Title: Harry Potter and the Summer From Hell

Author: Ladye Black

Warnings: Americanisms, glaringly obvious ones I'm sure, and they're throughout the fic, I've just forgotten to warn everyone until now.

Notes: I don't do this often enough but, I'd like to thank everyone for your reviews. They really help me write because when I know someone is reading this fic, it helps me not to be so lazy. : )

Part 7

The interior of their new home reflected the exterior almost perfectly. The floors were made of wood, most likely oak, and the walls were white-washed. An old farmhouse, to be sure.

Directly ahead of them was a set of stairs leading to the upper level of the house, to the right of them was a living space, complete with a TV and furniture. At their left was the kitchen, which Severus inspected with approval. As old as this house seemed, it had been outfitted with more-or-less modern facilities. Although, he had no idea what use they had for one those Muggle 'Tee-Vee' things.

Harry was slightly grateful that, so far, the Professor had forborne to comment negatively on anything he had, in fact, forborne to comment on anything at all. There had been that one tense moment while the man had glared at the television set, though.

There was a bathroom downstairs, past the kitchen, as well as one at the top of the stairs, both complete with a toilet and shower. Well, at least there won't be any fighting over who gets the bathroom first, thought Harry with relief. And, I'll be less likely to catch him in the nude. He didn't want to think about why that particular thought was tinged with disappointment instead of disgust.

They chose their rooms, Snape to the right of the staircase, and Harry to the left.

The room Snape had chosen had the color blue as its main focus. Light blue walls, dark blue carpet, and all shades in between with some white for contrast. All-in-all, the room had a very peaceful atmosphere.

Harry's room wasn't much different, except that the color of choice was cherry stained wood. A very nice chest of drawers stood against the same wall that the door was on, and a double-sized bed was covered in a prettily designed tan bedspread; the carpeting was thick and soft.

Exploring the house done, they congregated into the kitchen to discuss one another's duties. Sitting down with tea in hand, they began their discussion.

"So…" Harry began. Snape raised an eyebrow. "Where should we start?"

Snape took a moment to consider. "Well, we already chose our rooms without a fuss…how about…cooking?" he suggested, making a small hand gesture to encompass the room they were sitting in.

Harry nodded in agreement. "Alright, do you know how?"

"As far as I'm concerned, it's not that much different than brewing potions, but – to answer your question – yes, I can."

"Oh, well, perhaps we could take turns then?" Harry suggested. "My aunt made me cook for them all the time, although, most of it was simple stuff…not like what Hogwarts makes."

Snape gave a small snort of amusement. "Contrary to popular belief, Mr. Potter, I was not raised on Hogwarts fair either." For some reason, Harry felt slightly elated; Snape had just given him a small piece of his past. "I did, however, contrive to learn some of the more difficult cooking techniques."

"Why?"

"For one who thrives on challenges, that person can get exceedingly bored without one," the older man explained. "Actually, I was testing the limits of my ability and found that they were bigger than I had first thought. I also came into the realization that I enjoyed it in much the same fashion that I do with Potions, the concepts are closely related."

Harry thought about it for a moment, "I guess I can see what you mean." Snape waited for the boy to elaborate. "I suppose Potions and cooking are similar because you put certain ingredients in at certain times and cook different recipes in different ways, like Potions."

Snape gave a small nod. "That is correct, Mr. Potter." Harry smiled in relief. "There is more to it, but," Harry felt his relief start to drain away, "…you are, essentially, correct."

"So, we take turns cooking?"

"And the one who doesn't cook does the dishes. Agreed?"

"Agreed."

Later that night, Harry would marvel at how well the conversation had gone. He was so surprised and relieved that he never noticed the insistent tugging on the link that connected him to Snape.

TBC…

So…what'd ya think? I know short again, right? Sorry, one of these days I'll get to a good length, I promise. Right now, I'm building.