A Hogwarts Christmas Sex Adventure

And so dear reader, let me take you back in time, by, oh about ten days, as we rapidly approach the end of term, and students and teachers alike eagerly await the Season of Goodwill. With the exception of one, of course. Now, whoever could that be?

*

‘Festive season my arse.’

The sentiment was spat from the corner of the Hogwarts Staff Room.

‘I’d always wondered how you got your post as Head of Slytherin. Now I can see it was merely by merit of your charming eloquence.’

‘Sod off, Minerva.’

Minerva McGonagall raised a thin silvery eyebrow over the rim of her thistle patterned tea cup and in the general direction of her long term nemesis, Severus Snape. ‘I rest my case,’ she sighed.

Severus Snape rather pointedly put his booted feet on the small coffee table in front of him, knowing how much it would irritate the Head of Gryffindor. ‘At least some of us didn’t sleep with the last Headmaster to get the post.’

Minerva attempted to hold her tongue for all of three seconds.

‘Bitterness really doesn’t become you, Severus,’ she paused. ‘Although on second thoughts…’

Hostile action was narrowly averted (but only just and with great restraint on both parties involved) by the arrival of the present Headmaster; Albus Dumbledore scuttling through the door. There was a decidedly weary look around his usually twinkling eyes.

‘Good day, Albus?’ Minerva asked, sipping daintily on her tea.

An armchair exploded in the corner of the room.

‘Oh for Merlin’s sake, Albus!’ m Hom Hooch howled. She was standing closest to the now spitting feathers and slightly smouldering wreck. ‘That was the last bloody comfy armchair.’

‘Sorry Hoochie, my dear,’ Albus apologised, reng hng his half moon glasses and polishing them on his sleeve. ‘It was a rough day.’

‘Rough day or not Albus, that was still the last decent armchair. You risk getting a spring up the arse with all the others.’

‘Probably the most action you’ll see all year, Hooch,’ Severus sneered from the corner.

‘Still more than you, Sevvie, darling, until you invent a potion that makes the half dead vampire look irresistibly attractive to women.’

Rather than come back with a biting insult, Severus decided to conserve energy and merely wriggled comfortably in the armchair he sat in with a pointed evil smile. Hooch glared at him as she perched on the edge of the hard wooden bench currently occupied by Flitwick.

‘Now, children, children,’ Minerva smirked. ‘What did they do this time, Albus?’

Albus swished his wand and collapsed in a suddenly appeared large floral armchair, much to Hoochie’s displeasure.

(Albus had banned magic in the staff room – with the exception of himself – after the 1994 fight between Flitwick and Trelawney had resulted in the staffroom resemb the the Battle of the Somme, complete with mud, trenches, and rotting corpses.)

‘Well, apart from dealing with two Hufflepuffs that managed to transfigure themselves into badgers in a misguided show of house pride, a rampaging fully grown Blast Ended Skrewt in the gymnasium, and a surreal Quidditch accident involving a seven broom pile up, it was a reasonably quiet day. Oh, but I did have to have a discussion with five sixth year Slytherins that were using the Chamber of Secrets as their own personal swimming pool. I’ve sent them along to your office at 6pm tonight to be disciplined, Severus.’

‘Oh, the highlight of my evening, Headmaster, I can hardly contain my excitement.’

Unsure exactly how sarcastic Severus was being, Albus merely raised a fluffy white eyebrow. ‘I’m sure you’ll have cauldrons or something for them to clean.’

‘I always do. Unless that dunderhead Neville Longbottom has managed to destroy them all.’

‘You’re too hard on the boy, Severus,’ Sprout said, stirring her tea. ‘He really is quite excellent in Herbology you know. Perhaps if you eased up on him…’

‘Oh, hush, Sproutie.’ Minerva giggled. ‘We all know Sev is still upset that Neville managed to scrap into his NEWT class.’

‘Only because that insufferable Know it All of a Head Girl managed to coax him through his OWL.’

‘Hermione Granger is a delightful young woman and an excellent Head Girl! I will not hear a bad word said…’

‘Minerva, Severus please! My headache is foul enough without your bickering.’ Albus rubbed his temples. ‘And we’ve all heard this argument plenty of times before.’

‘My sentiments exactly,’ Minerva grumbled, dipping a ginger newt in her tea with the vicious kind of malice usually only reserved for Head DeathEaters.

Desperate to avoid another slanging match, Albus tapped on his teacup. Once he had everyone’s attention, he cleared his throat and began.

‘Right, let’s get this bastardly thing over and done with. This staff meeting is now in session, does anyone have any business they wish to get into the open?’

‘I do!’ Hooch jumped to her feet so quickly, the bench nearly spat Flitwick onto the floor. ‘Whoever keeps ‘borrowing’ my electric razor, can they kindly not? Am fed up of pulling thick black hairs out of the foil.’

‘Eeeeeugh,’ was the general response. Then all eyes swivelled to Snape, the only person with thick black hair out in the room.

‘It wasn’t bloody well me! What the hell would I be shaving?’ Severus nearly choked on his coffee as he realised the entire room was staring accusingly at him.

‘Do not even think about answering that question, Hoochie dear, if you don’t mind. It’ll be dinner time soon, and I have no intention of losing my appetite.’ Albus ran a hand over his eyes. Sometimes he wondered who was more childish, the teachers or the students. Some days he got a clear answer, other days, he just stopped thinking about it.

