CHAPTER 16

A/N: Thank you for your reviews, you wonderful readers!

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The opening of the Duelling Club was accomplished amidst much excitement on the part of the students and trepidation on the part of the Harry and Snape. The teachers had their separate classrooms. They were, naturally, relieved about this. Teaching together would have probably resulted in creating conflicts instead of solving them. On the other hand, maybe they would have worked well enough together; because, after teaching a horde of eager students who wrecked half the classroom and incinerated each other's robes for the very first time, Snape approached Harry. The former was looking extremely indignant and the latter was surrounded by the penetrating smell of burnt cloth. Snape came straight to the point although he did wrinkle his nose at the odour:

"I left rather abruptly that day in the bar, Potter. I suggest that we continue discussing the Club in Enchantments, for a change. The drinks are on me. And, Potter, please stop staring at me like that. I have not sprouted a second head."

Harry flushed and laughed a little.

"Well…Uh…Yeah, great, I'd like that, Severus. Thank you."

"How articulate," Snape murmured.

Harry grinned. It was Snape's way of apologising to Harry and trying to show that it was not an apology. Obviously, Snape was not at all used to apologising to people.

"Oh, by the way, thanks for your note. I like your suggestion."

"It was meant to be a joke, Potter. Do you really think I would want those brats to think of a sunflower instead of a Duelling Club?"

"What an overwhelming sense of humour you have, Severus. So when shall we meet up do discuss the further development of the Club and to exchange feedback?"

"Saturday evening at eight o'clock sharp, Potter. At the gates. Don't be late."

He nodded curtly and strode away.

In the meantime, Hermione was travelling around in Switzerland: her Ministry work required her to visit the headquarters in Basle with the aim of negotiating contracts with a group of no-nonsense Swiss wizards. The Wizarding community in Basle was tiny and bore the local name of "Rhyhäxerei" – Swiss German for "Rhine Wizardry". The national Ministry itself was officially called "Amt für Zauberei" – High German for "Ministry of Magic", and had equivalent translations in the other national languages. Hermione sent Harry a long note about her activities in Switzerland and a small parcel with two tired screech owls. The parcel contained a recipe for cheese fondue, a box of what were called "Basler Leckerli" – Basle Cookies consisting of cinnamon, honey, sugar and other nice spices, among other things. Hermione had also included a cuckoo clock. According to her, cuckoo clocks were very expensive, but she had received two clocks for free, so she was sending him one. Harry, delighted, decided to attach the clock to the wall later. As for the fondue: he would try concocting one as an experiment one of these days. Hermione sternly reminded him not to delegate this task to the already overworked house-elves in her letter. Harry was unsure whether he was keener on meeting Snape in Hogsmeade or on unleashing his rudimentary culinary skills. What he could definitely show off was the excellent state of his new ear piercing. On the evening of his meeting with Snape, he replaced his stud with the ring of white gold and checked himself critically in the mirror. He raised his hand to his hair and his mirror sighed.

"Dear, I have already told you that you should leave it alone."

"It's a habit," Harry said, running his hand through his hair anyway.

The wizards met at the Hogwarts gates.

Harry was not able to explain why he suddenly discovered his cheeks to be rather hot. It was dark, but he could feel Snape's keen eyes on him; and he was certain that the observant Slytherin had glanced at his earring as well.

"Not bad, Potter. Punctual."

Harry smiled at him.

"Shall we go?"

"Why else would we be out here, Potter? What an imbecile question."

Harry laughed, and Snape glared at him.

"I am starting to appreciate your sense of humour, Severus."

"About high time, Potter."

They left, wrapping their cloaks closely around them.

Up, from a high window in the castle, Dumbledore watched them with a small smile on his face.

Once at the bar, things seemed to start off rather badly. They had just entered Wizard's Blizzards when the auburn-haired wizard walked towards Snape and Harry. A spark of irritation leapt up in the region of Harry's chest. Irrititation verging on...No, it couldn't be jealousy, could it?

Snape stiffened.

"You!" he spat as if he had seen something very disgusting indeed.

"Yessir, me."

He turned to Harry.

"I'm Lucifer, by the way. Not my real name. Just assumed. I'm a devil when it comes to loving, you know. Oh yeah, honey."

He winked at Harry, who was not at all impressed.

"Guy can't make up his mind you know. First he's like, no way I'm going to have some fun with you with no strings attached, and then he goes, yeah, okay, no strings attached, and after that he reverses his decision. Ha!"

Harry looked at him coldly.

"This is a matter between you and my colleague, and you shouldn't be telling me this. It is in the worst possible taste, and humiliating."

"Oho."

Lucifer turned back to Snape and sang out, sticking his tongue in his cheek:

"Prude loser."

Snape became even paler with rage. Harry sensed that another fight would break out if he didn't intervene. He concentrated hard. Snape stared at the bright neon-yellow shade the wizard's hair had become and then looked at Harry, who nonchalantly touched Snape's arm and moved with him towards the bar. A few seconds later, a furious yell reached their ears.

"MY HAIR!"

Some of the guests began to laugh loudly and point. Snape actually smirked.

"Quite passable, Potter. Better than orange."

Harry laughed.

"Glad you like it, Severus. He deserves worse, though."

Snape looked at him curiously.

"How can you say?"

"He reminds of a, uh, a few people I can't stand."

"Draco Malfoy, by any chance, Potter?" Snape said shrewdly.

