A/N:
Tri Mriel: "Basle" is the English spelling of "Basel"...and yes, I know that those sweets are called "Leckerli"...or "Läckerli" or "Läggerli"...but not everyone can know that, can they? ;-) Hence "Basle Cookies".

xxx

CHAPTER 17

Snape was staring at Harry, waiting for an answer.

"I'm trying to make cheese fondue," Harry said, feeling angry with Snape as well as mortified. To make matters even more uncomfortable, Snape had caught him wearing a T-shirt which he usually didn't display to the public. The T-shirt read: I AM FEELING GAY TODAY.

Snape showed no sign that he had seen this interesting statement. He stroked the corner of his mouth with a critical finger.

"Why didn't you ask the house elves to prepare this intriguing dish?"

"Hermione told me that I should try making it myself and that it would be unfair to give the elves more work than they already have, and she has a point. So I thought...Yeah."

He gestured towards the kitchen.

To Harry's horror, Snape glided past him wordlessly into the kitchenette, where he heard him gagging. Harry followed him inside and found the ill-tempered man pinching his hooked nose closed.

"Potter, that dish smells of old socks, and it doesn't even look good," Snape said crushingly.

"Oh." Harry looked rather crestfallen, "well, I realised that I was doing a few things wrong."

"A few things? Your abysmal Potions-brewing abilities are no mystery to me any longer after seeing your, ah, culinary skills."

"Well, how about if you made the fondue?" Harry snapped.

"Potter, I have Potions to brew, not cheese fondues. This noxious mixture could have felled the Dark Lord without question."

"Thanks for the compliment," Harry retorted sarcastically, trying to imagine Voldemort retching into a cauldron filled with a badly prepared cheese fondue.

Their discourse was interrupted by the new cuckoo clock striking five o'clock. Harry had stuck it to the kitchen wall. Snape glared as the bird shot in and out of the bird-hole. He took out his wand, and, with a murmured spell, caused the bird to fall off the end of the spring which propelled it forwards and backwards.

"Hey! Hermione gave that to me! Why would you want to Duel against a perfectly harmless clock?" Harry exclaimed crossly.

"I have never seen such a ridiculous object before."

"Look, these are my rooms, not yours! You can't just go destroying other people's things just because you don't like them, one would think the whole castle belonged to you. Reparo!"

The bird flew back onto the spring and the clock fell silent.

Snape smirked.

"It's a genuinely Swiss-made handicraft-"

"Potter, that stuff is meant for tourists."

"Well, Hermione is a tourist in Switzerland at the moment. She sent me this as well, and you can't deny its usefulness, even though it is not a magical object!"

Harry held up a Swiss army knife. He had been about to dispose of the parcel when the owl had nipped him sharply on the wrist, directing his attention to a small wrapped object he had overseen, and which was covered by tissue paper.

"You won't be able to break into my rooms or office with that thing, Potter. My rooms are warded. Contrary to yours."

"You're paranoid."

"You're sloppy."

"I'm not!"

"You are. What a lot of defense measures you're taking. I am overwhelmed."

The two men glared at each other. Then Harry said with a sigh:

"You're impossible, Severus. How about eating the Basle Cookies Hermione sent me? They're said to be delicious."

"I must admit that I have never tasted those sweets before," Snape confessed, Vanishing the fondue in Harry's cooking pot.

"You're a lot like Hermione. You're so bossy."

Snape snorted and leant against the counter while Harry summoned the box of cookies to him and removed the lid and plastic wrapping with a flick of his wand. The sweets were rectangular, freckled with grey and dark-brown on the surface. They looked delectable. Harry held one out to Snape and discovered a shiver running down his back when the long fingers touched his.

He distracted himself by helping himself to a cookie and biting into it. If he thought that Hagrid's rock cakes were hard, then he was mistaken. Snape's thoughts obviously ran along the same lines.

"Potter, did Miss Granger send a hammer along with these toffees?"

Harry went very red.

"Er, she didn't tell me that they were so hard."

Snape picked up the leaflet which contained an English translation of some of the ingredients.

"Honey, sugar, cinnamon?" Snape snorted. "Those people don't know how to brew the correct mixture properly."

"Severus, maybe you could open a sweet shop, specialising in Swiss goodies."

"Don't be a fool, Potter."

"I was joking, Severus."

"Imbecile sense of humour," Snape growled acidly.

Harry cleared his throat.

"I was about to make some tea. I'll make you a cup, and we can dip the cookies in the tea. Because they do taste very good, it's just the consistency."

He could have sworn that Snape's mouth quirked a little.

"Now, Potter, that is rather barbaric."

"It isn't. It's simply a solution."

"Well, for the sake of my teeth…"

Harry bustled about, getting the tea ready. Snape, naturally, did not do the polite thing and sit near the fireplace. Instead, he idly watched Harry hurry around nervously.

Harry looked at him and Snape looked back, his lip curling.

