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"Perhaps," Melina says softly, pulling back from their embrace as the morning light grows stronger through the hospital windows, "we should find somewhere more... private."
Harry glances around at the sleeping forms of the Weasleys and Charlie's team. "Yeah, probably not the best place for... well, anything really."
A small smile plays at Melina's lips. "Would you trust me to take you somewhere?"
"Always," Harry says without hesitation.
She takes his hand, and the familiar sensation of her transportation magic washes over him—blue motes of light swirling around them both. The hospital room fades, replaced by a bedroom that takes Harry's breath away.
They're in a spacious chamber with actual furniture rather than ruins or makeshift camps. A large bed dominates one wall, covered in soft linens that look impossibly clean for this war-torn world. Through tall windows, he can see a beach stretching endlessly, waves lapping at golden sand under a sky painted in eternal sunset hues.
"Where are we?" Harry asks, still marveling at the peaceful scene.
"My secret place," Melina admits, a hint of vulnerability in her voice. "I discovered it long ago, before... before I met you. When the burden of my purpose grew too heavy, I would come here to remember what peace felt like."
Harry turns to her, struck by the trust she's showing him. "You've never brought anyone here before?"
"Never." She meets his gaze steadily. "But with you, I find I want to share everything. Even the parts of myself I've kept hidden."
"It's beautiful," Harry said honestly. "Like you."
Melina smiled, a hint of vulnerability in her expression. "You've seen so little of me, yet you say such things."
"I've seen enough," Harry replied, crossing the space between them. He reached up to trace the scar over her closed left eye with gentle fingers. "I've seen your courage, your wisdom, your kindness."
Melina leaned into his touch. "I wasn't created for this, you know."
"For what?"
"For feeling. For wanting." Her golden eye met his green ones. "I was meant to guide, to serve a purpose greater than myself. Yet here I am, with desires I scarcely understand."
Harry's thumb brushed her cheek. "Everyone deserves to want things for themselves, Melina. Even you. Especially you."
Their lips met again, tentative at first, then with growing urgency. Harry's hands found her waist, pulling her closer as Melina's fingers tangled in his perpetually messy hair. Her lips were soft.
As the kiss deepened, Harry felt Melina's hands move to the front of his borrowed hospital shirt, fingers working at the buttons with determined focus. He broke the kiss, laughing softly against her mouth.
"In a hurry?" he teased.
"I've waited longer than you know," she replied, her voice containing a hint of playfulness.
Harry let her push the shirt from his shoulders, feeling unusually self-conscious as her golden eye took in his bare chest. The Lands Between had changed him—his body was lean but muscular now, bearing scars from countless battles. The Cursemark of Death stood out starkly against his skin, a constant reminder of what he'd endured.
Melina's fingers traced the mark with reverence. "Does it hurt?"
"Not now," Harry said honestly. "Not with you."
His hands moved to her dress, fumbling with unfamiliar fastenings. The garment seemed to have been designed specifically to frustrate would-be suitors, with hidden clasps and complicated ties. After a moment of struggling, Harry let out an exasperated laugh.
"Your medieval fashion is maddening," he complained. "Is this designed to preserve virtue by ensuring everyone gives up before getting anywhere?"
Melina's laughter was like music. "Perhaps that was once the intention." Her hands covered his, guiding them to the right places. "Here, and here. See? Not so difficult."
"Says the one who's worn it before," Harry grumbled, though his smile took any sting from the words.
With her guidance, the dress finally loosened. Melina stepped back slightly, letting it fall away with grace. Harry's breath caught in his throat as she stood before him in a simple shift of thin material that did little to conceal the curves beneath.
"Better?" she asked, a teasing lilt in her voice.
"Much," Harry managed, his mouth suddenly dry.
He reached for her again, drawing her into another kiss. This time, his hands explored more boldly, tracing the curves of her waist, the elegant line of her spine, the soft swells of her breasts through the thin fabric. Melina made a soft sound against his mouth—part surprise, part pleasure—that sent heat coursing through him.
Harry's lips left hers to trace a path along her jaw, down the column of her throat. Melina tilted her head back, giving him better access as her fingers gripped his shoulders. The shift slipped further down, revealing more of her pale skin to his eager exploration.
"Harry," she breathed as his hands cupped her breasts, thumbs brushing over sensitive peaks through the fabric. "Oh..."
