Despite their mini-row he wanted to be prepared for next Thursday. He already scoured the owl-order forms, but of course …those wouldn't be on there. They wouldn't mail that list to a Hogwarts Student, as Hermione said. Harder, was mustering up the courage to ask McGonagall to set up the Floo in Gryffindor tower for a night after last year's lockdowns to make a 'personal call.' A pre-made list of lies lay waiting for her, but thankfully, she only asked logistical questions. He sent the owl days ago, and here he was, minutes before two in the morning, waiting on his knees. A minute after the clock hit two, he threw in the powder and his top half crawled into the fire.

"George… hello, thanks for meeting me," he said sheepishly through the Floo.

"Harry! Blimey it's good to see you. At least you're not avoiding the entire Weasley family!"

At the very mention of 'the family' Harry wanted to pull out. It must have shown on his face.

"No one's blaming you for avoiding Ron, Harry. I avoid him all the time. So, what's bothering you?"

"Is this a bad time?" There was a woman's cloak on a chair, as well as stacks and stacks of unfilled order forms.

"What?" He looked around the room too, then waved a hand like it was nothing. "Noooo, not doing a thing tonight! Gotta have a break in there somewhere, so tell me, what can I help you with?"

"Are… are you alone?" Harry asked anxiously and George's eyes widened.

"Yes, of course." George got serious and stepped in closer to the fire. Harry wished he didn't.

"I… well… uhhh…" Harry stammered. The flames were not hot at all but he was boiling under embarrassment. "I was wondering… if you could… uh, well, it was rumored you have a book for…"

"Explosives?" George asked helpfully. "101 Dark-Adjacent magic that won't land you in Azkaban?" He got even closer and whispered, "a book on love potions? Or are you trying to revolt girls this year? I have products for that too. You could use a break."

"No!" Now Harry was even more uncomfortable. "There were… well, I heard there were quite a few books… you wouldn't share with Ron… but I was hoping you would… maybe… with me… well, I'm not family. I guess I am, but…"

"Go on, Harry. Out with it. I. Won't. Tell. A. Soul."

Harry squirmed in the fire. What If George literally told everyone?

"Uhhh, well, if you promise… I… I was hoping to get…" and he forced himself to look George directly in the eye which felt like a huge mistake. "That book about wand magic for… intimate…"

"OH! That book! Yeah, that book is GREAT!" George stood up immediately. "I get requests for that all the time. You can buy it in most bookstores, but blimey, people keep asking me for it. Too embarrassed to go buy it themselves. I keep having to buy more copies, I charge double now. "Accio- 500 Fabulous Fucking Spells!"

"What was that, George?" came a female voice from another room.

"Nothing Darling!"

George caught the large thick looking book, dusted it off and inspecting the cover thoughtfully. "There are some spells in here I wouldn't try Harry, you know, based on personal experience. I could notate them real quick if you like."

"NO!" Harry said a little more loudly than he meant to. "I have some common sense. I was thinking about trying more of the… basic and practical ones, anyway."

"Where's the FUN in that?" George asked the room at large. "I thought you were the adventurous type, you know, after the map and all."

"I am!" Harry said defensively. "But… just… you know, basics right now. Not basics," he shook his head, not wanting to sound that inexperienced. "But…"

"No need to go further, I goooot you. You want to heat up your cauldron before you start adding strange ingredients." He handed him the book through the Floo.

"Thanks," Harry said. "How much do I owe you?"

"Nothing at all, nothing at all. Happy to be of service. And you will be of service to all your future partners, it's a gift really, spreading knowledge." George said, nodding proudly. "Now," he clapped his hands. "I have some knowledge to spread right now. And do drop Ron an owl. If you don't send him one every two months he threatens he'll drop you for good. Don't think he's serious though."

"Oh… right. Well, thanks for the book."

"Anytime, and oh- write to mum."

"Uh… right. Bye now." Harry pulled out of the Floo, having the unfortunate thought of Mrs. Weasley as he stared at 500 Fabulous Fucking Spells.

