Snape leaned forward. "Did it seem as though you were able to wander at will through a scene reminiscent of ah... a Muggle photograph?"
"Muggle photograph?" Draco questioned.
"They don't move," Harry informed him.
Draco made a face. "How perfectly bizarre."
"It's not," Harry laughed, thinking it was good that Draco seemed to be unwinding a bit. Maybe if Harry could keep him that way, he'd be less guarded when they got around to having the big talk. "Anyway, Professor, I was the only one who could move, so yes, it was like walking through a Muggle photograph."
Leaning back again, Snape crossed his arms and regarded Harry through hooded eyes. "I'm familiar with the phenomenon. What do you think precipitated it?"
Uh-oh, dangerous ground. "Uh, I don't know," Harry hedged. "It just sort of... ah, happened."
"I seriously doubt that."
Harry gave Snape a look that said to leave it alone. Much good that it did him.
"I've walked through Truthful Dreams too," Snape informed him, one eyebrow raised. "In all such cases I had seen something unexpected, something profoundly shocking."
Laughing low in his throat, Harry brushed off the pointed hint. "Hmm. Well, Samhain was nothing but one big shock from start to finish, wasn't it... so... that must be it, then. Thanks, sir."
Snape narrowed his eyes as though he had a good bit more to say on the topic. Thinking quickly, Harry turned to Draco. "I didn't bring my Firebolt along, but yesterday when I saw you on your Nimbus 2001, I started wondering if a broom might work for me. You know, like how I can use the Floo now? Would let me try out your broom?"
Draco shook his head, which Harry thought was pretty petty, until the other boy admitted, "I'd be concerned your magic might fail in mid-flight, Harry." He pushed away his bowl. "You could plummet to your death."
Since all Harry really wanted was to get Draco out of range of Snape's phenomenal hearing, he conceded. "Fine. We'll save the flying for later, but you owe me for the disappointment. You're coming with me out into the meadow to look for plants we can identify."
Draco actually snorted. "Still trying to cheat on your latest well-wish?"
"Well, I am half-Slytherin," Harry reminded him, sort of liking the phrase. It gave him an easy excuse for any number of things, didn't it? Not that he needed an excuse this time. "Besides, it's not cheating. We're just going on a little nature stroll. Can I help it if the wilds of Devon happen to share some similarities with a certain bouquet I recently received?"
"You're incorrigible," was Snape's wry opinion on the matter. "And somewhat lacking in critical thinking capacity. It's December, in case you hadn't noticed, and the meadow outside isn't a charmed Hogwarts greenhouse. You're not likely to find anything of use."
At that, Draco openly smirked.
"Well, come on a walk with me anyway," Harry crossly erupted. Just how hard was it going to be to get Draco alone? This was getting ridiculous. It didn't help that by the end there, Snape was regarding him with what could only be called a knowing look, as if all Harry's subterfuges were pretty transparent. "I need some fresh air."
"Only if you wear something a bit more substantial than that horrid jumper you had on last night."
"That jumper was a present, and a right good one," Harry defended Molly Weasley. "But it wasn't as warm as I would have liked, so all right." He headed to the bedroom to fetch his warmest cloak, adding gloves and a scarf as well.
After all, he'd probably be talking to Draco for a good, long while.
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After they'd walked to the far edge of the substantial property, they began to follow the boundary line marked by an uneven stone wall no taller than their waists. Now that he had no more reason to put off this discussion, Harry realized he felt completely awkward. How did you open a conversation like the one they had to have?
Maybe, Harry thought, the best way to begin would be to simply tell the truth.
"I didn't feel like talking to Snape about my Samhain dream," Harry admitted, leaning against the wall. "But I do want to discuss it with you."
Draco's shoulders tensed. "I can't imagine why."
"I think you can," Harry softly hinted.
Draco planted his feet, his whole body taking on a defensive stance. "I thought you didn't like it when I speculated on trauma recovery and your psychological needs and all that."
"I don't. That wasn't what I meant."
Draco pulled his cloak more tightly about him and shoved his hands more firmly into the pockets. "Anyway, you're fine now, right? Thanks to Severus, you don't even have any scars. So there's no need to talk about the matter."
"I think there is," Harry insisted. He waited for Draco to look at him, but the other boy seemed resolved to study the horizon instead. Well, fine. Harry'd had enough of circling the issue. "I know, Draco," he said. "I know you were there on Samhain."
Draco's skin went ashen, his expression looking as though he'd just been punched in the gut. Even his lips seemed to whiten. He rallied quickly enough though, protesting, "That's just bloody ridiculous, it is. You're not going to believe what you saw in a nightmare, are you?"
"Truthful Dream," Harry corrected.
"But you said yourself you broke free of the potion," Draco smoothly countered. His color was coming back now, so Harry supposed the boy felt himself on firmer ground.
"Remember how the professor said that something horribly surprising could cause that to happen?" Harry raised an eyebrow in unmistakable challenge. "What do you suppose I saw that shocked me so very much?"
"How should I know?" Draco coldly snapped back, his voice beginning to waver. "Unlike you, I'm not given to spouting off bizarre predictions."
Since Harry hadn't ever shared his seer dreams with Draco, that charge was spurious at best. Recognizing the red herring, Harry ignored the insult completely. "I saw you there, Draco," he calmly maintained. "You reacted when I echoed your comments about my scar. You panicked when Nagini licked your boots. You--"
"I'm not listening to this, Potter! I'm going back in!"
Grabbing Draco's arm when the boy would have begun to stalk back toward the distant cottage, Harry insisted, "That's why you tried to grab the potion away from me last night. You didn't want me to know you were there with your father on Samhain!"
"Let go of me, Potter," Draco drawled in a low, dangerous voice, the muscles in his forearm tensing until they felt like braided steel.
Harry held on more tightly, determined to have this out, once and for all.
"Look, I wasn't there!" Draco suddenly yelled, yanking his arm away so forcefully that he fell over backwards into the stiff winter grass. "I wasn't! I don't care what you think you dreamed, I just wasn't! How can you think that of me?"
Harry stared down at him, seeing fear in those silver eyes. Or really, terror. Draco wasn't just scared of being found out a liar, or frightened that Harry might reject him.
It was as Snape had said: the boy was literally afraid for his life.
When Harry thought about that, it made sense. If he were to denounce Draco and regard him with distrust and suspicion, the Order would follow suit... and with Lucius out for his blood, Draco needed all the help he could get.