A/N: Chap 20 review responses are available in my forums. Now, WARNINGS: This chapter contains frank discussions of sex (as you might surmise from the title), and a fairly detailed depiction of masturbation. As well as a moritified, sickened Severus Snape having to do the talk with 13 boys. While this may not seem pertinent to the story, I promise you some of the facts in this chapter are very important going down the road.

Chapter Twenty-One: THE TALK

On the last Friday afternoon in November, Professor Snape walked into the Wizarding Studies class with his robe swirling behind him and a look of profound displeasure plastered across his pale, large-nosed face.

"Professor Snape," Professor Hooch said, standing as he entered. "Class, books away. Professor Snape is going to lead a discussion on a topic that I'm sure is close to your hearts and definitely to your heads." She snickered. "Professor, good luck."

"Go away, Professor," Snape said abruptly to his first wife.

Rather than take offence at his curt tone, Professor Hooch laughed gaily and almost skipped out of the room, snickering and laughing the whole time. The thirteen boys waited in wary silence as Snape flicked his wand to close the door. He then spun his wand about, its glowing tip dancing in a complex fashion and an even more complex incantation on his lips. Harry watched a wave of golden magic fly through the room. Occasionally it contacted something that popped with white magic before going dim again, until the whole room was covered in scintillating golden light.

"We may now speak privately, without fear of being monitored," Snape said. "I have been given the dubious honour of providing you with 'The Talk'."

Some of the boys groaned theatrically.

"I have been given this honour as I am the only currently married male professor in the castle," Snape continued. "Also, I was too slow to say no when it was brought up. We are having this talk because you are all thirteen to fourteen years old, and thus you are most likely old enough to have the urge to procreate. Or to use words your tiny little minds can understand—you're old enough physically to have sex. I'm here to tell you why that would be such a horrid and stupid idea."

Snape glared at them all for a moment before turning his attention to Draco. "Mr. Malfoy, please relate what happened to you on the fourth floor corridor two weeks ago."

Harry had never seen Malfoy blush, but the Slytherin did so now, looking intensely uncomfortable. "Marina Dasple propositioned me," he said. "And touched me."

A shivering wave of fascination and sympathy ran through the other boys. "She did indeed," Snape said. "For those of you who do not know, Marina Dasple is a Seventh Year Ravenclaw. Though technically a half-blood, she was Muggle-raised. This was her third attempt at poaching a younger wizard, and she was more overt about it this time, since unfortunately the odds for a witch of obtaining the position of first wife after graduating Hogwarts declines drastically. And I am sure every single one of you has experienced something similar."

Snape turned and flicked his wand at the blackboard. The word BONDS appeared. "We throw the word bond around quite easily in magical society. Do any of you dunderheads actually know what it means?"

Malfoy raised his hand; Snape merely nodded. "It is a linking of a witch and wizard's magic, binding them together as husband and wife."

"Right out of the textbook. That is what the Ministry wishes you to believe. While the faces of the Ministry may be men, I assure you they are taking direction from their Covens. Have bonds always existed?"

Michael Corner in Ravenclaw raised his hand. At Snape's nod he said, "I read a book that speculated bonds have been around for as long as magic itself, but the way they are now has only existed for the past fifteen hundred years or so."

"That is correct," Snape said. "In fact the first recorded instance of a modern magical bond in Britain occurred between the Saxon princess Rowena and the wizard-king Vortigern. Rowena was trained by the Völva of the Norse, and bore a Norse wand. She was the first witch on English soil to wield one, and she used what we would call a modern bond to secure her place as Vortigern's second wife. In unofficial histories, this is recognized as the end of the primacy of wizards and the ascendency of witches in our society. This was also the origin of the modern Covens. While Merlin saw the wand-wielding witches as a threat and destroyed Rowena and Vortigern's court, Rowena had already spread the secret of wands. Every child, boy or girl, born to wand-wielding witches, was raised to wield a wand. Witches gathered around the powerful wizards, and those groups had the most children, and thus gained prestige and power. Eventually, the coven structure arose from those groupings. Within five hundred years, wands were used from Spain to the Mongol tribes of China, and five hundred years after that began to spread throughout the Americas."

Kevin Entwhistle raised his hand before asking, "So what was it like before then?"

