Harry frowned as he leaned on a counter. "Do you want to do anything creative?"
"No. I just want to be let back into school."
"Do you still hate Slytherin every bit as much?" When Draco nodded, Harry bit his lower lip. "Well, suppose you did get back in. Would you want to be re-sorted?"
Draco raised his eyebrows. "Why, are you wishing I could move into Gryffindor?"
"And listen to you fight with Ron all the time? I don't think so."
"But just think how red his face would get each time I went out of my way to smile at Hermione."
Harry pushed off from the counter. "You aren't attracted to Hermione."
"Ten points to Gryffindor for figuring out the bloody obvious. I told you that my idea of a girlfriend wasn't a walking library." Draco's smile fell, then, and he fixed his gaze on the floor. "Besides, I couldn't insult Pansy's memory like that."
"By dating a Muggleborn, you mean?"
"No. By dating anyone, I mean." Draco's head was still bowed as he glanced up through his fringe. "You wouldn't understand, Harry. One minute I was in that closet with her, and she was kissing me like mad, like she'd been starving for me and couldn't get enough. And the next I was waking up and being told she was gone forever. And we'd just started to work it all out! She was going to defy her parents. I was going ask her to marry me, Harry. And then she was just gone, just like that?"
Harry didn't know what to say, but he knew he had to say something. "I know what you mean. A little, at least. When Cedric died, it was so sudden and unexpected... I couldn't believe he was gone, just like that."
"Cedric." Draco shook his head. "It's not the same thing at all. You didn't love Cedric."
Swallowing, Harry whispered, "I loved Sirius, though."
"Look, I'd never claim your life had been free of tragic happenings," Draco said on a sigh, "but it's still not the same, Harry. Pansy wanted to bear my children, all right? And that despite the fact that I'd been disowned not just by my parents but also by practically all of pureblood and Slytherin Britain. And she still wanted me; she told me so. I'm never going to want anybody else."
The conversation was getting a little more intense than Harry had figured on. "Um... well..."
Draco shook his head. "Yeah, you're pretty much stuck, aren't you? You can't say you're sorry because you're still not sure Pansy really had reformed. You still think it was all some elaborate set-up!"
"I'm sorry you got hurt, though."
"Yeah, well what is life but?" Draco shrugged. "Which brings us back to what you were asking about. If I'd want to be resorted. I can't believe you'd have to ask. I might hate Slytherin but I owe Severus one hell of a lot. He's always been my Head of House and I sure wouldn't trade him for Sprout or Flitwick or Merlin forbid, McGonagall."
"She's all right."
"Then why were you rude enough to her to make her take points?"
"I was just a bit fed up with Aran, actually."
"Ah, Aran. Is it too much to hope you mentioned how useless his class is?"
Harry couldn't help but remember that his father magically recorded everything that happened inside his private laboratory, so he was hardly about to mention that he'd called another teacher names. He had to say something, though. "She knows how useless his class is, I think. Ha, he's so clueless that he didn't even notice when Nott said he was ridiculous, right to his face!" Harry briefly explained the incident.
"Too bad I couldn't have seen that," Draco said, shaking his head. "I feel like I'm missing everything. But there's no hope for it. Let's get started on the lesson, all right? Which three ingredients here are no use at all?"
It only took Harry six tries to pick them out.
-----------------------------------------------
"Dad," Harry said later that night just before he went to bed. "Time to put in my Elixir."
Snape looked him up and down. "When was the last time you took off your glasses, Harry?"
"Except for showering and the like?" Harry lifted his shoulders. "Um, don't know. I'm pretty used to them, you know. I don't really think about it much. But I guess I should."
He slid his glasses into his shirt pocket and blinked, getting used to the sensation of having both eyes see instead of one blocked off. "Hmm. Well, one side is definitely blurry, but it's actually a lot better than it used to be."
"You may not be aware of it, but you're squinting with one eye."
Harry chuckled. "That must look a bit weird."
"Quite."
The boy tried to relax his face. "Well, even without squinting I can make out things pretty well."
Snape's voice was suffused with humour. "You're still squinting, Harry. I suggest you keep wearing your glasses until you can manage not to."
"I'm never going to get out of these bloody things."
His father moved closer and cast Lumos, shining the wand light into Harry's left eye and then his right as he compared them. "Give the Elixir two more weeks," he finally suggested. "The scratches on your cornea are barely perceptible now. When they've healed completely you shouldn't need to worry about squinting or headaches."
"So I will get out of these things," said Harry, settling his glasses back on his face.
"I would think so, yes."
Harry felt like he'd just eaten something warm and filling. "Thanks, Dad. I know you don't need to hear it, but I'm really grateful you're so good at potion-making."
Snape inclined his head in acknowledgment. "Have you considered what you will do about playing Seeker?"
"Not really." Harry frowned. "This year's practically over so it hardly matters, but you mean next year, I guess. I hate to take it away from Ginny, but on the other hand, I really miss it. Though if I start playing it'll cause hard feelings in Slytherin, I think."
"Consider the matter over the summer."
Harry blinked. "I thought you'd say I'd better not play next year either, as we'll still be wanting to keep everyone thinking my magic's all wonky."
Snape's lips twisted slightly. "Come Harry, I'm sure we can be more honest with one another than that. Didn't you actually think I'd have an ulterior motive for saying that? You think I won't want you helping Gryffindor win."
"Um... well... you have always seemed just a tad obsessed about Slytherin winning the House Cup."
"Which not-so-coincidentally, hasn't happened once since you've been here," said Snape with a hint of the old sourness in his voice.
Harry laughed. It was so nice that comments like that didn't bother him any longer. "I know it matters to you, Dad. I wish I knew what you wanted me to do about it."
"I thought I was perfectly clear. Allow Miss Weasley to finish the season, and consider the matter over the summer."
Harry sighed in exasperation. "That's not exactly helpful advice, Dad."
"Do you want me to treat you as though you were six instead of sixteen?"
"Well, no--"
"I don't think you'll be satisfied with any solution I impose on you. But you're quite a capable young man; I've no doubt you'll work it out." Snape shrugged as though to dismiss the conversation. "Your Skele-Gro today, Harry. Draco pronounced it adequate but my standards are higher than his. You'll need to brew it again. Try crushing your pomegranate seeds more finely and for Merlin's sake, stop breathing over the cauldron."
"I knew it!" Harry made a face. "You watched us brew. And Draco thought you were starting to trust him!"
"Draco's no more likely than you to forget I can in fact observe anything that transpires in my laboratory." Snape paused. "Offended?"
"No, not exactly. Just... I don't like the feeling I don't have any real privacy here." Wondering about that, Harry decided to see if he could find out if the spells on the lab recorded sound as well as image. "I mean, what if Draco and I want to talk about girls?"