"I told you, there are some things I believed Draco should--"
"Yeah, yeah, tell me for himself," Harry interrupted. A little imp began to whisper in his ear, telling him what to say. Of course, Harry knew he shouldn't say it, but he needed to, after all those weeks of worry that Draco might just be waiting for a good chance to hex him and drag him to Voldemort! He wanted to wipe that smug expression off Snape's face.
"Draco did tell me," Harry sighed, careful not to make the noise too theatrical, the way Draco often did. "He told me everything. Explained how it only took one meeting for him to see the truth about serving Voldemort. No way could Draco here stand to be a Death Eater when it would mean having put up with a honking great snake every time he got summoned--"
"Draco!" Snape shouted, his skin flushing with anger.
Draco cast Harry a panicked glance. "That's not what I said!"
Harry barked with laughter, but cut it off pretty quickly when Snape started to look even more incensed. "Sorry," he apologized, though he wasn't, not really. "Couldn't resist."
"I'm surprised you regard this as a laughing matter," Snape rebuked him, eyebrows still drawn together.
"I don't!" Harry retorted, shifting on his feet. "I just don't like secrets, and I damned well don't appreciate it that when you decided the truth ought to come out, instead of just opening your mouth like anyone else would, you had to get all Slytherin and start planting clothing around the house!"
"You told me you approved of that," Draco remarked, his silver eyes puzzled.
"I approve of the fact that he finally did something about the problem," Harry raised his voice. "But no, I don't happen to think it was the best idea I've ever heard. I'd rather he'd told me all this months ago, and in some halfway normal way!"
"If I'd done that," Snape explained, "you would have missed out on struggling with your decision to trust Draco despite everything. And it's out of struggles like that that the strongest kinds of loyalties are born."
Harry sat down on the floor in front of the fire and noticed Sals warming herself on the hearthstones. With a whisper of Parseltongue, he called her to climb up on his knee. After patting the little snake a few times, he lifted his face to Snape, who was still sitting at the table. "Did you plant that mask and robe?"
His eyes half-closed, Snape shrugged. "Define plant. I left them here when I brought you back to Hogwarts. Even then, I had an inkling that you might need to come live in my quarters, and I certainly didn't want you to encounter such items there. When I formulated our Christmas plans, I was aware that the robe and mask could well come to light."
Harry snorted. "So Draco's right. You were counting on him to investigate that box in hopes it was a present." When Snape said nothing to either confirm or deny the allegation, Harry went on, "You knew your spying days were over when you rescued me from Samhain. Why didn't you destroy those awful clothes?"
"They could have been of use to the Order in future."
"Right..." Harry murmured. "Well, not any longer."
"No. You did a rather thorough job of immolating them."
Harry took a moment more to think, his fingers stroking Sals' little coils as he sat and pondered the whole matter. All in all, he wasn't too pleased with how Snape had handled Draco's presence at Samhain, but neither did he want to let it stand between them. "I wished you'd have told me the truth much sooner," he announced, his serious gaze seeking out his father's half-concealed one. "And... I hope you won't be keeping secrets from me in future... but anyway... I forgive you."
"Oh, very magnanimous." Snape breathed out, his nostrils flaring as he leaned down, resting his arms on his knees, and peered more closely at the boy sitting on the floor. "But that rather begs the question. Have you forgiven Draco?"
Harry favored his father with a cool look. "I have, yes. But if you don't mind, I'd rather not go over it in detail. It's between him and me."
"Just as Draco's attending a Death Eater meeting was between him and me?"
"That involved me and you know it!"
Snape's voice was smooth and polished as he countered, "I had to do as I thought best."
Harry's voice was smooth too, but not in the same way. Rough edges of pain and resentment lurked beneath the surface tones. Edges he was consciously trying to blunt. "We disagree about what was best, sir. But... like I said, I forgive you."
Snape stared at him for a moment more, then briskly nodded. Harry noticed, though, that he kept watching both boys quite carefully for a while, as though verifying that the two of them were indeed able to get along.
Draco came and stood by Harry, a position which was awkward for conversation since Harry was at his feet. The Slytherin boy didn't seem to know what to do until Harry wryly remarked, "You could actually sit on the floor, Draco. You did the other day, remember? It didn't kill you."
"Come sit with me by the window," Draco suggested, gesturing toward the worn couch on that wall.
"There's a draft there; it's too cold for Sals." Realizing that he was still petting his snake, Harry slipped her into his pocket where she slithered in a circle, getting comfortable. "There, all gone. Sorry about the Nagini crack."
Draco grimaced. "Well... the truth is, I wasn't too thrilled to see a... what did you call it, 'honking great snake' there at the meeting."
"I know," Harry admitted. "Sit down, why don't you?"
Draco made another face. "It'll dirty my clothes."
"Aren't you a wizard? Cleaning charms and all that? Come on."
With that, Draco finally acquiesced, sitting cross-legged on the stones.
Harry leaned in towards him, a little conspiratorially. "Good. Well done, even. Now, let's make a little plan for Christmas dinner, shall we? While I was asleep this morning, I don't suppose you managed to sneak a peek into all those crates Snape brought along... no? Okay, I'll distract him while you see what sorts of ingredients we have to work with. No, wait. You probably don't have a clue how to assemble a meal. Okay, you distract him while I sneak a peek--"
A slight noise of magic dissolving wood cut through his words.
"If you want to investigate the supplies I've laid in," Snape drawled, waving at the now lidless crates, "there's no need to sneak around to do so."
"But we're all Slytherins here," Harry gibed, feeling happier than he had in months, really. "Or sort of. We like sneaking, sir."
Draco burst out laughing. "That's not quite what Slytherin means." Jumping up, he took Snape up on that offer to sort through the crates. Harry wondered if the other boy was actually hoping to find some presents. No such luck, though. If Snape had brought along any, he'd secreted them elsewhere.
Two of the crates were spelled to stay cool, and a third one was actually frozen inside. Harry grinned, realizing that with wizardry any sort of container could become an icebox. "Hmm, looks like roast goose for Christmas dinner," he pronounced. "And we can thaw out some of these mince pies... Or did you have them in mind for Christmas eve?"
Snape shrugged as though he didn't care. "Why don't you and Draco decide the details? In fact, why don't the two of you work up something for our lunch?"
"Sandwiches," Harry decided.
Draco gave one of his theatrical sighs.
"It's about the easiest meal there is," Harry chided him, and proceeded to demonstrate. He had to laugh, though, when instead of doing something as "Mugglish" as slicing bread with a knife, Draco figured out how to make his wand do the cutting for him.
Just as well that the other boy took care of it, though, however he chose to do it. Harry's hands were really aching again. He wondered if the magic streaming through them had damaged the nerves. Leaving Draco to finish making the sandwiches, Harry took his problem to Snape, who examined his hands carefully with several spells.