"Traditions varied by culture and location, where enough witchborn survived to form a society, that is to say. In the Celtic tradition, wizards employed powerful staffs, and actually bound witches to them using this staff in an opposite fashion as happens today. Wizards would form prides of witches, and fight other wizards for possession of those prides. The magic of the witches served to strengthen the wizard, rather than the opposite. These groups formed the proto-covens of the pre-Roman world. The Romans, of course, violently opposed witchcraft and made a point of killing any witchborn they could find. The idea of magic clashed with their mind-set—a mind-set which unfortunately carried into the Romanized Christians. This forced most continental and southern British wizards and witches into hiding, and it was during this period the Veil was first developed. That is why the Veil is true wandless magic—it predates wands by centuries." The professor glared at the boys. "Now, how does a bond form?" he demanded.

Harry hesitantly raised his hand; Snape ignored him as was normal. "Mr. Malfoy?"

"You have sex, and the witch bonds her magic to yours," he said.

"Close," Snape said. "Sex and bonds are correlational, but not causational. To wit, having sex itself cannot cause a bond to form. However, bonds most often form during sex because it is an intimate situation involving significant eye-contact. I'm sure you've heard the term 'The eyes are windows to the soul?' This is literally true for us. If you are having sex with a witch, you are very likely to be smitten with her, at least at that moment. And all it takes is a moment of shared affection and a deep stare for a bond to form."

Snape sighed then before turning and flicking his wand. Two very detailed chalk figures appeared on the board—one obviously male, one obviously female. To the mutual fascination, fear and delight of the boys, the chalk figures laid down together and began coupling energetically. "Sexual intercourse, for those of you who are dunderheads, is when a man inserts his penis into the vagina of a woman, moving about thus until he ejaculates his seed. The seed then travels deeper into her womb where, if she is in season, her egg is waiting. The seed fertilizes the egg, which grows over the course of nine months or so into a baby."

Suddenly the chalk figures turned red for the man and blue for the woman, and enlarged until their heads dominated the chalkboard. They were staring intently at each other as his red thick magic and her thinner blue magic reached out to each other. Suddenly his red bond was blunted somehow at her eyes, the thickness of the line pared down to a thin third of the original thickness, while the blue magic tripled its width, until where before red dominated, now her magic dominated the connection.

"As you can see," Snape said dryly, "at the beginning of the bond, the magical connection is roughly proportionate to each partner's magical strength. However, by the time it is formed, the male draw is deeply weakened while the female draw is significantly strengthened, meaning that the woman now has a greater pull on the man's magic than the man has on hers. We believe this happens because the use of wands has actually shaped the magical development of women over the years. It is not surprising that wandcraft is a closely guarded secret of the covens. No man has ever made a wand, and there remains a law on the books today that any wizard attempting to do so will be thrown through the Veil of Death."

Harry felt his stomach dropping, but Snape wasn't through. "We are having this discussion in private as we have every year since we wizards realized what was happening. The truth is that we are controlled by the witches in our lives, and our entire society is organized around that central fact. The Covens allow us the Wizengamot to give us the illusion of importance, but it is the Dames who control what happens, not the Elders."

"That's not right!" Seamus Finnigan burst out. "Why do we let them do that?"

"Because most men, Mr Finnigan, enjoy having sex and wish to continue to do so," Snape said dryly. "Perhaps when you have a moment you should look up Aristophenes' Lysistrata. While a comedy, it clearly illustrates the power sex holds over men."

Despite their young ages, the boys were fascinated enough at the prospect of sex not to deny the professor's assertions.

Snape walked around his wife's desk and sat down. "The truth is sometimes difficult to ponder, but this is a witch's world. There are more of them, and they have crafted magic to ensure they maintain control over us. While an individual wizard can be anywhere from twice to ten times as strong as a witch magically, once bonded to two witches most wizards are actually weaker than their bond mates magically speaking. That, of course, is the whole point. Now, your options are to learn to live within the system, rebel against the system and be reviled and likely killed, or leave the system entirely and have a Veil attached and your magic bound. Those are your only options—the covens have made sure of it."

Snape stood again. "So, down to the details of what is safe and what, generally, is not. Generally, do not engage in any intimate contact with a witch until you feel you are ready to bond. However, since I know you are boys, that will only last for so long. So, when you decide you just can't wait any longer and a witch is willing, here are things to avoid."