Emboldened by her response, Harry gently guided her backward until her legs met the edge of the bed. With one swift motion, he lifted her shift over her head, leaving her gloriously bare before him. For a moment, he simply looked at her—the soft curves, the pale skin that seemed to glow in the golden light, the beautiful fullness of her breasts.
"You're perfect," he whispered with genuine awe.
A blush spread across Melina's cheeks and down her neck, disappearing between her breasts. "No one has ever looked at me the way you do."
"Then everyone else is blind," Harry replied, joining her on the bed.
He lowered his head to capture her lips again, then trailed kisses down her neck to her collarbone. His hands caressed her breasts, feeling their weight, learning what touches made her breath catch. When his lips replaced his fingers, Melina gasped, her back arching slightly off the bed.
"Harry!" His name became a plea as his tongue circled a sensitive peak before drawing it into his mouth. His hand attended to her other breast, ensuring neither was neglected.
Harry took his time, savoring every sound he drew from her, every tremor that passed through her body. He moved from one breast to the other, lavishing attention until Melina was writhing beneath him, her hands clutching at his shoulders, his hair, the bedcovers—anything to anchor herself against the sensations overwhelming her.
"Please," she whispered, though Harry suspected she didn't know exactly what she was asking for. "Please, Harry."
He smiled against her skin, pressing one last kiss to the valley between her breasts before continuing his journey downward. His lips traced patterns across her stomach, pausing to explore the sensitive spot just below her ribs that made her squirm. Lower still, he pressed reverent kisses to her hipbones, the inside of her thighs.
Melina's breath came faster now, her golden eye watching him with a mixture of anticipation and nervousness. Harry looked up, meeting her gaze as he settled between her legs.
"Trust me?" he asked softly.
She nodded, her lower lip caught between her teeth. "Always."
With that permission, Harry lowered his head. His first gentle kiss against her most intimate place drew a startled gasp from Melina. Her hands flew to his hair, not pulling away but not quite pulling him closer either—simply holding on as if afraid she might float away.
Harry explored slowly, learning what made her tremble, what made her moan, what made her whisper his name like a sacred incantation. When he found the sensitive bundle of nerves at her center, Melina's reaction was immediate and visceral—her back arched sharply, a cry escaping her lips.
"Oh! Harry... what—what are you doing to me?"
He didn't answer with words, only redoubled his efforts, using his tongue to draw patterns that had her writhing beneath him. One hand moved to grip her hip, steadying her, while the other joined his mouth in its intimate exploration. When he carefully slipped one finger inside her, Melina's response was electric.
"Harry!" His name was half-shout, half-plea. "Something's happening—I feel—I can't—"
"Let go," he murmured against her sensitive flesh. "I've got you. Let go."
Her release came with a shuddering cry that echoed through the chamber. Harry held her through it, gentling his touch but not stopping completely until the last tremors subsided. When he finally raised his head, the sight of Melina—flushed, breathless, looking at him with wonder—made his heart swell with emotions.
"What was that?" she asked when she could speak again, her voice slightly hoarse.
Harry moved up to lie beside her, brushing sweat-dampened hair from her forehead. "That was pleasure. Your body's natural response."
"I've never—" Melina shook her head, seemingly at a loss for words. "I didn't know it could feel like that."
Harry smiled, pressing a gentle kiss to her temple. "That's just the beginning."
Melina's expression shifted from dazed wonder to determination. Before Harry could react, she had pushed him onto his back, straddling his hips with newfound confidence.
"My turn," she declared, her golden eye alight with purpose.
Her hands explored his chest, tracing scars, mapping muscle, learning the contours of his body with the same focus she brought to all her endeavors. When her fingers reached the waistband of his trousers, Harry's breath hitched.
"You don't have to—" he began, but Melina silenced him with a finger to his lips.
"I want to," she said simply. "I want to give you what you gave me."
With Harry's guidance, she removed his remaining clothing, her eyes widening slightly at the sight of his arousal. For a moment, she seemed uncertain, but determination quickly replaced hesitation.
"Show me," she whispered, and Harry did—guiding her hand to wrap around him, showing her how to move, what pressure to use.
Melina was a quick study. Soon she was moving with confidence, watching Harry's face intently for reactions. When she lowered her head to replace her hand with her mouth, Harry couldn't contain a groan of surprise and pleasure.
