Monday morning came, and Harry was surprised to find the twins still around, sipping tea and talking quietly with Snape when Harry stumbled down to breakfast. They turned and grinned at him, and he sat between them with a little blush at the memories that always seemed to haunt him now, of everything that had passed between them. "So," he asked, snagging a mug of tea and some toast, "why aren't you off selling naughty candy to little children?"

"We decided to skive off," said George, popping a bite of scone into his mouth fairly dripping with jam and Devon cream.

"We're going to be Snape's Little Helpers allll day," said Fred, stealing a bit of the scone from George's plate.

Harry giggled and sipped his tea. "It takes three teachers just to get things into my thick skull, eh, professor?"

Snape raised one eyebrow and declined to comment, which Harry thought was probably for the best at this hour. He served himself from the various platters in front of them, amazed at the sheer quantity of food the elves had prepared. "Are we going to have three elves all summer?" Harry asked dubiously.

"I believe so, yes," said Snape with a little smirk. "I expect they feel they should compensate for your usual meagre summer fare."

Harry dug in, while the twins exchanged smirks. "Getting a lot of your hungers taken care of this summer," Fred teased, giving Harry's side a little poke.

George poked his other side, "Not that we mind helping out, quite the opposite."

"And you'll never let me forget it," said Snape, rolling his eyes. "I believe we're all having a banner year for such things." He was eating sparely all the same, some toast and jam and a few slices of bacon going well with his contemplative look.

When they sniggered, Snape shot them all a look which quelled them enough to eat in silence for a bit. Finally Snape put the last bite of bacon into his mouth and drained his tea. "I believe there will be time for you two to check for any unexpected marking before his lesson," he said, giving the twins a significant look that, while it didn't escape Harry, didn't mean anything to him either.

"Excellent," said George, and began wolfing down the rest of his meal.

Fred leered and added, "We promise to bring him to Defence in one piece."

"Mostly, anyway," George clarified between bites.

Somehow, Harry wasn't quite so worried as he might have been. Instead he finished his own food at a pace honed through years of knowing that if he didn't eat what was on his plate quickly enough, it would disappear down Dudley's bottomless maw. "We'll be on time," said Harry, though with his mouth full it was more like, "Woobie ah tie."

"I will assume that was some sort of assurance for my benefit," said Snape with a warm sort of mocking distaste, so different from the usual coldness that it gave Harry a little shiver. "Don't be late, or it will throw off our entire day."

"Yessir," said Harry, swallowing before he spoke this time.

The twins also nodded dramatically, red hair bouncing absurdly and identical impish grins on their faces. Snape swirled off without another word, taking his not-quite-scowl with him.

"Is it just me," said Harry, after a long draught of his tea, "or is he less grumpy today?"

The twins exchanged oblique looks and said in unison, "He's less grumpy."

Harry's eyes went round as he realized the implication of that. "Oh," he said, then giggled. "Well, I'm glad you're taking good care of him, even if I am a bit jealous."

"Don't be jealous, Harry," said George, scooting up until he was practically in Harry's lap.

Fred scooted close on the other side and said, "He thinks of you all the time."

"Last night," George whispered, hand on Harry's thigh and mouth close enough to feel the hot breath on his ear, "he gave us a little lesson."

"And tonight, you're going to find out some of the things he wants to do to you," whispered Fred, before nibbling on Harry's ear.

Harry moaned, all thoughts of food gone as their hands began to roam over his body, waking up his nerves in the most stimulating way. He waited until they began to undress him before protesting, though the last thing he wanted to do was keep those big, warm hands from going anywhere they wanted. "I-isn't... get caught!" Harry gasped, using the very last of his self-control.

"He knows what we're up to, Harry," said Fred, sliding his hands down into Harry's trousers.

George lifted Harry's shirt off his unresisting body and added, "He told us to, remember?"

"We've got to check thoroughly," said Fred, and they both urged him standing and got his trousers down around his ankles, trapping his feet. Dishes were shoved aside and he was bent over the scarred wooden table as the last of his resistance melted away. He'd fantasized about this at every meal since moving in, though usually Snape had been the one bending him over like this in his daydreams.