He turned and flicked his wand again. The chalk figures vanished, and words appeared.

Snogging

Eye contact

Missionary-style vaginal sex

Missionary-style anything

"As you can see, anything that involves you being face-to-face with a witch during any form of physical intimacy is dangerous. Many times, the more cunning witches will offer sexual favours that do not involve eye-contact in the hope this will lead you to become comfortable with them over time, leading finally to a bonding in a moment of relaxation. This is, in fact, very common."

A line appeared underneath the list of things not to do. Underneath the lines: What society expects.

"It is expected that, sooner or later, every one of you will form a bond. Those magically able are expected to form two bonds. Because of this, whether intentionally or through poaching, it is almost certain that you will all experience bonding. So we will now discuss what will happen, and what you can expect."

Intense sexual pleasure

Light-headedness

Emotionalism

Magical exhaustion

"The moment of bonding will be the single most intensely pleasurable experience any of you will ever have," Snape said. "It will overwhelm you and leave you giddy and lightheaded for roughly ten days. For the next week to ten days you'll feel intense emotions, far beyond normal. Wizards immediately after bonding are often seen in tears or raging uncontrollably. And then, after the euphoria fades, comes the realization of magical exhaustion; that your magic is now being drawn upon regularly, and that you are not as powerful as you were before. Usually this is expressed in your spell casting.

"The only time a bond does not result in pleasure is if you are not physically or magically mature enough to handle the connection. In this case, you will feel such intense, overwhelming agony that it will obliterate your psyche and leave you a vegetable, if it does not in fact kill you."

Thirteen boys stared in horror at Snape.

"And no, for those who do not know me and think that I may have a sense of humour, I am not joking. There have been fifteen true underage bondings in the past thirty years, and every one of them is at the long-term ward at St. Mungo's. If you are not absolutely sure of your own sexual maturity, then do not even risk being close to a witch if you can help it."

"Er, how do you know?" Anthony Goldstein, a boy as small as Harry, said. "I mean, if you're ready."

"If you ejaculate after masturbation without discomfort, then you are sufficiently mature," Snape said.

Harry felt his cheeks flush. He'd never even thought of anything like that. He'd been hard on several occasions, but did nothing about it.

"For those of you who do not know, the normal masturbation charm should be simple enough for even dunderheads to remember. Two words: mas, meaning man, and turbare, meaning to excite. And yes, it is the root of the modern word, which should give you some indication that it has been around for some time. You point your wand at your penis, and incant 'Mas turbare!' and if your intent is there, which I'm sure it will be, you will have the desired result. We teach you this, because it is far safer for all of you to relieve yourselves individually than risk bonding before you are ready.

"And for Merlin's sake, make sure your curtains are drawn, you've cast a silencing charm, and you've placed a cloth, towel or sock over yourself!"

Snape shook his head, looking as if he wanted very much to throw up at that moment. "I will, of course, alert the elves that you have been given this lesson." He visibly shuddered. "Now, questions?"

Hesitantly, Harry lifted his hand. "Professor, does bonding with someone make you love them?"

Snape actually sneered, but then quickly hid the expression. "Love has nothing to do with a magical bond. It is possible to bond with someone you normally dislike intensely, so long as there is a shared moment of intimacy, affection and eye contact at that moment. Bonds are a magically-reinforced biological phenomenon observed only in witches and wizards to increase the likelihood of a wizard's participation and protection of a witch raising her young. Whatever else you might say, given our brutal history of oppression at the hands of Muggles, even I can understand the underlying biological necessity behind these bonds. If you find yourself bonded to someone you do not like…I strongly encourage you to explore love potions. There are several to choose from. Now, class is dismissed. Get out."

~~Firebird~~

~~Firebird~~

That night, Harry curled up on his side hugging his ribs tightly and trying with all his might to keep from laughing. Across the room, Ron kept whispering loudly, "Mass Tarbar! Ouch, bloody 'ell, why won't it work. Mass Tarbar!"

Unfortunately, Seamus didn't have Harry's restraint and started snickering, and it was like a torpedo to Harry's dam. He started laughing, and he just couldn't stop. "Cut it out, guys!" Ron whined from his bed. "It's not funny!"