"Melina—gods—" Harry gasps, the words escaping his lips without conscious thought.
The world narrows to this single moment, this incredible sensation. Harry's fingers thread through Melina's soft pink-red hair, feeling each silken strand against his calloused fingertips. He doesn't guide her movements—doesn't need to.
His eyes, half-lidded and heavy with desire, can't look away from the sight before him. Melina—his guide, his mentor, the mysterious woman who walked him through the horrors of the Lands Between—is now on her knees between his thighs, her golden eye occasionally flicking upward to gauge his reaction.
The wet heat of her mouth sends electric currents racing up his spine. Each movement of her tongue, each subtle shift in pressure, registers like a bolt of grace magic directly to his nervous system. Harry's breath comes in shallow pants, his chest rising and falling rapidly. The muscles in his abdomen tighten involuntarily with each downward motion of her head.
A coiling tension builds at the base of his spine, hot and urgent. The pressure is mounting too quickly, like a golden light expanding within him, threatening to burst. Harry can feel his heartbeat thundering in his ears, can feel the flush spreading across his chest and up his neck. His toes curl against the soft bedding beneath them.
"Wait," he manages to gasp out, the word strained and desperate. His fingers tighten slightly in her hair, not pulling but signaling. "Melina, wait—I'm going to—"
She pauses just long enough to look up at him, and the sight nearly undoes him completely. Her lips are wet and slightly swollen, a flush spreading across her pale cheeks. #
"Isn't that the point?" she asks, her voice husky in a way that sends a fresh wave of desire crashing through him.
Before Harry can form a coherent response—before his pleasure-addled brain can string together words in any sensible order—Melina returns to her task with renewed enthusiasm. The brief pause has done nothing to diminish the building pressure. If anything, the momentary reprieve has heightened his sensitivity.
Her tongue swirls around him with newfound confidence, tracing patterns that remind Harry absurdly of the golden grace spells he's learned to cast.
His fingers tighten in Melina's hair as his back arches involuntarily off the bed. A hoarse cry tears from his throat—a sound he barely recognizes as his own.
The release is cataclysmic, wave after wave of pleasure crashing through him. Each pulse feels like a heartbeat. Behind his closed eyelids, Harry sees bursts of golden light.
His awareness narrows to a pinpoint of pure sensation. Every nerve ending seems to fire simultaneously. The muscles in his thighs tremble, his breathing comes in ragged gasps, and still the pleasure continues, drawn out by Melina's ministrations.
Through it all, Harry is distantly aware of Melina's gaze on his face. When he manages to open his eyes, he finds her watching him with fascination, her golden eye wide and intent as she studies his expressions.
As the final pulses of pleasure subside, Harry's body gradually relaxes back into the bed. His fingers loosen in Melina's hair, gentling into a caress.
Melina finally moves, crawling up his body. She settles beside him, her head propped on one hand as she studies his face. Her lips curve into a satisfied smile, a hint of pride in her expression.
"Your essence..." she says, her voice thoughtful and slightly wondering, "it tastes of life itself."
Harry laughed breathlessly, pulling her into his arms. "That's not usually how people describe it."
"I'm not 'people,'" she reminded him, curling against his side. "I experience things differently."
They lay together in comfortable silence for a moment, Harry's fingers tracing idle patterns on her bare shoulder. Despite his recent release, he found himself hardening again as Melina's hand moved curiously over his chest, her leg draped over his.
"Again?" she asked, noting his renewed arousal with surprise.
Harry smiled, rolling them so she lay beneath him once more. "If you want."
"I do," she said with certainty, reaching up to touch his face. "I want everything with you, Harry."
Their lips met in a kiss that started gentle but quickly blazed into something more demanding. Harry positioned himself between her legs, the tip of his arousal pressing against her entrance. He paused there, searching her face.
"This might hurt," he warned. "The first time often does."
Melina nodded, her hands coming up to frame his face. "Pain is temporary. This moment is worth it."
With exquisite care, Harry began to push forward. Melina's breath caught, her fingers tightening on his shoulders as he entered her slowly, giving her body time to adjust to each new sensation. When he met resistance, he paused, pressing his forehead to hers.
"Ready?" he whispered.