George knelt behind him and nipped at one cheek, then kissed the other softly as if to apologize. "Smooth and creamy white," he reported, before diving between to kiss and lick far too fleetingly at Harry's entrance.

"Not a mark on him," said Fred, his tongue wending a path down his spine only to meet George's mouth at his tailbone and kiss, both their cheeks resting against Harry's heated flesh.

"God, need you, please," Harry begged, already lost to the fantasy of it, the feel of their cheeks brushing and jaws moving as the kissed over the feast of his arse.

"D'you think there's time?" Fred teased, breaking the kiss.

George nuzzled his way around, burying his face in the lush thatch of Harry's curls. "He'll be quick, I can tell."

Fred's answer was to drop to his knees as well and bury his face where George's had just been, lapping at Harry's greedy little opening while George sucked for a far-too-brief moment on Harry's balls. George's mouth travelled up Harry's cock slowly, kissing its way along the winding vein until it could suckle and lap at the head; Fred's hands came up to spread Harry's cheeks wide and his tongue dived deep into Harry's body. Harry's legs were trapped he couldn't spread them any wider, and he made a small noise of frustration before allowing himself to relax into pliancy, held up by the table and their persistent mouths.

"Come anytime you like, love," said Fred, nibbling teasingly at Harry's entrance.

George pulled away long enough to say, "We're in a hurry, after all," before taking Harry's length into his mouth and sucking hard.

It didn't take much, not at Harry's age and with the two of them working their wicked wiles on him, each mouth as knowing as the other as they plundered his body. He had no secrets left from them and they played him like an instrument, Fred's hands holding him so very open and George's finding and pinching his nipples just as hard as he wanted until the pain and pleasure overwhelmed him and he came with a whimpered little cry.

"That," he said, panting as they pulled away and began to restore him to order, "was way better than a cuppa."

They arrived at the Defence room very nearly on time, though Harry's shirt was buttoned askew and his hair was more mussed than usual. Snape turned to them and smirked with something like his old cruelty, though there was a spark underneath that Harry thought might be affection, or possibly the same jealousy that dogged his own days with Snape. "I believe there is time for you to properly dress yourself, Mr. Potter."

"Yes, Professor," said Harry, echoed in a singsong by the twins. He unbuttoned his shirt, eyes flickering to Snape just in time to see the flash of possessive lust on the man's face. He couldn't hold in a smile as he redid the buttons correctly this time, thinking that that expression would warm his memories, and his lonely bed, for many nights to come.

"Now," said Snape, straightening the cuffs of his own immaculate duelling robes, "I will perform only defensive spells while Messrs. Weasley attack me. I want you to sit there," he pointed imperiously with his wand at the rickety-looking chair off to one side, "with your own shields tightly up, and take notes of every spell that is cast. Any spells you don't know, you will learn. Understood?"

"Yes, sir," they all chorused, and Harry sat gratefully; his knees still hadn't quite re-solidified from the mind-blowing orgasm he'd had. He pulled out his notebook, quill and ink and set the ink bottle to floating at his side. "Should I use a specific shield spell, sir?" Harry asked, though he had a feeling he knew the answer.

"Use whatever will make you feel properly safe from miscast curses, of course," said Snape, his voice dripping with his usual classroom disdain.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Yes, Professor," he said, trapping his quill in his notebook and pulling his wand. Knowing he'd be mostly concentrating on writing everything down, he cast spells that wouldn't require concentration, including a mirror shield he was hoping wouldn't interfere too much with their combat. He opened his Defence journal and made a note of the date and exercise, then looked up at where the three of them had set themselves out in front of him. "I'm ready, sir."

"Excellent," said Snape. They all bowed, and the lesson began.

---

Defence had been brilliant but exhausting, and Harry had felt drained and elated when they'd gone down to the kitchen for another Potions lesson. That had been fun in its own way because Snape and the twins spent the whole time talking over his head about potions theory and how to make disagreeable ingredients taste good when merged with sweets. Harry even managed to ask a few reasonably intelligent questions and brew his potion correctly, though of course Snape criticized the texture, colour and his general ability to do anything right, ever.