That just made Seamus start laughing harder, and even Neville started chuckling.

"Guys! It's not funny! Why isn't it working?"

Neville, ever the kindest of them, finally said, "You're saying it wrong, that's why you git. It's Mas Turbare! Say it like 'Ma-as' with a short 's' sound, and 'Toor-bar-ee'."

"Mas Turbare!" Ron said from his bed, before screaming, "It works! It works! Come see!"

Harry laughed so hard he fell out of his bed, while Seamus said, "We don't want to see your little ginger dick, Ron! Close up your bloody curtains!" He managed all this in a breath before collapsing in laughter again.

Harry continued laughing until he finally got to sleep.

~~Firebird~~

~~Firebird~~

After a close game in which Gryffindor beat the Hufflepuffs, and in which the Slytherins slaughtered the Ravenclaws, Christmas finally arrived at Hogwarts. Harry, of course, elected to stay in the castle. As a third year, he had more privileges than his first two years, meaning he could move about the castle on his own.

Or so he thought. On the third day of the holiday, however, his attempt to get to the library was thwarted when a heavily pregnant Aurora Sinistra stepped into his path. "Sorry, Mr Potter, but I'm afraid you'll have to come back to the library another time."

Harry stared at the beautiful witch in confusion. The ethereal thinness was gone from her face due to the flush of pregnancy. More amazing, though, was the small spot of magic within her womb. It was already blue—the child would be a Slytherin. "But why, Professor? I still have a paper to write."

Sinistra was always one of the fairest of the professors, as well as being in general kind, if not demanding. She looked at him intently for a moment, as if weighing something in her mind. Finally, she said, "Do you remember what almost happened with Healer Carlisle during your first year?"

"Yes."

"Do you know why?"

"Something to do with her being an aether too."

"Yes. You're aware that there is another aether student in Hogwarts, correct? A second-year witch?"

"You mean Luna Lovegood," Harry said, flushing with realization. "She's in there, isn't she?"

"She is. Her father was travelling, and so she is staying over the holidays this year. Unfortunately, we cannot risk you accidentally bonding."

Harry thought about it, and shuddered at the thought. "You're right, Professor, thank you. Still, it's not fair to make you go trudging around the castle. Do you think we could come up with some other means to make sure we don't run into each other?"

"We might consider it," Sinistra said, visibly relieved.

"Okay, then. Well, thank you for the warning. Good luck on the baby, I'm sure she'll make you proud." With that, Harry turned and started back to the tower while Sinistra stared after him with a gaping jaw.

"Could he really see it's a girl?" she asked the air after his passage.

~~Firebird~~

~~Firebird~~

That evening, Harry had a surprise visit from the Weasley twins. Ron wasn't there in the castle for the holiday, so he had absolutely no idea why the twins would be.

"OWL year," Fred explained when Harry asked, while Georgina hit his shoulder and said, "None of your business."

Harry could tell from their magic that both were lying. "Are Angelina and Lee staying?"

From the twins' mutual blush, Harry began to understand. Georgina, however, pointed her wand and said, "Say a word to anyone, and I'll charm your own shite to attack you!"

"Not a word!" Harry swore. "Though it's kind of neat that you don't have to worry about bonding."

"Shut it!" Georgina said.

"Now, Little Harrikins, to our reason for being here," Fred said extravagantly. "It has come to our attention that we are in possession of something that rightly belongs to you. This was brought to our attention by a certain professor who shall not be named."

"Lupin," Georgina coughed in her hand.

"WHO SHALL NOT BE NAMED!" Fred said with pretend anger. "Now, where were we? Oh, yes. Evidently, there is a certain second year Ravenclaw who you should endeavour to avoid for reasons that we don't know anything about."

"Bonding!" Georgina coughed again.

"SHUT IT, YOU!" Fred said. "Er, where was I? Oh, right. Well, Professor Lupin found us using this particular item and noted his part in its creation, and further mentioned that an heir for it was right here in the castle, and had actual need of it. Being the wonderful, awesome blokes we are…"

"Speak for yourself," Georgina snapped, no longer bothering to cough. She crabbed her sizable bust and said, "This is all woman here, you prat."

