Entry tags:

creation: fic, rated: nc-17, rowaine

Happy Daft Day, bielol!
Recipient: bielol
Title: One Word Off
Author: rowaine
Rating: NC-17 (is there any other kind?)
Warning(s): *AU, EWE, hermaphrodite!Harry, character death - not Snape or Harry, and not-so-random Weasley bashing. Only some of them! *
Prompt/Summary: Original request at the end of the story.
A/N: I loved the scenario that bielol suggested, and have managed to include a few of her kinks to fit quite nicely with it. Hopefully she’ll approve. And a huge thank you to the mods for being so understanding as well -- moving really sucks, especially when you have a hard time locating everything afterwards (like power cords, keyboards, etc.)
Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling and her associates, lawyers, copyrights, etc. I make no money from the use of her characters – but quite a lot of satisfaction in picturing Harry bent over a desk deep in the dungeons, a scenario that JKR could never have gotten past the censors. Where her hands were tied, mine are free. I dedicate this smut to the goddess!

~ Part I ~

“Come on, Harry!” Ginny’s voice is shrill from having to repeat her request. “It’s one of the reasons why witches and wizards live so much longer than Muggles. If we don’t do it now, we won’t get another chance ‘til 2025, and by then we’ll be wrinkling.”

With a mental shake of his head, Harry Potter tried to wrap his mind around his girlfriend’s plan. As far as he could tell, there was some sort of ritual that only happened every twenty-five years that would lengthen a magical person’s life and rejuvenate their appearance, magic, and health. In theory, he could see how it would benefit many people. In practice, however, he didn’t see a reason for himself (or Ginny) to need to perform such a ritual just yet.

It was just another example of the differences between being raised in the magical versus muggle worlds. Ginny Weasley, born into and raised by a pureblood family, thought nothing of using magic for every little aspect of her life. She automatically looked for a spell to solve any problem, and frequently laughed at Harry when he chose a mundane way of doing things. And lately, the laughter had begun to sound less friendly, more mocking.

Using as much patience as he could muster, Harry calmly said, “Gin, I understand that this ritual is a big deal and all, but why not wait until the next go-round? I mean, we’re young and healthy already. What’s the point of going through some big production that isn’t even necessary yet?”

Tossing her hair back with a huff, the redhead’s temper was near to boiling. “You’re missing the whole point, Harry. It’s more of a ‘big deal’ than you seem to think. Everyone uses this ritual – it’s what keeps us young and attractive, what keeps our magic strong. You don’t choose not to do it just because you don’t need the extra help. Who’s to say that you won’t age quickly and your hair turn gray by your thirtieth birthday? I’m not willing to take that chance.”

Has she always been this shallow? Harry wondered, considering another side to his girlfriend. If she’s this concerned over appearances and trivialities now, it makes sense that she still sees me as The Boy Who Lived. There’s no way I want to spend the rest of my life living up to the sort of expectations everyone wants to pin on me because of that stupid title, especially not at home. Now… how do I break it off with her without causing a stampede of Weasleys to crush me?

Harry was so lost in thought that he missed the wand flick and muttered words of a quick Petrificus Totalis. A second spell followed before his rigid body could hit the floor, with Ginny’s Mobilicorpus leading him over to a low table. She took little care to place him gently, a fact that left him with one devil of a headache. Summoning charms flew around the room in fast progression. It was obvious from the speed of her preparations that Ginny had thought long about this ritual… and the probability that Harry would refuse to cooperate.

Well, I guess this answers my questions. If she’s this determined to use me for some ceremonial sacrifice, against my consent, there’s no way she wants ‘Just Harry’. As soon as I can figure out how to shake this petrify spell, I’ve got to go to the Burrow. There’s no way I want Molly and Ron to hear Gin’s side before mine.

“Veneficus deus, vita deus, nex deus, audite mihi quod tribuo meus requiro!

Iam est vicis pro resurrectio, pro vires.

Transfero vox illae vir ut mihi sic ego vires proventus meus alio vires.

Ut ego mos is, sic vadum is exsisto.”(1)

Every hair on Harry’s body stood on end. He could feel power, ancient power, being raised. The air seemed to vibrate with energy, and not all the good kind. Increasing his efforts to break the body bind, his mind sent a shaft of thought in the witch’s direction: “Something’s going wrong. You need to stop the ritual now!”