At her nod, he pushed forward in one smooth motion, breaking through the barrier of her innocence. Melina gasped, her body tensing around him. Harry held perfectly still, pressing gentle kisses to her face, her eyelids, her lips.
"Breathe," he murmured. "It gets better, I promise."
Gradually, the tension left her body. Her golden eye, which had been tightly shut, opened to meet his gaze. "Move," she said softly. "Please."
Harry began to move with deliberate slowness, watching her face for any sign of discomfort. Soon, Melina's expression shifted from concentration to pleasure. Her hands moved restlessly over his back, urging him closer.
"More," she breathed. "Harry, more."
He obliged, deepening his thrusts while maintaining the measured pace. Melina's legs wrapped around his waist, changing the angle and drawing a mutual gasp of pleasure. They moved together.
"You feel amazing," Harry told her, his voice strained with the effort of maintaining control. "So perfect, Melina."
Her response was a moan that seemed to come from deep within her soul. Her body tightened around him as she approached her peak again, her movements becoming less coordinated, more instinctual.
"Harry—I'm—again—"
"Yes," he encouraged, shifting slightly to better stimulate her. "Let go. Come for me, Melina."
Her release washed over her with the force of a tidal wave, her body arching beneath him, her inner muscles clenching around him in rhythmic pulses. The sight and sensation were enough to trigger Harry's own climax. He buried himself deeply within her. Then, suddenly he was somewhere else, a golden haired woman wielding a golden hammer, smashing something that glinted.
The vision vanished as quickly as it had appeared, leaving Harry gasping as the last pulses of pleasure subsided. He carefully lowered himself to avoid crushing Melina, staying connected as they both struggled to catch their breath.
He carefully separated their bodies, drawing a small sound of loss from Melina. Rolling to his side, he pulled her close, pressing a kiss to her forehead. Melina seemed to not have noticed what he had seen.
They remained that way for several minutes, basking in the afterglow, before Melina's wandering hands found him hardening again. Her golden eye widened in surprise.
"Already?"
Harry grinned, a touch sheepish. "It seems my body is quite... responsive to you."
A mischievous smile spread across Melina's face. "Then we should make good use of that responsiveness."
With unexpected strength, she pushed him onto his back and straddled him. Harry's hands naturally found her hips as she positioned herself above him.
"Show me another way," she requested, her confidence growing with each new experience shared between them.
Harry's hands moved to guide her, helping her sink down onto him with a mutual groan of pleasure. This position allowed him to admire all of her—the graceful arch of her neck as she threw her head back, the perfect curves of her breasts, the contrast of her pale skin against his.
"Like this," he said, showing her how to move. "Find what feels good."
Melina experimented, rolling her hips, rising and falling, discovering angles and rhythms that sent pleasure cascading through both their bodies. Harry watched in awe as she took control of her pleasure, her inhibitions falling away with each passing moment.
His hands moved from her hips to her breasts, cupping and caressing, drawing gasps and moans from her lips. When he leaned up to capture a sensitive peak in his mouth, Melina cried out, her rhythm faltering momentarily before resuming with even greater enthusiasm.
"Harry!" His name became a mantra on her lips as she moved faster, chasing the pleasure they'd discovered together.
When her movements became erratic, Harry grasped her hips again, helping her maintain the rhythm. His own release was approaching rapidly, but he was determined to ensure hers came first. One hand slipped between them, finding the sensitive bundle of nerves that would send her over the edge.
The effect was immediate. Melina's back arched sharply, a cry torn from her throat as pleasure crashed through her. Harry followed moments later.
They collapsed together, a tangle of limbs and racing hearts. Melina curled against Harry's side, her head resting on his chest as they both struggled to regain their breath.
"That was..." She seemed at a loss for words.
"Yeah," Harry agreed, understanding completely.
They caught their breath after their mutual climax, Harry's seed still warm inside Melina, their bodies slick with sweat in the golden glow of the Erdtree's distant light filtering through the small window of her sanctuary in Limgrave. His cock remained hard, throbbing with unrelenting need. The air was thick with the musky scent of their sex, mingled with the faint wildflower aroma of the room, and their ragged breaths were the only sound in the quiet space.
Harry's green eyes darkened with renewed hunger as he looked at Melina, her pale skin flushed, her pink/red hair a messy cascade over her shoulder. She lay on her side, catching her breath, her full breasts rising and falling with each pant, but he wasn't done.
