Severus insisted on accompanying Harry to his swimming lesson. Draco was expecting that, of course. The Dark Lord might be secreted away somewhere on the Continent, recovering from his bizarre decision to delve into Muggle medicine, but that didn't mean that all England was safe from his followers.

Draco actually thought it very unlikely that anything would happen in Exeter, of all places, but maybe Severus had more than one reason to come with them. And his reasons had nothing to do with the fact that neither Harry nor Draco was officially licensed to Apparate alone. That was just an excuse. No, the other reasons had everything to do with Harry.

Severus had probably noticed, as Draco had, that the closer the promised swimming lessons got, the more nervous Harry seemed to become.

That was understandable, though. If you didn't know how to manage in the water, then gulping down Gillyweed and diving into a lake inhabited by hostile merpeople was a terrible way to start learning. Draco really couldn't even conceive of it. He could remember that day very well. He'd been angry at Harry--ha, at Potter, it was then. --that day. He'd wanted with all his heart to see Harry drown. What he hadn't realised was that Harry was half-expecting to do just that. And yet he'd gone into the water anyway.

Now, just thinking about it gave Draco chills.

"It'll be all right," he said after Harry emerged from a changing stall and stood there shifting from foot to foot. "You'll see. Don't forget what I told you."

With Severus right alongside him, he couldn't be more specific, but he caught the glimmer in Harry's eyes, and thought the other boy understood. Draco wouldn't let him drown, not even if it required casting a buoyancy charm right in front of a pool full of Muggles. Then again, Severus wasn't about to let anything happen to Harry, either.

So it was a bit ridiculous for Harry to be looking so... well, not worried. More like this called up bad memories, maybe. Draco wondered if Harry was thinking of the Second Task, or if he was remembering how his cousin had been the only one in his family to get lessons. That would be a little rough.

"Ten sharp," said Draco, glancing at his new watch. "You'd best get out there."

"Oh, God," said Harry when they all emerged into the sunlight.

Draco followed his line of sight and saw a group of small children grouped against a wrought-iron gate. They seemed to be waiting for something. Draco wasn't sure what, but he did notice that the pool inside the fenced off area  looked like it couldn't be more than two or three feet deep. He almost said, go on, get with your class, Harry, but decided he'd better not. His brother looked upset enough as it was. "I think you're in the big pool," he said instead, and pointed to where a lone young man wearing red swim trunks was waiting.

"Hallo, you must be Harry," said the young man, thrusting out a hand as soon as Harry got close enough. "I'm Roger, your swim instructor. I think you'll want to take off your glasses."

Draco stepped forward and took them, then joined Severus, who had taken a seat on some concrete bleachers. "Damned uncomfortable," muttered Draco, slipping the glasses into his shirt pocket. "Are you sure I can't just . . ." He wiggled his index finger, just a little.

"Be thankful we're in the shade."

Draco was, even though he'd used some sunscreen potion before leaving Devon. Severus' had brewed it specially for Harry and him, but Draco thought it was probably more for him, since he was more prone to sunburn. Not that he'd ever suffered one. His parents had seen to that, just as they'd made sure he'd never sicked up when he was feeling ill.

Severus would probably make him get a sunburn if he misbehaved, Draco thought caustically, memories of Venetimorica making him grit his teeth. Or perhaps not, but the mere idea kept him from trying to surreptitiously draw his wand so he could cast a softening charm on the hard surface beneath his bum.

"That instructor's a bit young, don't you think?"

"Nineteen. He's taught swimming for three years and holds qualifications in that and lifesaving. He trained at--"

"All right, all right," said Draco, holding up his hands to stem the tide of information. "I understand. You didn't just pick a class from a list and sign a vault draft to cover it--"

"Ehem."

"Right," said Draco. It was harder than he would have thought to stop using wizarding references. They just came naturally. "Say, why didn't you tell Harry you'd paid for him to have private lessons?"

"Because I didn't. I merely made certain that he wouldn't be mixed in with much younger children. I suppose he's the only beginner his age, this session."

That made sense, so Draco turned back to watch Harry's lesson. Severus hadn't taken his attention from the pool, not for an instant, which made Draco realise he was being a bit lax. Constant vigilance, like Moody had said at that Order meeting, seemed called for.

