Chapter 1

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"Arithmancy is such a fascinating subject!" Hermione enthused from behind a textbook so large that hid her entire upper body. "Professor Vector has promised us that this year we'll begin to study how the proper runes, with the aid of an invocation, can work together without the use of a wand to create the illusion of wandless magic..."

Ron cast Harry a pained glance and Harry grinned in response, shaking his head. It was their seventh year at Hogwarts and some things would never change.

"So," Ron cleared his throat loudly, interrupting Hermione. "What new subject did you pick up this year, Harry?"

"Oh yes, you had to pick up a new subject to fill your Divination spot, didn't you?" Hermione dropped the massive book into her lap and sniffed disdainfully. "Good on you for finally walking out of that ridiculous class. Honestly, if that woman is a prophet, then I'm a Krinkle-Horned Snorkak."

"Well," he said. "I put in a request for Muggle Studies. It's required for Aurors, and I figured I could use an easy course this year so I could concentrate on my NEWTs."

Hermione sighed, her mouth turning down at the edges. Harry knew the lecture by heart. Hermione wanted Harry to go to university, but Harry and Ron both wanted to become Aurors. Hermione was leaving to attend the School of Advanced Arithmatic and Runic Learning in Greece next year. She and Ron had had a great row that lasted half the summer about her moving so far away. Ron had reluctantly backed down in the end, but Harry knew it still bothered him.

"So, er... What time do you have Muggle Studies then?" Ron asked with an odd smile.

Harry glanced at him but Ron just shrugged sheepishly and looked away. Faintly intrigued by the strange display, Harry tore the ribbon from the roll of parchment containing his Seventh Year schedule. Unrolling the crisp, yellowish paper, he scanned the line of familiar courses; Potions, Transfiguration, Charms, until he found a new addition to the list. His eyes bulged from behind their round, plastic frames and his mouth fell open in shock.

"Sex Magic!" he shouted.

Several people in the Gryffindor common room jumped and turned around, seeking out the cause of the disruption. A few people close by gave him confused, yet slightly interested glances.

"What?" Hermione snapped, clearly disbelieving. "Let me see that."

Snatching the parchment out of Harry's nerveless fingers, she quickly scanned the page, her eyes widening.

"There's been some sort of mistake," Harry muttered dazedly.

He turned to Ron for support. Ron, however, was blushing furiously and avoiding his gaze. He couldn't have looked more guilty, and Harry knew at once that there had been no mistake.

"Ron..." he prodded in a low tone.

"Honestly, Harry! It wasn't my idea," Ron burst out.

"Ronald Weasley!" Hermione gasped.

"It was Fred and George, and I helped because... Well, because Harry, you haven't exactly had a girlfriend. Ever. And-"

"So you decided to enroll me in Sex Magic!" Harry shouted, astounded by Ron's peculiar logic.

"No!" Ron denied hotly. "No, that was all the their idea! They told me they were going to help you meet girls. I had no idea that this was what they meant! The two of them only owled me about the Sex Magic part before I left for school this morning, and by then it was too late to do anything about it!"

Harry, still dazzled from the news, only nodded in response. Hermione, however, wasn't about to let the subject go, and rounded on him.

"What, exactly, did you do to help those brothers of yours?"

Ron swallowed hard before answering, attempting to give her his best doe eyes while he was at it.

"I gave them one of the letters Harry had written me this summer. They said that they needed his signature. I asked them what for, but they only said not to worry, that they were going to help Harry get a girlfriend. I never thought they'd go this far, though!"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "The fact that it was the twins, and that they required a signature to procure Harry a girlfriend didn't raise a few alarms in that thick head of yours?"

"Oi!" Ron pouted.

"It's okay," Harry said quickly. "Ron, it's okay, really. Just another good prank by Fred and George, that's all. I'll go to McGonagall tomorrow and have her switch the class for Muggle Studies. No harm done."

When Hermione and Ron glanced at each other before turning to look anywhere but at him, his stomach lurched disturbingly.

"What?" he asked warily.

"Well," Hermione began, clearly uncomfortable. "You see, Harry, if they have your signature on the documents, you can't simply switch just like that."

"Why not? You did it! When you dropped out of Divination, you took up Arithmancy," he argued.

"Well, yes, but that was different. That class was purely elective, and I had more than enough classes to fulfill my requirement. But Sex Magic isn't even technically on the roster. You require the professor to sign a form in order to add or drop the class." Hermione explained.

"How do you know that?" Ron asked.

Hermione ignored him.

"You'll at least have to go the first day," she told Harry.

"So I'll go and ask the professor to allow me to drop their class. What could happen on the first day?" Harry sounded a bit desperate.

Hermione and Ron tried to nod encouragingly but did not end up being very convincing, and Harry began to feel increasingly anxious.

He drew his gaze away from his best friends to stare off into the empty fireplace. The warm familiarity of the common room did little to thaw the dread settling into an icy knot in the pit of his stomach.

Not only was Harry a virgin, he'd only ever kissed one girl. And that single kiss with Cho had been embarrassing, not to mention highly unenjoyable. After that singularly horrible experience he hadn't been very inclined to go searching for a girlfriend. Harry hadn't even really given sex that much thought. With schoolwork, Quidditch and trying to avoid the seemingly endless attempts on his life, he'd been extraordinarily busy these past six years.

It had seemed surreal when the news had come at the end of last year that Voldemort had disappeared once more. Harry felt a sense of foreboding at the lack of news that followed. He thought Voldemort was gathering power, forces, legions of loyal soldiers in order to come back and strike when least expected. After months of waiting, Harry was on edge. He woke up every morning wondering if that day would be the day.

He had thought that this year would provide a nice, mundane distraction. Now, however, with only a single kiss as experience he was being thrust into a highly powerful and sexual form of magic. He was expected to practice magic based on sexual experience he didn't even have.

Suddenly, Harry felt very ill.

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