The book was magnificent- a glittering full colored cover with expensive binding. Opening it, Harry got slapped in the face with full-page colored moving graphic renditions of each spell. It was informative as it was vivid: naked bodies gesturing sensually in warm inviting colors. The book emitted an aura of such promise and glory it practically glowed. Harry shut the book and the room got noticeably darker. He turned it over, shocked to see the price tag. It was an expensive book. He almost expected to see 'By Gilderoy Lockhart' there.

This was very stupid to peruse on a weekday, Harry thought as he reached the comfort of his own private quarters. He opened the book, making himself comfortable in the oversized chair, letting the full colored pages enchant him. Sure enough, the self-stroking spell with the varied pattern sat in the first 10 pages- a trusted staple of wizards everywhere. Each new page spoke to a new adventure.

There was an entire section for orifice creation: spells to put orifices into feet or a belly button. He flipped on and on, a new page, a new spell to put an orifice virtually anywhere you wanted on a body. Breasts spells for any gender, lactation spells for any gender, and a lengthy set of pages on creating atomically accurate Engorgement Charms for all areas. Of course, there were bondage spells, pain spells, pleasure spells, electrocution spells, and the pages got weirder as the book went on. Oh no- he asked for this! It seemed like all he really needed were the first 100 pages.


"Hey…" Harry breathed, greeted by Snape at the classroom door on Thursday at 8. He kissed him, hitching up his bag higher, watching Snape swipe a dozen or so more protections.

"Moaning Myrtle doesn't come in here ever, does she?"

"All private quarters have wards against ghosts, the dormitories do as well. She's had many victims." They walked together to the back room.

"Oh… that's good. Just the bathrooms, then? Odd choice."

Snape chuffed. He opened the second door for him and warded it behind them. "Are you still upset with me?" he asked in a joking manner.

"Yes," Harry said honestly.

"Pity. I was going to show you Enigma Magic today."

Harry's eyes popped and smiled widely. "Really?"

"Do you want water or tea? Or do you not trust me?"

"Whatever…" Harry said, throwing his bag down and sat on the couch. Unsure, Snape decided to make tea anyway and joined him. Harry tasted it, looking at it suspiciously while Snape watched him. It just tasted like tea, but it always tasted like tea. There had to be a simple spell that revealed a potion. He should ask Hermione. But if it's only the Draught of Connection, should he even care? Or is it the principle of being lied to?

"SO…" Harry said, putting his tea down, getting closer. "Enigma Magic."

"Are you sure you want to learn? You're poor at everything else."

"That's not true and you know it."

"I could teach you, but… you may be surprised it lacks every day uses…"

"I'm about to work with Robards and the other Aurors. If there are any ground breaking spells I'd like to know them."

"Sometimes basics are what works best, Potter. You've proven that. Expelliarmus performed 1000 times to perfection, second nature reflexes, will work better than a flashy Enigma spell only performed in practice situations."

"Please," Harry asked.

"If you're sure…" Snape turned and raised his wand thoughtfully.

"How many people know this spell?"

"Two. And one of them's dead."

"Oh? Who?" And Harry was getting excited knowing exactly what he was going to say.

"Albus Dumbledore."

Harry smiled wide. This must be really good magic.

"It's deceptively simple. Are you ready?"

"Yes!"

Snape pointed a wand at Harry's chest. He pulled something from him- a glowing round light emerged as if hidden inside his body, separating reluctantly like glue, fighting to stay inside. If Harry didn't know any better, his soul was being pulled out. He gaped. And although he didn't want him to, Snape pulled further, and the thing detached from his body altogether and it hung in the air, glowing radiantly.

"What… what is it?"

Snape didn't answer. He slowly… very carefully… put it back inside Harry, and it was happy to return.

"What… what was that!?" Harry repeated louder.

"Nothing dangerous… nothing spectacular… nothing the Dark Lord would want."

But Harry had seen this light before… from Dumbledore's Deluminator! "Do… do it again. It doesn't damage me by taking it out, does it?"

"… No."

"Okay then, do it again. I want to see."

And Snape pulled the orb out again. It hung in the air by itself looking beautiful and white. "Wow…" and Harry tried to touch it, but it didn't feel like anything. It was just… light. "I've seen this before."

"Really." Snape didn't sound surprised.