Draco tried hard not to laugh when he saw what was going on in the pool. The swim instructor was trying to teach Harry to float on his back, and Harry was really having a time of it. His head kept dipping beneath the water, just enough for ripples to crest over his face. That wasn't so bad, but every time it happened, Harry tensed up, which of course made him really start to go under. Roger's hands, beneath Harry's back, would prop him back up so he could try again. And again.

Really, it was pretty boring to watch.

Draco leaned toward his father and whispered his question. "Why didn't you arrange for normal swimming lessons for Harry? You know. The kind I had." He meant with a proper wizard for an instructor, so the whole process could be helped along through the use of magic. This seemed undignified in contrast. Harry was actually sputtering, now.

Severus leaned back a little and laced his fingers together.

Which meant he needed prompting. "Well?"

The man slanted him a glance. "If you taunt Harry with this you'll get worse than lines. I mean it."

"Oh." Draco felt a little hurt by that. When had he taunted Harry? When lately, that was? Well, he supposed he did like to make it clear how little he thought of the werewolf, but that was mostly because he was worried about his mother. But then again, he probably shouldn't be. Narcissa Malfoy could take care of herself. Ha, she might already have figured out the whole thing and was keeping quiet for reasons of her own. She wanted to be on Draco's side, after all. And she hadn't been able to, not properly, while Lucius was alive and fully capable of denouncing her to the Dark Lord.

Draco got his mind back onto what Severus had just said. "If you think I'm low enough to taunt Harry with the fact that you could have arranged better lessons than this, then you haven't been paying proper attention," he said in his haughtiest voice. "We might not get on all the time, but I don't particularly want to hurt him. If I did, there's no end of things I could bring up."

Severus actually reached out and patted his leg, which Draco thought rather patronising. On the other hand, he also sort of liked it, so he didn't glare or anything.

"I've noticed that, Draco," said the man in a soothing voice. "And Harry himself recently remarked something similar."

All at once, Draco felt uncomfortable. "You want to watch that alliteration," he said, to cover it.

Severus gave his leg one last pat, as if to say that he wasn't fooled.

Draco frowned, only slowly realising that something wasn't right. Severus might not be as wealthy as his sons were, but he wasn't exactly knocking on the poorhouse door, either. "Er... why didn't you arrange better lessons, though?"

Severus flicked a glance at Draco. "I don't think your brother realises this himself, but to Harry these lessons are about more than swimming. It seems to me that what he really wants it to make up for lost time."

It took Draco a moment to follow that line of thought. But then he nodded. "I see... It's like with those biscuits. Harry wanted them because he couldn't have any when he was little."

Severus' features softened slightly. "Exactly. And the kind of lessons you had just wouldn't be the same."

"Did Marsha explain all this to you, or did you reason it out on your own?"

"You doubt my insight into my own son's psyche?"

Draco chuckled. "I don't doubt your ability to dodge a question."

A slight smile ghosted over Severus' features. "I usually have to go without Slytherin banter over the summers."

Clearly, he liked hearing some now. And that made Draco feel warm inside. Yeah, Severus made it clear in a lot of ways that he loved Harry, and even liked him, but he'd never really be able to get on with him the way he could with another Slytherin. No matter that Harry had almost been sorted that way and that he was an honorary Slytherin, these days. It just wasn't the same. Harry was unmistakably Gryffindor.

But Draco was used to that, so he didn't let it bother him.

"You're a good father," he said, quietly, looking down at his own hands.

"To you both, I should hope."

They sat in silence then, both of them merely watching Harry's lesson. Boring wasn't even the word, Draco quickly decided. That Roger bloke was having Harry practice putting his face in the water, now. Harry was blowing bubbles. Talk about undignified.

Draco lost track of that thought when a streak of red beyond the pool caught his eye. He glanced up instinctively to see a girl walking past, her swim suit a modest one-piece, though cut rather high in the leg. Draco almost whistled.

A moment later, he was profoundly glad he hadn't.

"How many times do I have to tell you?" called a tall, thin man who emerged from a doorway labelled Pool Office. "Ten o'clock sharp, Rhiannon!"

