Title: Harry Potter And The Special Lesson
Author: MidKnight
Email: MidKnightslair@juno.com
"Now," Albus Dumbledore began at the pre-school year staff meeting. "We will have a new wave of Fifth Years at Hogwarts this year. I'm sure you know what this means." A few teachers nodded, a few others's ears turned bright red. "Good. Now for the selection of the teachers responsible for heading these, er, Special Classes; We will have one teacher for the girls and another for the boys, if you'll separate yourselves and begin to draw straws."
Professor Severus Snape grumbled under his breath as he was herded into line behind Flitwick, who was holding several good luck charms. Snape sighed, wondering if Flitwick was trying to get the specialty class job or trying to avoid it, and then decided he'd rather not ask and find out the small man wanted the job. He pulled a straw from Dumbledore's hand and didn't even look at it before returning to his seat.
"Oh, no!" Madame Hooch cried from across the room, realizing she'd drawn the short straw. McGonogal hid a laugh behind her hand and the other female teachers silently congratulated themselves on not getting chosen. He spared a glance towards his own straw.
No.
No.
No.
This was not happening to him. He was not going to do it. He looked up to see Dumbledore staring at him, not hiding his mischievous smile. Snape had the sudden urge to go distil something in the Dungeon, that was not a potion or drought, but rather alcoholic.
******************************
"Say, Ron, did you hear?" Hermione asked over the formal first evening back at Hogwarts dinner.
"Hear what?" Harry leaned in to hear it too.
"We've got a special class this year."
"That's it? A new class? I thought it was something important." Harry choked back a laugh at Ron's dumfounded look and Hermione's glare.
"It is important." Fred said from down the table, laughing.
"What is it?" Harry asked.
"Not our job to tell you." George answered.
"Well, who's teaching it?" Ron asked. "Maybe we can figure out what kind of class it is from that."
"I've got Madame Hooch, but the boys have Professor Snape." She replied.
Ron and Harry shared a look as Percy, George, and Fred all burst into laughter. They had a sudden feeling of foreboding of how bad the class could be.
If they'd only known the topic of the class, they would have felt even worse.
************************************
Harry and Ron were sat next to each other in the cold, damp dungeon, waiting for Professor Snape to arrive. The entire class was humming with tension because nobody knew what was going on. Not even Draco Malfoy, who always seemed to be the teacher's pet.
Reminiscent of their first class Snape threw the door open and stormed in, though there were no impressive words to stun and amaze the students. In fact, to Harry's sharp eyes, the Professor looked like he'd rather be anywhere but here.
"Well, er, yes." Snape started out, turning an attractive shade of pink. "This is your special fifth year." He turned even redder. "Erm.As fifth years Dumbledore expects you to have certain amount of, er, maturity which leads to hormones and such."
The sinking feeling returned in earnest to Harry's stomach and he spared a bewildered glace to Ron, who also looked startled.
"Be that as it may." Snape's were now tipped in glaring white while everything else above the collar was a brilliant maroon. "Welcome to your Sex Ed class."
************************************
Two very shell-shocked students wandered into the commons room hours later, their eyes immediately connecting with a rather ruffled looking Hermione. A look of knowing passed between the three and they shuddered, before settling down in front of the roaring fire.
"How was.Uh, your class?" Hermione asked timidly.
"I feel dirty." Ron responded, shuddering again. "I mean, Snape.Ug."
"You?" Harry asked.
"She kept using Quiddich metaphors. 'Well girls, you just put the broomstick through the Quiddich hoop.'" Hermione answered.
*********************************
Professor Snape slipped into the teacher’s lounge fighting full body shudders and failing miserably. Another figure was seated across the room, in front of the fireplace, looking rather ruffled. They shared a knowing look before he seated himself beside the Quiddich Teacher.
“How did your class go?” he asked.
“I had Granger.” They shared a haunted look.
“How many questions did she ask?”
“Too many.” Madame Hootch answered. “Which were your worst to teach?”
“I had Potter, Weasley, and Malfroy.” The Potions Master said. “As if we need more Weasleys.” Madame Hootch nodded.
“God knows Malfroy didn’t need lessons.”
“Really?” She asked, sitting up a little in her chair to gossip. “He never gets detention for being out of bed after hours.”
“It doesn’t have to be your bed that your in.”
“And how was Potter?”
“Supprisingly he took notes and paid attention through the lesson, has to be the first thing I’ve taught that he was interested in.” Snape sighed. “I should have just threatened to poison someone, Dumbledore would have gotten me off the hook for that.”