"What... what is it?" Again, Snape did not answer. "What is it used for? Ron… he left us in the woods last year… and he was able to find us again!" A flash of anger came across Snape's face at the mention of Ron abandoning them. "AND he was able to find us again!" Harry reiterated louder, "Using Dumbledore's Deluminator. So… what is it?"

"It's not magic I study," Snape's eyes glazed over. "Some say it's…" and his mouth did not want to form the word "-love… nor does it have to be romantic. Some say it is the heart."

"How could you pull it out?"

"It's not part of you," Snape explained. "It's part of me." Harry's brain whirled at this contradiction. "The running theory is that it's adjacent to the Patronus- similar."

Yes, that made sense. It glowed like a Patronus. "That's amazing! What does it do?"

"Do? It doesn't do anything, Potter. It's an Enigma."

"What?" Harry asked, disappointed.

"You asked me to teach it to you. I don't use it. I think it's worthless."

"It can't be worthless! Dumbledore taught it to you, didn't he? Stop being cagey- just tell me."

"…It can be used as a crude tracker," Snape admitted. "A Patronus can find you when it's cast. With this, you can track a loved one and go straight to them… under the right circumstances. It won't help you track Dark wizards, as you don't love them."

"Can… can I try?" Snape looked very weary.

After 30 minutes of failed attempts, much instruction, and the painful concentration similar to learning the Patronus the first time (thinking about the people he loved- his mum, dad, Lupin, Sirius, Hermione (not Ron- too complicated,) and Hagrid… a ball of light reluctantly fought its way out of Snape's upper body, clinging to him, unwanting to be disturbed. But Snape's orb wasn't white, or even bright. It was dark purple. It looked completely poisonous and ominous like Harry accidentally pulled out his soul to discover it was black.

"What does that mean?" Harry asked, apprehensive.

"No idea," Snape admitted, looking at the dark orb like this entire lesson was a horrible mistake.

"Oh." Harry said, putting it back slowly with his wand, like some door he shouldn't have opened. "Maybe it's baggage," Harry smiled uncomfortably. "Surprised mine isn't just as dark."

"No… I don't think so…" Snape said softly. "You never worked for the Dark Lord."

Harry felt like he was losing his mind. After seeing the purplish light that came out of Snape's torso, he was convinced the Half-Blood Prince must be strong as ever. Harry desperately tried to rationalize this poisonous looking revelation. Well, of course he'd been torn up in the war, playing a tightrope game with Voldemort and Dumbledore... As long as Snape was loyal to Hogwarts, it didn't matter how "pure" his light was, or whatever. For all he knew, it meant nothing. ...But deep down it felt like there must be a reason why it was dark purple and not white like his.

"It… it normally doesn't look like that," Snape said, looking honestly disturbed. Was this just an act?

The second step to this Enigma Magic was to pull it out of yourself. Harry spent the next hour unsuccessfully trying to pull out his own light. Snape insisted that it was not only possible, but necessary, in order to perform the tracking function. But Harry couldn't do it despite giving it all he had.

"...I'll try next week then," Harry said, thankful that Snape wasn't insulting his progress for once and then secretly wondered if he was even showing him how to do it right.

After being vague all evening, Snape finally touched on some previously unspoken points: "It is an un-doable spell, giving someone the ability to find you. You could try this spell with Miss Granger. I don't think your friendship will ever waiver. If she doesn't hear from you… she could find you… no matter the state your in."

Harry thought about this... it did seem like a good idea. But Ron would take it the wrong way. "Yeah, I'll think about that…" but now he was thinking about many things at once, all of them about him dying.

"Bathroom," he got up and went through the door in the back. Snape's forbidden bedroom was blanketed in darkness, right there, a room he was not invited into yet. Inside the small closet of a bathroom, he splashed water on his face.

He contemplated his life's twists and turns that brought him to this point, now pulling 'Dumbledore's Enigma Love Magic' out of Snape, or whatever the flying firebolt that meant. So… if he performed the entire process with Hermione, when he was an Auror and didn't come back from a mission, she could find him. But that was no good- what if there was a trap and they got her too? Privately, he'd rather risk Snape dying trying to retrieve his dead body than Hermione. Well, this was something new to think about. He counted his growing list of problems: Snape might be giving him a potion to strengthen their relationship prematurely. Who's going to have the honor of recovering his incapacitated body? Would Ron punch Harry if he exchanged glowing 'love orbs' with his girlfriend? And why was Snape's 'light' dark purple?