Rhiannon? Draco's heart did a flip inside his chest. Leaning forward, he peered more closely at the girl in the distance. Honey-blonde hair worked into a long braid that fell down her back... it could be her, but Draco couldn't be sure. She looked a little different now that she wasn't wearing her Queen of the Night costume.

If it was her, that was.

Draco turned to Severus. "You have this pretty well in hand, I think. Er... is it all right if I wander 'round a bit?"

The sardonic look in Severus' eyes said he wasn't fooled, but he gestured for Draco to go.

Draco dusted himself off as he stood, and sauntered toward the girl, taking the long way so he could figure out what to say to her. By then, she'd unlocked the gate where the small children had been waiting, and had sat down in a ridiculously high chair. Harry had explained on their previous visit that those were reserved for lifeguards.

Rhiannon Miller was a lifeguard?

Draco almost didn't walk the rest of the way over, as he was sure by then that it couldn't be her. But then she spoke, admonishing a child to walk instead of run, and he heard her voice. That same melodic, absolutely enchanting voice. Well, at least now he knew what to say to her straight away.

"I saw you at the opera. You sing wonderfully."

A bright smile curled her lips as she glanced down at him. "Oh, thank you. That's so nice to hear."

Draco smiled too, feeling like a cheering charm was washing through him. Things could not be better, even if he had no idea what to say next. Well, his name might be a good start. "Draco Snape," he said, reaching up to offer her his hand.

Her skin was soft and smooth when she briefly shook his hand. "Rhiannon Miller."

Now what? Draco's tongue felt like it was tied in knots. His stomach, too. What was wrong with him, getting nervous like this? He'd never had this problem with Pansy.

Maybe you didn't really love Pansy, a voice inside him said. Maybe you just thought you did. And this is different because it's the real thing.

"Er... so I'm surprised to see you here," he said. Which was an understatement, of course. He couldn't figure out why she'd be working a job like this. Harry would say it was because she was a Muggle, Draco thought with disgust. Well, there must be some explanation for it. Some other explanation. "The opera doesn't take up all your time?"

"Oh, I wish it could," said Rhiannon, turning in her chair, now. Her smile faded. "I hate working here."

Draco raised an eyebrow.

Rhiannon laughed a little, the sound of it like tinkling bells. Merlin, everything about her was beautiful. Everything.

"I shouldn't complain, I know. It's good of my aunt and uncle to let me stay with them, this summer. I couldn't work with the theatre company, otherwise. And all they ask in return is that I help out at the pool, so . . ." Rhiannon shrugged.

Draco still felt confused. It wasn't a feeling he liked. "Er . . ."

Rhiannon laughed again. "Sorry. My uncle owns the pool, you see."

Oh. That made sense. Her family was in commerce--Draco repressed an urge to shudder--and everyone had to contribute. Well, at least she had the sense to hate it. That probably made it all right.

"I'd mind it less if he actually needed the help," Rhiannon went on. "You see, my family... oh, sorry. Long story."

As far as Draco was concerned, the longer the better. Just listening to her speak was a pleasure. He wanted to see her smile again, wanted the soft feel of her hand in his... "No, tell me. If you like, I mean."

"Well, let's just say that my parents and my uncle don't see eye to eye. They're just... er, different sorts of people, you know?"

Different sorts of people. If that wasn't code for magical versus Muggle, then Draco didn't know what was.

Rhiannon was still speaking. "My mum and dad approve of me devoting my time to singing. I don't think my aunt minds much either, but my uncle insists that I need a real job, as he puts it. The local opera company here was asking for summer interns, and I was lucky enough to get a slot, but I needed somewhere to stay, and that was the deal, that's all. He wasn't going to put me up unless I worked here."

Draco figured the man he'd seen earlier must have been her uncle, then. He'd never heard of a wizard running a pool, so it stood to reason he was a Muggle. The way he figured it, she came from a pure-blood family, but her aunt had married a Muggle. Unfortunate, but it did happen. Even in Draco's own family, things like that had been known to happen.

Draco wondered for a moment if she knew that he was a wizard. Likely not, especially since he'd given his name as Snape. Malfoy was a lot more recognisable. She wouldn't know anything about a Draco Snape unless she read the fine-print announcements of adoption and such in the back of the Prophet.

