Thursday afternoon, nearly two weeks after the start of term, Harry found himself outside Snape's rooms with his Occlumency journal in one hand and the other poised in front of the door. His etiquette lessons had been scheduled for Saturdays, to afford them the freedom to entertain visitors in Snape's rooms or go out on Hogsmeade weekends to practice public decorum. Thankfully, Dumbledore had agreed that Austereus would provide sufficient chaperone for their everyday schoolwork, though Snape and Harry both failed to mention that their first kiss had taken place right under the portrait's painted nose.

Harry shoved those thoughts away and tried to concentrate on the lesson at hand, forcing himself to stand up straight and knock, sifting through the mental images he'd prepared and hoping Snape would give him a bit of a break this first time, despite all past evidence to the contrary.

"Do stop dawdling, Potter," said Snape, holding the door open and motioning for Harry to proceed through to his private sitting room.

"Er, sorry, sir," said Harry, though he was still a few minutes early, and couldn't have made Snape wait very long. He hurried into the sitting room, finding it much as he'd seen it last, minus the chess table. The two chairs had been moved closer to the fire and Austereus' sombre portrait, and there was tea and biscuits laid out on the table between them. "Tea, sir?" he asked, plopping down into one of the chairs anyway and hoping for a peaceful cuppa before the torment began.

"I have decided that a review of what little knowledge you've managed to gain would best assist me in planning our lessons," said Snape, taking the other seat and holding out his hand. "Your notebook, if you please."

"Oh, right," said Harry, handing off the journal. They'd both been getting frustrated with Harry's progress, or lack thereof, near the end of summer -- Harry could keep Snape trapped in one of his many wanking memories well enough, but when he tried for the empty blankness of a true Occlumens, Snape easily overwhelmed him time and again. "Er, is the tea for us?"

Snape rolled his eyes. "Who else would it be for, the portrait?"

"I'm afraid I am beyond such things, young Potter," said Austereus with a look of longing.

"I thought you could have, you know, painted tea?" Harry asked curiously, pouring for himself and Snape as well, since Snape already had his nose buried in Harry's journal. Harry floated one thin slice of lemon on top of Snape's tea just the way he knew Snape liked it and put the cup within easy reach, then began to make his own.

"Ah, well, it's just not the same," said Austereus, fiddling with one of the paperweights adorning the desk he'd been portrayed behind. "It all tastes a bit like paint."

Harry hid a snicker behind his teacup and sipped, turning it into a wistful smile of his own as he realized that he liked his tea better when Snape made it. "I understand," he said, setting his cup down. "Tea's one of those things that only tastes right when it's right."

"On the other hand," said Austereus, clearly enjoying the chance to converse with someone other than Snape, "Some days, any cuppa tastes heavenly, just because it's tea." He pulled a whole tea set into the painting from where the barest edge of the silver salver had been visible off to the left, and poured his own drink.

"Too true," said Harry with a grin, glancing over at Snape, who was pointedly ignoring them in favour of Harry's rather scribbly writing, though he was sipping the cup of tea Harry had fixed for him.

"What are you studying today, young man?" asked Austereus stiffly, when the silence between the three of them stretched too long.

"Occlumency," said Harry with a sigh. "I'm ars- um, not very good at it, really, but Se- the professor keeps trying to pound it into my skull."

"A spy's skill," said Austereus with a sniff. "One ought not have anything in one's mind that would be incriminating in the first place."

"It's more he's trying to keep Vo- er, the Dark Lord from taking me over through this," said Harry, touching the scar on his forehead. "I'm still impressionable youth and all," he added, figuring the stuffy portrait would appreciate the idea.

"Indeed. You ought to work on that stammering problem as well," said Austereus with the air of someone passing on their years of wisdom.

Harry was saved from replying when Snape closed the little book with a snap. "All that aside, I believe I see where your problem lies."

Harry resisted the urge to ask just which of his problems Snape was referring to, and nodded. "You've found out where I've got it wrong?"

Snape laid one hand on the book and took another sip. "Not wrong precisely, but I do think I see where the difficulty springs from. You do not like the idea of the empty dark as a trap, and when you are trapping me within the small, empty nothingness, you are in effect trapping yourself as well. Your walls are thin and weak because you fear remaining locked inside alone."

Harry stared at Snape, floored. "You got all that from my notes?"

