Disclaimer: I do not own this, I only own a Harry Plushie which I named Snarry but that is it.

Summary: Hopefully you know this already, unless you have decided to be special and skip chapter one.

"Snape…Snape…Severus Snape?!" (Editor's note: you will only get this joke if you have watched "The Mysterious Ticking Noise" Potter Puppet Pals YouTube video – I advise you to do it is very funny.)

Harry felt his stomach boil with rage, partly because Snape was still sitting up the slope splitting his sides at Harry's fall, but mainly because he had found the man convicted of murder, but whom everyone had presumed dead after he had killed Dumbledore.

And why the hell out of all places had he turned up in a Muggle ski resort?

Harry stuck his face in the snow, puzzling.

Snape's laughter was now dying to a very pig like snort and after a couple of very unattractive splutters Harry heard the man get up and the snow crunch as he glided over it.

There was a sudden crunch as the gliding stopped right beside Harry,

"Are you going to get up? Or will I have to call a copter?" asked the unmistakable sarcastic smarm of Snape (Try saying that one ten times faster).

He doesn't know it's me, thought Harry. Then he realised he was wearing a pink bobble hat decorated with white snowmen and snowflakes (also courtesy of Hermione).

The snow crunched once more and firm hands grasped him (maybe a little too forcefully) and shook Harry's shoulders.

"Are you alright, Madam?"

Harry flared, he may have been wearing a pink bobble hat but being mistaken for a woman…?!

He let out a sound which sounded a bit like a sleeping lion which had been poked in the eye.

He tried to jump to his feet.

Note the word "tried."

Due to the unnecessary largeness (well, they were in Harry's opinion) of his skis, he got up and promptly toppled over backwards.

This time down the slope.

For those who have been skiing you will know that falling backwards down the slope is extremely painful, due to the fact you don't have the regular 90 degrees to fall, you usually have at least an extra 20.

He was completely winded, and the few seconds of incapacitation on his part gave Snape sufficient time to conclude that Harry (or the woman) was not going to die, and he snowboarded off at high speed, leaning impressively into the corners.

Harry watched him go, and then wondered why he hadn't reprimanded the man. He would just have to hope that he saw him again.

Harry then embarked on his version of Mission Impossible – getting up and making his way to the bottom alive.

OoOoOoOoOoOo

About an hour later (okay, Harry admitted, maybe a bit longer)

he was a few metres from the bottom. He had never been so happy in all his 18 years to see solid, flat ground.

The snow he had acquired from his numerous falls had begun to melt and he could feel the residue dripping down his back.

He side-stepped the rest of the way down, and then began to wonder how the hell he was supposed to get his skis off.

He tried shaking his foot.

Nothing happened.

He put one ski on the other and tried to wrench his foot out the ski.

Nothing happened, except he heard his ankle crack in a very unpleasant way.

He tried various other ways to part with his skis, but to no avail. In the end he shouted at them, and tried to kick them, but only succeeded in almost falling over again. Harry looked around to check no one had spotted his blunder.

Thank Squid everyone seemed to be minding their own business.

He let out a sigh of relief. He then heard a muffled giggle and someone behind him tapped him on the shoulder.

(A/N the scary thing is my editor actually talks like this)

"I've seen beginners try to take off their skis in numerous ways, but I have never seen someone converse with them. What an unusual way to take off one's skis, you'll be attempting to magic them next!"

Harry then realised that that would have been quite a good idea.

He turned around to see Hermione. For a second he thought the magical one had been following him all this time, but then he saw the glasses and realised it was the Muggle one, but they did look worryingly similar.

"Aren't you supposed to be working?" asked Harry, trying, and failing, to cover up the fact that he did not appreciate being laughed at.

"Sorry," said Hermione, ironing out her features, "I saw you having an argument with your skis, and wondered if you want to come over for a drink?"

"Cool," said Harry, "My place or yours?"

"Well… I was thinking the café, but come back to our place. I would love to show you round,"

And with that she lifted up her foot and stamped on Harry's skis. Harry was just wondering what in Squid's name she was doing, when he felt his heels pushed free of the skis.

