Though come to think of it, even Dudley was all right knowing about his magic, these days. Being magical wasn't something he had to hide from the people he loved, not now. Not ever again.
A sense of gratitude seemed to sweep through him, making him feel like he was wrapped up in a large, soft comforter. Harry sighed a little, happily. He really did have all the things he'd ever wanted, right down to swimming lessons, and someone who would sit on the bleachers and watch him while he floundered about in the water. Someone who would tell him afterwards, that he'd done well. Harry felt even warmer just thinking about it, and realised a bit wryly that the swimming lessons meant a lot more to him than they probably should.
He had a sudden urge to thank Snape again. Not just for arranging lessons, though that was a big part of it. But, no . . . it was more than that. It was everything. For adopting Harry to begin with. For wanting him around. For being there for him, every day since, even when Harry messed up, like with not asking for help a lot sooner after he'd listened to what that awful portrait had to say . . .
"Dad?"
"Hmmm?"
Harry smiled a bit, then just shook his head. He knew well enough that what his father wanted from him wasn't thanks. And maybe Snape was right to think that, Harry suddenly realised. Maybe, in a family, you weren't supposed to be so grateful when people did things for you. He'd talked about that with Marsha, more than once. Being in a family meant that you were supposed to have people you could depend on. People who loved you. People to love, who wouldn't thank you, either, not just for being what you were--a son.
A good son, Harry decided, though he didn't mean that the way Draco liked to think. Harry just knew that he had a lot of reasons to appreciate Snape. An awful lot.
"Is there anything you need, Dad? Anything I can do for you?"
Snape looked a bit surprised by the question, and then, for an instant, almost calculating. "Perhaps there is," he murmured, so quietly that Harry barely caught it. Then, louder, "Yes, I do believe there is."
Harry waited, but the man didn't say anything further.
"Mind telling me what?"
Snape glanced at him as they walked along. "We'll have a late supper together after you've completed the final trip wires. We'll discuss it then. All right?"
Harry nodded, still a little bemused that his father wanted him to cast spells away from the privacy of their cottage. "So why are you being stricter with Draco than with me? I thought you'd want to be everything to be even. You know, fair."
"Fair isn't giving each of you the same things, Harry," drawled Snape. "It's making sure that each of you has what you most need."
That put Harry in mind of the ethics books. Only Draco had had to read them . . . though Harry would get to hear plenty on that topic, if it was going to be a required course for seventh-year students.
"What Draco needs right now," Snape was continuing, "is practice controlling his impulses. Not to mention, an appreciation that the rules do apply to him."
Harry nodded, though he couldn't help but point something out, even as he grimaced slightly. "But don't you think that last part is valid for me, as well? You have been pretty disapproving of people letting me break rules."
Snape didn't smile. "I have. But this is a bit different from letting Draco Apparate alone. You shouldn't imply that I'm allowing you to run wild with unauthorised magic, when in fact you're under close supervision tonight. Besides, Harry . . . you aren't like Draco."
Harry wiggled his fingers a little, raising his eyebrows.
Snape chuckled slightly. "I didn't mean that, not this time. I meant that your character is different. You do disregard the rules at times, yes. Much more than I would like, but you don't do it in order to indulge yourself. You tend to break rules only in aid of others."
"I don't know about that--"
"Do you remember when you used to ask about your invisibility cloak? You wanted it so Draco could use it on the pitch. You didn't ask for yourself."
Harry liked the praise, but didn't feel he could take it under false pretences like this. His father was forgetting something. Something important. "I wanted it later, for myself."
Or maybe Snape wasn't forgetting anything at all. "Yes, in your bid to keep yourself from going dark. You didn't truly want it for yourself at all, Harry. Once again, you were trying to save the rest of us, however misguided the effort. It's as I said. You break rules to help others, or at the very least, to attempt such help."
Attempt such help. A pang of missing Sirius flashed through Harry, but he forced it away from him. There was nothing else to do, though if he could get that mirror back at Hogwarts working, perhaps he could find a way to talk to Sirius and ease this pain. Harry would bet that Marsha would say that was healthier than him deliberately distancing himself from it. Or maybe not. Being a squib, she might find the idea of talking with a dead person a little off-putting.
For now, though, distraction was the order of the day. And what Snape had implied was pretty damned distracting, come to think of it.
"So you approve of that now, do you? My saving-people thing? I thought you thought that was indulging myself."
Snape stopped walking to give him a long, serious glance. "I don't know that approve is apt. But I have come to recognise that it's a part of you. An important part of you."
Acceptance, again. Harry looked up into his father's eyes, not sure what to say. It came to him that quite possibly, that was the nicest thing anybody had ever said to him. Somehow, he didn't think Snape would want to hear as much. It would almost be like calling the man sweet. It didn't quite fit, even if, in his own way, Snape really could be . . . sort of soft, sometimes.
"That's not to say that there's never any need to temper the trait," Snape was adding now, the look in his eyes going stern. "We all have qualities which serve us well in some situations and not others."
"Yeah, I remember." Harry started walking again. "What was it you said, back when we first went to Surrey together? Something about honour and valour having a place, but how it would take more than that to win this war?"
"You were listening."
Harry couldn't keep a thin layer of scorn from his voice. "I always listen to you, Severus."
"Now, perhaps. But back then?" Snape shrugged a little, the gesture looking strangely pleased. "You recall what I said next?"
"About a certain hat? Sure."
Snape looked even more pleased, though he only showed it by means of lightening his gait. Harry knew how to read him, though. He knew the exact moment when the man's pleasure faltered slightly.
"And what would your opinion of that be, after spending some months in my house?"
It wasn't like Snape to fish for compliments, so Harry knew at once that something else was going on. Snape wanted an honest answer. He really wanted to know what Harry thought. "Oh. Well, I really like being in both houses, but that's not what you meant, I think. Um . . . I'm not sure how much stealth and cunning I'm really learning, to be honest. Sometimes it seems like I can figure out a sneaky way of going about things, though. But that was always true. Well, to some extent."
"To some extent," mocked Snape. "One might conclude you had never, for example, spent extensive time in a girl's lavatory working on a secret project."
So he had known all about that. Probably, right down to the cat hair. Well, Snape had said that he and the headmaster had few secrets, and Dumbledore was pretty certain to be aware of most everything going on in the castle. Though Harry would bet his vault that Snape hadn't learned about the Polyjuice fiasco for quite some time after it had happened.
Bet his vault. Draco was rubbing off on him more than he'd realised.