"I think he'd rather not see me fall off my broom from ten storeys up," Harry said, looking her in the eyes. "My magic isn't what it used to be, in case you hadn't noticed, and it's affected my flying."
"Oh."
That certainly took the wind out of their sails. All their sails, Harry noticed.
"Should have known you'd be as useless as always," Bulstrode finally muttered.
The group sort of dispersed then, and Harry was left alone with Nott. "So you need a broom that responds to Parseltongue, you think?"
"Haven't thought about it," said Harry. "Maybe I'm just out of practise."
"But you haven't been practising with the Gryffindors, either," pressed Nott.
"Too much else do to. Which reminds me..." Harry began to wind his way back to Snape. Nott followed for a moment but then evidently thought better of it. Once he reached his father, Harry gave him one of those work-with-me looks and said, "I think that potion has probably brewed long enough, Dad."
"Oh yes, most likely," Snape agreed, rising to his feet and nodding at the seventh-year he'd been speaking with. "As I said, Mr. Torquay. I consider every apprentice application I receive. Owl me yours, and we will talk."
Flicking his wand, Snape sent off a shower of sparks which got everyone's attention. "Hogsmeade Saturdays and celebrations aside, the monitoring spells will inform me if anyone remains out of bed past one, ladies and gentlemen. I therefore suggest you retire forthwith."
With that, he was ushering Harry out.
"It's one in the morning already?" yawned Harry as they began the long, uphill walk to the Tower.
"Yes. I recommend you catch up on your sleep tomorrow, Harry."
"Can't. Homework."
"You won't do it well if you're overtired."
"Yeah, all right..." It seemed like there was something he needed to tell Snape, Harry thought. Oh. "Thanks for the party, Dad," he murmured, but the feeling didn't go away. So there was something else... "Oh, yeah. If anybody asks, I don't fly so well these days."
"Your broomstick skills are as finely honed as ever."
"Yeah, but they want me to play Slytherin Seeker and that's just not on." Harry chanced a glance up at Snape's dark gaze as they walked along.
"No, I don't imagine it would be," said Snape. "You needn't worry yourself so much about my approval, Harry. You won't lose it merely by being yourself. Even your Gryffindor self, if I make myself clear?"
"Yes." Harry smiled.
"That said, I would like you to become more a part of my own House, so do not hesitate to let me know when you would like me to accompany you to the common room once more."
"As long as you're there, they're going to put on an act though."
"There is little choice at present. Ah, here we are." Snape stopped in front of the Fat Lady's portrait. "Well, good-night then, Harry."
Harry told the Fat Lady the password. "'Night, Dad. Oh, would you tell Draco I'll be down to see him soon?"
Snape's dark eyes reflected satisfaction as he whirled away to return to his dungeons.
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Harry slept most of Sunday. Famished, he woke up in time to eat several helpings of everything served at dinner, then worked a few hours on his homework and slept again. In Monday morning Charms class, Flitwick assigned him a detention for skiving off class; Ron got one as well. Harry wasn't sure if they had Snape to thank for that; Flitwick wasn't usually so strict. But at least he hadn't taken points, so Harry decided it wasn't worth asking either one of them whose idea the detention was.
He couldn't see his family on Monday night because he ended up proofreading essays for Flitwick all evening. Well, that certainly cleared up whose doing the detention really was. One of the disadvantages of having your father on staff...
Another disadvantage was that your friends--Ron, in this case--didn't much appreciate getting caught in the middle when your father decided to make a point. Well, at least Ron hadn't been sent off with Filch for any truly nasty work. All he had to do was file papers without magic. Still, Ron grumbled about it the whole next day.
Hermione, of course, said it served him right for helping Harry miss a lesson.
All right, so no more skiving off classes.
Unless he had to, of course.
Harry brought his books to lunch on Tuesday and reviewed his Potions readings. He wasn't sure if his father would have the class re-brew Waldenholfer's Acuity Draught or he would stick to the schedule announced last week, but he wanted to be ready, either way. He sort of hoped they were just moving on to the next topic. He'd brewed the Acuity Draught twice on Saturday, after all, and the next potion in the text didn't require any charms to be cast. Harry thought he could do with the little break that represented.
Anaforarian base potion, he thought as he made his way down to the dungeons. Let's do that one today... And sure enough, they did. It was all Harry could do not to give his dad a big grin.
Class went well, with Harry earning five points for his correct answer about why the base potion would, if spilled, melt off fingers but not toes. For a moment, he wondered how the counters would apportion an odd number of points. Then Snape's intense questioning continued and he forgot all about it.
"You go on to dinner," he told his friends when class was over. "I think I'll eat with my family tonight."
Hermione and Ron went off, talking about the Prefect's meeting McGonagall had called for that evening.
Harry waited until the classroom door was closed, then walked to where Snape was shuffling through piles of submitted homework. "Do you have a lot to do? Because I was hoping you could walk me down now."
Snape glanced up, his dark eyes distracted. "I'll be along in a while, Harry. Have your friends escort you."
"They left."
"Ah." The Potions Master thought about that for a moment. "You may use my office Floo if you like. The powder is in the covered ivory cup on the mantle. Would you arrange dinner for the three of us? Ever since Saturday Draco has taken to ordering foods he knows I detest."
"Why don't you just send them back and order what you want?"
"I prefer not to give him the satisfaction." Snape grimaced. "In that vein, perhaps you'd better act as though I didn't ask you to see to this evening's repast."
"Don't worry." Harry headed off towards his father's office. "Draco won't suspect a thing."
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Draco wasn't in the living room or their bedroom, which struck Harry as a little odd until he realised the other boy must be brewing. Well, it was about time Draco did some homework, and it only stood to reason he'd start with the subject he liked best. Of course the sixth-year Potions class was bound to pose him some difficulties, since the emphasis was on charmed potions. Maybe Draco was working on the Anaforarian base potion, though. He could do that one...
The ingredients set out on the worktable in Snape's lab, however, didn't have anything to do with their assignment. Harry didn't even know what sort of potion would use them. "What are you working on?"
Draco glanced over his shoulder, then bent down to manually adjust the flame beneath his cauldron. "Personal experiment."
"Oh yeah?" Harry though it would be better if Draco was working on an actual assignment, but he supposed this was better than nothing. Maybe it would get the other boy interested in his schoolwork again, at least.
"Yeah," Draco drawled, mimicking Harry's tone. "Is that a problem for you?"
"No..."
"Then get out and just let me get on with it," shouted Draco. "You go make yourself useful. Set the menu or something!"
"Sure," said Harry, hiding a smile. He went out and ordered a nice chicken curry for the three of them.