When Harry came back from the bathroom Snape was completely motionless on the couch, head down.

"This is colorful."

Rounding the corner of the couch, Harry froze. Snape had gone through his bag and was now reading 500 Fabulous Fucking Spells with his legs up on the coffee table. Moving between embarrassment and annoyance his bag was riffled through, his mouth twitched: "It's Required Reading for Slyffin-puffs."

"Oh?" Snape asked, flicking through page after page like he'd never seen it before. ...He'd never seen it before!

"Haven't read that one, sir?" Harry swelled, trying to keep his tone conversational.

"I've read others," Snape shrugged. "Not as colorful."

"It's the standard grade of spells now, I believe."

"So unoriginal…" His voice sounded sarcastic but he purposefully marked a page here and there with his wand. "I prefer to make my own."

Of course he did.

"Well, don't notate that one, I prefer it in new condition." But Snape continued to flick a mark here and a mark there. Harry wanted to know which ones he was flicking, but also terrified to know which ones were being flicked. Nervously helping himself to tea, he watched Snape go deeper and deeper into the weird pages, flicking less often but still flicking. "I… I haven't gotten that far yet, sir," Harry pointed out.

"Where are my manners!" and he snapped the book shut and threw it on the table where it gave a heavy clunk.

With a quick wand flick, Harry's body was summoned directly into him, and Snape caught his shoulders and brought him by the waist and attacking his jaw. He worked his way up and bit his cheek, twisting a little and pulling. Harry absolutely hated being pushed around but moaned anyways under the attention. His robes were being pulled off by greedy hands. "Why are all your clothes shit Potter," was whispered directly into his ear as a finger found its way through a hole in his T-shirt. But his shirt and its loose threads were soon forgotten for his neck, sucked and bitten, fingers digging into his sides.

"Stop…" Harry said, but he didn't stop. "Wait…" but he was still getting kissed and shirt lifted. Harry blasted a warning shot into his chest. "Not… not tonight."

Snape turned cold from the rejection.

"That was… heavy. You implied that spell would be useful to collect my dead body, or something. I'm not... We.. we can have a cuddle in a bit, yeah?"

"Do you want wine?" Snape asked, voice icy.

"You know what? Yes. Yes, I would."

A bottle flew to them and glasses poured, Harry relieved to have something to quiet his brain, still feeling overwhelmed by thoughts.

"Do… do you think I'm going to die?" Harry asked in the silence, knowing how stupid it sounded.

"I'm surprised you're not dead already."

"Yeah, yeah…" Harry sighed at the sarcasm and licked his lips.

"Why are you worried? You decided to become an Auror. There is no more dangerous job. It is what you wanted."

"… But what do you think?"

Snape seemed alarmed being asked his opinion on his career choice. "What does it matter what I think, Potter?" he asked with real heat in his voice.

"Because it does- don't be thick!"

"Well- you're reckless, aren't you?" Snape clenched his wine glass with his fist. "You're going to do whatever the blast you want. It fits! You'll run into danger every day to your hearts content. Your fa-"

"DON'T." Harry gave him a warning look.

Snape took a huge breath, restarting carefully. "…Everyone is proud of you, you've earned the right to choose. If you want to be an Auror, there is no better man for the job."

And although it may have been the nicest thing Snape ever said to him, it still didn't cancel out the first part. "So… you think I'm being reckless, do you?"

"It is not opinion- it is fact. But you knew that. It's you. So… do whatever you want," he spat.

"But what do you think?" Harry still was not getting the answer he wanted.

"USE YOUR WORDS, POTTER. What do you want me to say? That you're smart enough? No! More experienced people around you will ensure your safety. You act quickly in the moment, good reflexes- but you don't think through your actions."

"NO," Harry yelled over him. "What do YOU think about me being an Auror and… and… being gone for weeks with no contact or…"

"Oh…" Snape's voice got very quiet and very soft. "…I work here. I am gone 9 months out of the year…"

"But I know where you are…"

They both held their wine not talking.

