"Or you could try it wandless," Draco put in from across the room.
"Wandless!" Ron exclaimed.
"I have tried that," Harry said. He was about to add that it was hopeless, but remembered in time that it wasn't hopeless. He was going to get his magic going again, he was, and that was that!
"Ready?" Snape questioned. When Harry nodded he touched his wand tip to each finger and palm.
"Oh, that's very good," Harry said on a sigh of relief. "Thank you..." he had been about to add sir... force of habit... but catching himself in time, he said instead, "Thanks, Dad."
Ron made a half-strangled noise, but that was nothing to Draco's reaction. He burst out laughing, clapping at the same time, then abruptly cut it all out and gasped, "Right, between you and him, got it."
With that, he escaped to the bedroom. Through the closed door more laughter could be heard.
Harry figured that Snape was actually irritated with Draco, but with him safely out of the way, he turned a rather fearsome glare on Ron instead.
"What?" Ron gulped, clearly nervous. "I didn't say anything!"
"You look as though you'd like to," Snape drawled in one of his darker voices.
Harry thought it was unfair to practically invite Ron to insult their relationship, but before he could say so, Ron rose to the occasion. Looking away from them both, he airily returned, "Who, me? No, I don't have anything to say."
"Good," Snape snapped. He gave Harry a look then, a mix of dark amusement, consternation, and surprise, and then he was walking down the short hall toward his office. Harry thought of calling after him Thanks again, Dad, but decided he'd better not.
He turned to Ron, who picked that moment to grumble, "I don't need another flurry of Howlers, do I?"
Harry sighed and got back to his essay, this time scratching out the title and writing in the one his father had suggested.
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"What happened to you?" Harry asked a few nights later when Draco opened the door to reveal a panting and disheveled Ron.
"Ran all the way down," Ron wheezed.
"You're still late," Draco pointed out a bit snidely, raising his voice when Snape stepped out of the Potions Lab. "Though I suppose it's bit much to hope for points from Gryffindor, no matter that we waited dinner for you."
Snape appeared to ponder that a moment. "Perhaps we should do Mr. Weasley the courtesy of eliciting the reason for his tardiness."
Harry let out his breath; until then, he hadn't realized he'd been holding it.
Ron shot Draco a rather fearsome glare. "I had to take Ginny to the hospital wing after she was hurt at Quidditch practice!"
"Ah, well there you have it," Snape smoothly put in. "Family must come first. Wouldn't you agree, Draco?"
The Slytherin boy muttered something almost inaudibly.
"Yeah, family's important," Harry echoed, catching on.
Ron looked from the Potions Master to Harry, and back, and sighed slightly.
Harry was almost afraid that Snape would press the point too far, but he realized a moment later he shouldn't have been. Too cunning to overplay his advantage, Snape merely inquired, "And how is Miss Weasley? Hale and hearty again, I trust?"
"Yeah, what happened?" Harry asked.
"Just bad luck. Two bludgers came at her from opposite directions, and when she flew straight up to avoid them, she collided with one of our beaters. Ginny broke a leg in the fall, but Pomfrey's already got it knitted back together. She said it'll be good as new in the morning."
Harry gave a relieved grin. "That's good. She can play this Saturday, then, right?"
"Yeah, no problem with that. She can practice again tomorrow."
Snape nodded, his visage calm. "Excellent. It wouldn't do to have Gryffindor play Slytherin with even your reserve Seeker out of commission."
"Yes, it would," Draco muttered, more loudly that time.
"You're just sore that we've been creaming Slytherin all year!" Smirking, Ron returned his attention to Snape. "Ginny's fine now, Professor. Thank you for asking."
Draco wasn't about to let Ron get away with badmouthing the Slytherin Quidditch team. "If you've been winning," he coolly observed, "it's probably because Slytherin is minus our star Seeker." He executed a little bow as he said it.
"Gryffindor's been minus our star Seeker, too," Ron snarked back, waving toward Harry. "And somehow we still manage to win, don't we? It's called teamwork, Malfoy."
"Ginny's very good," Harry rushed to insert before the conversation could get even uglier. "I wish I could see her play, I really do. I miss Quidditch."
Ron glanced uncertainly at the Potions Master. "Um, maybe your.... er, maybe Professor Snape would let you come to the match? I mean, I'm sure he could charm some part of the stands for safety, or maybe you could just lurk about..."
"Unseen?" Draco questioned. "It truly is a lovely invisibility cloak."
"You told him about it?" Ron accused, eyebrows lifted in outrage.
"Oh, around here it's share and share alike," Draco breezed, waving an airy hand.
"You let him touch it?"
"Ron," Harry gently remonstrated, "he's just trying to get to you. And you're letting him."
"Hmph. Well, I still say you should come to the match."
Harry looked beseechingly at his father, and noticed Draco doing the same. "Is it possible? You go to all the matches anyway. We could sit right by you in case anything should happen..."
Shaking his head, Snape admitted, "I can't think it wise. However... perhaps I can do something that will mitigate the loss. Perhaps you can watch the match from here."
More used to wizard furnishings than Harry, it was Draco who figured out what he meant. "Oh, the enchanted picture frame? But you said that wouldn't display people."
"I do believe I can persuade it," Snape drawled, and strolled into the boys' bedroom.
Ron looked around curiously as he followed; it was the first time he'd seen Harry's room. He appeared oddly comforted by the fact that half of it was done up in Gryffindor colors.
The picture frame was showing a view of starlight out over the lake. Tapping it three times with his wand, Snape murmured a few low incantations. "There," he said to Draco. "It is just a viewing plane; therefore, it will never be able to let you hear what transpires outside, but it should be able to show you people on the grounds, now." His eyes grew fierce. "Do not misuse it. I will change it back after the Quidditch match, of course."
"Of course, Severus." Draco came across a bit smarmy, so much so that Ron rolled his eyes. "Now, where would I find people out and about at this late hour?" he mused. When Ron flinched slightly, a satisfied expression darkened Draco's eyes. "Oh, I see. Gryffindor team is still practicing, are they?"
"I miss Night Quidditch a lot," Harry groaned.
"You wish is my command," Draco lightly gibed. Closing his eyes, he gripped his wand and waved it. Instantly, the picture frame filled with a view of the Quidditch pitch. Several students on brooms were racing in tight circles, avoiding the lighted bludgers that whizzed in all directions.
"... five... six..." Draco counted under his breath.
Ron abruptly threw himself in front of the picture frame. "He's counting the bludgers, trying to ferret out our team secrets!" he exclaimed. "Make the picture frame go back to the lake, Harry!"
"I can't. No magic."
Ron turned in appeal to Snape. "He's cheating."
"Strategizing," Draco corrected. "Though you Gryffindors really are a sorry lot. Only eight practice bludgers?"
Tapping the ornate frame again, Snape commented, "It won't show the Quidditch pitch again, except during games. I trust that is satisfactory, Mr. Weasley?"