‘Well, stop borrowing it!’ Hooch scowled.

‘It’s not me that is,’ Severus hissed. ‘Have you asked Hagrid?’

The entire room paled at the thought.

‘Right, any other business?’ Dumbledore moved on quickly.

‘We really must give the students some sex education,’ Minerva piped up. ‘I had to untangle my third couple this week that were attempting intercourse, and achieving something else completely.’

‘What on earth do you mean, Min?’ Albus asked.

‘Oh Albus, the children have no idea about romance, or well, positioning, or anything. Especially the biological aspect. Apparently this young lady thought the whole idea was for it to go in her belly button. I really think we need to address this problem.’

‘Oh, right, well, if you think so,’ Albus was blushing, ‘Anyone have any suggestions?’

‘Well how did we learn?’ Hooch muttered. ‘Through experience and practise.’

‘Fine,’ Severus sneered. ‘We’ll send all the of age students up the astrology tower and behind the Herbology greenhouses, and let them gain their experience in the same way that you did. What a wonderful idea, Hoochie.’

‘I didn’t hear you complaining over the summer in the broom shed.’ Hooch snarled.

‘Must have been all that experience and practising up the astrology tower,’ Severus smirked. Despite all their bickering, it had been a rather enjoyable little fling, and common knowledge amongst the staff. Hell, more than common knowledge, the faculty members had been taking bets over which one of them would end up in the hospital wing suffering from exhaustion first.

Minerva jumped in quickly before Severus and Hooch got into one of their full scale, all out wars, or even worse, leaped on each other. ‘So, we’re agreed, as of next year, we give all third year and above classes, compulsory sex education. Give them the biology, the contraception talk, and the crap about waiting until you’re in a loving relationship.’

‘And who is going to give these talks?’ Albus asked, going pale with the thought have having to address the entire Great Hall in the manner of his welcome speech, but this time explaining about sperm and ovaries.

‘The Head of Houses of course,’ Hooch grinned.

Minerva merely rolled her eyes, Sprout and Flitwick nodded, but Severus went even paler than before.

‘Oh Merlin, help me,’ he muttered. Though with any luck he could be menacing enough to frighten some of the little shits into never wanting to procreate and then spare himself having to teach their equally shitty offspring in twenty years time or so. Every cloud had its silver lining.

‘If there is no other business, then we shall get on with what we gathered here to organise. The Christmas Ball.’ Albus selected a ginger newt from the tin on the table.

‘The Christmas Ball?’ Flitwick asked. ‘Surely you mean the Yule Ball?’

‘No, this year, we’re having two balls. The Christmas Ball will be held on Christmas Eve for all students and staff that have not returned to the bosom of their families. As we seem to have rather a few this year, I thought it would be nice to do something for them, break from monotony and all that.’

‘What a fabulous idea,’ Minerva simpered, ignoring Severus’s bad imitation of her behind her back.

‘Sycophantic old witch,’ Severus muttered. Hoochie, in a rare moment of conspiracy, agreed with him. Like Severus, she couldn’t think of anything more hellish than this bloody ball.

‘Who will be chaperoning?’ Sprout asked.

‘I rather thought that everyone would be,’ Albus said with a deceptively cheerful grin on his face. ‘Since none of us ever go home for Christmas, we should all attend the ball, improve teacher/pupil relationships, and all that.’

‘Oh fucking excellent,’ Severus fumed, crossing his arms, and once more slamming his boots down on the table. ‘And I suppose you’ll sack us if we don’t attend?’

‘No, Severus, I won’t sack you,’ Albus was disturbing sweet. ‘I might give your testicles to Minerva as a pair of festive earrings though.’

Severus crossed his legs as well as his arms.

‘So attendance is compulsory then?’ Flitwick asked.

‘Any teacher or staff member that is on school grounds, and doesn’t attend, shall be cursed in some highly imaginative way that I haven’t worked out yet. Needless to say it will probably involve mistletoe, dancing reindeers, and a beard to rival mine and Father Christmas’s. But bright blue.’

Albus was geg mog more and more sadistic with each year that passed.

‘Now, does anybody object?’

Was there any point in objecting was the thought that crossed across most of the staff member’s minds. Yet again Albus had managed to discover a way to get the teachers involved with the students during their precious time off.

No one said anything, but a few got out pocket watches and pointedly examined them. Albus took the hint.

‘Alright everybody that concludes the meeting. I shall need a few people to be in charge of refreshments and entertainment, please see me before the end of term on Friday to discuss any ideas you have, and to obtain approval. Please, we do not want a repeat of last year’s fiasco of the fancy dress Easter. I’m sure it will be sometime before the image of Professor Snape dressed as Eighties Madonna will be wiped from some of our memories, even with an obliviate charm.’

‘I told you, somebody hexed me…’ Severus could be heard hissing.

‘We know, so you keep saying my dear boy, but were the cones attached to your chest really necessary? You could have had someone’s eye out.’

The language Severus decided to use surprised even the teaching staff.

‘Right, the meeting is now closed.’ Albus attempted to speak over Severus’s outburst, with little effect. ‘Lets go to dinner and make sure the little fuckers don’t kill each other for another few days at least.’

The festive season was fast approaching. And there was one thought on many of the teacher’s minds.

Bah humbug.