CHAPTER 13
After a particularly tiring day, Harry found himself sitting in front of a huge parcel containing the stuff fans had thrown onto the stage during his performance in the karaoke bar. It had been delivered by eight exhausted owls on Monday, and he had only managed to open it now. To his complete embarrassment, there was a lot of underwear in the box– men's and women's.
"What on earth," he said glumly to himself, holding up a lacy yellow bra with a broomstick pattern, "am I supposed to do with this?"
He dug around some more and extracted an odd object which looked like a hollowed-out banana.
"Huh? What the heck is this?"
He examined it from all angles, shaking his head. He would have to ask someone. He had never seen something like it before. He tucked it away in his pocket absent-mindedly and turned to the other items. Plenty of witch's robes and hats…shoes…squealing toys…Harry had no idea to do with it all. Perhaps he could donate it for some charitable purpose. On the other hand, who would want such underwear? See-through boxers…
"I thought that underwear was meant for covering," he said to Hedwig. The snowy owl hooted and continued eating a frog she had caught outside.
Harry finished exploring the parcel and decided to sort the articles according to type. The robes ended up in one pile, the underwear in another and whatever was not clothes in a third heap. Then, glancing at his watch, he left his rooms for dinner. He was still wondering what to do with the fans' contributions when he bumped into someone.
"Potter! Much as I would like to duel with you-"
"Sorry, Severus. Wasn't looking where I was going."
"That is stating the obvious," Snape replied coldly. Then, suddenly, an inexplicable smirk appeared on his face.
"You have dropped…something."
Harry realised that the weird fan-article he had stuffed into his pocket had fallen out. He bent and picked it up.
"Oh yes, that came along with the stuff the people at Enchantments threw onto the stage. I have no idea what it is. Do you?"
Snape looked as if he was actually about to…laugh. Harry blinked. Snape and laughing didn't suit. Not unless it was for some malicious purpose.
"My dear Potter…That object is supposed to increase the sensation of autoerotic stimulation. The one you are holding is specially designed for males."
Harry stared, then went very red indeed as Snape's words sank into him.
"You…you mean…this…" he stammered in shock.
"My, my, what touching naiveté," Snape murmured.
Harry glared at him.
"You can take this, if you want. You seem to know about what it does," he said very politely.
Snape's smirk disappeared. Before he could retort, Peeves came floating around them.
"Snape and Potter! What is Potter about to give Snape? OHHHH! POTTER IS GIVING SNAPE A …OH MY! NAUGHTY, NAUGHTY! HAHAHA! JUST WAIT UNTIL EVERYONE KNOWS!"
Peeves rushed away, bellowing the news. Snape was furious and Harry wanted to seek refuge in a mouse hole. It seemed as if their truce was about to crumble as quickly as the dominoes Harry had playfully knocked down.
"I…I'm so sorry," Harry muttered, hastily withdrawing his hand and thrusting the now identified object into his robes, "I didn't mean to embarrass you."
"Don't worry, Potter," Snape ground out through clenched teeth. "Your father and his gang made me get used to regular embarrassment from quite a young age onwards."
"Severus," Harry said, "I really am sorry."
Snape glowered at him.
"And I was actually thinking of donating this and the other stuff to some charitable institution."
Snape's expression was replaced by one of complete incredulity. His mouth twitched.
"What institution were you thinking of precisely, Potter?"
"Er…something to do with children…Where the material could be used to make new clothes…and…I thought this was a toy."
The Potions Master went into a long coughing spasm.
"Potter, it is a toy, but I can assure you that it was not designed for children's enjoyment."
"Yeah, well, I kind of figured that out with your input," Harry answered. Snape snorted disdainfully and went for dinner.
Students and teachers cast occasional glances at Snape and Harry. The former, in particular, were not at all discreet about it, elbowing and nudging each other. Peeves had done a good job. Finally, Dumbledore cleared his throat and addressed Harry:
"I believe you were or are carrying a dubious item on you, Harry?"
Snape, who was sitting on Dumbledore's other side, speared a piece of potato with unnecessary violence.
Harry launched into an explanation and was about to draw the offending object out of his robes when Dumbledore hastily stopped him with an alarmed look in his eyes.
"My dear boy, you had better not do so, especially not at table. I must say that it is a rather unique article, though. I suggest that you get rid of it as quickly as possible."
"I definitely will," Harry said grimly.
Snape banged his goblet down on the table with a bitter sneer.