Snape rolled his eyes again and passed the book back. "No, your notes simply confirm my theory, based on what I know of your unfortunate childhood."

"Oh," said Harry weakly, as it all clicked into place. He really didn't like the idea of locking Snape in anywhere that wasn't a bedroom, but even more he hated going into that tiny nothingness, alone or with Snape, and most definitely didn't want to be trapped with Voldemort. Which, of course, rendered the whole thing useless. "So, er, what do we do about it?"

"We will construct a place of light instead, which you will hopefully have less difficulty utilising. A vast plain of endless space that he will be trapped inside because there will be no walls to batter down, only empty horizon on all sides," Snape replied, sitting back and taking a sip of his tea. A small smile flitted across his face for a moment before his stony facade slipped back into place.

Harry took heart from the smile and sipped his own tea. "So, it's more like a good feeling than a bad one, and that way I don't mind sharing it with you for however long?" he asked, nibbling on a tangy lemon biscuit and pondering the memories he could use to build from until he thought he knew just the right one.

"Correct," said Snape, taking another drink. "I can see you already have something in mind, so that will help. Today we're going to work on creating a new memory through visualisation, since having something concrete to throw at me seems to help you. I'll need to enter your mind, but if you don't resist then it will be easier than our usual encounters."

"Thank god for that," said Harry with heartfelt sincerity; he hadn't been looking forward to the unpleasantly violated and exhausted feeling he got after the worst of their lessons, much preferring to imagine a different sort of violation at Snape's hands.

Snape laughed, not the cold thing he unleashed as a weapon during classes, but a warm chuckle that drew an answering one from Harry. "I expect we're both relieved to have a different focus today," he said, laying his hand over Harry's with unexpected gentleness.

Harry turned his hand over so their fingers tangled together. "I'm ready," he said with an impish little smile, pretending that the physical contact helped anything besides his libido.

Snape shot him a knowing smirk, then took up his wand and cast, "Legilimens."

Harry concentrated on his chosen memory, of flying high above the Quidditch pitch until the world seemed like nothing but endless blue all around, then pulled Snape in with him using the little mental twist he'd been practicing for weeks. It all felt so real enhanced by Snape's magic like this that he nearly wobbled himself out of the sky when he felt a weight settle behind him on the broom. "Severus, what... how?"

"Magic, of course," said Snape, with the tone of one speaking the very obvious, his arms going around Harry's waist to stabilize himself. He was warm and solid against Harry's back, and Harry couldn't help but lean into him a little, back arching and arse rocking in hopes of finding a different long, hard thing to invite between his legs.

Harry's mind immediately went to other possibilities for this particular magic, but Snape interrupted his thoughts. "It won't work. Any hint of guilt will show all over your face the next time you speak to the Headmaster," said Snape, though he wasn't so averse to the idea that he didn't whisper it into Harry's ear, warm breath sending a shiver down Harry's spine and the blood rushing to his prick.

"Yes, sir," said Harry teasingly, and then he chuckled. "I wouldn't want to try and trap Vol- You Know Who in a memory like that anyway," he said, torn between appalled and amused at the very thought.

"No," said Snape shortly, pulling back so his body was barely brushing Harry's, "You would not."

Harry flushed, remembering Snape's confession to him that night in the Leaky Cauldron, what seemed like years ago. "Sorry, I guess that's less funny than it seemed," he said apologetically. "Er, now how do we work this?"

Snape snorted, but he relented enough to move close again, gesturing widely with one arm, the other snug around Harry's waist once more. "We already have."

Harry blinked, then looked around again. This time, the sky was actually endless, nothing but blue forever above and below, as if he could fall or fly forever and never get anywhere but here. "Wow, I guess we did," he said, heart starting to pound with exhilaration at the thought of flying so high the ground just vanished. A grin split his face as he realized that this might actually work, now that they'd made a new memory from the old, not that he really understood how it had happened.

Snape's arms gave Harry a gentle squeeze, though his voice was blandly instructive as he explained. "Once I appeared in the memory it no longer conformed to your actual experience, and your own instincts created this alternative with minimal guidance."

"It's nothing but sky and clouds and light," said Harry, zooming them around a little just because he could. It would be easy to get lost in here with nothing concrete to ground you, but that was part of the point, too -- if he could disorient anyone trying to get into his head too much to find a way out of his trap, all the better.

