It was really over Harry's head, but seemed to be about how certain classes of potions only affected specific wizarding bloodlines. It didn't interest Harry in the least, but he kept reading, mostly because he wanted to know what Draco had found so fascinating about the topic.
Harry thought that Draco and the casewitch were holed up in the bedroom for an awfully long time, but finally they came out, and she announced that she would speak to them all together. Harry wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not, but he quickly decided not when she glared down from her less-than-impressive height and announced, "I am not satisfied as to the explanations I've been given for Mr. Potter's injuries."
Shite, Harry thought, as on the other side of Snape, Draco went stiff and still.
"And the reason for your dissatisfaction, Miss Thistlethorne?" Snape inquired, his voice as mild as if he were merely asking for the date of his next shipment of shrivelfigs.
She glared even harder. "The complaint lodged against this placement was very specific, detailing a plethora of injuries that have yet to be explained to my satisfaction. If Professor Snape is indeed teaching you to fight, he is being far too rough. Wizard Family Services did not place you here so that you could be pummeled by your own guardian. Professor Snape has been negligent in his duty to ensure your physical well-being, Mr. Potter--"
"He hasn't!" Harry objected. "He's been great to me!"
"Your opinion aside, this matter must be referred to Wizard Family Services for review."
"Severus isn't too rough on me, I swear--"
"You aren't the best judge of that, I'm afraid. Professor Snape is an adult. He should have realized that things were going too far during this..." She paused delicately. "Training."
This is it, Harry thought. Unadoption. She doesn't believe it's training at all. She thinks something else is going on, like that Severus is being purposely cruel, or that he's confusing me with James after all. She's going to follow her stupid policies and procedures, and some committee will look at this all wrong, and they'll probably think I had no business being adopted by a former Death Eater in the first place, and the casewitch will come back and it'll be my dream all over again. Snape'll have to give me up...
And then, one more thought rang through his mind. Time to change it. Time to defy the future.
"Sorry, Draco," Harry abruptly announced, jumping up from the sofa and walking away from the other boy. "We never counted on something like this, did we? I have to tell her."
Draco opened his mouth as though to object, then snapped it closed, his teeth making a clicking sound. Good thing he isn't trying to play along any more than that, Harry realized. What with him being such a lousy liar...
"You're right," Harry said, turning on a heel to face the casewitch. "Those would be too many injuries if I'd been getting them from Severus, who really does know better than to pummel me, as you put it. That's not how I've been getting hurt, though." Harry gave a heavy sigh. "I'm a Gryffindor, you know? I'm supposed to keep my word. And I promised Draco... but if it means clearing this up I guess I have to tell. The truth is, Draco and I have been messing around playing rugby."
"Rug-bee," the casewitch repeated, the word clearly unfamiliar to her. And that was enough of a clue for Draco.
"Muggle game," the Slytherin boy put in, the first word of that coming out with predictable disdain.
"We shouldn't have kept it a secret from Severus," Harry admitted. "And I definitely shouldn't have told him I was fine when I was really sore, and wore long sleeves to hide the bruises, but I knew that if he found out about the rugby, he'd put a stop to it," the boy sighed. "And I really missed it. I used to play rugby all the time before I came to Hogwarts. Neighborhood league, you know. And Draco caught me sketching out plays on parchment one day, and thought it was interesting looking, and one thing just led to another. So when Severus arranged for us to have some time outdoors, we thought we'd try a few rugby moves..."
"It surely can't be that violent a game," the casewitch said, frowning. "A Muggle sport?"
"Watch it on the telly some time," Harry advised, knowing that the comment would remind her how he'd been raised, and make it just a little bit more credible that he'd wanted to play a Muggle game. "Rugby's the reason why Quidditch has never seemed rough to me," he brazenly lied.
"And the reason you didn't simply explain all this when you had the opportunity?" she crisply asked.
"I told you, I didn't want Severus to know, and besides, I'd promised Draco--"
"Actually, it was Mr. Malfoy whom I was asking," she clarified, turning a challenging gaze his way.
Draco flushed as he caught Harry's eye. Harry didn't know how well he was communicating the silent message For Merlin's sake, for once in your life tell a lie and make it stick... but in any case, the flush worked to their advantage, since it made the Slytherin boy look uncomfortable. That went along quite well with his drawled, "You know a bit about my background; do you think I'd want it getting around that I'd been spending my time on rubbish that Muggles dreamed up?" His silver eyes began to glint even as his voice went cool with satisfaction and arrogance. "And then there was the fact that I was so much better at it than Harry. That is, he was the one to come off the worse every time we played, which makes sense in a way. After all, I am a pureblood so it stands to reason I'd have finer reflexes and coordination and all that. But still, I hardly wanted people to know that not only did I play a Muggle game but that I was good at it."
"You lied to your father?" Snape icily inquired, standing to stomp over to Harry. "I was good enough to get you into the fresh air and sunshine as you asked, and my reward is to have you claim you're just going for a run to keep in shape, when in actual fact you're sneaking off to practice highly dangerous sports? It might surprise you to learn, Harry, that I've seen a spot of this rugby before! I do not appreciate finding out that you've been engaged in what to me seemed nothing short of organized suicide!"
Harry bit his lip. "Sorry," he murmured, and then in an undertone to the casewitch. "You can see why I didn't want to tell him."
"And to think that you concealed injuries," Snape spat in disgust. "I could have helped you, you idiot child!"
"But I knew you thought I'd already taken way too many potions recently, considering Samhain and all," Harry exclaimed. "I mean, that is why you warned me about not getting dependent on them, isn't it?"
"Dependency would not be a likely prospect had you not gotten yourself injured in the first place," Snape retorted. "And you," he roared, rounding on Draco, who rose gracefully to his feet. "You've been aiding and abetting this, have you? Not only that, but you knew Harry was sustaining injuries, and you just kept on playing this imbecilic game with him? What sort of brother are you?"
"A good one," Draco retorted. "Look, you haven't been around all the times he moaned for Diet Coke, or all the other Mugglish things he can't have here at Hogwarts. I was trying to cheer him up, if you must know, and if it meant playing a Muggle game--"
"If you're so enamored of Muggle activities, perhaps I ought to have you scrub out all my cauldrons without using magic!"