Harry came to the conclusion to send the robes and underwear to a wizarding service which distributed used clothes to the more needy witches and wizards. He did the necessary, dispatching a neat parcel with Hedwig and three other owls. He forwarded the toys to George and Fred Weasley to modify for their joke shop. He did not dare include the questionable object which had caused him such mortification. Instead, he decided to take it with him to Hogsmeade and leave it clandestinely in The Three Broomsticks – which he managed to do on Saturday evening, a day before meeting up with Snape to discuss the last steps of organising the Duelling Club.
"The Hat should have put me in Slytherin after all," Harry breathed to himself after strengthening himself with Butterbeer and fleeing the pub before people could notice what he had "forgotten" – or that it was he who had "forgotten" something in the first place. He didn't have to search long until he discovered Skin Deep. Tattooing designs, piercing jewellery and close-ups of the artwork jumped up and down frantically in the window, simply yelling for attention. Harry summoned his Gryffindor courage and stepped into the shop. It was very large, with a big display room and more rooms further inside. A middle-aged wizard in neat sober blue robes greeted him.
"Do call me Mr Slasher," he said cheerfully as he and Harry shook hands; then, seeing the expression on Harry's face:
"That's only a nickname."
"I see. Well, pleased to meet you, Mr Slasher. I am Harry Potter."
Mr Slasher gasped.
"Merlin's tattoo! Harry Potter? The saviour of our kind? In my shop! Oh!" He seemed on the verge of an ecstatic collapse.
"Er…Thank you, I'm really just a wizard like everyone else."
"And so modest as well!" Mr Slasher gushed, sounding remarkably like Dobby. Then, pulling himself together, he asked:
"So, have you come here for a tattoo or a piercing, sir?"
"I am interested in a ear piercing."
"Which ear?"
"The right one," Harry said randomly.
""Type of jewellery?"
"A small stud. I see that you sell jewellery?"
"Oh yes, sir. Goblin-made silver, yellow gold, white gold and platinum." Mr Slasher suddenly became stern.
"Never use silver in a fresh piercing. Only in a healed one. Let me show you the jewellery which might suit you, Mr. Potter."
Mr Slasher produced a tape measure with strange symbols on it and measured Harry's ear. Then he stepped back and examined Harry's face and figure critically.
"Not very tall…slight build…thin face…green eyes…Hmmm…"
He motioned Harry to follow him. They spent a few minutes discussing the jewellery until Harry settled on a plain earring and a stud with an emerald in it to suit his eyes. Both were out of polished Goblin white gold.
"Wonderful, wonderful!" The wizard put aside the jewellery and led Harry to a separate room. A pair of gloves was summoned, and, instead of a gun or needle, a funny long metal instrument resembling a very fine probe.
"What is that?" Harry asked nervously.
"The tool with which to pierce your ear. No direct contact with the skin. Absolutely hygienic – charmed with a thorough Cleaning Spell and rubbed with Doxy-egg disinfectant. Consists of special steel to minimise allergy risks. Do you see this tip, sir? It emits the thinnest ray of extremely hot flame which will penetrate your earlobe."
"So, in other words, you are burning a hole into my ear?"
Mr Slasher beamed at him proudly.
"Yes indeed. No punching, poking, ripping and bloodshed! And…a special potion for you to numb the discomfort."
A spotless cup was levitated to Harry, who took it gingerly and swallowed the contents; and exactly ten minutes later, he left the shop, a huge grin plastered on his face, the emerald stud in his ear and an animated pamphlet on aftercare.
On Sunday evening, Harry was greeted icily by Snape. His black eyes lingered on his new earring.
"You like it? I got it done in a Skin Deep and-" Harry began, but Snape interrupted him:
"That garish tattooing and piercing parlour in Hogsmeade?"
"Yeah, that one. It's not garish. That's all art. And I'm interested in a tattoo."
"Potter, this fascination with self-mutilation is disquieting."
Harry was about to point out that Snape himself had a tattoo, but he didn't think it would be a good idea to remind him of it. He therefore remained quiet.
"Yes, yes, I also have a…tattoo, Potter. I am glad you are learning tact."
"Now, that is still a domain where you lack expertise, Severus," Harry said jokingly.
Snape's mouth thinned.
"Please step into the room, Potter, instead of hanging around the entrance. I see that you don't bother with proper attire anymore."
Harry had donned light-blue faded jeans and a black T-shirt which said: CHECK ME OUT AND CHECK ME IN.
"You still take the trouble to notice," Harry pointed out. Snape flushed slightly and turned his back on him.
"Let's get this over with, Potter."
He flipped back his hair and strode off.
He does have nice hair, now that he washes it in order to be sexier when trying to flirt with the wizards at Enchantments, Harry mused. And had to prevent himself from not stumbling. Snape. Sexy. Had the potion in Skin Deep been too strong for him?
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