Ginny’s eyes narrowed in his direction, but that was her only reaction. Hands raised toward the heavens, head thrown back and hair trailing down to her waist, the witch repeated those words she had learned from her mother as a small child. Nothing and no one would stop her from fulfilling her earliest obsession of sharing the power of the Boy Who Lived. No one… especially Harry Potter.

After his first attempt, each of Harry’s thoughts bounced off a sturdy mental shield. And not that he wasn’t worried for himself – he most definitely was! – but Harry knew the spell wasn’t working properly. That much was evident from the beautiful, flame red hair he loved to run his fingers through, that now was turning into true flames. Panicking, Harry’s magic gave one great push and finally broke the spell. He couldn’t wait the usual few minutes to recover, immediately sitting up and moving in Ginny’s direction. Between the table and her position in the center of a blessed pentagram was less than three steps.

At the first step, her voice began to crack.

At the second step, so too did her skin.

By the time Harry took the final step and reached out to touch her, Ginevra Molly Weasley was a pillar of flame, her body slowly turning to ash. Harry tried to cast Aguamenti, hoping the flood of water would help, but the rush of liquid turned to steam before it could reach its destination. What had once been her fingers crumbled to the floor as she breathed her last breath, expelling a plume of fire any self-respecting dragon would be proud to take credit for.

Harry’s own breathing was labored as if he’d run a marathon; each inhalation was so very painful. Stomach churning with unfulfilled magic, he felt as if his internal organs were trying to rearrange. His initial reaction was to firecall Madame Pomfrey, but the large pile of ash was beyond even her prodigious medi-witchery.

Torn between dazed and desperate, he tossed a handful of floo powder into the fireplace and called out the first name he could think of that might help him deal with this horrid night’s events.

“Severus Snape, The Phoenix Nest!”



~ Part 2 ~

Life was good, Severus silently granted. Life was even better once the onerous duties of spying were over. And best of all, he was no longer responsible for teaching hundreds of brats anymore. An early retirement was the greatest gift he could ever have wished for… and surprisingly, it was granted without questions or complaints, along with his Order of Merlin, First Class. Having made his peace with Potter during the year prior to the final battles had certainly been worth the effort of holding in the more vitriolic comments.

As had become habit, he sat before the fireplace in his study, enjoying a snifter of fine brandy before dinner. He had a new scientific mystery novel that he was quite looking forward to, a warm room and comfortable chair, and no need to stay vigilant against wayward enemies or dangerous students. Hmm, perhaps the order of those adjectives should be reversed. Although, considering some of my former students, perhaps not, he chuckled at his own humor.

It was a quiet, solitary life that he now led. One that suited him well, and he intended to savor every moment.

Opening the cover of his new novel, he took a warming sip of his liquor and prepared to read a chapter or two before pausing for his evening meal. His fingers flipped to the first page, beyond the thank you’s, disclaimers, and gratuitous filler. The first chapter’s title caught his attention, and he leaned back into his beloved recliner to begin, only to be interrupted by the flare of green fire.

“Severus? Oh please be at home! Severus, something awful’s going on!”

With an eye roll and a sigh, he closed the book and leaned toward the fireplace to answer the Boy Who Lived to Make Snape’s Life More Complicated.

“Potter, what have you managed to get yourself into this time?”

“Please Severus, can you come through? I don’t know where to begin…”

The Potions Master made a show of reluctance, not expecting to have his acting skills appreciated. He wouldn’t admit to calling the famous Harry Potter a friend, not even under Veritaserum, but they had come to a sort of agreement during the young man’s training. And if, deep inside, Severus felt otherwise… well, it was no one’s business but his own.

Clearly calling out his destination, Severus stepped through the floo into a scene from a ‘B’-rated horror movie. Ritualistic symbols and accessories were strewn all around the room, a shivering wizard knelt on the floor beside a rather large pile of ash .

“Well Potter, would you care to explain what has the indomitable Boy Who Lived in such a lather?” he sneered. It was more out of habit, as Harry never reacted to his teacher’s snark anymore.

With a shaky hand, the younger man pointed behind him at the ashes. Tear stains glistened in the firelight from owlishly blinking eyes, eyes that couldn’t quite meet Snape’s stare. His voice barely a whisper, Harry tried to explain, “Ginny… she messed up the words… tried to warn her, tried to stop it… my own girlfriend petrified me! Gone, and how in Merlin’s name am I supposed to explain this to the Weasleys? Didn’t even bother letting me read up on the twice-damned ritual…”

After more than twenty years of espionage, Severus had become quite adept at sifting through the dribble to the important parts. This was fortunate for Harry, as the younger man’s babble made little sense. He was obviously too shaken to form coherent sentences.

