The LJ magic has worked yet again
Nov. 9th, 2006 09:43 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
foudebassanApparently you only have to complain about something for LJ to make it come true. My Internet has come back, glory, glory, alleluia!
So, without further ado, prepare to be spammed.
Short, silly, no redeeming value.
Parts of the dialogue, and the general idea, are ripped off from the Monty Python, the meaning of life.
Rated R
The students are of course of age - it's their 7th year!
Penetrating lessons
"Clack, clack, clack, clack"
Hermione could swear the Headmistress wore those shoes on purpose to warn them of her arrival. Well, she did have a point, double classes with the Slytherin tended to begin in mayhem to subside into entrenched rivalry in the presence of professors.
In the spirit of things, Ron hexed a large spitball into Malfoy's general direction at the precise moment when the classroom door moved; and Harry lowered the schoolbag he had been holding as a shield.
Having saved the Wizarding world single-handedly, or with the help of very few friends, did give one sharp reflexes. That it also accounted for winning so many house points even before the beginning of the term they could virtually afford to do anything and still win the house cup was just an added bonus.
Speaking of point deduction... What was Snape doing there?
"Good morning, class!"
McGonagall perched her glasses even higher up her nose.
"You have survived intact... well, more or less, use your handkerchief please mister Longbottom... as I said, you are still alive. It is now time to ensure that you are fully equipped to foster a new generation of strong young witches and wizards... yes, mister Longbottom, you may be excused from the class. As you can see, Professor Snape has agreed to helping me in this task."
Harry and Ron exchanged disheartened glances. According to the twins, the seventh year 'special class' was something special and fascinating. Of course the fact that neither of them had actually attended it did put a damper of the trustworthiness of the general information, but they hadn't let common sense intrude upon their natural curiosity.
"Pss, Hermione, do you think she and Snape will actually, you know...?"
"Two points from Gryffindor! And do tell me, mister Weasley, what the three contraception charms are? Not that your family seems to be that well acquainted to them..."
Ron turned to an interesting shade of red, stuttered, and darted desperate sidelooks at Hermione.
"Contraceptus, and, er,..."
"I see... Mister Malfoy?"
Draco looked like he wished for nothing more in the world than to travel back to that tower and Avada Snape instead of brandishing his wand at Dumbledore.
Hermione, on the other hand, was agitating hers far above her head.
"Miss Granger?"
There were definite advantages in having the Headmistress present in one of Snape's classes. One didn't have to dangle one's hand up for too long, for one.
"Contraceptus is the month-long spell, it is complicated and should therefore be casted by a qualified Mediwitch; Contracepto the simplified version, reliable only over a 24-hour period for the average caster; and of course Vasectomus, for wizards only, that is quite easy to cast but may prove irreversible if the caster is not skilled enough."
The male half of the room winced as McGonagall proceeded to explain the wand movements required.
"And now, the practical" Snape drawled as the female half of the room shivered in cool anticipation.
Headmistress McGonagall waved her hand in the blackboard's general direction and a four-poster somehow dropped from the wall. Snape soberly started on his buttons.
"Would anyone care to quote the main foreplay techniques? It was on the assigned reading for today's lecture..."
Harry scratched his head, Ron looked at the ceiling, trying to paint concentration on his face, and Draco shot a desperate look to Granger. Unfortunately for him, she was too busy picking up her own jaw as she eyed Snape's torso, emerging from the shirt as Venus from the waters in a darker, scrawnier version of Botticelli's painting. Girls just couldn't be counted on in one's hour of need.
"Mister Crabbe?"
The Headmistress' voice interrupted their reflections.
"A wizard should, er, should rub the clitoris of his partner?"
Vincent sounded almost hopeful. He had failed all of his OWLs – twice – and this was his last chance to attend a class with students his age. Were it not for Quidditch, he would have been very tempted to leave Hogwarts for good, but then his father kept going on about the value of a good education and insisted on his attending school until the end of the year.
"Rub the clitoris? Rub the clitoris?"
He cowed back. He should have known that reading the textbook ahead on time wouldn't do any good.
"And what's wrong with kissing, may I ask?"
The Headmistress had assumed dangerously low tones.
"Bewitch her mind… Ensnare the senses…"
A Potions Master clad sorely in an oversized, unbuttoned, gaping shirt had apparently decided it was his turn to take charge.
"And why is foreplay so important… Potter?"
Harry grabbed Hermione's elbow and shook hard in an attempt to get her attention, but she was so mesmerised by her Professor that an uncoordinated reflex movement to wipe the drool from her chin seemed to be the most she could manage.
"I see... Weasley?"