For once, Harry couldn't take it personally.

After lunch, Snape and the twins took off with Harry's vault keys and a promise from Fred to bring him back something sweet. George promised to return with something spicy to counter it, and Harry promised to eagerly await them both. Then he spent the afternoon preparing for the evening, Defence notes set aside in favour of his Etiquette notebook. Snape had introduced him to over a dozen different subtle systems of flirtation this week, from cocktails to Potions ingredients, and Harry knew they'd spring them all on him, expecting him to be able to understand and respond in kind.

He eventually took the book into the bathroom, casting an Impervious charm on the Pages to keep them from getting wet, and when everyone got home he was there still.

"I found him!" Fred yelled down the hall before shutting the bathroom door behind him and giving Harry a distinct leer.

"I'm pretty sure you're supposed to save that for after dinner," said Harry with a little smile, setting the book aside and stretching in the water. The bubbles were still about half there, but he knew little patches of his body would show through the places where they'd all dissolved, and for once he found the prospect exciting instead of embarrassing.

Fred looked on admiringly, but nodded. "I'll have to. You've only got about half an hour to get ready and come down," he said, pulling an absurdly forlorn expression with that little sparkle of mischief that always seemed to lurk in his eyes.

The door opened behind him to admit George, that same little twinkle of wickedness mirrored in his appreciative gaze. "Molesting our little poppet without me?" he asked Fred, slinging an arm around his twin's waist with that natural casualness that Harry suspected they'd spent months perfecting just so they could touch each other in front of people and no one would ever know how much they enjoyed it.

"I'm not a poppet," said Harry, pulling the plug with his toes and standing rather than bothering to repeat his little show from earlier. "Don't you have to be a girl for that?"

Their eyes followed the water sluicing down off Harry's body, and he couldn't help but grin in a very satisfied manner at that. He stepped out of the tub, reached for a towel and began drying off as sensually as possible, running the rough cloth up one leg and down the other, bending over to give them a lovely view of his arse and the way his balls hung low and warm between his thighs.

"Definitely not a girl," said Fred, his voice holding a distracted tone that warmed Harry that much more.

Harry looked back over his shoulder and saw George's Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed. "You, um. Snape said, you..."

"Formal wear!" said Fred triumphantly, as if he'd just remembered the rest of their message.

"Right!" George said, eyes riveted on Harry's body. "Formal robes for dinner."

Harry nodded and began to dry his front, running the towel over his chest and stomach and finally grasping his cock and balls in a fold of it. "If you must dress at all," said Fred, letting out a little moan as Harry stroked himself just a little with the towel.

Harry felt sexy and wanton, like he was riding just the edge of that abyss and just barely keeping above water, which he thought was a good feeling to have just before going to play at being seduced. "I'd hate to put Severus to the blush," said Harry with a wink, drying his hair as fast as he could while trying to keep an eye on the twins.

"You'd love the punishment," said Fred, his hand moving across his body to twine with George's at his hip.

George gave Fred a little nuzzle that was the exact opposite of casual, and said, "We'd love administering it."

Harry tossed the towel aside and straightened his glasses, then snagged book and wand and walked right up to the two despite his nudity. "Going to help me dress?" he said with a flirty little wink, waiting for them to decide what they were going to do and get out of his way.

They exchanged a glance and looked Harry up and down, from his wrinkled toes to his messy, damp hair, and back to linger on his peaked nipples and hard prick. "As much as we'd love to," said Fred, his hand wandering up Harry's side to find and pinch one of his pink nipples to pleasantly painful redness.

"We've got to get dressed, too," said George, curling his fingers up around Harry's balls and giving them a gentle tug.

"Best get out of my way, then," said Harry, his voice gone embarrassingly breathless as he held onto the last tenuous threads of control that were keeping him from throwing himself on the twins and begging for a good seeing-to.

