A/N: This story was originally posted on from 2009-2013. I took it down and then my computer died. Through the magic of internet guardian angels (aka user dvcmubster) this lovely little story has been brought back to me! YAY! I'll keep it as is for the most part—with a little modifications along the way.

Original A/N:

This plot bunny ambushed me. *Sigh*

"Severus," Dumbledore steepled his fingers as he spoke, "there are no other teachers available."

"There has to be someone else."

"There is no one," Dumbledore said, "Professor Trystienne had to leave for New Orleans on a family emergency. They... they seem to be having an amortentia-induced orgy in the French Quarter - in plain view of Muggles. She'll be gone for a while, I think."

"I can't."

"Severus," Dumbledore said again, still calm, "you are the only instructor who has a free period. Erzulie left all of her lesson plans on her desk. All you have to do is read from them. It's simple. I'll give you a raise, Severus, just please, do this."

Snape was silent. It was very hard for him to say no to Dumbledore. He gave a short, slight nod as an assent. Dumbledore smiled and dismissed him.

Snape sulked all the way to the classroom. He usually took his free periods to mope in his office alone or brew potions for Madame Pomfrey now that the war was over. Substituting for Erzulie Trystienne was the last thing he wanted to do.

"I think," Ron stated firmly as he, Harry and Hermione made their way to class, "that she might just be the hottest teacher I've ever had."

"Well there really isn't much of an attractive pool of professors here at Hogwarts," Harry commented, "I mean...Sprout...McGonagall... Vector is pretty decent but her class is near impossible. At least the girls got Lockhart to drool over in 3rd year...eh, Hermione?"

Harry nudged her cheekily.

"Yeah, he was a prize." Hermione deadpanned.

"I can't wait for this class," Ron continued excitedly, "Fred and George said that during one of the earlier classes, she puts a johnny on a banana!"

"GO ON!" Harry cried, "THAT WOULD BE SO HOT."

Hermione rolled her eyes as she opened the door to the classroom.

"I know! I know!" Ron could now hardly contain himself. "This is my favorite class. EVER."

Ron and Harry beamed at each other as they scurried to their seats.

"Hurry up!" Snape said to the students filing in.

Ron's smile vanished from his face, "what?"

"Snape?!" Harry exclaimed quietly.

"Prof. Trystienne must be sick or something," Hermione said, unfazed.

"No!" Ron whined.

Harry was silent. He'd eased up on Snape ever since he'd been privy to his memories that night in the Shrieking Shack.

"What was that thing you were mentioning about a banana, Ron?" Hermione giggled.

"Open your books," announced Snape grimly, "turn to page" - he referred to the lesson plan and grimaced - "169."

Ron tried to hold in his explosive laughter. Harry couldn't help but smile; Snape being uncomfortable could be mildly amusing. The class turned to the page and started chapter 5: Coitus Veneficus. The students collectively took held their breath in anticipation; how was Snape going to go about this lesson? Sex Ed wasn't exactly something he taught ...ever.

As an interesting foil, Erzulie Trystienne was a twenty six year old, beautiful Creole witch from Nouvelle Orleans. She made all of the girls feel like they had a well informed mentor on their side and made all the boys feel just generally amazing. The boys as a whole all looked forward to particularly saucy lectures. Professor Trystienne was the subject of many schoolboy fantasies.

Snape cleared his throat uncertainly and began to read mechanically:

"Coitus Veneficus," his mouth was dry, "is the act of sexual intercourse between two magical humans. It is more unpredictable and volatile than its Muggle counterpart and therefore is not without its own unique set of risks and pleasures. Due to these components, it is imperative that young witches and wizards are aware of them and know how to control and use them. Such charms and spells attached to the act are Engorgio, Medesco and Attero. This list is as long or as short as any of the participants want it to be..."

Snape continued to read quickly in monotone. The students tried to take notes and pay attention to the subject but could not help noticing the change in their teacher. Sure, it was no Potion or DADA class but no one could dispute the fact that Snape was extremely uncomfortable. To some (like Hermione and Neville) it was awkward (though

Neville never felt comfortable in the class. He'd had a massive crush on Prof Trystienne and could never answer a question without sweating and stuttering) but to others, like Ron and Seamus, it was hilarious. Harry was still trying to be as neutral as possible, with the knowledge he'd kept to himself.

Snape struggled on, and turned the page and his eyes were met with a naked witch on a bed. He gulped. Regaining composure swiftly, he continued reading Trystienne's notes on the subject.

So the class continued similarly for the next hour and twenty minutes. Hermione watched in horror. She never squirmed so much in her entire life. Much like Harry, she felt a twinge of pity for Snape. He was so obviously out of his element it made her wonder. Had he any field experience in this subject?

Ron, meanwhile, was exchanging disparaging notes about Snape with Seamus. Neville was thankful Snape hadn't stopped to ask any questions.

At the end of the lecture, Snape dismissed them five minutes early - the first time ever in his academic career. As most of the students rose and left the classroom in an awkward mass, Hermione had realized she was too busy feeling uncomfortable throughout the class to take appropriate notes. She scolded herself for her laziness. She rushed to catch up, not realizing she was the last student in the room.

"Miss Granger," Snape passed a tired hand across his forehead, "you must move on to your next class."

"Yes," Hermione replied as she wrote furiously, "yes, sir, of course."

Snape rose to leave but the image of the witch in the book remained opened before him and a certain physical function impeded him. He sat back down and propped his head against his hand, silently humiliated. Hermione paid him no attention as she was gathering her things together and leaving for Arithmancy. She did, however, pick up on his mood as she crossed the threshold of the door and turned back to face him.

"Professor," she asked meekly, "are...are you all right?"

Snape had been wishing she'd leave quickly. "Yes. Go on, Miss Granger. You'll be late."

She nodded uncertainly and left to go to her next class.