"Indeed," said Snape dryly; obviously he didn't approve of Harry's brief foray into poetry.

Harry snickered. "Yes, Professor," he said in a singsong voice, looking around just a little more. "That one looks sort of like a bunny," he said, pointing to one particularly well-formed cloud.

"If you have the presence of mind for such flights of fancy, it is time to conclude the lesson," said Snape, and Harry felt him vanish just as suddenly as he had appeared.

Harry closed his eyes and took a deep breath, reminding himself that he wasn't flying really, but in his chair under the warmth of the fire and the sharp gaze of Austereus Snape's painting. He opened his eyes, but the sky was still there, and he felt his heart skip a beat. Well, it was obviously a good trap if even he couldn't find his way out, but he knew there had to be one. He concentrated on the senses that were missing, trying to smell the tea, hear the crackle of the fire, taste the lingering sweetness of the biscuit on his tongue. He closed his eyes and breathed in deep, and slowly he could feel reality begin to return and hear Snape speaking as if from a great distance.

"...come out of it on his own, Austereus, or it won't do him any good at all," Snape was arguing as Harry pried his eyes open, grateful for once to be back in the grip of gravity.

"I'm all right," said Harry, blinking up at the concerned portrait. "He's right, I had to find my way out by myself, or else I'd never believe I could, and I'd be too scared to go back."

Snape looked terribly smug as he sat back and took a sip of his tea, and Austereus harrumphed. "Next time will be quicker," said Snape, his tone challenging despite the reassurance offered in his words.

Harry took it as both and nodded. "Yes, next time I'll have got the hang of it. Er, but not today, right?"

"Not today," said Snape, pointing his wand in the air and conjuring a small clock face. "It has grown quite late."

Harry was shocked to find that over two hours had passed since the start of their lesson. "Was all that while we were... in my head?"

"For the most part. It took a great deal of time for you to win free of your own illusion, which appears to involve a degree of timelessness," Snape replied calmly, with just a hint of approval creeping into his voice at the end.

Harry grinned and said, "Looks like I did a brilliant job then, eh?"

Snape rolled his eyes. "Do better next time," he said, standing. He stalked to his bookshelves, sadly not the same one that had produced the sex book, and returned with a tatty old textbook. "I wish you to read my own notes from the time I learned the art, keeping in mind my age and... areas of interest, at the time they were written," he said, handing it over reluctantly.

Harry tamped down his inner glee at getting some potential insight into what Snape might have been like at his own age and forced himself to nod seriously. "Thank you, Severus. I promise not to abuse your trust," he said quietly, smoothing his hand over the cover. From the Dark, it read, though the much of the gold had flaked off the lettering, making the subtitle impossible to decipher.

"My Defence Against the Dark Arts text for Seventh Year," said Snape, running one long finger over the letters in something like a caress.

At least that explained why they were nearly worn away. "I'll take good care of it," said Harry.

"Keep it away from your fellow idiots," said Snape, pulling his hand back and sitting abruptly. "Upon retrospect, it is obvious that the text was designed to lure students through the fuzzy grey areas of Defence and into the Dark Arts themselves, but the slant is not as apparent when one is young and naive."

Harry swallowed and nodded; that explained why they didn't use it in class anymore, anyway. "Yes, sir," he said, setting it aside and picking up his tea and another couple of biscuits.

"Did you have any questions?" asked Snape pointedly. He glanced at the clock, which was ticking merrily on past both their theoretical bedtimes, and Harry flushed.

"No, sorry," said Harry, stuffing a biscuit in his mouth and then finishing off his tea in one gulp. "I'll let you get to bed. Sorry." He swallowed again, mouth suddenly dry as his mind crowded with thoughts of Snape undressing button by button, Snape running those graceful hands all over his wet skin during his nightly bath, Snape laid out in his dark bed between the crisp white sheets, beckoning for Harry to join him.

"Indeed," said Snape, one eyebrow raised in such a way that Harry was sure his thoughts showed on his face quite clearly.

Harry ate the last biscuit, clutched both books to his chest and stood. "Thank you for the tea and the excellent lesson, Professor, and for watching over us, Mr. Snape, sir," he said, addressing the last to the disgruntled portrait in an attempt to show Snape that he hadn't forgotten all of his etiquette in the past two weeks.