They parted silently, and Harry slipped out into the hall; he figured the odds of Snape catching him naked in 10 feet of hallway were slim enough it was worth the risk of getting in trouble for being a tease. He made it into his room with the sound of footsteps on the stairs chasing the door shut, and collapsed into giggles against it. When he composed himself enough to start looking around, he noticed that his dress robes had been neatly laid out along with all the appropriate underthings, and it was a matter of moments to slip into his clothes and try to do something about his hair.

He was still mucking about with his comb while the wardrobe mirror teased him relentlessly when a knock came at his door. "I'm ready, you can come in," he said, expecting the twins to accost him and undo what little progress he'd made.

Instead a smooth, sensual voice followed the creaking of the door. "I've brought your tokens, Harry, so you may choose one to wear for this evening's exercise," he said.

Harry turned and lost his train of thought completely for a moment as his eyes travelled up Snape's body, from the soft suede boots in a charcoal grey, over the silver embroidery glinting at the hem of Snape's slightly lighter grey robes. They continued upwards, over the body-hugging expanse of velvet that culminated in a subtly embroidered collar with a throat pin shaped, not like a snake as Harry had half-expected, but in a simple silver leaf design enamelled in green. His hair was pulled back in a green velvet ribbon, exposing the clean lines of his cheekbones and the wicked glint of his black eyes, and Harry had to shake himself mentally to keep from drooling. "I... you... what?" he said intelligently, trying to resist the urge to smack himself in the forehead.

"I'll take that as a compliment, though perhaps you ought to consider something a bit more... verbal, next time," said Snape, one eyebrow on the rise and a smirk settling on his mouth like a blackbird on its home perch. He set the items he'd been juggling on the bed, five small velvet boxes which obviously contained jewellery from Harry's vaults. "You should choose a token that appeals to you, and we can resize it to fit if it's too small or large," he said, opening each box in turn.

The first small box was a signet ring much like the one Snape had, though on a larger scale, obviously meant to be worn on the index or middle finger of a big man. It was the Black crest, and Harry just couldn't bring himself to touch it, let alone wear it. He shook his head, and Snape whisked the box away and opened the next.

A heavy bracelet of twined red and yellow gold lay there, an abstract design of wire that had been twisted and hammered flat. Harry touched that one, lifting it and caressing the surface, feeling the weight and shape of it. "Maybe," he said, settling it back into the case. "I like that one, regardless."

Snape nodded and opened the next, where a pair of simple ruby earrings set in gold pierced the velvet that nestled them. "You would, of course, only wear one," said Snape, tapping Harry's left ear meaningfully.

"But I'd have to pierce my ear every time I wanted to wear it, or wear it all the time," said Harry, though he intervened when Snape made to tuck the box away. He liked the glinting jewels, and he rather thought Hermione might like them as well, or perhaps the twins would wear one each for him.

Snape opened the next item without comment, though Harry could see he wanted to. This one was obviously also from the Black vaults, a cuff of twining snakes with twinkling emerald eyes. "Too Slytherin," said Harry, though he whispered a hullo to the snakes regardless.

Snape cleared his throat and Harry flushed, but listened when he said, "It could also be used to indicate your interest in the more... exotic sexual practices," he explained, and Harry nodded and left the box where it was.

The last one had obviously been tossed in just in case Harry didn't like any of the others, a gaudy lapel pin with a rampant Gryffindor lion in gold with huge ruby eyes, and some yellow gems scattered in the mane and tail. "This looks like something Aunt Petunia would wear," said Harry, snapping the lid shut himself and handing it off to Snape.

Snape smirked and tucked it away with the other, then nodded toward the remaining three. "Perhaps for tonight, as we are attempting to negotiate such activities, you ought to go with the snakes," he said, picking up the silver cuff and handing it to Harry.

It came alive once it was slipped over Harry's bony wrist, resizing itself and closing the gap so it was now a continuous pattern of serpents. "Let's hope it comes off," he said jokingly, closing up the all three boxes and palming the earrings while he stashed the other two in his trunk. "How do I look?" he asked, running his hand through his hair nervously.

