half-expected, wasn't exactly encouraging. "Not alone. Not until you're licensed."
Draco gnashed his teeth, not just at the refusal but also at the reminder that he wasn't licensed yet. He couldn't wait for his birthday so he could take the test and be done with it. That law was so stupid! Lots of wizards were obviously capable of Apparating before they turned seventeen. Ha. Probably the law had been drafted with Muggleborns in mind. Though why proper wizards should have to wait just because Muggleborns started learning magic late . . . well, that was the Ministry for you, he supposed. Staffed with imbeciles from top to bottom.
Complete imbeciles.
Well, that couldn't be helped. Not at the moment, at any rate. Pushing his irritation aside, Draco got his mind back onto what mattered now: Rhiannon's invitation to the theatre. How could he let that pass him by?
"We're going to have to work something out," he said, trying hard not to phrase it as a demand. Severus didn't respond so well to those, and this was too important for Draco to make a mistake in his strategy. Like saying dad. That wouldn't go over so well at the moment. "I'll want to take Rhiannon out, you know. Dinner, dancing, the symphony. And I can't always have my family hanging about. I'm sure you understand."
Severus leaned back in his chair. "It's not lost on me that you're to achieve your majority in less than a month, no. But I hope you know that as long as you live in my home, I will expect you to abide by the rules I lay down."
"Exactly why I said we have to come to an agreement." Draco tried not to sound too pleading. Severus respected strength. Assertiveness. Though of course he wouldn't want his sons to be arrogant prats. "I take it that your major concern is my safety, yes?"
Severus nodded, his dark eyes a bit intrigued.
Draco felt like he was chairing an important meeting. Goodness knew, he'd eavesdropped enough to overhear Lucius managing discussions with other wizards. Not to mention Severus and the House meetings he liked to call from time to time.
"So. Why don't we start by agreeing that if I should run into any danger--which is fairly ridiculous in Exeter, I'll add--I'm competent to Apparate myself to safety. Yes?"
"Barring anti-Apparition wards."
Draco laced his fingers together. Good point, but he'd already thought of that. "Oh, but you know how long it takes to assemble those. They have to be laid in several layers, and generally in advance."
"True."
Draco was enjoying himself more and more as this went on.
"So perhaps just a tracking charm should be enough to fully ensure my safety. Harry could cast a wanded one on me, if you like. That should be fool-proof. In the unlikely event that something happens to me, you'd be able to find me straight away."
"I thought we shouldn't have residual magic around a Muggle," said Harry.
"Oh, please. Aren't you paying attention at that fine school you go to? The kind of residual magic we're talking about only attaches to inanimate objects, Harry." Draco had to resist an urge to stick out his tongue. "And for the record, she's not a Muggle!"
His brother was like a dragon with fresh prey. Just wouldn't let it go. "Sure seemed like one to me."
"Do you or do you not understand the concept of passing, Potter?"
"That's enough," said Severus levelly. He even gave Harry a hard look for once. About time. Then he returned his attention to Draco. "Your notion about tracking charms is well-reasoned, but a wanded one is out of the question just now. Harry has yet to learn to cast one at all."
Draco started to feel like the meeting he was chairing had spun out of his control. "But--"
Severus held up a hand. "My own spell-casting should be sufficient. Since I can understand your need for time alone with the young lady, I propose that Harry and I Apparate with you to Exeter, after which we'll go our separate ways. You can join us at an arranged time and place to return home. Will that do, Draco?"
Draco sighed with relief. "Yes. Certainly."
Harry practically snorted. "You're going to let him date her while he's still under this delusion?"
Severus shrugged.
Harry looked frustrated by that, but he didn't say anything more. Maybe he knew there wasn't any point. Well, Draco would show him. Rhiannon had been sounding him out, earlier. With just a little encouragement, she'd probably be willing to open up and admit to being magical. As long as she knew first that he was, as well . . .
That might be tricky, considering that it would be bad form, to say the least, for Draco to simply blurt out that he was a wizard. Especially considering that during the opera rehearsal, there would be Muggles all around.
Rhiannon wasn't one of them, though. Draco was certain of it.
------------------------------------------------------
Draco straightened his coat and tie as he stood outside the back door to the theatre, and told himself that his discomfort was due to the way he was dressed. Certainly, he had worn Muggle clothes to the opera before, but he wasn't really going to the opera this evening. This was more of a date, in his view, and he'd feel a lot better in robes that he could swirl just so, to look dashing.
But that wouldn't do for tonight, so Draco transferred the flowers he'd bought to his left hand, and used his right to push open the door. Or try to, anyway. It wouldn't budge.
Draco didn't like the feeling that he was locked out and had to knock, but there was nothing else to be done, not if he wanted to see Rhiannon again tonight, and hear her lovely lilting voice . . .
The door opened to reveal a gangly blond man who looked like he'd probably slept in his faded jeans and shirt. Draco schooled his features to hide his disdain, and simply said that Rhiannon Miller had invited him to watch the rehearsal.
"All right, but for fuck's sake, make sure you keep quiet," said the man, stabbing out the fag he'd been smoking. "Adrian's being a real cunt tonight."
Draco didn't quite follow that, but he did get the basic meaning. "Adrian?"
"Director. I'm Colin, by the way. Come on."
Draco followed the man through a couple of sloping corridors and found himself on the wings of the stage. Colin hastily indicated a folding metal chair. Draco looked around for Rhiannon, but didn't see her anywhere.
"Lighting looks good now," said Colin to a dark-haired man standing a short distance away. Adrian, Draco presumed. That impression was confirmed when the man's bad mood became obvious.
"Snuck a smoke, didn't you? How many times do I have to tell you that I'm allergic? And who the hell is that?"
Draco abruptly found himself stared at by the assorted people on the stage proper. He was glad he'd yet to sit down. Not that he wanted to spend any time in a folding metal chair, for Merlin's sake. Not without at least a handkerchief to spread out on the seat.
"Draco Snape," he said, striding forward to offer his hand.
"Adrian Hendrickson." The director shook hands like he had twelve other more important things to do.
"Rhiannon invited me," Draco added, and then because the man was starting to look so annoyed by that, went on, "I saw a recent performance of your selections from the Magic Flute and The Marriage of Figaro."
"Damned idiot Colin forgot to put that last one on the flyers," said Adrian curtly, glancing to the side.
The gangly blond man needed no other prompting to make himself scarce.
Adrian seemed to already have forgotten he was there, Draco thought, as the man strode back out to the centre of the stage and practically bellowed, "What's taking so long?"