CHAPTER 6
Harry retrieved his coin which was lying in a basin on the other side of the gate and started exploring.
The Romantic section was enormous. A small map was stuck on the wall, clarifying which room was which. Harry raised his eyebrows as he read the names of the rooms: Wizard's Blizzards was one, Which Witch another; and the one in which he was standing was most appropriately called Amortentia. He had been afraid that it would resemble Madame Puddifoot's, but he was reassured on this point. Casual wizarding music was playing. There was no evidence of hearts or other kitschy stuff. The place was quite crowded with people. A witch with glossy brown hair and interestingly cut robes was rushing about serving the customers. The skirt of her glittery silver outfit was diagonally cut, the hem reaching just above her right knee to descend to the shin of her left leg. She was wearing strappy high-heels, and the heels changed colours continuously just like the gate through which Harry had entered. A silver sash was tied around her waist, and the sleeves, tight on the upper arms, hung loose upon her forearms. The other waitresses were similarly dressed, except that the colours of their robes and sashes were different, varying from neon-blue to creamy-pink. The wooden tables were round and highly polished, the chairs very comfortable with velvet upholstery. One wall, Harry discovered, was dedicated to an art exhibition which was changed every month. Looking at the pictures, he realised why the section was restricted. This month's exhibition was entitled "Flirting with your feet" and sported three large animated canvases all displaying the same sitting – a pair of legs, one a witch's, the other a wizard's, underneath a table-top.
The last canvas left nothing to the imagination – the feet seemed rather entangled and the shoes mixed up. Harry rubbed his forehead and backed away hastily.
"That's nothing," a passing waitress said to him, "next month's exhibition will deal with hands."
"Thanks for the warning – uhm, how do you know what's on next month?"
"New member, eh? You'll receive the information via owl post," she said over her shoulder, levitating three trays of what looked like pink butterbeer with her wand.
"Is that butterbeer?" he inquired.
The waitress actually smirked.
"Yes – spiked with our very own aphrodisiac, hence the colour. Said to work wonders, according to the very positive feedback we've received so far."
She and her trays continued their route, leaving Harry to ponder whether he should consider aphrodisiacs as implements of the Dark Arts or not. He assumed that a certain amount was still within the wizarding law. A glance at his watch told him that he would soon have to return to Hogwarts. He therefore resumed his tour of Enchantments by deciding to get an impression of Wizard's Blizzards. Odd name, he thought, as he was greeted by another gate. He activated his pass-coin, was once again saluted by Beethoven's majestic tunes and scooped his coin from out of the basin on the other side. The room didn't look much different from the preceding one; but there were only wizards attending to the clients – very chic young wizards indeed, with black sparkly open robes and tight pants and tops of the same colour and texture. One of them, Harry noted with interest, was wearing an earring. He had seen plenty of wizards and Muggle men with earrings before, but this sighting reminded him that he would like to obtain an earring of his own one of these days. He would check with Dumbledore to be on the safe side – maybe an earring would be considered too provocative at Hogwarts. One never knew.
Most of the customers were men, and there were only about three or four witches present. Harry's attention was drawn by a few pictures on the walls. A wizard in a gilded frame flashed him a saucy smile and stuck his thumbs suggestively into the waistband of his tight black trousers. As Harry watched, he swayed his hips nonchalantly – what Harry himself had just pulled off on the stage of the karaoke hall was nothing compared to this.
"The aphrodisiac is in the other room, Cutie," he informed Harry, strategically tossing back his long hair. Harry actually blushed and avoided scanning the walls in case he was distracted again. He wondered if Dumbledore had had anything to do with decorating the interior of the room. So this was the wizarding equivalent of a Muggle gay bar, he supposed. He had never seen the inside of the latter, but now he had been fortunate enough to get a glimpse of the former. He could easily guess at the target clientele of Which Witch. He smiled. Tonks, a modern and open-minded witch, had definitely thought of everything.
There was a vast room further inside, shut away from Wizard's Blizzards, and a spacious part of it was dedicated to the reading pleasure of visitors from Which Witch and Wizard's Blizzards. Harry's jaw dropped. Gay wizarding and Muggle music…and quite a substantial amount of books. Harry grabbed one of the intriguing volumes and opened it.
It contained gay art by various wizards and witches. Harry spent a few minutes studying a beautiful picture of two wizards sitting serenely on a bench with their hands interlocked. A picture of a wizard combing another wizard's hair impressed him equally. Other pictures were sultrier, portraying same-sex couples in more intimate but very tastefully painted activities. He made a mental note to borrow the book the next time he visited the bar. Another book contained a compilation of essays on the rights of gay wizarding people through the centuries; and yet other books were works of fiction devoted to the subject of wizarding homosexuality; plays, novels, short stories, poetry etc. Next, he picked up a magazine entitled Witch-Watching. It was obviously for women, he decided after a few pages. There were interviews with famous lesbian witches and sections dealing with topics such as "coming-out of the week" or "bewitch your witch". Smiling, he tucked the magazine away in the rack and focused upon Wizard's Whims. According to this publication, homophobia was strong among wizarding people who considered themselves pureblood. There had, for instance, been an attack on a gay wizarding couple only two weeks ago. Fortunately, the couple had managed to Disapparate to safety, but not before they had identified one of their attackers as a "pure-blood". Harry's face was grave. He sat down in one of the chairs provided for reading and mused over his own sexual issues. When had it started? Or when had he noticed his attraction towards men? A secret crush on a fellow-student or someone in the year above him when he had been around seventeen; and when he had discovered himself looking at Remus Lupin in a way which could only be called "checking out someone", he had started to think. For now, it certainly did not seem likely that he would have twelve children in the so-called traditional manner. So far, he had been too busy getting rid of Voldemort to pay attention to his sexual identity. The only person he had kissed so far had been Cho Chang and it had led to nothing at all except for tears on her part and exasperation on his. He was wondering vaguely about what it would be like if he came out in a newspaper like The Daily Prophet and how people would react when the door opened to reveal a disquietingly familiar figure. Not again, Harry thought tiredly.
"Ah. Potter. Enjoying yourself, from the look of it." Snape's dark eyes lingered on the magazine and then moved on to the young man's flushing face.
"Well, I think I prefer wizards," Harry said candidly.
Snape raised an eyebrow.
"I am flattered that you feel obliged to voice your, ah, preferences to me. And I thank you most cordially for disrupting my peaceful evenings here, Potter."
"You're most welcome," Harry replied. "I'm sure you'd like to check out that book over there. It might stimulate you in your gloomy dungeons."
He pointed to the one with gay art. Snape went pale with anger.
"You rude impudent conceited-"
Harry missed the end of Snape's tirade as he slipped out of the media library and closed the door.
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