How to do a Cartwheel

The next day's challenge was no less surprising than the previous two had been. On the third day, Severus was returning to his rooms from a short shopping trip in Hogsmeade, his small frame shivering underneath his thick robes and snow lightly dusting his black hair. As he pushed open the front door of the school and stepped into the Entrance Hall, he was surprised to find his apprentice standing in the middle of it. She was wearing a slip of a vest and a tiny pair of shorts that were more suited to a Mediterranean summer than a Scottish winter, and she was studying that blasted book intently with a worried look on her face. The sound of the door closing, however, distracted her and she looked up quickly.

"Hello Severus, back so soon?"

"You shall catch your death if you continue to dress in such a manner." Hermione laughed.

"I've cast a warming charm. And besides, I need clothing I can move in for my challenge; robes certainly wouldn't have been suitable. Speaking of the challenge...could you help me?" He supposed that he did not have much of a choice.

As he approached her, she reached out her hand and gave the book to him. He took it and looked down at the page, reading the title with much amusement: How to Do a Cartwheel. He had presumed that such an activity was a requisite part of every childhood; in fact, even he had performed cartwheels when he was younger. He looked at Granger.

"Where is the challenge in this?" It isn't much of a task if you can do it already. She crossed her arms and scowled at him, looking a little embarrassed.

"That's the problem – I can't do it! I was the only one at primary school who was unable to do them; I just had to watch, whilst the other girls flung themselves around the playground."

"And how may I assist you in this?"

"Read the instructions for me, and I'll try and perform them properly." She grinned at him mockingly. "Don't worry, I won't expect a demonstration!"

Snape watched as she went to the back of the hall. She stood facing him, unable to hide the trepidation that was displayed so clearly on her face. It seemed that physical activity was not Miss Granger's strong point; she was appalling at flying, and clearly not very good at muggle activities either. But then he could not understand how she maintained her figure; she was by no means thin, but had a rather shapely and pleasing form. Particularly in those shorts. Realising that she was waiting for him, he cleared his throat and looked at the book.

"Raise your arms to 10 and 2 O'clock." She did it. "Step forwards slightly with the left leg, your knee bent a little. Bend at the waist, reaching towards the ground with your left hand and kick your right leg into the air, up above your head. Follow quickly with the right hand and, as it touches the ground, your left leg should have left the ground. Momentum should carry you."

He watched, impressed, as she made a complete cartwheel. When she returned to standing position, she turned and beamed at him.

"That was fantastic! If only Molly Forde could see me now, she wouldn't tease me half as much! I think I might try it again." Severus watched once more as she repeated the motions, sending her through another well-executed cartwheel.

"It seems you have got the hang of it, Miss Granger."

"I think I'll give it one more turn, just to make sure!" This time she seemed intent to put all of her energy into it, and practically flung herself onto the ground. Whilst at first she seemed to have been successful once again, as she was ending her cartwheel she gave a little wobble and, unfortunately, collided directly with Severus.

The force that she had put into her cartwheel sent them both careering onto the tiled floor of the entrance hall; her small shriek echoed around the room, mingling with Snape's unguarded 'oomph' as her small hands hit his stomach. Somehow, amidst the tangling of limbs, Severus ended led on his back with Hermione led on top of him, her arms around his neck as though she were clinging on for dear life. He supposed that he should be angry (after all she wasn't exactly light and it was a rather compromising position) but he found that he was not. In fact, he rather liked the feeling of her warm body on top of his. Suddenly, he remembered that, however intelligent and pleasing to converse with she was, however pretty her hair had looked the day before and her legs looked in those shorts, and however warm she was, she was his apprentice and only three years ago had been his student.

"Are you quite satisfied, Miss Granger?" He muttered, scowling. She blushed furiously and sat up, springing as far away from him as she could possibly go.

"I'm terribly sorry, Professor! I didn't mean…"

"Come Miss Granger, we must get up off the floor before anyone sees us." He stood up and dusted off his cloak, before extending his hand and helping her to her feet. He smirked at her, as she tried to hide the embarrassed flush on her face. "Perhaps tomorrow won't be quite as dangerous?" He asked. She smiled.

