Harry thought, not for the first time, how strange it was that spells always sounded so much better in Latin. But then again, he had no idea how his Parseltongue sounded to others, did he? Other than frightening . . . but actually, most of the students and all of the professors except Aran had got used to him casting using snake language, so he didn't suppose it sounded all that terrifying to them.
"Hissss if you feel more people like usss," Harry tried.
The wire at his feet glowed strongly, becoming like a flash of light. A pale pink flash that swept upward into the sky, licking at the sides of the buildings. And that wasn't all. As soon as he and Snape began walking away, the magical energy spread to fill the alley from side to side. It wasn't even accurate to call these trip wires. They were more like trip fogs. Invisible trip fogs, after that first distinctive flash, but Harry could feel the magic following close on his heels, then when he turned, surging past him to cross the street they emerged onto.
"That's really something," he breathed, the zing of the spell as it rushed past him raising the hairs on the back of his neck. He hadn't felt anything like this when his father had been the one casting, so maybe something had gone wrong? But then again, it seemed like Snape didn't feel the spell when Harry was the one casting it. He was glancing sideways at Harry now, his dark eyes glinting with humour.
"It worked quite well, then, I take it?"
Harry nodded, wondering how far the spell might spread if there were no buildings to stop it. As spells went, it was quite clever, since it filled the wider street outside the alley just as well as the alley itself.
And that zing was still giving him the shivers. Harry rubbed his hands up and down his bare arms, wishing he had robes on.
"You'll get used to it."
Snape was right. Once Harry had figured out the spell, it was a simple matter to lay more trip wires around the streets surrounding the theatre. By the time he'd used up all their wire, thefeelof the spell was a minor irritant, nothing more. Finally, Harry held out the empty wooden spool in his palm. "Did you bring along a second one?"
Harry almost laughed at the incredulous look on his father's face. "We've done all the main thoroughfares, as well as those places your brother is most likely to frequent. Do you want to blanket every inch of the city?"
"No need to be sarcastic."
Snape hid another smile. "Facetious, I do believe."
"Only word in English with all five vowels in order," quipped Harry, startling Snape. "Well, according to Hermione."
"What a useless bit of knowledge," Harry heard his father mutter.
Now it was Harry who was hiding a smile. "So, that late supper?" he asked, to cover it. "How about pizza?"
Snape grimaced, but began walking towards the city centre as he stowed the empty spool in an inner pocket of the long coat he was wearing. "Is that really what you want?"
Harry nodded, but inside he was thinking that Snape's Muggle dress sense was quite odd. The coat was the sort of thing any businessman might wear over his suit on a blustery winter day; it was possibly the closest thing that a men's store might have to a robe, so it was little wonder Snape favoured it, even if it only reached to his knees. But it didn't look right, not in July.
Well, at least Snape didn't wear it when he came to the pool to watch Harry swim.
"So, pizza's really all right with you?"
"It's repulsive, but since you can hardly ask for whatever suits during the summer--"
Snape broke off and suddenly drew Harry back into the shadows of a side-street. A moment later, Draco strolled right past them, his step light and confident. He looked happier than he'd been in a long, long time. Actually, Harry didn't think he'd ever seen his brother looking quite so delighted. Enchanted, even. There wasn't a trace of stress or worry on his face.
Draco was holding Rhiannon by the arm, the touch looking casual but somehow gallant as well. As they crossed the street, walking away from the alley where Snape and Harry were hiding, the two of them were chatting animatedly about how silly it was that people confused Verdi with Monteverdi.
Snape remained dark and still until the pair was long gone, which struck Harry as a little odd. Still, he only asked when it seemed like the coast was clear. "What about the notice-me-not charm you cast earlier? Draco couldn't have seen us, could he?"
"He could have. That spell is designed to provide privacy from outsiders, not among those who share an abode."
"Oh. Well, no harm done. I don't think he did see us." Harry almost scoffed. "I don't think he'd have seen us even if we'd stood in front of him and shouted. He had eyes only for that girl."
Snape muttered a quiet oath. "Still, we should have started here and worked our way towards the pool. It was never my intention to spy on your brother and his date."
Harry wouldn't put it past Snape to spy on either of his sons, date or no, if he thought it necessary in any way. The fact that he didn't seemed to underline something for Harry. "You really do believe that Exeter is safe, then?"
"I wasn't certain, not at first. But after spending more time here . . ." Snape shrugged. "I don't anticipate that Draco will have any problems."
"Then why all the trip wires?"
Snape angled him a glance.
"Right. Better safe than sorry."
"When it comes to you or Draco, most assuredly."
Harry couldn't help but think, then, of the many times he'd concluded that the Dursleys would probably be relieved if he were run over by a speeding lorry. Not to mention the times that Uncle Vernon had threatened to throw him in front of one. Fairly sad, really, that Snape's comment could make Harry feel so loved. It was only an expression of normal concern, the kind of thing any parent should feel.
Harry's arms started itching. His aunt and uncle were long beyond his reach, but damned if he didn't wish he could reach down into the realm of the dead and yank them out of it, just so he could yell at them. Or worse. He should have had someone taking care of him who cared, all along!
"Harry?"
Best to be honest, right? He knew by then that Snape couldn't help him with problems he hid. Well, actually he could, as he was really good at figuring things out, but it was more difficult. "I'd give a lot for a needle right now," Harry said, his voice grating over the admission.
Snape's teeth clicked together. "Because I'm concerned for Draco?"
That was pretty insulting. Maybe Snape wasn't as good at figuring things out as Harry had thought. "No, of course not!"
Snape's hand on his shoulder stopped him from turning away. "Talk."
Harry looked up into his face. "I was just thinking about how you compare to the Dursleys, and what I'd probably do to them if I could get my hands on them."
"Ah. I see." Snape's voice sounded dark, though his comment wasn't. "I don't think you'd do anything at all, Harry."
"Ha. You didn't see Aunt Marge, blown up like a blimp, screaming as she drifted out over Magnolia Crescent."
"You misunderstand. You wouldn't do anything because I'd be in your way."
"Keeping me from the dangers of revenge."
"No, beating you to it."
Harry gaped.
"Just as well they're dead and gone, I think," added Snape, shrugging philosophically.
It took Harry a moment to catch his breath. "What happened to vengeance being so bad for you?"
"I'd make an especial exception for them."
"You didn't, though," said Harry slowly. "You heard how poisonous Uncle Vernon was towards me, and you never--"
"He was dead long before I truly understood what his poison had wrought."
Harry gulped. Part of him wanted to dispute that last bit. He wanted to say that he was fine. That it didn't bother him that his caretakers for so many years would rather he'd never been born. Once, he would have said it. Hell, he might even have believed it. But now that he knew what it was like to have a real parent, now that he knew what he'd missed out on, what he'd been cheated of . . .