"You're welcome, I'm sure," said Austereus, still put out by losing the argument to his descendent. "I will see you Saturday for your etiquette lesson, I hear?" he added politely, though clearly that whole idea filled him with the sort of displeasure certain people enjoyed to the hilt.

"Yes, sir," said Harry, "Thank you, sir." He turned back to Snape and asked, "Should I bring that journal as well?"

"That would be best, yes," said Snape, smirking ever so slightly at the discomfited portrait. "I trust it is not too personal for propriety."

Harry couldn't help but laugh; if they'd been notes on the twins' lessons, then he'd understand, but most of his etiquette notes were about the meanings of things and lists for him to memorise, ideas for how to try and be clever which almost never panned out in actual conversation. "No, sir, it's all stuff that relates directly."

"Excellent," said Snape, his tone an obvious dismissal as he went back to sipping his tea.

"Right. See you Saturday!" said Harry, escaping while his skin was still intact. Harry couldn't really complain about the lesson as it had been their easiest yet, but at the same time he never quite trusted this new, amenable Snape at times like this. It would be far too easy for them both to fall back into old habits and old animosities, and Harry didn't think he had the stomach for it any longer.

---

Saturday morning at breakfast, Harry was surprised to find himself among the few recipients of mail. He fished the heavy, cream-coloured envelope out of his porridge and wiped it clean, then fed the delivery owl a bit of bacon, though he was careful to keep a few scraps for Hedwig. He hadn't seen her in awhile, and he knew she got lonely up there in the owlery, so he'd make sure to visit before his afternoon lesson.

Harry nibbled his interrupted breakfast, staring at the envelope with a mix of confusion and anticipation. He recognized Snape's handwriting on the front, but couldn't for the life of him figure out why Snape would send him a letter. A swig of pumpkin juice and he plucked up his courage, hoping it wasn't some sort of dismissal, and cracked the green wax of the seal. A smaller note fell out, but Harry ignored it for the time being in favour of the main message.

Dear Mr. Potter, I trust this missive finds you well. You are cordially invited to tea at four o'clock this afternoon, in my quarters. We will be joined by a mutual acquaintance. Wizarding attire, and RSVP, kindly requested. Yours, Severus Snape

Harry grinned; he suspected that the "mutual acquaintance" was Austereus' portrait, which had agreed to take a more active part in their lessons from time to time, providing a foil for their conversation, though he'd refused to attempt in any way to elicit Harry's affections. Still, it would be interesting to wear robes that weren't the simple student ones, and good practice to sit a more formal tea with Snape rather than their usual casual games of chess or rambling conversations by the fire. Harry tucked the letter away in his robes, then pulled out a quill and penned a quick, formal reply on the smaller card provided for just that purpose, sending it off with the owl and shooting another glance toward Snape's disinterested face.

---

Harry smoothed down his robes one last time, admiring himself in the mirror; he never felt quite so much like a proper wizard as when he was wearing real robes, the sort with nothing but pants underneath and enough weight to them that he didn't feel like he was wearing a dress instead. He went to his trunk and removed the final piece of his outfit, not the bracelet of snakes that he'd worn at their practice, but the heavy cuff of red and yellow gold; the simple pattern of twined, flattened wire made a nice contrast to the plain, deep blue style of his robes.

He checked to be sure he had everything he'd need: his etiquette journal, a self-inking quill, and a small guesting-gift of sweets he'd bought in Diagon Alley for just this sort of thing. He glanced at the clock, and left anyway, figuring he'd get waylaid in the common room, or dawdle on his way to the dungeons.

In the end, he just showed up early.

Harry was surprised to find the door to Snape's office ajar and voices coming out of it as he approached, and he hung back for a moment, indecisive.

"...won't mind?" said a naggingly familiar voice.

"Of course not," Snape's voice answered, not the cold teacher voice Harry had just begun to get used to again but the warmth that Harry had heretofore only heard him use with the twins, or Harry himself. "I assure you..." Snape's voice went too low to understand, and Harry got a disconcerting image of Snape whispering intimately to whomever it was in there with him.

Harry found himself propelled forward before he'd even properly made the decision to move, and he knocked politely on the open door. "Professor?" he said, peeking into the office, "Am I too... oh, Percy!" Harry blushed and smiled, and tried to banish the small core of doubt inside him that wondered why Snape was being so, so personable with Percy.