"Definitely not. In fact, I rather think it will be quite pleasant…"


How to Make Authentic Turkish Delight

Severus was more than a little confused when, after searching every room in the dungeons for Miss Granger, he only found a scribbled note that read: come to the kitchen. Frowning, he made his way to the concealed entrance, pondering on all of the different things it might be. He knew, of course, that it was something to do with cooking, but the question was what she would be making. She had never before referred to any particular culinary talent, so he could only hope that she was not going to poison him with some unusual concoction.

When he stepped into the kitchen, the first thing he saw was a House Elf, who looked positively furious and was standing in his way. Snape did not recognise the elf, so he simply stared at it.

"Professor Snape, sir, we is all very angry! The apprentice is cooking sir and she is not letting the House Elves cook for her! She is saying that she must cook and we is to leave her alone! Is you here to stop her sir?" Snape gave a small sigh.

"Could you direct me to her, please, elf?"

"Of course, sir. I is taking you to her right away, sir." The elf started walking deeper into the kitchen, and Snape followed it. Several rather large pairs of eyes followed him unblinkingly, looking relieved that he was there to solve the problem. He wasn't certain how they would react when he did not do a thing to stop his wayward apprentice.

Hermione had her back to him as he approached. She was wearing shorts and a t-shirt again – he still disapproved, but supposed they were ideal for keeping cool in the terrible heat of the kitchen – and was humming a song he didn't recognise. The elf that he stood next to cleared its throat, and his apprentice spun round. She grinned at Snape, before nodding at the elf.

"Thank you for bringing Professor Snape to me, Drippy."

"You is not welcome!" The elf snapped back, before fleeing away rather quickly. Hermione motioned for Snape to sit down on a stool that stood by the counter she was working on. He did, giving him the ideal opportunity to see what it was she had made. At that current moment, she was slicing what looked like a large block of chocolate into cubes.

"According to this book," she said, licking a stray bit of chocolate that had attached itself to her finger, "Turkish Delight is the result of 'a delicious alchemy'. I rather liked that little passage when I read it, don't you?"

"You've made Turkish Delight. That's my – "

"Favourite, yes…I know. You told me a few months ago, and when I saw the recipe in this book…" She smiled at him a little shyly, "I couldn't resist." Inexplicably, Snape suddenly felt remarkably strange. No one had ever done anything for him like that before, at least without asking for something in return. As Hermione placed a small cube onto a plate and passed it to him, he tried to swallow the lump that had lodged itself awkwardly into his throat. She watched expectantly, as he put the delicacy into his mouth. Snape could not resist the urge to smile at its taste. It was wonderful. Hermione seemed to be a little on edge as she watched him finish.

"Very well made, Miss Granger." Her grin widened.

"Thank you very much, Severus! I'm glad you enjoy it, because there is rather a lot here…You shall have to eat it for breakfast, lunch and dinner!"

"I'm certain Minerva would appreciate some. And…" He licked his lips. "I of course would like some for myself."

Just at that moment, a group of ten House Elves approached them. The leader, who according to Hermione was named Drippy, stepped forwards and tapped her very angrily on the shoulder.

"You is leaving now. Both of you. We is only allowing Professor Snape in here because we is thinking he would shout. As he is not, we is asking you to leave." Hermione's eyes widened and she looked at Snape, who was equally as shocked.

"But…"

"Take your things and leave. We is not wanting you cooking in here again!" Hermione picked up the tray, before she and Snape left the kitchen, chased all the way by the very angry herd of House Elves.


Author's Note: Thanks to those that read and reviewed the last chapter - it certainly is an encouragement. This chapter, in fact, this entire fic is riddled with clichés from SS/HG fics, but also from wider popular culture. I don't particularly care, because I intended it that way - after all, clichés they may be, but no less entertaining! Anyway. Please read and review etc. etc.