At last, the tea was ready and Harry, endeavouring to be the elegant host, led Snape out of the kitchen, saucers, cups, spoons, plates, serviettes and cookies on a silver tray.

Harry set down the tray and wanted to go back to the kitchen to fetch some sugar; but he walked into Snape instead.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I forgot the sugar," he muttered.

Snape didn't reply and instead gave Harry an intense stare which rooted Harry to the spot.

They gazed at each other, Harry becoming increasingly flushed, Snape in perfect control of the whole situation. He bent his head a little, since he was a lot taller than Harry. Harry looked up at him. His whole body felt hot, and unknown desires began to stir in him. Snape's face was very close. His lips nearly brushed Harry's as he slowly approached them to Harry's ear – the one with the earring – and breathed:

"Well, what about that sugar, Potter?"

Harry jumped.

"I…Uh…I'm…getting it," he stammered, sprinting into the kitchen. Snape watched him with a faint smile on his lips.

In the kitchenette, Harry fought for his composure. His body was reacting in a variety of ways which were causing him a lot of embarrassment and which made him wish he had worn robes after all. He tugged at his jeans and bit down a moan as it only increased the friction. With unsteady hands, he opened one of the cupboards and took out the sugar bowl.

He rushed back and found Snape occupying the sofa, his long legs stretched and one arm resting on top of the back. His dusky hair shone in the firelight.

Harry thought he looked sensual. Erotic. He swallowed and added the bowl to the tray. He poured the tea and levitated the cookie plate to Snape.

Snape took a cookie silently and dipped it into his tea. Harry grinned.

"I agree that it is not a bad solution, even thought it lacks deplorably in social sophistication," Snape remarked dryly, chewing his sweet.

"So…Uh…What can I do to help you, Severus?"

"Actually, I came here to help you, Potter."

"Oh? Erm, well, that's nice of you. Thank you."

"Obviously, you are extremely young to teach Duelling classes, regardless of your experience. I mentioned this to the Headmaster. He has suggested that I teach you how to teach. I agreed, insufferable though you may be, Potter."

"You agreed after all those Occlumency lessons?" Harry laughed.

"Yes, Potter. You were not too moronic when we had to work against the Dark Lord."

"Voldemort. Now that he's dead-"

"Don't say the name, Potter!" Snape snarled.

"Why not? And why are you, of all people, afraid to say it?"

"Of all people?"

"You're brave!"

"Then how come I am not in Gryffindor, Potter?"

Harry leant back.

"Did Dumbledore ever tell you that the Hat wanted to put me in your House?"

Snape nodded slightly.

"You see, our Houses don't make us what we are. Wasn't Pettigrew a Gryffindor?"

Snape studied him for a few moments.

"That was worthy of Miss Granger's logic, Potter," he remarked.

Harry blushed incredulously. Praise from Snape! He enthusiastically took a Basle Cookie and dipped it in his tea. Snape suddenly rose.

"Please be so kind as to dispose of that infernal cookie and come over here."

Harry obeyed, wondering what Snape was going to submit him to.

"Now, when you taught your students how to Duel, where were you?"

"In the classroom with them, of course."

"Were you in the middle of the room? In the corner? Where exactly?" Snape barked impatiently.

"In the corner, most of the time, that way there was room for the students. And I would go from group to group now and then."

"No! You must not stand in the corner watching! It is important that you move among the students, but that is not sufficient. Here, let me show you…dense teenager…"

He placed his hand on the small of Harry's back and propelled him towards the middle of the room.

"You have to be in the centre, the students around you. That way, everyone can see you. Do you think your brain cells can absorb this absurdly simple piece of information, Potter?"

Harry's green eyes flashed as he glowered at Snape.

"Good. And please do us all a favour by reading this book."

He extracted a thin volume from underneath his robes.

"I sacrificed some of my precious time to write down the following guidelines for you. I will be present during your next lesson to see how you manage…or do not manage. I suppose it is an advantage that our lessons do not take place simultaneously all the time."

"Thanks," Harry said coolly. Snape sent the book to sit on one of Harry's bookshelves.

"Another thing, Potter, before I leave your messy quarters."

He approached Harry and stretched out a tapering index finger, stroking the earring gently. Harry's heart was pounding. The finger travelled languidly over his earlobe and down his neck until it reached the collar of his T-shirt.

"Make sure that that earring does not catch anywhere, Potter," Snape whispered.

It was happening again, that tension, the desire to…Then Snape let out a low laugh, gave Harry a contemptuous glance and walked away, flipping his hair over his shoulder. A few strands brushed Harry's cheek and ear.

"Good night, Potter."

The door closed before Harry could answer. The young man shook his head slowly and sat down on the carpet.

"Oh my God. I can't believe it…I just can't…" His voice trailed away, but his mind continued. I can't believe I'm starting to find Severus Snape sexually attractive...