"So, I'm just here for the summer," he volunteered, deciding to find out why she hadn't gone to Hogwarts. Harry would be sorry he'd made so much of that, once Draco had an explanation. "What about you? Do you go to school near here?"

"Oh, I'm done with all that." Rhiannon smiled. "I turn eighteen in September."

She was older than he was, then, but not by much. It didn't bother Draco, though he still did want to tell Harry why Rhiannon hadn't attended Hogwarts. "Where did you go to school, then?"

Rhiannon's smile faltered. "Oh. I... er, I didn't, really. I learned at home."

Private tutors, just as Draco had thought. Her parents must be well-off, if not the aunt who had married beneath her. He wondered why her parents hadn't just set her up in a flat so she could do the internship. He didn't wonder about that for long, though. Pure-blood families were usually pretty protective of their daughters. Her parents would have wanted her to stay with family. For all Draco knew, they might even have wanted her to have some exposure to the Muggle world.

Kind of like Severus making them shop as Muggles, these days.

"You learned to sing like that at home?"

Rhiannon bristled a little bit. "Why not? My mother sings a bit. Better than I do, actually."

"Can't be done." That had her smiling again, which made Draco warm to the theme. "Oh, yes. I've seen a lot of opera, and I never enjoyed Mozart half so much. Your voice is truly stunning."

A pretty blush pinked her cheeks. "Mozart's my favourite."

"Mine, too." They got to talking opera, then. Draco lost track of the time. All he knew was that he could have stood there talking to her all day long. The noise of a throat being cleared made him remember he wasn't there alone, though.

Turning, he saw that both Harry and Severus were standing on the other side of the fence around the children's pool. For a moment, he was annoyed to be interrupted. But then he realised that he still had his brother's glasses, and thought, this could be fun.

Draco walked the few feet to the fence and passed them over. "Take a good look," he whispered. Then, with a flourish of his hand: "Rhiannon, I'd like to introduce you to my family. That's my father, Severus Snape, and my brother, Harry."

"Pleased to meet you," said Rhiannon, smiling in a distant sort of way.

Draco couldn't help it if his own smile was mischievous. "Severus, Harry, this is Rhiannon Miller. I don't know if you remember, but we saw her sing last Thursday night. Wasn't she marvellous as the Queen of the Night?"

"A pleasure," drawled Severus from behind the fence.

"Hallo," said Harry. Huh, he looked a bit smug. That was annoying. But then again, he was probably going to claim that working here proved Rhiannon was a Muggle. Draco's nostrils flared. Wasn't Harry in for a surprise? Now, however, wasn't the time to discuss it.

Walking back to Rhiannon, Draco lowered his voice. "So, I suppose I'll be seeing you again, sometime. Can't keep me away from a pool during the summer--"

Rhiannon's glance at his trousers and short-sleeved collared shirt was openly curious. "You don't look like you swim much."

Draco's mouth went dry. Frantically Occluding to lend support to his lie, he managed to croak out an answer. "Oh. Er... well, I came today to watch my brother's lesson. Didn't think I'd be allowed in the water."

"We're not open for free-swim during lesson times, true, but nobody will care if you splash about at the other end of the pool."

Draco nodded, though of course he'd much rather come 'round to the children's pool to chat Rhiannon up, than take a solitary swim during Harry's lesson. "Er... are you here every day?"

Rhiannon made a face. "Monday through Friday, ten until three."

Harry's next lesson was on Wednesday. The day after tomorrow. It felt like forever, to Draco.

Rhiannon directed her gaze beyond the fence. "Maybe I can convince Roger to take my chair for a while, so I can have a break."

Draco's heart sped up. Was she hinting that she'd like to spend more time with him, straight away? Was he supposed to offer to take her out somewhere, for a quick bite to eat? No matter that it was barely gone eleven. He suddenly wished he was at the pool alone. His family hanging about was really inconvenient. Draco sighed when it came to him that Harry had already changed back into the clothes he'd come in. "I guess I have to go, then."

He wished he hadn't said it when he saw the look Rhiannon gave him. Obviously he had to go, since his father and brother were standing there waiting for him. Harry was even smirking a little, like he'd seen Draco be a lot smoother than this.

Draco did his best to recover his dignity. "Bye, Rhiannon."

She just nodded, slouching a bit as she turned back to stare at the pool full of children.