Wide, trusting eyes finally found their focus. Harry dropped his mental shields and reached for the older man’s wand hand. “Easier this way.”

Severus caught the gasp of shock before it could escape. An Occlumens never encouraged anyone to sift through their mind, and after a very rocky start, Potter had become competent enough. The situation was looking more grim than he’d originally suspected.

With a silent Leglimens, he slipped into Harry’s unshielded mind to witness first-hand the events of the evening. This time, he didn’t bother holding in the surprise and dismay. The stupid cow! What a travesty she had attempted -- sullying one of the most honored rites in the magical world for her own personal gain. More worrying, however, were the possible consequences to the survivor.

As he ended the spell, Severus cast a medical charm to determine any adverse effects to his friend. With a grim look, he took a shuddering breath before releasing the charm.

“Potter… Harry, I need you to calm down,” he instructed, as he dug through his robes for the correct potion. “Take this, drink it all, while I summon some tea.”

Harry was not unfamiliar with the Potions Master’s less abrasive side. It was rarely seen, but certainly existed. He wasn’t accustomed to being on the receiving end though. Throwing the vile concoction down his throat, he shivered as his gag reflex tried to take over. Moments later, the potion did its work and his face turned to watch his friend’s nervous pacing.

“What Miss Weasley attempted, no magical person should be allowed to survive. That we no longer must worry about pursuing legal action is all to the good.” Severus was aware of how callous his words must sound, but found he couldn’t care less. “This ritual, whose formal name has been lost to time, is so… deeply spiritual to most of us that to force another into sharing their power is tantamount to magical rape. Do you understand this, Harry?”

When Potter nodded his head, it was done with a great deal of weariness. Even without a thorough background to the rite, he had understood at some level how very wrong Ginny was to attempt it without his permission.

“Good.” Snape drew in a breath, then continued, “By breaking through her Petrificus, you interrupted the ritual’s cadence. This is both good and… unfortunate. Your magical core is uninterrupted, but certain changes are taking place in your physical body. At this point, I feel it safe to say that you have absorbed Miss Weasley’s power, as well as certain physical attributes she had.”

The burning in his abdomen confirmed this. Harry was definitely aware of his body’s attempts at rearranging itself.

“There are only two options that I can offer you with any degree of certainty.” Severus waited until the younger man returned his gaze. “First, you can lock yourself into your home until the changes are complete, ensuring that no one has sufficient contact to finish the ritual while you are in a state of flux.”

That option didn’t sound like something Harry wanted to take. He was used to hiding from the mobs of people who wanted his autograph, his opinions on ‘insert subject here’, and even chunks of his hair. Keeping himself imprisoned for an indefinite period of time, however, was not on his to-do list. His voice cracked as he asked, “And what’s behind Door Number Two?”

If Severus caught the pop culture reference, he let it slide. “Your second option is a bit more difficult. You will need to locate someone with sympathetic magic to complete the ritual.”

Harry’s mood perked up. “How hard can that be? I’ve got several friends who would be willing-”

“Sympathetic magic is not that common, Potter. There is a reason this rite is considered sacred. Finding a person with whom your magic can be shared is rare.”

Regardless of Severus’ warning, Harry latched onto the possibility. He also remembered how his magic blended with his teacher’s during that final year of training. A gleam in his eye, Harry found the courage to ask, “Another case where I’ve got more blind luck, isn’t it? Severus, you could help me complete the ritual, the way it was meant to be done. Will you, please? Don’t leave me like this.”

It was tempting, he had to admit. The thought of sharing in the magical world’s savior’s power… Not to mention his long-buried respect for the younger man. But whatever the public thought of him, Severus Snape was an ethical man. “You don’t know what you’re asking, Potter. The intimacy involved must include trust, deep feelings, and a… physical aspect. Surely you won’t-”

“Won’t what? Won’t want to wait around, hoping to find someone else whose magic meshes with mine while I’m locked inside my own home?” Harry breathed through his nose, exhaled through his mouth, and forced his voice to sound more calm. “I trust you, have done for years. And I do care about you, like you do me when you aren’t reverting back to the sarcastic bat of Hogwarts’ dungeons. The physical aspect -- you’re talking about sex, right? So we’re both guys, so what?”