"Harry! It's so good to see you again," said Percy, his own cheeks picking up a hectic flush of red. "I was just asking Professor Snape..."

"Severus, please," interrupted Snape, shooting Harry a significant glance. "I was just assuring him that you wouldn't mind at all if he attended one of your lessons."

Percy swallowed, and Harry didn't have the heart to be jealous of the earnest young man in front of him, who so very obviously wanted to fit in. Harry thought about how he might feel, if he'd made it to Percy's age and had no one at all to confide in about his wayward sexuality, and let genuine welcome bleed into his smile. "Of course I don't mind," he said, closing Snape's office door and moving into the room. "You'll have to be patient with me, though, I'm still learning all the proper signals."

Harry glanced down at Percy's left hand, eyes lingering on the ring still glinting on the smallest finger there as though it were some other, more intimate part of Percy. Percy's flush deepened gratifyingly, and his spine straightened just the tiniest bit more. "As I, myself, have had no formal... introduction to these matters, I'm sure we'll be on nearly equal footing. It is only Pr- Severus who shall have to endure our fumbling about."

"Which I can assure you I am quite accustomed to," said Snape, opening the door to his quarters and gesturing for them to precede him. "I have been giving these lessons for nearly as long as young Mister Potter has been alive."

Harry shot him a glare, as if to remind him that they weren't so very far apart in age as all that, and led Percy into the room that was slowly becoming as familiar to him as his own. There were three chairs grouped around the tea service this time, and Austereus was nowhere to be found, his desk sitting empty above the cheerful fire. "Tell me," said Harry, taking the seat furthest from the door, "How are things going with you lately, Percy?"

Percy took the chair opposite, leaving the middle one for Snape, who followed on their heels, inner door firmly closed behind him. Percy smiled and fiddled with his ring, shrugging. "It's been... different. I never really was the sort to get women flirting at work, so that hasn't changed much, but I do get less invitations to tea from the shop ladies."

Harry looked surprised. "Do you wear it always, then?" he asked, nodding toward Percy's hands. Snape raised an eyebrow at him before pouring, hands moving with their usual mesmerising grace as they prepared tea, first for Percy, then Harry, and finally Snape's own lemon-scented cup.

"No, no," said Percy quickly, looking faintly appalled. "No, but the gossip, you know. At least I'm... I've been attending Sunday dinners at the Burrow again." He accepted the tea from Snape with a quiet thanks, looking shy and radiating a sort of nervous happiness, as though he worried any misstep would get him kicked out in the cold again, now he'd found his way back into the warm glow of family and friends. He took a sip and made a small noise of surprise. "You know how I take my tea!"

Snape smiled, as smug as Harry had ever seen him. "Yes," he said, taking a sip of his own, "I do."

Harry snorted and shot him a teasing look. "He did it to me my first time, as well. I thought he'd gone soft, but I think he just likes to shock people."

Percy laughed, the sound surprising for how very rarely Harry could remember hearing it. "I expect you're right, Harry," he said, taking another sip of the warm brew. "It would be like our Severus to turn a small kindness into another way to mess with people's minds."

Harry was surprised at how comfortably he and Percy slipped into their roles, Harry using the same teasing tone he took when the twins were there to be on his side and Percy following right along, relaxing a millimetre at a time. "What are you doing at the Ministry now, anyway?" Harry asked, curious despite himself to find out what had become of Percy's rather unusual career.

"Still Junior Assistant to the Minister, believe it or not," Percy replied, with a wry little smile that showed Harry just how much he understood of his position, now he'd been stripped of his illusions. "I think that my reconciliation with my family is what saved me, despite any rumours of... less than acceptable social inclinations. I suppose I ought to be grateful that they're all in that Order of theirs, so it gives Scrimgeour a reason to be interested in me."

"Better than a blo-" Harry began, then blushed when Snape shot him a quelling look. "Er, I mean, I'm sure there's a long tradition of using family connections to rise in the Ministry. Look at Malfoy."

"Though much of his erstwhile influence is due to the family's coffers rather than its reputation," said Snape dryly, "Harry is, essentially, correct. While it is preferable to rise on one's own merits, as long as one is rising it is sometimes best not to question the cause."

