He wouldn't, Harry reluctantly realized. After all, if it wasn't for Draco stopping him, he'd have told Hermione about his magic when she started pressing for details about his aches and pains. And that, despite knowing that his father would be furious...
"I might end up mentioning what I saw Lucius doing," Harry finally admitted. "And that would just about kill Draco, wouldn't it? I mean, he'd want it to be true! He might want it to be true even if it meant he'd get into a fight in the Owlery." Harry suddenly felt sick. "Oh, God. Draco's really proud of his dueling skills. If he hears about the Owlery he might start thinking of it as a challenge or something. I mean, he does have that problem with his impulse-control... But no, I don't think he'd really go looking for a fight... But what if he thought the Owlery thing had to happen so that the other part could, so that his father would turn good? What if he thinks they're both the future? Telling him about the dream might make him want to go up to the Owlery!"
"I seriously doubt Draco is quite that irrational," Snape put in. "But Harry, to tell him anything at all would be simply cruel. Not very Gryffindor of you, in fact."
It was just like Severus to use his Gryffindor tendencies against him at will. "Manipulative bastard, aren't you?" Harry remarked, though pleasantly. He wasn't trying to score a point; he just wanted to show his father that he understood the motive behind that last remark.
"Actually," Snape deigned to inform him, "I thought you classed me a rat bastard. No, of late it's been vicious bastard, I do believe."
Shocked to the core, Harry exclaimed, "You said you wouldn't sneak up on me with any more Legilimency!"
"I don't recall promising that."
"But wait, I've been Occluding like mad... Oh, no. Am I letting my defenses down without realizing from time to time?"
"They're down right now," Snape pointed out. "You dropped them as you cleared your mind so I might pensieve out the dream. To no ill effect, I am gratified to see. But no, Harry, you haven't failed at Occlumency to my knowledge, and no, I haven't surreptitiously read your thoughts. I don't have to, not when you mutter vicious bastard under your breath almost every time we visit Devon."
"Well, you are," Harry defended himself. "Vicious, I mean. My whole forearm still hurts from the way that Troneo curse slammed me all the way across the field and into that stone wall."
Snape expression was tightly shuttered, as though he regretted his viciousness but wasn't disposed to change it, or apologize. "Shall I heal it?"
A little ashamed to be complaining when Snape was doing his best to make sure Harry would survive whatever life threw at him, the boy shook his head. "Nah. It'll be okay."
Snape gave a brisk nod. "Now, the dream. Since it was merely some species of nightmare, you will say not one word to Draco. Is that clear?"
Harry raised troubled eyes. "I don't think it's a seer dream, all right? It's stupid, the whole thing, and I just don't. But what if we've missed something? What if we're wrong? We have to do something to protect Draco, we just have to."
"Very well," Snape sighed, clearly irritated. "This will be a colossal waste of my time, but I will go to the Owlery personally and ward it to be sure that only birds can pass in and out. If someone attempts to throw Draco off, they'll do no more than knock him against an invisible wall. Will that set your fears to rest?"
Harry thought about it and decided it would. "Why isn't there a spell like that already?" he asked, more from curiosity than any other motive.
Snape gave him a look Harry hadn't seen in a while, the one that said Harry wasn't being any too bright. "There is. Believe me, it is not terribly likely a student could fall from the Owlery, let alone be thrown. I will, however, augment the protections as I have said." His voice went silky, then. "And in return, you will do something for me."
"Right, keep quiet about the false seer dream."
"Something else as well. You will resume taking Truthful Dreams each night."
Harry stiffened. "You don't experiment on students, remember? I can't take that stuff when I've been having seer dreams!"
"What you've been having are paranoid delusions," Snape retorted. "And because something in your twisted psyche is making them masquerade as seer dreams, they are distressing you beyond all reason. And me as well, arguing about such tripe as you're going to unadopt me and Draco's going to die," he sneered. "You said once you wished to become dreamed out. A sensible notion, I have decided. You will take Truthful Dreams and deal with all the nightmare experiences that are causing these nocturnal disruptions, and that is an end to the matter."
"Oh, no it's not--"
"You will do as I say," Snape stressed, glaring down at him. He looked away then, his gaze strangely evasive as he added, "The potion takes a week to make. Once I have it prepared, you will take it each night without fail until I say otherwise. Is that understood?"
Strange, whenever Harry had asked for some Truthful Dreams before, Snape had had some on hand. He'd even had some with him in Devon. But now...
"What happened to Don't you think I keep essential potions on hand at all times, Potter?" Harry inquired, intrigued when something like a dull red flush began to stain the hollows of Snape's neck. The man clenched his jaw, clamping down some sort of iron control, and the color stopped spreading. More curious than before, Harry pressed, "Dad? Is something wrong?"
"Apart from your defiance?" Snape icily inquired. "Nothing whatsoever."
That, Harry clearly sensed, was misdirection. Or more like a big fat lie. And wasn't it strange that he could tell? Unlike Draco, Snape was an exceptional liar. He'd had to be. But now he wasn't meeting Harry's eyes. And the reference to defiance... that was very odd. Snape didn't talk to him that way, not any longer. They talked things out.
Whatever was going on, it had to do with this potion, Harry sensed. "Why don't you have any Truthful Dreams already made up?" he softly asked.
"It is not a subject for discussion. Leave it."
Harry shook his head.
"Would you defy James like this?" Snape tossed out, the question delivered as though the Potions Master thought it would put an end to the conversation, once and for all.
"I don't know; I never got to know him enough to find out," Harry flatly returned. "But it hardly matters. You're my father now. And there's more to being one than just caring about me. You need to let me care back. But you won't even tell me why you're low on a stupid potion! How's that supposed to make me feel? It sure doesn't make me feel like your son, Dad."
"I cannot believe my brewing habits can precipitate such potent angst," Snape sneered, standing so abruptly that he knocked his chair to the stone floor. "So I've no Truthful Dreams on hand! Would you take it if I did?"
"Why don't you have any?"
"Obviously, because I stopped making it, you half-witted moronic excuse for a student!"
"Why?" Harry said, and that time his voice emerged as a full-fledged shout. "Why, damn it?"
"Don't you rail at me," Snape scathed, pointing a shaking finger at the door. "Get out of my sight! Now, Potter, this instant, out!"
The words brought Harry up short, brought his own sarcasm to the surface. "Is your next line going to be that I don't deserve to be your son? And what are you going to say to drive me away if that one doesn't work either?"
At that, Snape seemed to realize how far things had gone. Or perhaps, how far they had come. "I don't wish to argue," he quietly announced, passing a weary hand over his eyes. "I merely wish to be alone, Harry. Please, just go to bed."