Well, Merlin knows I tried to talk him out of it. Severus’ inner Slytherin smirked. He may not have tried terribly hard, but he was content with the end results.

~ * ~

“Veneficus deus, vita deus, nex deus, audite mihi quod tribuo meus requestio!

Iam est vicis pro resurrectio , pro vires.

Transfero Share vox illae vir ut mihi sic ego vires proventus meus alio vires our strength.

Ut ego mos is, sic vadum is exsisto.”(1)

Two voices, nearly hoarse with effort, chanted out the final lines of the ritual. A glowing cone of magical power surrounded them, waiting for the final command to direct it into place. The charade of Ginny Weasley’s attempts had been cleaned with little thought to the recently deceased; in its place were a few simple candles, several throw pillows, and the two wizards sitting among them. That they were both naked was of little importance. That they were both naked and visibly erect from the combined force of their magic was a point for future discussion.

“Harry, we can still stop this. I will personally see to the Notice-Me-Not charms on your home.”

“Forget it, Severus. I can’t think of anyone else who has pulled my arse out of the fire as often as you. If you’re asking me to wait around for someone I trust more, you’ve clearly lost the plot on this one.” With a wicked gleam in his eye, Harry leaned forward and grasped the older man’s cock. “You know what to do with this, right?”

The gauntlet thrown, Severus gave up. His conscience was satisfied enough.

“Very well, Mr. Potter. Assume the position.”

Laughing, Harry laid back on the pillows and stretched his legs, letting them fall apart. He watched Severus retrieve a vial of lubricating potion from his robes with heated eyes. Whether his current arousal was from the ritual’s power or some long-buried feelings for the man, he couldn’t say. All he knew was that his body wanted the dark wizard, craved it at the most basic level. Huh, sympathetic magic. Why wasn’t this taught in school?

Severus crawled the few feet toward his… friend, lover. Luminescent green eyes followed his every move. A gentle cleansing spell aimed at the appropriate orifice caused the younger man to quiver, making Harry’s nipples peak and his eager young prick bounce against his belly.

“Here is where I am supposed to ask if you’ve ever done this before,” he asked with a smirk. “However, I find myself not wanting to know if you’ve been had by another wizard.”

Harry blushed lightly, his eyes breaking contact. “I know what’s going on, but not from first-hand experience. Just from the guys in my dorm, talking after hours.”

Severus chose to believe the implied statement. While it would be easier for Harry to have bottomed before, Severus preferred to think that he would be the young man’s first.

Long fingers opened the vial, spreading the lubricant thickly, before they sought Harry’s crease. As he glanced down to watch their progress, Severus noticed the newly acquired slit -- verifiable proof of Miss Weasley’s transferred aspects. He was briefly tempted to explore there as well, but held back. Something in his expression gave away his thoughts.

“It’s alright, Severus,” Harry’s voice was husky. “Things are different in the magical world, I know. As long as I never need to wear a bra, and this isn’t a one-off, and there’s probably some way to get rid of it later…”

Permission granted, Severus let his free hand move to the thin ‘lips’ between Harry’s balls and arse. A faint line of moisture trickled from between them, and he slid a finger just inside to gather the fluid. Raising it to his lips, Severus moaned outloud at the almost sweet flavor. His eyes, half slitted in pleasure, widened as Harry copied his motions.

“Mmm, I taste pretty good!” Sucking the last drops off his finger, Harry grinned. “Feels pretty fantastic too.”

Severus had to agree. He had never personally had any experience with a hermaphrodite, magically created or natural, but he was quite curious now.

“Perhaps we might-”

“Severus, you’ve got two fingers up my arse, and another two diddling my fanny. I’m fairly sure you can stop being so proper.”

Instead of a snappy comment, the Potions Master lowered his face between Harry’s legs and rubbed his prodigious nose against the young man’s testicles, pushing his sharp tongue into the tempting slit. Harry cried out in surprised pleasure, his hands reaching to hold Severus’ head in place.

“Oh yeah, definitely going to keep this around for awhile,” he moaned. “Pity you don’t have two pricks, then you could fill me everywhere at once.”