His dress shoes were shiny new and uncomfortable, and the silk robes were long enough to cover all but the black tips of them. The robes themselves were a deep, rich blue with just a touch of sparkle in their depths that had appealed to him in the store, and seemed to go well with the bright slash of silver on his left wrist. They were fitted above the waist, but flared out below for walking, and the tailoring was just masculine enough, with boxy shoulders and a rounded Chinese-style collar, that he didn't feel too much like he was wearing a dress.

Snape's eyes glowed with appreciation and he smiled. "I shall be the envy of all the young men on the day I am allowed to take you out in public on my arm," he said simply, a compliment that warmed Harry more for having just the right mix of sentiment and frustration. "Shall we?" he said, surprising Harry once more by holding out one elbow, obviously intending escort Harry downstairs in style.

"A-all right," Harry stammered, stepping up and tucking his hand into the crook of Snape's arm the way he'd seen girls do, and feeling a bit foolish doing it. "Won't this be seen as showing you some favour early on or something?" he said, trying to tease and hoping it hadn't fallen too flat.

"I'm sure it's properly balanced by your naked strutting in front of the twins," Snape replied dryly, bringing the flush right back to Harry's cheeks.

"Saw that, did you?" he said as lightly as he could manage.

Snape chuckled as they reached the bottom of the stairs and said, "Just the tail end, as it were."

He was led into the parlour, where Dobby was cheerfully occupying the bar that had been set up, and a table for four was set for a rather fine dinner, with white linens and a dazzling array of the family silver and china. Fred and George were over by the fire, wearing their own matching dress robes of rust-red crushed velvet that gave the impression of having been slept on by a family pet despite, or perhaps because of, the natural texture of the fabric. "Mr. Potter, so good to see you again," said Fred smoothly, he and George gliding over as one.

"Messrs. Weasley," said Harry, stepping away from Snape just a touch, though it pained him to do so. "You know Pr- Mr. Snape, I presume?" The move revealed his bracelet, and all eyes snapped to the token, the only real decoration his costume afforded.

"We've met," said George, eyes twinkling as he held his hand out to Snape to be shaken. Harry noted that George had a simple gold band around his right pinkie, and a glance revealed its mate on Fred's left. Interesting, that they'd chosen to divide themselves that way, and Harry decided now was as good a time as any to comment.

"It's interesting, you wear your rings on the opposite hands," said Harry, subtle as a freight train but, he felt, not too bad for an opening gambit despite Snape's smirk.

"Rock, parchment, shears," said Fred, holding his bare right hand out for Snape to shake. Snape's own signet was, of course, decorating his own smallest finger on that hand, and Harry got a little roil of envy that he'd already been allowed to play top to Fred's bottom, and possibly even bottom to George's top.

Harry chuckled, but Snape gave a disapproving frown and said, "We agreed that you are to be separate entities for the purposes of this exercise, and that one of you would be a bottom so Harry had a sense of how to negotiate with someone he wanted, but possessed the same preferences as his own."

"Yeah, but he was dying to know," said George, giving Snape a gentle shove. "Look, how about we start over by buying Harry a drink before dinner?"

Snape nodded, mollified, though Harry had a sneaking suspicion he'd wanted to know just as badly as Harry had. At least this one question, Harry had an answer for, and he walked up to Dobby with a confident stride. "I'll take a virgin Bloody Mary, extra spicy," said Harry, a bold statement for someone with so little experience, but indicating his interest in heavy kink, as the book phrased it, as well as his own sexual status.

"I'll get that," said Snape, as Harry reached for his purse to 'pay' Dobby for his drink. Snape slid a Sickle across to the elf, who smiled and winked and dropped it into a glass that had obviously been set aside for just this purpose.

Harry smiled as coyly as he could manage and said, "Why, thank you. And what will you be having?"

Snape smirked and ordered a Vodka Gimlet with a twist of lime, just the name sending a shiver down Harry's spine. Harry was surprised to see sugar go into it, a sign that the person was looking for an emotional attachment rather than a single night, the twist yet another way to indicate an interest in the more exotic sexual practices. Another Sickle made its way from Snape's purse into Dobby's hands -- Snape had assured Harry that it was generally considered a faux pas for someone who'd just been bought a drink to then pay for the would-be paramour's refreshment.