"Well, yeah. For example."

"Anyone else?"

"My cousin Dudley."

Snape's black eyes locked with Harry's. He had seen enough memories during the notorious Occlumency lessons to know who Dudley was.

"I am not surprised, Potter."

"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO MY HAIR, YOU FU-"

A couple of wizards, led by the barkeeper, grabbed Lucifer and dragged him out.

"Potter, you are contributing significantly to the loss of this bar's clientele."

"How come? We two are still around," Harry remarked.

This time, besides ordering Butterbeer, they also succumbed to a small mountain of delicious-looking titbits – bits of pastry stuffed with various kinds of meats, nuts and fruit.

Snape, whose appetite was ever small, ate little.

"Come on, Severus, you must eat more. They're so tasty."

"You're still a growing boy, Potter. I have finished that stage."

Harry was about to say that Snape looked too thin but remembered that he was sitting opposite a highly sensitive and insecure man.

"I guess you have a point," he agreed instead.

Snape raised an eyebrow.

"Weren't you about to say something along the lines of me being too thin?"

Harry looked at him, startled.

"Er…you're not performing Legilimency on me, are you?"

Snape actually laughed.

"No, Potter, I am not. But most people comment on my figure when I say that I don't eat much."

"I was about to do so myself, but I didn't think it would be very polite."

"I must admit that you are more honest as a teacher than you were as a student. And infinitely more polite, Potter. Manners were never a very strong point of yours."

"Well, Severus, I somehow had to get through your classes as a student," Harry responded cheekily.

"Have you still got that blasted map of Hogwarts?" Snape asked with a glint in his eyes.

"Yeah. Would you like to borrow it?" Inwardly, Harry smacked himself a hundred times. Are you crazy, Harry? What on earth do you think you're doing?

"I'll accept your offer if I think it necessary to make use of it."

Halfway through their Butterbeers, Snape excused himself to go to the toilet.

Coming back, Snape paused behind an enormous dusty potted plant and studied the young man intensely. He was sipping at his Butterbeer with a pensive expression on his face; but the thoughtfulness was more of a happy nature than of a despondent one.

"What are you hiding behind me for? Go back and get into that young man's robes, you funk!" the plant snapped at him.

"No one calls me a funk – least of all a wretched plant!" Snape growled between clenched teeth. He drew out his wand and the plant burst into flames. He retreated hastily; a couple of people nearby stood up in shock and proceeded to extinguish the unhappy plant as quickly as possible. After that, if Snape happened to be in its proximity, it would curl up its leaves in pathetic terror and shudder violently.

The Potions Master returned to his table and sat down again opposite Harry.

"Someone has bewitched the toilet seats to do more than remind people to be clean," he observed.

Harry frowned.

"Why? What are they doing now?"

"They are making personal remarks about certain parts of the male anatomy."

Harry stared.

"Oh boy. Tonks is going to hit the ceiling. I had better tell her."

"I don't think there's any need for that, Potter. I passed a group of very offended wizards who were searching for her to, ah, notify her about the issue. Now, about the Duelling Club. I am intrigued to learn about your singed robes."

Harry did not fail to detect an undertone of glee in the last sentence. Snape was Snape, after all. He resignedly extracted a folder and proceeded to tell Snape about his first lesson. Snape took the opportunity to be tremendously critical and disapproving of Harry's teaching method.

"You should not pair up friends, Potter. In real Duelling situations, it is a rather rare occurrence for friends to start killing each other."

"Unless they've turned enemies."

"Don't be smart with me, Potter. You did not pair up enemies."

"No – not like you did years ago with Malfoy and me. Still, I've got to be grateful to you, Severus. I wouldn't have discovered my linguistic faculties without your help."

"I will send you a crate of cobras one day and see if you can charm them with your special Parseltongue abilities," Snape said cuttingly.

Harry hastily turned the conversation to safer grounds. He sensed that Snape, in spite of knowing bits concerning Harry's unhappy family life, was still fiercely jealous of him and bitter about his fame, all the while ignoring the fact that Harry did anything but revel in glory.

Their meeting ended peacefully enough, and Harry did not forget to thank Snape for the Butterbeer and titbits when they parted in the castle. Snape responded with a derisive snort and glided away.

If Harry had turned around, he would have noticed Snape throwing a last glance at him over his shoulder.

On Sunday afternoon, Harry decided to try out Hermione's cheese fondue recipe. His rooms, chic as they were, did not lack a kitchenette, and Harry had ordered the necessary ingredients from Hogsmeade. Midway through the recipe, he came to the discouraging conclusion that the recipe was not for beginners. He had just added more alcohol to the frankly alarming mixture in the pot when there was a loud knock on his door. Harry lowered the heat with his wand and jogged to the door.

"Who is it?" he shouted.

"Severus Snape. Do you really think that bull's eye in your door is for decoration, Potter?"

Flustered and overwhelmed, Harry opened the door.

"I thought you preferred Floo powder."

"I felt magnanimous enough to not dirty your carpet with ash, and to adapt to your own humble mode of seeking my rooms."

"Er, please come in. So, uh, what's up? Any news about Bellatrix and the escaped Death Eaters?"

Snape sneered at his clumsy greeting and whisked inside. Harry cursed himself as he blushed and found himself checking out Snape's hair approvingly.

"This has nothing to do with any Death Eaters. I came here to…Potter, what on earth is that repulsive reek?"

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