The idea brought images to Severus’ mind, and he made a mental note to experiment in his lab. Later. For now, he had a savior to ravish.

Several intense minutes later, he deemed Harry to be sufficiently prepared. “You have two choices, Mr. Potter. Which orifice would you like to have filled first?”

With a decadent groan, Harry pushed down against the fingers still inside him. “You’re evil, you know that, right? Making me choose…” Another panted moan. “I want it all, Severus. Take your pick, but save enough to share, yeah?”

Slowly climbing up the young, toned body, Severus made sure to rub as much skin to skin as possible. Especially when his impatient cock nestled in the warm, moist juncture of Harry’s groin. The built-up power of the ritual was one cause for their interest, certainly, but he knew his own body’s reactions well enough by now. An intense, recently recognized current of attraction flowed between the two wizards.

On impulse, he lowered his lips to Harry’s, initiating their first kiss. There was nothing hesitant about it, unlike most first times. Severus’ mouth opened against the dark pink lips, pushing his tongue in to fervently duel with Harry’s. Hands crept around his shoulders, holding them together.

As Harry’s surprise lessened, he felt the broad head of Severus’ cock slide up and down his new organ. Throwing his legs farther apart, he pushed up to meet the hot length. “Yesss!”

Severus held completely still, waiting for his lover to become accustomed to the sensation of being penetrated. He’d never had a virgin -- witch or wizard -- but he certainly remembered all the horrid euphemisms for this act, as well as the probable pain of it. “Slow down, Harry. This might hurt a bit.”

Disregarding the warning, Harry shoved his hips up again, forcing Severus to impale him. The slight twinge of his hymen breaking barely registered, as the emptiness he felt was relieved in a most satisfactory way. He canted his hips a few times, trying to establish a rhythm, but without his lover’s cooperation it merely made things worse.

“Severus, please!” he whined in frustration.

“Such quick recovery should be rewarded,” the older wizard snipped, leisurely drawing back and sliding forward. He relished Harry’s moan of pleasure, but kept the pace of his thrusts slow and steady. Soon enough, Harry’s body began to tremble, arching up to meet Severus’ hips. “That’s it, bring yourself off, Harry. I want to feel you come apart around me.”

Those words were enough. Fireworks exploded behind green eyes as the slow build-up of orgasm radiated sparks from Harry’s toes to his eyebrows. It felt so different! Maybe not as powerful, but definitely longer lasting. Finally, the quakes stopped… although he felt certain that they could be restarted with little effort. But first, his lover needed some satisfaction.

“One down,” he grinned. “Care to try the other hole now?”

Every tiny bit of Severus’ renowned self-control was needed during Harry’s climax. Only the images he’d forced himself to recall kept him from joining the young man in orgasm. Luckily, he had one very reliable memory that worked to temper his arousal every time: Headmaster Dumbledore’s skinny, hairy arse as the barmy old wizard pumped into Minnie McGonnigal’s dry pussy. Shuddering away the awful image, Severus once more found the vial of lubricant and renewed the slickness to Harry’s arse.

“Remember to breathe evenly, and push against me,” he instructed. Using steady force, Severus pushed his cock through the guardian ring of muscle. The tightness was nearly enough to cross his eyes. “Relax, Potter!”

Huffing as he tried to follow orders, Harry groused, “I am relaxing, Snape! You feel like a bloody bludger trying to nest in my bum.”

Severus bit his tongue to keep from making a nasty comment. It just wasn’t polite to insult the person whose body you were using. Instead, he changed his angle a bit, and nearly crowed in smug satisfaction when the brat’s newest complaint was forced into a loud moan. “I see you remember your prostate now.”

“Oh yeah. Say hi, Mr. Joy Buzzer!” Harry’s voice sounded off, as if he’d partaken of some quality drugs. “Please continue, Sev’rus.”

Fully seated inside the tightest, hottest arse it had been his pleasure to ‘meet’, Severus took a moment to commit the feeling to memory. Who knew, after all, if he would be invited to enjoy Harry’s favors again? His intention was to keep the encounter slow and steady, as with the young man’s cunny. In reality… Harry’s impatience met with his cock’s need and made another decision. His thrusts lengthened, gaining in speed and force until both men cried out from the exquisite agony of pleasure. Severus knew he wouldn’t last long, but damned if he’d go off before making Harry come again.

