Fifteen minutes later they were setting up beach chairs on the narrow stretch of sand and debris that could almost be called a beach. They'd lugged the chairs and a couple of towels down from the porch, Harry serving as towel boy—he'd draped one over each shoulder—while Snape carried the folding chairs. Harry wondered why he didn't simply conjure chairs out of driftwood or a dead fish or something, but then again, he didn't know how private their little strip of beach actually was. Of course, if he planned to do a Bubblehead charm on Harry, he could certainly risk a transformation or two. It wasn't worth asking, however. Snape would probably give him that look, the one that said "You cretin, isn't it obvious?" Harry, at Snape's instruction, had removed his trainers once they got the chairs set up but had waded into the shallow water on his own volition, pressing his toes into the pebbled bottom. The water was cool after the toasty sand and the midday sun was warming up his clothes and skin nicely.

"The water is shallow for five or six meters out but drops off sharply after that. You can swim?"

Harry nodded his head. "Yeah, the Weasley's taught me a couple years ago." He had learned from Ron and the twins two summers ago when he'd spent time at the Burrow after the Quidditch World Cup. He wasn't exactly as at home in the water as a fish, but he'd learned quickly to hold his breath, to tread water and to float, all skills necessary for survival when swimming with the Weasley brothers.

"You will need two charms. The first is the Bubblehead charm—it will give you an adequate air supply while you are submerged. The bubble will actually draw oxygen from the water as you breathe in it so there is no real limit on the length of time you can stay submerged. The second charm is a type of anti-buoyancy spell. It will keep you from floating to the surface for short periods of time—10 minutes or so. It is easily cancelled with a 'Finite' if you get into trouble and need to surface. You will surface at least every 10 minutes so I know you are not in danger."

He paused to make sure Harry understood the directions so far.

"What? What is it?" he asked, noting the expression on Harry's face.

"It's just…well, I had an idea last night, and I remembered this morning. It's a bit…different."

"Are you changing your shield material, perhaps from water to fire?" Snape asked with a raised eyebrow. "Because if you are, I can assure you we are in the wrong place to practice."

Harry rolled his eyes at the sarcasm.

"No, it's still water. It's just a different...liquid environment."

"Go on," answered Snape, folding his arms in front of him.

"Well, it was the water bed that did it," answered Harry, dancing around the topic, somewhat uncomfortable about the subject matter still. "I felt like I was floating. Then I turned on my side and kind of felt like I was in a cocoon. And that reminded me of a baby….an unborn baby, that is."

Harry saw both the surprise on Snape's face as well as the sudden gleam of interest in his eye. He tapped his fingers on his elbow, arms still folded, and stared at Harry.

"Well?" asked Harry. "Is it a stupid idea?" He hurried on not waiting for an answer. "I was thinking about a baby all tucked up inside its mother, floating in the amniotic fluid, which must be a kind of water. It's totally hidden! It doesn't have a real presence, does it? I'm not saying that it's not real…just that…"

"Slow down, Mr. Potter. Allow me a moment to consider."

Harry stopped rambling and looked expectantly at Snape, who stared at Harry a moment longer then looked over his head out to sea. Harry followed his gaze and saw a dozen or so seagulls diving and rising up again over the waves. At last Snape spoke, appearing almost to be talking to himself instead of conversing with Harry.

"It could work. It could work extremely well, in fact. The third element—the disappearance—may not even be needed. The mind of a foetus…" He paused, apparently realizing he was thinking out loud.

"Stay right here and wait for me. I'll need to wade in with you for this exercise to have the desired effect—just a simple variation on what I had planned."

He turned without another word and began to make his way across the sand to the stone stairs. Harry watched him go, wondering what had made Snape so intrigued. So Snape had to change into swimwear…the thought of Snape in a turn-of-the-century striped full body suit made him smile. He would have to work very hard to school his face if that happened—he was fully aware that traditional wizards sometimes dressed a bit old-fashioned. He removed his t-shirt while he waited, maneuvering his sore arm out carefully. Snape had rebandaged it just before they left the cottage and had then spelled the bandages to be waterproof. Dropping the shirt onto one of the chairs, we waded a bit further out then bent down and dipped his hand into the water, watching with fascination as the water seemed to part for his arm—in fact, it seemed as if there was a small force field around the skin, pushing the water out so it couldn't even touch him. That certainly wasn't how waterproofing worked in the Muggle world.

He spent several minutes dipping his arm in the water. As he reached for a stone in the shallows, he had a sudden flashback to his dream and how his scar had looked underwater. He felt vaguely disturbed, but a movement on the stairs alerted him to Snape's presence and he breathed a long sigh of relief to see that the professor wore knee-length swim shorts much like his own, though they were, of course, as black as most of his wardrobe. He was still wearing the same white button-down he'd had on all morning. Harry's eyes, however, were staring at the lower half of the professor while his brain repeated over and over "Legs .. Snape has legs…." The very small part of the leg Harry could see—from his knees to the top of Snape's back socks—was extremely white.