"Turn over," he murmured, his voice low and rough, carrying an edge of command that made her golden eye flicker with anticipation. He placed a hand on her hip, guiding her with firm but gentle pressure. "Get on yer hands and knees for me."
Melina complied without hesitation, a faint shiver running through her as she positioned herself on the fur-covered bed. She lowered herself onto her forearms, her back arching naturally, presenting her round, soft ass to him. Her thighs were still slick with their combined fluids, her pussy glistening, pink and swollen from their earlier fucking, a few drops of his cum leaking out and trailing down her inner thigh. The sight made Harry's cock twitch, a growl rumbling in his throat as he knelt behind her, his hands gripping her hips with possessive strength.
"You look amazing like this," he rasped, his thumbs digging into the soft flesh of her hips, hard enough to leave faint red marks but not to hurt. He leaned forward slightly, letting his hard, nine-inch cock brush against her ass, the tip smearing precum over her skin, teasing her entrance without entering yet. "Yer mine right now, Melina. Gonna make you feel every inch of me."
She moaned softly at his words, her head turning slightly to glance at him over her shoulder, her golden eye dark with lust. "Yes, Harry... please," she breathed, her voice trembling with need, pushing her hips back toward him in silent invitation. "Take me."
That was all the encouragement he needed. Harry aligned himself, the thick head of his cock nudging against her wet, waiting pussy. He pushed in slowly at first, savoring the way her tight heat stretched around him, her walls gripping him like a vice. "Ohh, fuck, so tight," he groaned, his voice rough as he slid deeper, inch by agonizing inch, until he was buried to the hilt, his pelvis flush against her ass. The sensation was overwhelming—her pussy was hot, slick with their earlier releases, and the angle let him feel every quiver of her inner muscles.
Melina let out a shuddering gasp, her fingers clawing at the furs beneath her. "Ahh, Harry... so deep," she moaned, her voice breaking on his name as her body adjusted to the fullness. Her thighs trembled slightly, and he could see the way her back arched further, instinctively seeking more of him, her ass pressing against his hips with each shaky breath.
He held still for a moment, letting her feel him, his hands sliding up from her hips to grip her waist, fingers splaying wide to hold her steady. Then he pulled out halfway, the drag of his cock against her slick walls making a wet, obscene sound that filled the room, before thrusting back in with a firm, deliberate stroke. "That's it, take it all," he growled, his tone laced with dominance, a command wrapped in desire. "Love seein' you like this, bent over fer me."
Her response was a desperate whimper, "Ohhh, yes, Harry!" as her body rocked forward with the force of his thrust, her breasts swaying beneath her, heavy and full. He set a rhythm, slow but hard at first, each thrust driving deep, the slap of his skin against her ass echoing softly in the small chamber. He watched, mesmerized, as her flesh jiggled with each impact, the sight fueling his need to dominate, to make her feel every bit of his power and desire.
"Feels good, don't it?" he said, his voice low and rough, leaning forward to press his chest against her back, his lips brushing the nape of her neck. He nipped at her skin, not hard enough to mark but enough to make her gasp, "Ahh!" as his hands slid around to grip her hips again, pulling her back to meet each thrust. "Tell me how much you want it, Melina. Tell me yer mine."
"I'm yours, Harry... ahh, I want it so much," she cried out, her voice trembling with submission and pleasure, her golden eye half-lidded as she surrendered to the sensation. Her pussy clenched around him, hot and wet, each thrust dragging out lewd, squelching sounds as his cock slid through the mess of their combined fluids. Her thighs quivered with every deep stroke, and he could feel her getting closer, her moans turning into desperate, breathy pleas. "Harder... ohh, please, harder!"
"You are Mine!" he grunted, his dominance flaring as he straightened up, gripping her hips tighter, his fingers digging into her soft flesh. He sped up, fucking her with raw intensity now, each thrust hard and fast, his cock slamming into her with punishing force. The bed creaked beneath them, the furs shifting with their movements, and the room filled with the rhythmic slap of skin on skin, punctuated by her sharp, stifled cries of "Haaarry! Ohh, yes!"
He reached forward with one hand, tangling his fingers in her pink/red hair, pulling just enough to tilt her head back, not to hurt but to assert control. "Look at you, takin' my cock so well," he growled, his voice thick with lust, watching her face contort with pleasure, her mouth open in a silent moan as he pounded into her. "Gonna make you cum so hard, luv. Gonna fill this pretty pussy again."