"And a nice set of knockers they are," Fred said. "Anyway, here we go." He produced a thick fold of parchment, tapped his wand to it, and said, "I Solemnly Swear That I am Up To No Good!"

Suddenly the front of the parchment came alive with magic and writing. Messrs Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs, Purveyors of Aids to Magical Mischief-Makers are proud to present THE MARAUDER'S MAP.

To Harry's amazement, the parchment unfolded on its own to reveal an amazingly detailed map of the whole castle, with a legend on the left fold listing the different floors of the castle. He touched his wand to one and the whole map changed to the second floor. "This is amazing," Harry whispered.

"And it's rightfully yours," Fred said. "Lupin said Prongs was your dad."

Harry absorbed that in silence, while his eyes scanned over the floor. Being the holidays, the castle was almost completely empty. "You're giving this to me?"

"We don't need it anymore," Fred said with a shrug.

"We know all the secret passages," George added. "And the best hiding places. The school only uses half the castle, and even then not much of it."

"Wow, you two, this is great. Thank you!"

"Just remember to beware Loony Ravenclaws!" Fred said dramatically.

~~Firebird~~

~~Firebird~~

That night, Harry watched on the map as Fred Weasley and Angelina Johnson seemed to join together on the map, their names squashed together so tightly the letters jumbled. More astonishing was that in the very same room on the fifth floor East Corridor, far from any active classrooms, Lee and Georgina's names were just as jumbled together. Moreover, the jumbles kept moving, sometimes switching orientation or even positions around the room.

Harry knew EXACTLY what they were doing, but just found it amazing that they were doing it together, in the same room. It just seemed so nasty. He switched floors, one after the other, until he came to the seventh floor where he saw a single pair of footprints and the name Luna Lovegood.

There was no one else in the corridor, or even on the floor. Still, she stood there next to the wall, facing it from what he could tell by the orientation of the tiny footprints that served to show her position.

He'd been hearing about Luna Lovegood for the past year and a half, but he only knew she was short and blonde. He'd never been close enough to get a good glimpse at her features, and he honestly never heard anything good about her from the second year boys who had flying lessons with her. Evidently she fell off her broom three times and ended up taking a Troll for that lesson.

He heard from Hermione, who heard from Denise Creevey, who heard from Ginny Weasley, that Luna threw up violently her first time through the Floo, just like he did, and did not seem to have many friends. At least in that regard Harry could say he had Neville and Ron, and though they still weren't close he got along okay with Seamus.

Of course, being a thirteen-year-old boy, Harry wasn't not quite self-aware enough to know his fascination with her was simply because she was forbidden, that if he had met her and spoken to her, he likely wouldn't be staring down at her name and footprints on a magical map. But she WAS forbidden, and more importantly, he knew exactly why. She was only a second year, and he only a third year. He was in no position to bond with anyone.

And yet…Silver blue eyes stare up at him from under the curl of her bangs. She is standing in his room, nude and pale and beautiful. Her face is a blur; instead all he can see clearly is a silver representation of a three-phased moon.

Pleasure so intense it blinds him washes through his body as he feels himself surging into her.

Harry gasped for breath and waited for the inevitable pain of a vision, but it did not come. Instead, what came was the most painfully taut erection he'd ever experienced. Assured that he was alone, he pointed his wand and said, "Mas turbare!"

Though it was the first time he had ever employed the charm, it was designed for brain-addled boys as far back as Roman times, and it worked as it had for countless generations. Harry threw his head back as the charm took over, stimulating him like a woman's mouth would, until within mere seconds he felt an intense pressure build from the base of his scrotum while heat flushed through his body.

Even so, for a brief, silly moment he actually thought what he was doing was peeing, until he ventured a look. A sudden, euphoric sense of relaxation swept through him as he leaned back in his bed. He used his wand to banish the mess as best he could, before turning his attention back to the map.

Luna was still there, but now her feet were facing away from the wall and spread further apart, pointing at an angle away from centre, and blurring a little as if she were moving her feet about. Given his recently activity, Harry realized with a start that she was doing the same exact thing he was.

"Good night, Luna," he whispered.

Her feet came together then, and in his mind he knew she was saying good night to him as well.

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Author's Note: Very special thanks as always to Teufel1987, JR and Miles for beta reading.