Snape stopped at the chairs and sat down to remove his shoes and socks.

Now Harry's brain had something new to focus on. "Feet feet Snape has feet," it declared. The feet were as white as the legs, but topped with such a thick mat of hair that Harry was reminded of Tolkien's Hobbits. He had read The Lord of the Rings the previous summer, finding the almost brand-new books in a charity bag Aunt Petunia had packed and left by the door. He suppressed a laugh with difficulty. He had a hard time seeing Snape as a Hobbit. Mr. Weasley, maybe. Dumbledore would be Gandalf, of course, and Voldemort Sauron….

His musings were interrupted by Snape standing up, wand in hand.

"Follow me," he ordered without preamble as he walked several paces into the water, not bothering to remove his shirt. Harry was not-so-secretly glad. He wondered if his eyes could stand the reflection of the sun off all that white skin. He followed the professor out several meters until the water came up over his knees and his swim shorts were getting wet. Snape, who had several inches on him. was still dry.

Snape eyed him speculatively for a moment. "This might be tricky so bear with me. In essence, I'll do a Bubblehead charm first, then encase the rest of you in a bubble filled with water to simulate the amniotic environment. I'll have to breach the second bubble temporarily so that it fills with water. You should then be able to float naturally slightly under the surface. Wade out a bit further—waist deep should do it." He waited while Harry resolutely trudged forward, a bit unsure about how this would turn out. "Good. Ready?"

"No—not yet!" said Harry, suddenly panicky. "Will I be able to get out when I want? What if something happens and I can't breathe?"

"Both valid questions," answered Snape. "You have your wand, yes?"

Harry patted the zippered pocket of his swim shorts. "Yeah, it's here."

"A simple 'Finite Encantatem' will end the bubble spells. Do not hesitate to use it for any reason whatsoever—if you have trouble breathing, if you begin to panic, if you become claustrophobic of if you see a shark."

"Hey!" said Harry. "Are there sharks around here?"

"No, just assuring myself that you are paying attention." He pointed his wand at Harry and produced a string of Latin that produced the desired bubble around Harry's head. His vision was slightly distorted by the curve of the bubble, but still clear. The bubble encased his head like the headpiece of a diving suit, but was flexible and felt like it was growing out of his neck instead of simply being attached to it. He reached up with his left hand to touch it. It felt satisfyingly slippery.

"Now you will have to submerse yourself," said Snape, taking two steps to get closer to Harry. Fold yourself up—grab the back of your legs behind your knees. You will not be able to straighten out fully until you end the spell but you should be able to move both your legs and arms somewhat. Can you reach your wand? Good. Don't worry about drifting—I will keep you within sight and in this general area, even when you are underwater." With that, he waved his wand and said "Rutilus Pardus" and smirked as Harry's formerly unobtrusive blue swim shorts turned a bright red.

"Ready?" With Harry's nod, he repeated the Bubblehead charm, but with a much broader sweep of his wand and a slightly different incantation.

Harry immediately felt himself rise to the top of the water in his new bubble. He listed over to his side and floated gently over on his back, finding that he had some control over the movement of the bubble. It was distinctly odd to bob around, though actually quite pleasant, especially when he remembered he didn't have to hold his breath and began to breathe freely again. The pleasant feeling did not last too long, for Snape breached the bubble slowly with his hand, keeping the hole open with his wrist and turning the bubble so the hole was underwater. Sea water began to flow in, surrounding him with an initial cold shock until his little capsule was full of water and began to slowly sink toward the shallow sea floor.

For a moment, Harry considered how ridiculous he must look, curled up inside a bubble of water with another bubble around his head. It would be a keen practical joke—if Snape were inclined to play practical jokes—to convince a student he had to become his barrier and watch him make a fool of himself standing under a waterfall (with the water ripping off his swim shorts, perhaps) or putting on a fire suit and running through flames (he then remembered that there are potions for that) or bobbing around the ocean in a simulated womb. But soon he forgot to think about such things as he looked out through his glasses, out through the bubble around his head, out through the bubble around his body and up at the sky beyond the surface of the ocean less than a meter above him. He could stare directly at the sun without even blinking, could no longer hear the wind or the waves, did not feel the salty air. He shifted to point his body downward, surprised to see a brown fish with dull blue fins dart by, but all was silent save an odd thrumming in his ears. The sea water that filled the bubble seemed to insulate him, buffering him from the full expression of his senses. He closed his eyes and pulled his legs tighter against his chest.

He could do this. He could lose himself in the sensation of being nothing, of being nowhere, of being protected and hidden and safe. Tonight, when he began his meditation, he could return here to this bubble, this womb, this cocoon. He turned to look upward again, wistfully wondering how much better his childhood might have been had he been able to occlude during those interminable hours spent in the cupboard under the stairs.