"An interesting choice," said Fred, sidling up to the bar. "I'll have an Eye Opening Bloody Mary," he said to Dobby, smirking a little at Harry. Fortunately, the book had mentioned several variations on the common cocktails, including this one, and Harry knew it was a spicier version, and indicated a willingness for the drinker to go outside his preferences if the experience was worth it.

Harry felt his cheeks flushing as he wondered if they'd found him worth a bit of experimentation so far, and he was spared from having to think up a reply by George, who leaned right up next to him and winked. "I'll have a Dirty Martini," he said to Dobby, who was just finishing up Fred's drink.

"Dobby will be fixing it in one moment, George Weasley, sir," said the elf, stirring in an eye-watering amount of hot sauce before trading Fred his glass for another silver Sickle. He then deftly assembled George's drink, got his tip, and vanished as the men took their glasses to the table that had been set for them.

The cocktail thing was sort of an opening gambit, a way to see if there was any reason to go through the effort of a conversation; accordingly, all four men had indicated and interest in some degree of what Harry still privately thought of as 'naughty' sex, and by their manner they'd all shown an interest in Harry specifically. Usually, the next move was up to the one being courted, but Harry only knew the chess thing really well, and he couldn't very well set up a game between all four of them. Instead, he took refuge in the neat little menus provided by the house elves. "It, um, looks like there's quite a variety of dishes available," he said, surprised to see such gourmet fare from the Hogwarts elves.

"I've heard the cream sauce is excellent," said Snape, drolly enough to make Harry have to hide a snicker.

"I do enjoy a good cream sauce on nearly any dish," said Harry, eyes flicking over the menu. "I was rather hoping for something more substantial than pasta, however. I wonder if the cut of steak is properly tender?"

"A tender steak is a rare treat," said George, taking a sip of his drink. "So hard to find these days."

"And yet, always so satisfying, when you do find a good piece of meat to fill you up, wouldn't you say, Harry?" Fred chimed in, putting Harry to the blush.

"I wouldn't know," said Harry after a long moment of expectant silence, and he sipped his drink rather pointedly. "Perhaps I ought to try it. How would you recommend I take it, Severus?"

Fred had to hide a laugh behind his menu, and it was everything Harry could do to keep a straight face with his wide, innocent eyes turned to Snape. George was looking intently at him as well, though of course Snape managed to keep his composure as he said dryly, "Rare, with the cracked peppercorns rather than the sweet bourbon sauce."

"I take it you're not much for sweets?" Harry asked, feeling a strange little flutter in his stomach at the thought of it.

Snape closed his menu and looked Harry in the eye, disconcertingly direct as he said, "Sweetness has its place, but I prefer it in small doses rather than covering my entire meal in a cloying sauce of it."

Harry nodded; that message was pretty clear and, he thought, very much in line with what he knew of Snape. "Then you'll have to join me for pudding, once I've tried the steak." Harry followed this up by ordering the steak just as Snape had recommended with chips, and broccoli as well. The little folder disappeared from his hands with a little pop, and Harry blinked, startled.

Snape opened his menu and spoke his order aloud, getting curry of all things, which Harry wasn't even sure he'd seen in his list; Fred ordered his own steak with a spice rub, and George the pasta with cream sauce. Once all the menus were gone, Snape laid his napkin over his lap and said, "I'd love to join you for any sort of after-dinner sweet that suits you."

Harry tried really hard not to feel dirty about that, and failed completely as images sprang into his head of himself covered in those fruity sauces from Bartholomew & Artemis' restaurant and Snape licking them off, remarking all the while about the piquant flavour and the quality of the tableware. "P-perhaps you could tell me a bit about yourselves?" Harry asked, slightly desperate for someone else to pick a topic.

The food appeared, and Fred picked up the thread of conversation, talking about flowers while they ate, drawing them all into the complicated language that had been used for centuries by men and women alike to send messages. That led them to Potions ingredients, and Harry started to feel hopelessly lost, concentrating more on his food than the talk swirling around above his head. It was George who noticed Harry had stopped contributing and changed the subject to Quidditch which, being a sport with 14 broomsticks and 4 balls that involved putting things through hoops on sticks, was a very easy subject to turn to less than pure purposes.