Soon enough, he felt the young body begin to shake once more. Severus threw his back into it, bottoming out on each thrust. As Harry’s moans took on a higher pitch, Severus let go of his control. Within seconds of each other, the wizards shared an earth-shattering climax.

The culmination of the ritual finally had its answer, but neither man was conscious long enough to find out what it might be.

~ * ~

Bright morning sunshine filtered in through the gauzy curtains, forcing Harry awake before he was quite ready. He didn’t often fall asleep out of his bedroom, but couldn’t remember drinking the previous night. For the first few minutes, he couldn’t really remember much of anything…

“Severus!”

A mumbled groan that sounded suspiciously like, “Shaddup, y’moron, ‘m tryin’ a sleep,” was the immediate response.

“Severus, wake up,” Harry begged. His eyes were too blurry to see much of his friend, but it was obvious that neither of them had clothes on. Dribbles of memories began to return, causing two reactions. Harry blushed, violently and with great eloquence. Harry’s prick went from half-mast to achingly hard. He wasn’t sure which to be more embarrassed about.

A long arm flopped over Severus’ face, trying to keep the damned sun from dragging him into the world of perky morning people. But something about the voice (that refused to stop nagging him) sounded so fraught with panic that his mind latched on. Eyes squinting against the cursed light, he turned his head toward the voice. Ah, Harry Potter. Harry of the deliciously tight arse. Harry of the equally delightful cunny. Mustn’t let the brat go without another round.

Sleepily slinging a leg across his lover, Severus leaned in for a deep kiss. His aim: to prevent a panic attack by distraction, and if necessary, to ‘play dumb’ until he got what they both wanted. Halfway through the first kiss, he discovered that he’d finally found a way to shut Harry-bloody-Potter up. Halfway through the third kiss, he forgot the why, how, and where of his original objective. ‘Who’ was obvious enough, and his lips spoke the name with near reverence.

“Mmm, Severus, what a way to wake up.” Harry’s nose snuggled into the long hair of his lover, shyly hiding as he asked, “Any regrets?”

Such a straight-forward question, with a myriad of answers to choose from. Severus contented himself with the easiest, “None from my end. And yours?”

“Can’t think of any.” Harry’s lips brushed against Snape’s ear, which was apparently linked directly to his prick. “How ‘bout we start the day off right, hmm?”

His smirk precariously close to a real smile, Severus slithered onto his lover, enjoying the firm planes and soft scratchings of hair in hedonistic pleasure. The following repeat was as satisfying as the night before.

Their breath evening out, Harry finally remembered to ask, “So, you mentioned that there’s always some kind of perks with this ritual. Care to name a few?”

Severus had to laugh. “Oh, anything from a telepathic connection to male pregnancy. The stronger the partners, the more powerful the magic. And with magic, anything can happen.”

Harry’s jaw hit the floor, his face going pale. “You’re having me on,” he whispered the plea.

“Actually, yes. It’s a damned good thing you aren’t as gullible now as you were at eleven, Potter,” Severus scoffed. “Really, men getting pregnant? How absurd. The strangest thing you can hope for, that I am aware of, is a long and happy lifetime with your magical core bonded to mine.”

“Oh, alright then. Good.”

The thud of Harry’s head hitting the pillow caused Snape to laugh ‘til his sides ached.


Fin

~ * ~


Olimpia’s request, kinks, and squicks:

Kinks: crossdressing Harry, courting and seduction, bonding [forced or with long wizarding sex customs ;)], creature fics, hermaphrodite!Harry, angst, happy ending, wall!sex, desk!sex, semi-public sex, shy!Harry, underage (15+) or mature Harry

Squicks: heavy violence, rape, dub con, mpreg, torture, infidelity, heavy BDSM, chan (under 15), body fluids (blood, bodily waste, copious amounts of semen), very girly!Harry [hermaphrodite or yaoi uke is fine], if you want to kill please kill Ginny because I can't stand this girl

(Optional) Scenario or plot device:

1. As we know wizards live very long but a reason for it is that in every 20 [or 25] years they go through a series of sex rituals to distribute accumulated power. Cells infused with that power are younger and life is prolonged ;) There is one small problem - you have to do it with compatible person [may be sympathetic magic or something else]



God of Magic, God of Life, God of Death, hear me and grant my demands!

Now is the time for renewal, for strength.

Transfer the power of this man to me so I might increase my personal strength.

As I will it, so mote it be.

(2)