"More like homicidal."
The prat. The absolute prat. He still thought that Draco was going to do something awful to Rhiannon? How dare he!
Caution went out the window. Before Draco could think twice, he'd yanked open the bedroom door and stomped out into the sitting room. "I am not homicidal, you complete fucking imbecile. I could never hurt Rhiannon, never, and if I hear you say again that I will, I'll hex your mouth shut for a week! Just see if I won't, just see." Draco yanked his wand out and held it with his arm stretched fully out. "Well? Nothing to say?"
"I have something to say," interrupted Severus, reaching out a hand to push Draco's wand down. "Don't threaten your brother again. And cease using such foul language."
Draco should have heeded that stern tone, but at that moment, he couldn't possibly. "Fuck my language!"
"So it's to be Bocalavare, is it?"
"Oh, you think I'm five years old, do you?"
"Trust me when I say that I know exactly how old you are."
That gave Draco pause. But then again, it was supposed to. He gave Severus a brusque nod, and in a show of good faith, pocketed his wand.
Glancing at his brother, Draco saw that Harry seemed to be giving his next words some careful thought. About time.
"I really think Rhiannon's a nice person, Draco. And I don't want to see her get hexed. I'm just concerned, you know--"
So much for good faith. Oh, not that Draco was about to cast anything. No, his wand stayed firmly lodged in his pocket, but his mind began leaping ahead to find something, anything, that would make Harry stop saying such brainless things.
He found it, too. Of course he did. And after all, there was no point in eavesdropping if you didn't use what you heard to advantage. That was practically Draco's credo. He suddenly rounded on Harry. "Yeah, I'm concerned, too," he said in a falsely considerate voice. So false, in fact, that Harry's eyes narrowed. "About you. How is your addiction to stabbing yourself coming along, eh? Let's talk about that. If the three of us should be concerned about anybody's mental health, it ought to be yours!"
Damned impulse control. Draco regretted his words the moment he heard them emerge, and that was even before Harry paled, or Severus said in a low, warning tone, "If you're trying to prove you can be ruthless, you've succeeded admirably."
Shite. Somehow, that had come out all wrong. He'd just wanted to warn Harry off. He'd just wanted them both to know, Harry particularly, that Draco certainly wasn't the one who needed his head looked into.
Pretty terrible way to get that across, though. Even he could see that. He almost said fuck under his breath, but the look on Severus' face stopped him.
Harry's expression, meanwhile, had hardened into something almost frightening. "I deserve to have that thrown in my face, don't I? After all, it was completely unreasonable of me to tell you that Rhiannon was a Muggle. It was just the truth, and I wanted you to know from the first what sort of wind you were flying into, but talk about uncalled for! Just like I'm out of line now, wanting you to get some help if you need it. I don't even know how you put up with me--"
"Stop," said Draco in a low voice.
But Harry didn't. He took a step nearer Draco, his fists clenching. "Never mind that the last time you were seriously annoyed you tried to poison people. Oh, no. I have no reason at all to suppose that Rhiannon might be in danger. Hell, I should probably be boiled in oil for even letting the thought cross my mind! At the very least I should take up stabbing myself again, since you were kind enough to remind me about that--"
"Stop it, Harry!" shouted Draco. "I'm sorry, all right!"
Harry snorted. "Oh, yeah. If you ask me, you're only sorry that Dad heard you say something that terrible. But I'd just like to point out one thing. I may have some serious problems, but at least in my way of dealing with them, I was only hurting myself! It's not like I ordered the elves to make some fairy cakes, and then tried to pin the blame on them when things went pear-shaped--"
When Severus' hand settled atop Harry's shoulder and squeezed, Harry's voice finally trickled to a halt. In fact, he looked to be gulping, and that was even before Severus began speaking, his voice sharp enough to cut.
"That's quite enough. We're not going to do this any longer, is that clear? To pull each other's problems out in times of strife, and use them like weapons . . . I grew up with a father who did that to me, and so did you, Draco. And Harry, your uncle wasn't much better. In fact, it seemed to me that he was in the habit of complaining about you to anyone who would listen. I can't imagine that any of us particularly enjoyed such treatment at the hands of family."
"No," said Draco, feeling shaken by then, and not just because of the way Harry had been speaking. Severus almost never mentioned his father. That he would do so now really showed that things were spiralling out of control.
Harry's lips were clamped together, but he shook his head.
Sighing, Severus looked from Draco to Harry, and back. "It's what you learned to do, growing up, and in some respects it's a Slytherin trait besides, to look for weaknesses to exploit, but we really ought to reserve it for enemies. Not loved ones."
Feeling chastened, Draco gave a little nod. He noticed that Severus didn't press Harry for some sign of agreement, but then again, it had been Draco who had started the viciousness. This time, at least.
A long moment passed, and then finally, Harry seemed to find his voice again. "Don't bring up the needles again, Draco. I have it under control."
Draco nodded again, but thought that a little reciprocity was in order. "Fine. But then you shouldn't bring up Rhiannon's safety again. I have that well under control."
"Really."
It was probably the open doubt in Harry's voice that pushed Draco back over the edge into anger. He was trying to imitate Severus' droll tones, and failing. From a sixteen-year-old, the sarcasm wasn't thought-provoking, it was offensive. "Yes, really. I love Rhiannon, for your information, and nothing can change that. Nothing ever will change that, you sanctimonious . . . prick! So stop saying that I'm going to murder her! I'm going to marry her, if you want to know!"
Harry's mouth dropped open. "You're . . . what? Oh my God, are you making up some new bizarre reason why she's not really a Muggle? Going to claim the bell got it wrong, are you?"
"She's a Muggle, all right. I love her anyway," announced Draco coldly. Funny, until the moment before, he'd still been thinking that he could manage to give her up. But that wasn't on; he saw that now. So what if she was a Muggle? She wasn't like the other ones. He should know. She was special.
"She's a Muggle and you love her anyway," said Harry, still in that same tone. He clearly didn't believe a word Draco was saying.
"Yes, she is, and yes, I do." Draco nodded, the motion emphatic, and then because Severus was being so quiet, he glanced the man's way.
Much good it did him. Severus was wearing a guarded look. Like he was shocked and hiding it. Or maybe, like he had plenty to say but he wasn't going to say it.
Yeah, that sounded about right. Learn by experience, probably. If he thought Draco was making a mistake, he wasn't going to say so.
Harry had no such compunction. In fact, no decorum at all. "You and a Muggle. That sounds like a stable basis for a relationship. Are you going to tell her that you hate her and everything she stands for? That you hate everyone she's ever loved?"