In the end, Harry had no idea how he was supposed to choose between them and, after a couple of glasses of the excellent wine that Snape had ordered for the four of them, said so.

"Which one of us do you want to take you upstairs?" Snape asked, his eyes smoky and full of promises that the ache in Harry's chest reminded him that neither of them could fulfil tonight.

Harry thought about the conversation they'd had, the side each of them had shown him and the hints he'd caught -- not to mention the ones they'd all dropped that he hadn't figured out -- and shook his head. "You're all wonderful," he said, cheeks growing pink as he remembered one of the codes that he'd read. "This evening has made me want a... a bouquet, with harebell, gladiolus and snapdragons, to lay on a bed of grass and dog rose petals," he said, having chosen a few of those flowers earlier, though he'd intended himself for the harebell meaning submission, and coral roses of desire for the Weasley twins -- though of course he knew they really did deserve different symbols, he'd been quite tired and given up at finding the one.

Snape looked impressed, and Fred and George looked lascivious and suspiciously thoughtful at once, exchanging those glances that always made Harry wonder just what they were communicating. "We'd offer to arrange that," said Fred, looking from Harry to Snape.

"But it would only get us all in trouble," said George, shaking his head regretfully.

Harry realized what they were proposing and thought he might burst right out of his pants for a moment, swallowing down some cool water as though the ice might slide all the way down to where he needed it most. "Ah, perhaps once there's a proper opportunity," he said, looking intently at Snape's face for any reaction, "we could reconsider the matter?"

Snape looked pensive, but then he nodded once and set his napkin on his plate. "I shall trust that after many cups of chamomile tea," he said, and Harry's memory supplied a whisper of patience among the meanings, "you will bring me tulips and not yarrow, and I'll have no cause to refuse such a proposal."

Harry blinked and nodded, filing the statement away to look up later, though he was pretty sure he knew what Snape meant. "I'll sip chamomile as well," said Harry, unconsciously copying Snape's formal speech, "and hope that you won't trade my tulips for love-lies-bleeding."

George laid his hand over Harry's and smiled softly. "We'll send you pansies all year long," he said softly, his eyes warm and serious.

"And hope not to get lotus blossoms back," said Fred, a wistful smile on his face when Harry turned to him, the same look he sometimes carried when he thought Harry wasn't looking. It was a smile that said he knew their time with Harry was limited, and sometimes he even minded.

"Never lotus," said Harry, the strange code coming back to him as they kept using it, like a foreign language he'd read about but never actually tried to speak until just now. "Pansies and zinnia for both of you," he said, looking from one to the other, acutely aware that the game had ended and they were speaking of much deeper things now.

"I believe," said Snape, reaching out and giving Harry's cheek one light, tantalizing caress, "that it is time for me to go have some of that chamomile, while you three negotiate the rest of your evening." He stood up and came around the table to stand next to Harry, putting a hand on one shoulder that seemed hot and cold all at once. "You did well, Harry. Though I hope you never have to use this knowledge, I truly feel you'd be able to, should it become your only recourse."

Harry nodded, covering Snape's hand with his own. "I hope not to have to use it, either, but I'm grateful that you care enough to teach me so thoroughly, and to allow others to teach where you can't," he said softly, speaking their own sort of code.

Snape gave him a wordless squeeze on one shoulder and a look that spoke volumes, and then left. Harry took a moment to catch his breath, watching Snape's rather fine arse on the way out as a bonus, and then turned back to the Weasley twins with an impish grin. "Well, it seems that this lesson is over. Is it time for the next?"

Notes: Harebell is for submission, gladiolus and snapdragons for strength, grass for submission and homosexual love, the dog rose is for pleasure & pain and coral rose for desire. Chamomile is patience, as well as energy in adversity; tulips are a declaration of love, and yarrow is the cure for heartache. Love-lies-bleeding is pretty self-explanatory; pansies are for thoughts and love, lotus is for estranged love and forgetfulness, zinnia are for thoughts of an absent friend.

A Question of Etiquette XV: Keeping Above Water