Harry had grown so accustomed to his days at the Granger's, and especially his morning routine with Snape, he forgot that it would all come to an end eventually. He hardly remembered that there was a whole other world, waiting for them to return to it. He hardly remembered that they had ever been anything else to each other. Until one day, he did.

"How are Miss Granger's cooking lessons going?" Snape asked suddenly.

Harry was so surprised that he almost choked on his coffee. He looked at the man slyly. "You were listening." He accused, thinking of when he'd first mentioned the lessons, back before their companionable mornings over coffee had begun. That seemed a lifetime ago, with the end of summer fast approaching at only two weeks away.

Snape turned slightly on the bench with his arm over the back, the picture of nonchalance. "Obviously, but that doesn't answer the question."

Harry smiled and turned slightly as well. "They're going okay. She's a quick study, as you know. The only problem seems to be keeping her focused. The marvel of the egg-timer has saved our bacon more than once, figuratively and literally. I feel like it'd be easier if I could press the importance of cooking. Schoolwork is important for success, reading everything in sight is important for helping in schoolwork…and keeping us alive in some cases. I just have to find something that impresses on her how necessary cooking is. It's not that she doesn't have the imagination, she just doesn't seem to want to apply it. And Merlin forbid if I try to do anything not in the recipe."

"I see," Snape murmured quietly. "Have you tried explaining that she'll have to cook for herself after she leaves home?" Snape asked, drinking his coffee.

Harry nodded. "Yup, but she then spent a half hour patiently explaining that there were spells that could do the cooking for her."

"I see," Snape repeated. He was silent for a long moment, and then, "Make her use her wandless magic to create. There's nothing to be done about her obsession with the recipe except to stop her looking at it altogether, but using the magic she seems so eager to rely on will either teach her the value in cooking without magic, or force her to improve her wandless spells."

"That's brilliant," Harry said, grinning. "I'd never have thought of that, or even stopping her looking at the recipe."

Snape shrugged and they turned as one to watch the path and park again.

After a long moment, Snape spoke. "I return to the school tomorrow."

Harry frowned at the sense of hesitancy in the statement. "Really?" He asked.

Snape gave a stiff nod, straightening. "Yes. I will not return here until next summer."

Harry suddenly understood that this was meant to be a stiff, uncomfortable goodbye. He stood, tossing his half-finished coffee. He loathed goodbyes, and this was no exception. Especially since he'd thought he had another week, at least, to sit with the taciturn man in affable relief. The Gryffindor stuffed his hands into his pockets.

"I guess I'll see you at the school, then." He walked off before anymore could be said.

His walks with Snape were over. Harry was unclear about the feeling that clenched at his heart. Why should he care about missing out on his morning jog and coffee with his least liked professor? It was, after all, such a small thing.

-Break-

Harry was doing hanging sit-ups on the low bar when it happened. He hadn't seen Snape again for five days, though he looked for him every morning out of habit. On the down swing, he saw him. Black eyes stared at him across the vast expanse of lawn. Snape was on the other side of the path, leaning almost nonchalantly against a tree. He was simply watching him, that coal gaze translating across the distance even though Harry couldn't really see his eyes.

Harry pulled back up and grabbed the bar, sliding his legs easily over it and dropping to the grass. He picked his shirt up off the ground, but when he turned to find Snape again, he was gone. Harry immediately began to question his own sanity. Snape was at Hogwarts, and he had no reason to be back at the park. He especially wasn't going to come just to watch his least-liked student workout in the summer sun. Shaking his head, Harry returned to his workout. The nagging feeling that he was being watched persisted, and he kept a weather eye for the Potions Master. He didn't see him again, and when he went back to Hermione's, he decided he had indeed lost his mind, if only temporarily.