Disclaimer: Hmmm. Do I own Snape? No. sadly. Do I own any of the other Harry Potter characters? No. Patricia Eston is me, all me. I mean, MINE, all mine, and. yeah. Anyway. Some of the questions asked are owned by the members of Mr. Doolan's Biology 12 class. Thanks guys! The Doorbell Analogy belongs to Grindylow. If you haven't read her Snape in sex-ed story yet, go read it. Bloody hilarious!



Two hours and twenty minutes later, he admitted that if time hadn't stopped for him the day before Harry Potter decided to grace the school with his presence (heavy sarcasm here), then it wasn't going to stop today. He locked his office and rooms, and swept through the halls looking like a man about to attend his own funeral. He stopped outside the door of the classroom and tried to collect his thoughts. It didn't work too well. The lecture part didn't bother him. Normally the question and answer part didn't bother him. But on the other side of the door sat thirty Gryffindor and Slytherin fifth year females. Wild, inexperienced, eager to learn creatures who probably knew more about the female reproductive system than he did. Probably knew more about the male reproductive system, come to think of it.

"That's it. That is the LAST time I get drunk with McGonagall!" he vowed. "And this time I mean it!"

He took a deep breath and opened the door. Walking swiftly to the front of the room, he had to remind himself of Patricia's earlier promise.

"Ladies," he began, facing the girls. "I'm sure every one of you in here is aware of why I have to take this class. I'm also sure that every one of you in here has more knowledge of both the female and male reproductive system than I do. Am I right?"

"Well, we do now," piped up one of the Slytherins. "Professor Eston already did the lecture. It was a unanimous decision among the female professors to leave the questions to you though."

"Why me?" he asked, sinking into the chair.

"I believe the professor mentioning something about you being the most experienced in this subject and a 'damn good lover' had something to do with it," one of the girls said.

"Ten points from Gryffindor, Granger! And shut your mouth, some randy fifth year male may get ideas," he snapped. He looked at her with an expression that looked remarkably like interest and asked, "Did she really say I'm a damn good lover?"

Hermione nodded with a scowl on her face.

"Hmm.. Yes, Miss.?"

"Brown, sir. Um, I heard from one of the boys about a 'doorbell analogy'. Could you explain it, please? I don't quite get it."

"Well, um. er. well you see, it's like this. Next question?" he looked around frantically. Finally one of the Gryffindors raised her hand.

"Did you really used to be lovers with Professor Lupin?"

"Next question? And this time, try to make it relevant," he growled.

"Say there's this guy. what would be the best way to. please him?" a Slytherin asked.

"Well, I'm sure Mr. Malfoy would enjoy a hummer," he replied, relishing the look of embarrassment on her face when he mentioned Draco's name. One of the other Slytherins punched her in the arm with a look of pure fury on her face. "He's probably never received anything like it at all. And it would be over fairly quick, so you could get on to the more enjoyable business of eating your dinner."

A few giggles escaped both Slytherins and Gryffindors and he allowed a small smile to show. He did know that witches generally hated giving oral. A Gryffindor raised her hand and he acknowledged her with a nod.

"How would a girl pleasure. another girl?"

"Oh for the love of Pete! Do I have to explain? I see nothing wrong with it, but I'm a professor! If you can't figure it out, then you're more of a dunderhead than I thought you were! Bloody Gryffindors."

"Does Professor Eston really suck your. blood?" a Slytherin asked with a smirk on her face.

"No, as a matter of fact, I don't enjoy getting all the blood in my body sucked out."

"I didn't mean that, Professor."

"Oh. Well, no, I don't ask her to do that," he admitted.

"Why?"

"Is my sex life any of your bloody business? NO!! I don't ask her to, because I know she hates it," he said quietly. The girls went silent. Professor Snape, the Potions Master didn't ask someone to do something because he knew she hated it.

"Has Hell frozen over?" Hermione whispered. Snape looked up and fixed her of a stare worthy of the Basilisk.

"No, Hell hasn't frozen over. I'm just afraid of her teeth," he said quickly. "She is equipped with a very sharp set of teeth. I might lose something that tends to be very useful at times," he elaborated when he saw the quizzical looks he was getting. "Yes?" he asked when a Gryffindor shot her hand up.

"Is sex more meaningful when you love the person?" she asked shyly.

"Well," he replied. "Sometimes. It depends on what type of person you are. For me, yes, it is more meaningful when I make love to Pat- I mean Professor Eston than it has been when I was free to have a different woman every night. Sex is sex. Making love is a whole different experience. When you sleep with a person you love, then you are creating a. connection I suppose would be the best word. You can have sex with anybody. Sex is just a pleasuring that allows the tension in your body to drain out. Making love is a connecting of two bodies and two minds. Making love creates a certain amount of tension, but it is good tension. Some people, (like the Malfoys, for instance) like the bodily pleasuring more than the connecting, and will sleep with anyone they come across. I don't know how to explain it any different than that. Sorry, ladies."

A Gryffindor with a sly look on her face raised her hand.

"Have you ever-"

"That's enough girls," Patricia cut in suddenly. She was sitting on the windowsill, effectively hidden in the shadows. "If you have any more questions other than the ones we discussed before Professor Snape came," she paused long enough for the giggles to die away, "you may ask me after class or when I'm in my office. I thank you for your attention today. You are dismissed."

They watched the girls file out of the room before they spoke.

"What was that all about?" he demanded.

"I took pity on you and talked to Minerva about taking over for you. She agreed, but only after I said I wouldn't tell you that you were off the hook," Patricia explained, clearing the desk.

"And she didn't want to watch?" Snape asked in amazement.

"The fire's green, Severus. The entire staff has been watching," Patricia said, pointing to the fireplace. He had been so nervous he hadn't even noticed the fire burning. Indeed, there were still tinges of green in the dying flames.

"So she did watch."

"Yep! And thought it was hysterically funny, by the way. Doorbell analogy? You're never going to live this one down. I have sharp teeth? Why were you so flustered?" she asked.

"They were girls!" he exclaimed.

"You know, I think they have that figured out already, hun."

"Wouldn't you be flustered it you had to take the fifth year boys' lesson?" he asked.

"Not particularly," she answered. "In fact, I think it would be great fun! You know how much more blunt I could be with them?"

"Oh yeah."

"What?" she asked.

"I forgot I was talking to the most overly-sexed person in the school," he complained.

"And don't you ever forget it again!" she teased. "Now, to business. You don't ask me to do. that because you know I hate it?" she asked softly.

"Yeah. Can we drop the subject?" he growled. She smiled the way her dead husband used to smile when he heard something he wasn't sure was funny or not.

"Yeah. Now about that doorbell analogy." she said.



*the room starts to fade to black like on TV*



"A damn good lover?" he questioned.

"Only if you tell me about the doorbell thing."

"Want a drink? I have a whole bottle of Irish-mmph!"



*spit swapping noises*



"No, I like you better," she said.



*everything goes black*



"Oh, THAT'S the doorbell analogy. well, you want in? I'm hard of hearing."