"I don't want Hermione to find my body," Harry said bluntly. "Maybe… maybe Hagrid…"

"Do not give Hagrid the ability to find you. He will show up on your birthday at midnight while you're in your birthday suit. The cake he brought will be lit by the baby dragon he finally got clearance for. AND he brought the dragon along so it wouldn't be lonely."

Harry gave an uneasy laugh hearing the truth in the joke. But he couldn't look at Snape, only around the room. "You think I wouldn't be afraid of dying after… after everything. I'm really not afraid to die, not anymore but… it's hard not to question myself. But if I'm not an Auror, what else would I even do? I wouldn't mind taking more time off…but… what if I shut down again?"

This was a test, Harry thought. Could he handle a serious question or an ounce of intimacy without quipping or being an ass?

But the test was easily passed. They sat together close for 15 minutes in complete silence, allowing Harry to dwell in his dark thoughts, having the space to think. Harry eventually felt an arm around his waist. "Do you want anything…?" came a soft voice. "Subtle or strong- I have both. To organize your thoughts or clear them."

Harry shook his head. A hand slinked in his, a thumb gentle over the scars. "Are you alright with me working in a dangerous field?" Harry heard himself say the words he finally meant.

"Yes." They haven't discussed whether this was some affair or something deeper, but he got his answer.

And despite that he wasn't in the mood at all, he was being kissed lightly. And he received it, tea and wine forgotten, allowing the intimacy through his sorrow.

He didn't want Hermione to find his body.

He reached for Snape's robes, undoing the clasp, undoing every button by hand. And when he got to the shirt underneath, Snape seemed nervous, scared even, that his clothes were being removed under the premise of intimacy and not sex. And when the shirt buttons were almost done, he looked terrified.

"What, I saw your weird purple orb and now I can't see your body?"

Snape laughed shakily, tension easing. And as the touch continued, Snape reached for his own belt and undid the rest of his clothes, resigning to get this over with. Bare, Snape's heart pumped visually through his chest, face remaining placid. A sunken in chest, ribs, bad posture, skinny ankles, skinny everything, average parts.

"You're disappointed?" Snape smirked casually through his own embarrassment.

Harry stared, not sure what to say. There was nothing he could complain about without being a hypocrite. He was also too skinny until he spent months living in the woods. "I…" he didn't want to lie, "I'm here for the wandwork, sir."

"Glad to hear it," like a reflex, Snape covered his bottom half with his robes, unwilling to be naked for long.

"So…" Harry said between kisses. "Am I like, the third person to see your thighs, or what?"

Snape bit him hard for that. And it was Harry's turn, getting his clothes undone, being reached for, caressed. But in-between all the kissing and touching, his thoughts kept roaming back to the people he would leave behind if he died. A great feeling of helplessness overwhelmed him, mixing in with the intimacy.

I don't want Hermione to find my body. "Would you go with her?"

"What?" Snape breathed, focusing on removing the last of Harry's clothes, not registering this random question.

"Would you go with her to grab my body, If I'm missing or…"

Snape jumped a meter in the air, naked feet landing on the couch, struggling to cover his body with his robes like a blanket.

A bright white fox glowed beside them, illuminating the dark fire-lit room. "Sir," it spoke in Draco's voice. "Sir, do you have time? I can't get through the door."

In a literal second, Snape's clothes were on by magic, every button perfect, swishing out of the room. Harry felt a woosh and all his clothes forced themselves back on. The dishes flew to the sink with a clatter and Harry caught 500 Fabulous Fucking Spells as it slammed directly into his rib cage, followed by his sat there- stunned. Before he could even process these events, Snape's voice rang out in the adjacent classroom. "What happened, Draco?"

Harry skirted into the classroom too, holding his belongings. Draco looked beside himself, eyes red, robes ripped, and bleeding.

"If he dueled you, you should have shown NO MERCY."

"I… I can't… I couldn't… what if I killed him too?" Draco's voice cracked.

"Come… this way. Those will heal easily- you are not as badly hurt as you think you are," and he led Draco back into his chambers. But as they passed, Draco turned and looked in Harry's general direction, like he must be there. The moment passed and the door shut, leaving Harry alone in the classroom. He left.