Hermione sighed and showed him the correct way to pack away, take off and carry skis. (A/N Hermione has obviously had a lot of practice since when I last saw her, watching her pack away skis is like watching a comedy slapstick show.)

Hermione threw Harry's skis over her shoulder (no, not literally, I mean she put his skis on her shoulder) and carried them off for him.

Harry meekly followed in her wake.

OoOoOoO

"My roommate might be in," stated Hermione, taking out a set of keys and fiddling with them until she produced a silver key which had been painted violet but obviously badly chipped.

Hermione pushed open the door and strode inside, "Come in," she encouraged, beckoning to Harry.

"Who have you brought home?" said a disembodied voice.

"The fool from next door," Hermione shouted at the living room.

Harry resented being called a fool and shot Hermione a death glare.

She had the decency to look uncomfortable. "It's what we called you before we found out your real name…Drink?" she suddenly said, smiling inanely, and walked out of Harry's view around the corner.

"We have water, milk…"

"Tequila, beer…"

"Juice, smoothie, coke…"

"Malibu, wine, Irish cream…" came the voice of the other girl, once again overriding Hermione.

"Stop trying to get our guests drunk! This guy will not sleep with you!"

"I know he won't – he is gay!"

"Will you stop accusing everyone of being gay?"

"I do not!"

Harry stood in the doorway rooted to the spot by the oddness and awkwardness of this conversation.

"Yes, you do," continued Hermione," If not then remind me, why did your last boy friend leave?"

"Because he actually was gay, he is now living in C Block with another man!"

Hermione was silent.

But only for a moment.

"Then what about MY ex-boyfriend, who left me for a WOMAN because he couldn't stand having his sexuality questioned every time he came within five metres of you!"

"He was in denial! And his new girl friend looks like a man anyway!"

Hermione was once again silent.

"That doesn't mean you can just accuse strangers of being gay,"

"But he is! Come in by the way,"

Harry cautiously entered as Hermione shot a hot retort at the other girl.

The apartment he was not pleased to see was bigger than his, but he was pleased to note that it was still quite small.

Hermione was standing by the sink brandishing a smoothie carton threateningly at the other girl who seemed to be taking the argument as a joke and rolling around the sofa laughing, wearing only a bra and jeans.

"…and put some clothes on you're scaring him!"

Him has a name, thought Harry.

"It doesn't matter, he is gay anyway" stated the other girl, getting up and walking over to Harry, grinning at him.

Hermione was just about to retort when Harry, ears wringing from the shrill pitch of the argument, interrupted…

"I'M GAY, OKAY?"

The girl in front of him smiled at him, almost blinding him with her whites.

"Want some tea, Harry?" asked Hermione, through her teeth.

OoOoOoO

"I have to go, I have a lesson to take," the door slammed.

"I had better go too, I have a lesson to be at," Harry explained and stood up.

"Drop by later, yeah?" asked Hermione, having dropped her sour mood.

"Yeahiwillthanksforthedrinkandiwillseeyoulaterbye." said Harry so fast it was almost incoherent. Hermione gave him a puzzled and lonely look, but Harry didn't care. He ran out of the apartment and slammed the door behind him.

He sprinted out of the block of apartments, fell down the killer steps, got up and carried on to sprinting.

Had he really seen Snape out of the window?

He almost flew around the last corner, and saw that he had been right. There was Severus Snape climbing up a long stretch of stairs, carrying his board.

"Snape! Snape!" the man didn't turn round.

Harry would have run up the stairs after him, had the altitude not been depriving him of oxygen.

But before he could shout for Snape again the other man had turned the corner and disappeared form view.

I will be updating ASAP this is just a little note to say that I know this chapter is short compared to the other one, but if I went for 5,000 words per chapter I would never post anything.

Anyway review please (Puppy dog eyes) at the moment I am on more alert lists than I have reviews and remember the more reviews the faster I update! (No, that was not a threat – merely an incentive)

Also I do know what has to be on your job CV to work at ESF, but I bend and twist it to suit my own needs for this story, I am not going to stick to reality all the time.

Much thanks to Hermione for editing!