"No, the least subtle would be 'How much is my allowance?'" Harry joked. He was a little bit put out when Snape didn't comment further. Harry really had been wondering what he'd do when he needed money.
"So, the hex is that the griffin moves?" Harry asked, turning back towards Draco.
"That part's a charm. The hex is.... if you're holding it when someone who truly hates you approaches... it'll try its best to bite them."
"That's a bit nasty."
Draco gave him a bland look. "Useful, I'd say. It's not a bad thing to know who your enemies are."
Harry understood, then. "And you were going to make sure I knew, in hospital, that the griffin wouldn't bite you?" He shook his head. "That wouldn't have proven much. I'd just have thought you were lying about the meaning of the spells."
Draco shrugged. "It was all I could think of to do." As if still needing to prove himself, he reached out a finger and stroked the griffin's back, right between the wings. The little figure purred.
"It means a lot that way back then, you were already trying to make sure I knew you wanted to be a friend," Harry murmured. "Thank you. Hmm, Slytherin colors... it's almost like you had foreknowledge."
"You mean that you'd end up as Severus' son?" Draco openly scoffed. "After five years of Potions class with you, how could I possibly doubt that? You've always had such a deep and abiding love for one another!"
Harry and Snape exchanged a significant glance then... but neither of them spoke until Snape briskly announced, "I'll charm Sals into a bracelet again, now." He did it with a single touch of his wand. "Draco, can you Apparate back to the safe-house on your own or shall I return for you?"
After hearing about Draco having splinched his own hand off, Harry shuddered at the question. The Slytherin boy, however, lightly said, "Apparate away. I'm right behind you. And so looking forward to Flooing back to the dungeons where I'll no doubt remain confined until the next school holiday."
"You might try thanking him for the lovely time he's given us," Harry pointed out. "He didn't have to let us out at all, you know, or open his home to us--"
"Harry, this is your home too," Snape sighed.
"Oh, right..."
"Well, I for one have had quite enough father-son moments this holiday," Draco announced, sounding suddenly put out. "So I'll just travel ahead of you both, shall I?"
With no more warning than that, he was vanishing on the spot.
"I'll talk to him about his attitude. Again," Snape told Harry.
"No, please don't," Harry begged. "Draco's usually all right, and times like this... I think you ought to let him... um, vent."
Snape looked doubtful, but waved a hand to indicate that for the moment, he'd hold off any rebukes. Pulling Harry into his arms, he held the boy to his chest and absorbed the shock of Apparation as he whisked them both back to Number Twelve Grimmauld Place.
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The next morning after Snape had Flooed up to his classroom office, Harry was surprised to see Draco already back to writing letters.
"The other students won't arrive for three more days," Harry pointed out, pulling up a chair to the dining room table. "Can't your endless letters to Slytherin wait?"
Draco barely glanced up as he replied, "It's a thank you note."
"Who do you need to thank?"
That had the Slytherin boy looking at him. "The headmaster, Harry," he said in a patronizing tone. And then, when Harry still looked blank, Draco went on, "The socks?"
Harry was really quite startled, but since Draco did have perfect manners --not that he always put them to use-- he thought to ask, "Oh... think I should write one, too?"
Draco's golden eyebrows drew together. "You mean even with your thanking-people thing, you've been neglecting the requisite cards?"
"Just take it for read I was raised by people with no manners, all right, and explain."
That familiar, superior look descended on the Slytherin boy's features. "Well, it's really very simple, Harry. If someone's given you a gift, you either thank them in person at the time, or write them a card at your earliest possible convenience."
Draco sounded like he was quoting someone, most likely his mother, Harry assumed, but he also sounded serious, so Harry nodded. "Okay, got it. Um, do you have some cards I can borrow?"
Draco pushed a sizeable stack across the table. "That's the drawback to being so popular, Potter," he snarked. "The thank you cards."
"Yeah," Harry realized, counting on his fingers without realizing it. "I'd better do Dumbledore, and Neville, and Ginny, and..." His voice changed to a more contemplative tone. "Oh, Hermione..."
"Now that's a card I'd give my eye-teeth to see," Draco hinted, an absolutely enigmatic smile brightening his expression.
Harry was hardly moved. "Forget it, it's between Hermione and myself."
"Oh, fine." Draco gave a reasonable imitation of a long-suffering sigh. "Well, my cards are done for the year. All one of them. I used to get loads of presents, I hope you know. The Malfoys are connected to just about everybody and they all wanted to curry favor with my father."
"But now you've got Professor Snape's respect," Harry pointed out. "Not to mention a chance at missing out on Azkaban, where you were definitely going to end up, the way you were headed--"
"I didn't say it wasn't worth it, Harry," Draco interrupted as he stood up. "It's just... more adjusting than you probably realize."
Harry could have pointed out that he'd had to adjust to magic being real, and then to losing his. In the end, though, all he said was, "I'll get cracking on these cards, then."
Draco left him to it.
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Some of the cards practically wrote themselves.
Dear Neville, Thanks for the chocolate-covered raspberries. It was good of you to remember those were my favorites. Every time I eat one I remember how you came down here and said I was still your friend and housemate and even Seeker when I'm all better. That means the whole world to me, Neville. You're a great friend and I want to see a whole lot more of you, all right? Don't let Snape scare you away. He takes some sort of perverse joy in putting the fear of Merlin into Gryffindors, but I don't think he can help it. I know for sure that he wants me to be happy even if that means having Gryffindors swarming down here, okay...
Dear Colin & Dennis, Wow, an entire photo album stuffed with nothing but pictures of me. I'll be sure to give a present like that all the attention it deserves...
Dear Dudley, I was really impressed when I saw your present sitting right there on Christmas morning. You did a great job navigating all that complicated Mrs. Figg/owl post stuff it takes to get things to me. I hope you liked the Wizard Chocolate I sent you. You can believe the label, it's got no sugar and no fat, and the store swore it'd taste just as nice to Muggles as it does to wizards. Anyway, I just wanted to be sure you weren't alarmed at the idea. It's not like the wizard candies you ate a couple of years ago, promise. It won't do a thing to you except make you smile from ear to ear. Your own present to me was really thoughtful. I know it probably seems amazing but I've never had a diary before. I bet it's right, what Marsha wrote on the note you tucked inside... keeping a journal might be a pretty healthy way for me to sort through some of my feelings. And boy, do I have some things to sort through. You know how I told you that Professor Snape wasn't so much the "dad" type? I'm starting to think he really is, and I'm starting to realize more and more how much I want just that. Anyway, it's a lot to come to terms with. Tell Marsha "hi" from me, okay, and that the journal was a super idea...