But Snape wasn't right about everything, was he? Look at how he'd gone about swaying Ron, all those ridiculous lines! Not to mention the way he'd failed to convince Hermione to overlook his bruises...
So Harry's worry was back with a vengeance, because if he was sure of anything, it was that there was something to this latest series of seer dreams. It might be something he didn't really understand yet, but there was something to them. It couldn't be a coincidence that he'd dreamed of unadoption and then Hermione had reported his bruises to Family Services. Maybe Draco was right, and his lies had changed that part of the future!
What if the Owlery dream came true, and he could have stopped it, and he hadn't? It would be like Sirius all over again, only worse, because at least then he'd only realized afterwards how stupid he'd been.
Enough was enough, Harry thought. He wasn't about to let Draco die. He just wasn't.
But maybe he could manage the whole thing without completely alienating his father. He hoped so, anyway.
"Listen, what's actually been going on is that my magic has come back," he blurted, nerves making him stand up as he said it. "And it's out of whack and really weak. Pitiful, actually, but I have to go back to classes soon and Severus is trying to make sure that I don't get completely torn to bits by... er, Slytherins, actually, so we've been practicing dueling, is all!"
Oh God, he could feel Snape's stare just searing him to the spot. The man was angry.
Seriously, seriously angry.
Hermione gave him a pitying look. "Oh, Harry. First you're having strange accidents nobody could possibly believe, then you're learning to Muggle-fight, then neither one of those is true but you're playing rugby, a sport you've never once mentioned to me in over five years, then that's not true either but you're practicing magic you don't have? Credit me with a little sense."
Thinking he'd have to show her, Harry drew his wand. He saw Hermione's interest pick up at the fact that he had it on him.
"Potter," Snape warned in a dark, dangerous tone.
"He didn't want me to tell you," Harry said. "Hence all the stories. Though it was true he was teaching me to Muggle-fight as well, Hermione. He has to, given how pathetic my restored magic's turning out to be. I mean, I'm barely a wizard at all--" he babbled. "Snape's really worried--"
"I can speak for myself, Potter," Snape put in, still in that same you-are-in-so-much-trouble voice. "Put that wand away!"
"Everybody's going to know in a couple of weeks anyway," Harry argued as he stepped farther away from his father. "When I'm in class." And then, before Snape could lunge across the room and stop him, Harry pointed his fingers at Ron's empty champagne flute, making sure his wand looked like it was in use when it wasn't really.
Glancing at Sals in her little box, he said in Parseltongue, "Take wing--"
"Accio Harry's wand!" Snape interrupted, brandishing his own.
Harry was speaking on top of him, though, beginning his countercharm the instant he heard Snape begin that accio. His reflexes honed from all the dueling they'd done, he shouted, "You stay put right where you are!" the words still in Parseltongue. Good thing he'd figured out anti-summoning charms when he was working on his spell lexicon.
His wand remained firmly grasped in his hand.
Hermione rose shakily to her feet, a hand pressed to her mouth. "You... your spell..."
"Oh for Merlin's sake!" Draco erupted. "Yes, he's a Parselmouth! You knew that already!"
The invective seemed to break Hermione out of her transfixed state. "Harry.... your spell overcame his," she breathed, her comment proving that contrary to Draco's assumption, it wasn't the Parseltongue that had astonished her. She chanced a glance at Snape, and then, as if unsure whether he would be angry, quickly looked away.
"Uh, that wasn't a spell," Harry lied, horrified as he realized what a can of worms he'd just opened. He tried to think of something to tell her, anything to cover the unassailable fact that Snape's accio had failed utterly to do a thing to Harry's wand. It seemed like lies were dancing all around him, just out of his grasp, and it was all he could do to dredge up a paltry explanation such as... "It was... er, well, it's like this. Um... Snape's been having some trouble with his magic too, see? 'Cause what I had, you know, that made my magic vanish? Well, it was contagious, turns out--"
"Harry, do I actually look stupid? Because frankly, I'm getting sick of you acting like you think I am!"
"Oh, God," Harry moaned. This was going all wrong. He'd only meant to show her that his magic was back. He hadn't meant her to realize how strong it was.
"The truth, if you would. The real truth, this time," Hermione demanded. And when it still wasn't forthcoming, "Never mind, I can guess the rest of it. Your spell overcame his..." she slowly repeated. "Therefore, your magic's back, but it isn't weak at all, is it?"
"Uh--"
Picking up momentum, Hermione exclaimed, "It's not! Your magic's powerful, probably frighteningly powerful, which stands to reason if you have to incant your spells in Parseltongue, which is thought to be rare because the power is so hard to access. You've obviously found a way straight into your deepest powers, Harry! Why would the Professor try to summon your wand to stop you? You most likely don't even need it any longer, have you realized that? But with a wand your spells are probably so strong they're unreal--"
"That's quite enough, Miss Granger!" Snape erupted.
"I bet you concussed yourself!" Hermione gasped, ignoring the Potions Master. "With some spell that caught you off guard, right? And the professor has been helping you learn to control this new, violent magic, so it's no wonder you've gotten banged up quite a bit. Oh, Harry, I am sorry I wrote to Family Services! I wouldn't have, if you'd have told me--" She suddenly gasped, and took a step back from Snape. "Oh, dear. You weren't supposed to tell me. And now you're in trouble..."
"In trouble but not in danger," Snape growled. "Unless you are now going to file another report claiming that you're worried Harry's Slytherin father can't handle a little family discord without resorting to his wand, or perhaps his fists?"
"No, sir," Hermione breathed, appalled. "I don't think that of you! I never thought that. I just... well, honestly, I thought Malfoy might be the one who was hitting Harry. It seemed like the kind of thing he'd do! And besides, I'd never seen Harry so cowed before. Right in front of me, Malfoy would tell Harry to stop talking, and he would! It was really worrisome!"
Harry sighed, chancing another glance at Snape, who still looked so grim that Harry shivered. "Draco knew it wasn't such a good idea for me to disobey my father. He was trying to help me all those times he told me to shut up."
Ron didn't say anything, but he looked as though the prospect of a helpful Draco was a bit hard to swallow.
Harry couldn't help but frown. The sodding Malfoy remark still eating at the edge of his consciousness, not to mention Hermione's easy assumption that Draco would hit him, of all things, he had to say, "Look, the part about me going back to being a regular student is true, so I'll see a lot more of you. And there's something we have to get clear. You can't go around badmouthing Draco, all right? I know you can't stand him, but like it or not, he's my friend too, now."