Percy gave a wry little laugh. "Well, I tried that, but I'm afraid all my rising from now on has to be with both eyes open, so to speak," he said, long arm reaching out to snag a biscuit, one of the sugared lemon kind that Harry had taken such a liking to since the day he first watched Snape eating one. Harry was surprised to find himself admiring Percy's fingers and the neat way he bit into the biscuit, not a single speck of the fine sugar making its way onto his face or robes.

In a way, he supposed it was a bit like watching a cross between Fred and George, and Snape -- all the Weasley looks with Snape's deliberate grace and dignity. Harry wondered if this was more like what Snape wanted, someone he could talk to about intellectual things, who wouldn't roll his eyes and tease about being stuffy, but share in Snape's enthusiasm. He bit back a sigh and hid his worries in his teacup, sipping the tea and savouring this small evidence that Snape had at least noticed something about him aside from his numerous faults, even before the lessons began.

As the silence grew, Harry shifted in his seat, reviewing the various forms of coded flirtation that might be expected of him today. "Erm," he said, biting his lip shyly, "I wanted to thank you for the gift, a-and your advice. It was very kind of you to notice that I prefer the caramels."

Much to Harry's surprise, Percy blushed just a little, tiny spots of colour forming on his cheeks. "I've always noticed your preferences, Harry," he said, and it was Harry's turn to flush.

"Did you pick up any for yourself, or do you prefer the flower creams like Neville?" asked Harry coyly, though he knew the answer he wanted -- it wasn't something Snape had covered much, using the subject at hand rather than a rote set of signals, but Harry was pretty sure he was being obvious.

"I haven't tried the caramels yet," said Percy, sipping his tea almost primly, "but the flower creams were not to my taste."

"Indeed," said Snape, rescuing Harry inadvertently, though Harry wondered at the note of danger in his tone. "Were you hoping that Harry might share his with you?"

Harry's blush deepened at that, but he looked at Percy curiously; it would've been a disaster with the two of them fumbling virgins together, but on the other hand, if Harry hadn't been found out by Snape he'd have been grateful for Percy's interest. Looking up Percy's body once again, under the guise of sipping his tea, Harry thought he'd have considered himself rather lucky, once they'd figured things out.

Percy cleared his throat and replied carefully, "I might have enjoyed sharing them, but I wouldn't intrude on Harry's enjoyment." He seemed about to say something else, but instead he snagged another biscuit, this one a delicate lace made of almonds and caramel with dark chocolate covering one side.

Harry loved those biscuits.

"I'm afraid circumstances really didn't permit it," said Harry gently, looking at Percy with the warm glow of appreciation naked in his eyes, "but if things were different, I would gladly have shared the discovery of them with you." He leaned in and snagged another of those sweet biscuits, hoping Snape understood what he meant.

"It is always better to share such a delicacy with someone who knows how to properly appreciate it," said Snape, perceptive as always. "Perhaps you would appreciate some introductions?"

This was something else they'd only touched on, though if Harry and Snape didn't make a go of it, Snape had promised something similar to him. When a young man was unable to find a trustworthy mentor, he could often ask the mentor or lover of a friend to introduce him to some candidates, knowing that then it was a matter of compatibility rather than trust. Percy looked surprised, as though it hadn't occurred to him that he might have any connections to call upon in that regard. "Oh! I... I'd really appreciate that," he said, relaxing into his chair just a little.

"I do not have the contacts I once did," said Snape, pausing to drain his tea and set it down in front of him, the lemon slice looking limp and forlorn in the bottom of the cup. "However, I do, as they say, know people who know people. I would be happy to take you and Harry to dinner in Diagon Alley and introduce you, perhaps over the winter holidays?"

"Will the Headmaster let me out?" asked Harry excitedly, thinking how wonderful it would be to see the cheerful Bartholomew and Artemis again, and perhaps even get some extra Christmas shopping in outside of Hogsmeade's limited selection.

Snape cocked his head, and then shrugged. "That remains to be seen," he said, then looked over at Percy expectantly.

"I'd love to, Severus," said Percy, smiling shyly as though he'd just now figured out what it was that Harry saw in Snape, which didn't make Harry any happier despite having just had his own moment of understanding.

Harry finished his tea and set down the cup. "More tea?" he asked brightly, lifting the pot to pour for all three of them, starting with his own cup.

"Please," said Snape, Banishing the lemon from his cup and replacing it with a fresh slice.

