Harry waited until Snape had moved off before he said in a furious undertone, "I need half of that!"
"Oh, here, take what you want." Hermione thrust the cauldron into Harry's hands. "I never said I wasn't going to share, you know! I was just a bit concerned about being able to complete the potion properly!"
Harry curled a lip and walked away. After he'd warmed the potion to a liquid, he poured half of it into Nott's cauldron and handed the Slytherin boy his own one. "Go give that to Hermione, would you?"
Nott looked a bit bemused by that; maybe he thought Harry ought to do it himself. But he did it agreeably enough, even staying a minute to chat. That was sort of interesting.
Nah, Harry told himself. He wouldn't talk to a Muggleborn. He's just saying something to Zabini.
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After their potions were bottled, labelled, and lined up in a neat row on Snape's desk, and everyone was packing up to leave, Harry hung back to talk to his father. He waited until there was no one else left in the classroom, then wandered to the front and plunked his book bag down alongside his feet.
"Professor?"
Snape gave him what Harry could only think of as a rather pointed look. But since Harry didn't know what the point might be, that wasn't too helpful. "Yes, Mr. Potter?"
"I have something to ask you." Reaching down into his bag, Harry drew out a mass of folded notes and parchments. Putting them on the counter between them, he began sifting through them, looking for the one he'd written his question on.
When he couldn't find it straight away, he glanced up in apology, only to see his father's eyebrows drawn together in a fairly ominous way. "I thought we had settled this matter, Harry."
Harry followed the man's gaze down and saw that Snape was staring at the half-slip of parchment that McGonagall had given Harry when she'd announced the Hogsmeade Saturday. The permission slip.
"Sorry, sir." Grabbing it, Harry swept the parchment back into his bag, the motion so frantic that he ended up strewing his notes all over Snape's counter. Half of them scattered across the floor. Harry fell to his hands and knees to gather them up. "Sorry," he said again when he finally stood up.
Snape gave him an exasperated look and all at once waved his wand, causing the doors to the corridor to swing quietly closed. "Please do stop apologising so incessantly. Now, why are you so nervous?"
Harry thrust his papers back onto his father's desk. "Well, I wouldn't want you to think I was asking again to go to Hogsmeade when you'd already said no, that's all."
Snape looked a bit unconvinced by that explanation, Harry thought. But it had been the truth, so Harry didn't know what else to say.
"Well, what was it that you wished to ask me, then?"
"It's about the well-wish for Draco." After finding the right sheet of parchment in his notes, Harry peered closely at his own writing, trying to remember what he'd needed to find out. "Oh, right, cactus, that was it. I think it represents both protection and chastity? Well, how do I make sure Draco interprets it the way I'd prefer? Because the mood he's in these days, I'm a little worried he'll think I'm saying something about his love-life. And that'll remind him that about Pansy."
"A valid concern." Snape's gaze on Harry was steady. "The things Draco has been saying of late... he is in fact likely to read the worst possible meaning into your gesture of good-will."
Harry frowned, then tried to laugh it off. "Yeah, and then he'll make some snide remark about my background, I bet. You know, like how the Muggle-raised among us can't be expected to understand true wizarding culture."
"Would you prefer I rebuke him every time he says something so loathsome?"
Yeah, Harry thought, one part of him really would like that. But the other part of him, the one that wanted to be a good brother, could see it wasn't such a great idea. He shook his head. "Thanks, sir. But Draco really needs things to be even. Like the allowance thing--"
Though come to think of it, Draco hadn't wanted their allowances to be even, had he? He'd wanted at least as much as Harry was getting, which was a little different from demanding exactly the same.
What a total prat.
Snape evidently thought so, too. "That," he said an emphatic tone, "was abhorrent."
Harry was hardly going to disagree, especially since it was perfectly obvious that Snape had intended to include Draco in the allowance from the start. Why else would he have emerged from his room with exactly eighty-eight Galleons in his pouch? "Yeah, it was rude and demanding of him, but do you see what I mean? If you criticise Draco every time he insults me, he'll just feel like you're favouring me over him. I think it'll make his attitude ten times worse."
The Potions Master gave a sharp nod. "I must admit I concur. So then, cactus. Interesting choice. What is your source text?"
Harry peered at his notes again. "Um, looks like Wizard's Guide to Home and Family."
"A scholarly work indeed," drawled Snape.
For him, that was a pretty restrained comment on the reliability of the source. "What, is the bit on cactus not right?"
"A decent treatment of the subject would have mentioned that only flowering cactus is linked to chastity. As long as you give Draco any variety sans blossoms he will not fail to realise that your wish for him is protection."
Grimacing slightly, Harry started to put his notes away. "He'll probably still pretend I meant something mean."
"That is in fact likely." Snape paused. "I know that time spent with Draco is less than pleasant at present, but I would still like for you to join us for dinner this evening. And perhaps a round of Wizard's Scrabble afterwards. If you are at leisure?"
"Actually, I think I'd better go make up with Hermione."
"Another night this week then, perhaps."
Harry sighed then, thinking that he'd also better get a start on the essay his father had set him. Between his regular homework, and researching the well-wish, and finding the repelling charm for Sals' box, he just hadn't had time to work on it. Actually, he hadn't had much time for his homework, either. But Saturday was approaching fast and Harry wanted to have the essay completed as he'd promised. Besides, dinner was probably a bad idea in any case. Maybe if Draco got enough time alone with his new father, he'd stop thinking that Harry was some sort of threat, and then they'd all start getting along again.
Harry hefted his book bag over his shoulder as he shook his head. "Sorry, sir. I have a lot to do."
"Yes, loads. I remember." Snape's tone was rather dark, but then he seemed to shrug it off. "As I recall, your spell lexicon did not yet include duplication charms. Have you remedied that?"
"No, but I will, sir." Harry added it to the growing mental lists of tasks he had to somehow find time for. Just as well he'd insisted Ginny stay on as Seeker; there was no way he could fit Quidditch practise in as well.
Let alone D.A.... Some of the students had asked him to start that up again, but Harry had decided it wasn't such a good idea. He didn't want to look like he thought he was some kind of expert... especially not now, when his magic was supposed to be so weak and wonky.
"Draco's professors are continuing to supply me with lessons schedules so that he can keep up with his schoolwork, but copies of your class notes would be efficacious. If you have trouble mastering the charm then please ask one of your friends to assist you." The Potions Master grimaced slightly. "I believe Miss Granger is the most likely to be competent."
"Uh, okay," said Harry, a little bit surprised. When he'd thought of Snape continuing Draco's education on his own, he hadn't realised that the Potions Master would go about things as though his son had never been expelled at all. That was good, though. It might help keep Draco's spirits up. "I'll owl my notes down every night as soon as I get copies made."