Her response was incoherent, a string of moans and gasps, "Ahh, ahh, Harry, I'm—ohh, I'm so close!" Her body tensed beneath him, her pussy tightening impossibly around his cock, gripping him like she never wanted to let go. He felt the telltale flutter of her walls, and with a few more brutal thrusts, driving as deep as he could, she shattered. "Haaarry! I'm cummin'!" she screamed, her voice raw and unrestrained, her body shuddering violently as her orgasm ripped through her. Her pussy spasmed around him, milking his cock with each pulse, hot and wet, her cum dripping down her thighs and onto the furs.
The tight, rhythmic clench of her orgasm pushed Harry over the edge. "Fuck, take it all, Melina," he snarled, his voice dripping with dominance as he slammed into her one last time, holding himself deep as he came. Thick ropes of cum shot into her, hot and forceful, mixing with his earlier load, filling her to the brim until it leaked out around his cock, trickling down her trembling thighs. His grip on her hips tightened, holding her in place as he rode out his release, each pulse of his cock making her whimper softly, "Ohh, so much..."
They stayed like that for a moment, panting, his cock still buried inside her, her body quivering beneath him. Harry's hands softened on her hips, thumbs rubbing gentle circles into her skin as the dominant edge faded, replaced by a protective tenderness. He leaned down, pressing a kiss to the back of her neck, tasting the salt of her sweat. "Are you feeling alright?" he murmured, his voice gentler now, checking in despite the intensity.
Melina nodded weakly, her golden eye half-closed as she caught her breath. "Yes... more than okay," she whispered, a small, satisfied smile on her lips. "That was... overwhelming, in the best way."
He chuckled softly, pulling out slowly, watching as more of his cum dripped from her swollen pussy, the sight making his still-hard cock twitch with lingering desire. He helped her collapse onto the bed, rolling her onto her side so he could lie beside her, their bodies slick and warm against each other.
"I never imagined," Melina said softly, her voice containing a note of wonder, "that physical connection could be like this. That I could feel so... whole."
Harry pressed a gentle kiss to her shoulder. "It's not just physical. You know that, right? What's between us—it's more."
She turned in his arms to face him, her expression tender. "I know. You've changed me, Harry Potter. Given me something I never thought possible."
"What's that?" he asked, brushing a strand of hair from her face.
"A self beyond my purpose," she replied simply. "A reason to exist that belongs to me alone.".
Their lips met in a kiss. When they separated, Melina's smile was radiant.
"We should return," she said reluctantly. "Your friends will be worried."
Harry sighed, knowing she was right but loath to leave this sanctuary they'd created together. "Will we be able to do this again? Or is this place only accessible occasionally?"
Melina's smile turned mischievous. "I can bring us here whenever you wish. Though perhaps not in the middle of important meetings or battles."
"Spoilsport," Harry teased, pressing one last kiss to her lips before sitting up. "How do we get back?"
"The same way we came," Melina replied, rising gracefully from the bed. "Though perhaps we should dress first."
They helped each other don their clothes, the process interrupted frequently by stolen kisses. When they were finally presentable, Melina took Harry's hands in hers.
"Ready?" she asked.
"With you? Always."
The now-familiar sensation of dissolving into blue light enveloped them. When the world solidified again, they stood in the Romanian hospital room. The morning was well advanced now, sunlight streaming through the windows. Arthur Weasley had woken and was stretching the kinks from his neck when he spotted them.
"Harry! There you are! And... Miss Melina, wasn't it? Where have you two been? We were getting worried."
Harry and Melina exchanged a glance.
"We were a bit busy," Harry replied, struggling to keep his expression neutral. "Important matters to discuss."
Arthur looked between them, clearly sensing he was missing something but too polite to press. "Well, as long as you're safe. Molly's gone to find tea, and Charlie seems to be improving nicely."
As if on cue, Charlie stirred in his bed, his eyes fluttering open. "Wha... where am I?"
Melina stepped back slightly as the Weasleys rushed to Charlie's bedside, giving Harry's hand one last squeeze before letting go.
This was just the beginning.
If you want to Read 11 More Chapters Right Now. Search 'patreon.com/AMagicWriter40' on Websearch