"Yes, please," said Percy, draining his own cup and setting it in front of him. Harry poured, for Snape and Percy as well, smiling to himself when Snape took over from there, adding milk and sugar generously to Harry's cup, a splash of milk and a touch of honey to Percy's.

"So," said Snape, the tone of his voice more sensual than before, a signal to Harry that the proper lesson was starting. He turned to Percy and continued, "I have been looking into a gold cauldron, what do you feel is the proper thickness?"

Percy looked surprised for a moment, and then he caught on and smiled back, just a touch of artificialness in the expression. "Well, I do feel the thicker the better, to a certain extent," he replied, hands in his lap and both tea and biscuit temporarily abandoned. "What do you intend to use it for?"

Harry sighed and nibbled his own biscuit, chocolate melting onto his fingers while he watched them. He never quite felt like he understood the potions aspect of these games, which was probably why Snape chose it; it was fascinating to watch Snape and Percy spar, though Harry didn't have much to add. They were talking about the proper altitude for harvesting iceberries by the time Harry finished his treat, and Harry licked the sweet stuff off his fingers distractedly.

He blushed when their conversation stopped, two sets of eyes riveted on his mouth. Percy had to clear his throat three times before he could make words come out, and Harry was bright red by the time he managed it. "I take it you enjoy the almond lace biscuits?" he asked, staring at the remaining smear of chocolate on Harry's thumb.

"Er, yes, sorry," said Harry, snagging a napkin and wiping both his hands and mouth. "They're a bit like one of the sweets you gave me, actually."

Percy blinked and seemed to find that idea highly intriguing. "I can only be happy that anything I gave you could bring you so much pleasure," he said, his voice just a touch rough.

Harry had a feeling they weren't talking about sweets anymore. "It's almost a shame we share the same tastes," said Harry, nodding to the biscuit on Percy's plate, and then to the ring on Percy's left hand. "Sometimes it's best to, er, eat with someone who can introduce you to new flavours."

Snape surprised them both by throwing his head back and laughing, warm and thick and honeyed. "Very astute," said Snape, taking a sip of his own, unsweetened tea. "Though it's good to have some tastes in common, as well," he added, snagging the third and last of the almond biscuits off the plate and taking a bite that seemed to involve a highly unnecessary amount of tongue.

Harry and Percy both fidgeted in their seats at that, and Harry couldn't even bring himself to be upset with Snape for the display. "That's also very true," said Harry, not bothering to try and hide his need; they'd all knew he was bollocks at keeping his thoughts out of his face, so instead he let them show, though he did cross his legs to hide the other evidence of his interest.

"I'm sure you'll help me find someone suitable for my own... culinary explorations," said Percy, though the look on his face was one of longing.

"You'll find just the right person," said Harry, breaking their roles completely as he leaned forward to give Percy's hand a squeeze. "Trust me, Percy, a lot of blokes will be lining up once they figure out you're on the market."

Snape set the biscuit down before the chocolate could melt enough to stain his own fingers, nodding to Percy. "The things that made you less than popular among the rabid hordes of students here at Hogwarts will give you great appeal among those looking for a younger paramour, Percy. It is very rare to find a young man so capable of erudite conversation, yet possessed of the innate sensuality that is your inheritance."

It took Harry a moment to puzzle out the compliment; he shot Snape a speculative look, wondering if Percy knew about Fred and George, and Harry's other lessons or Snape's dalliances with them. Surely not.

Percy smiled shyly and said, "I know my older brothers have always had it, and I always admired them for their ability to show it freely."

"There's nothing wrong with keeping it just for someone you care for," said Harry, glancing over at Snape once again before he could stop himself.

"Just so," said Snape, sitting back in his chair to sip at his tea with a smug little smile on his face.

Percy chuckled and sipped his own tea, and this time the silence that descended was comfortable, companionable. When they spoke again it was of personal things, less artifice and more the simple catching up of old friends. Eventually Harry took his leave, giving Snape his journal to review over the week, guesting-gift still snug in his pocket; he'd ask about the best time for that next week as well. He went up to bed pondering the tantalizing question of how things might have been between him and Percy, or even the twins, without Snape there to guide his steps and steal his heart. He tried very hard not to think about what might have been between Snape and Percy, were Harry not around to keep them apart.

Mostly, he even succeeded.

A Question of Etiquette XIX: Turning the Tables