Ron was now cross-eyed from staring at the ceiling. Watching the Potions Master in the midst of a potion preparation was one thing, having to see his naked chest and, er, below was something else entirely.
"I am ready, Severus... would you please take place?"
"Foreplay, she carried on as Snape took place on the four-poster, Foreplay is meant to carry enough magic to the genital area for the witch and wizard to carry out their activities. We may consider the foreplay as done, may we Severus?"
"Mmmh." He closed his eyes as any decent wizard invariably did during copulation.
"Hrrniih" McGonagall seated herself and demonstratively bent forward to show how proper clitoral stimulation ought to be achieved.
Hermione had lost interest in the situation by then, and had discreetly opened a textbook on her lap, and not a Sexual Studies one either... she found Charms more suited to her mood, wand-waving did more for her than watching her Transfigurations Mistress bounce on an admittedly well-endowed Potions Master.
The end (for now).
I need some kind of joke to wrap it up in the end... any ideas? Want to make it a round robin?
So, without further ado, prepare to be spammed.
Short, silly, no redeeming value.
Parts of the dialogue, and the general idea, are ripped off from the Monty Python, the meaning of life.
Rated R
The students are of course of age - it's their 7th year!
"Clack, clack, clack, clack"
Hermione could swear the Headmistress wore those shoes on purpose to warn them of her arrival. Well, she did have a point, double classes with the Slytherin tended to begin in mayhem to subside into entrenched rivalry in the presence of professors.
In the spirit of things, Ron hexed a large spitball into Malfoy's general direction at the precise moment when the classroom door moved; and Harry lowered the schoolbag he had been holding as a shield.
Having saved the Wizarding world single-handedly, or with the help of very few friends, did give one sharp reflexes. That it also accounted for winning so many house points even before the beginning of the term they could virtually afford to do anything and still win the house cup was just an added bonus.
Speaking of point deduction... What was Snape doing there?
"Good morning, class!"
McGonagall perched her glasses even higher up her nose.
"You have survived intact... well, more or less, use your handkerchief please mister Longbottom... as I said, you are still alive. It is now time to ensure that you are fully equipped to foster a new generation of strong young witches and wizards... yes, mister Longbottom, you may be excused from the class. As you can see, Professor Snape has agreed to helping me in this task."
Harry and Ron exchanged disheartened glances. According to the twins, the seventh year 'special class' was something special and fascinating. Of course the fact that neither of them had actually attended it did put a damper of the trustworthiness of the general information, but they hadn't let common sense intrude upon their natural curiosity.
"Pss, Hermione, do you think she and Snape will actually, you know...?"
"Two points from Gryffindor! And do tell me, mister Weasley, what the three contraception charms are? Not that your family seems to be that well acquainted to them..."
Ron turned to an interesting shade of red, stuttered, and darted desperate sidelooks at Hermione.
"Contraceptus, and, er,..."
"I see... Mister Malfoy?"
Draco looked like he wished for nothing more in the world than to travel back to that tower and Avada Snape instead of brandishing his wand at Dumbledore.
Hermione, on the other hand, was agitating hers far above her head.
"Miss Granger?"
There were definite advantages in having the Headmistress present in one of Snape's classes. One didn't have to dangle one's hand up for too long, for one.
"Contraceptus is the month-long spell, it is complicated and should therefore be casted by a qualified Mediwitch; Contracepto the simplified version, reliable only over a 24-hour period for the average caster; and of course Vasectomus, for wizards only, that is quite easy to cast but may prove irreversible if the caster is not skilled enough."
The male half of the room winced as McGonagall proceeded to explain the wand movements required.
"And now, the practical" Snape drawled as the female half of the room shivered in cool anticipation.
Headmistress McGonagall waved her hand in the blackboard's general direction and a four-poster somehow dropped from the wall. Snape soberly started on his buttons.
"Would anyone care to quote the main foreplay techniques? It was on the assigned reading for today's lecture..."
Harry scratched his head, Ron looked at the ceiling, trying to paint concentration on his face, and Draco shot a desperate look to Granger. Unfortunately for him, she was too busy picking up her own jaw as she eyed Snape's torso, emerging from the shirt as Venus from the waters in a darker, scrawnier version of Botticelli's painting. Girls just couldn't be counted on in one's hour of need.
"Mister Crabbe?"
The Headmistress' voice interrupted their reflections.
"A wizard should, er, should rub the clitoris of his partner?"
Vincent sounded almost hopeful. He had failed all of his OWLs – twice – and this was his last chance to attend a class with students his age. Were it not for Quidditch, he would have been very tempted to leave Hogwarts for good, but then his father kept going on about the value of a good education and insisted on his attending school until the end of the year.
"Rub the clitoris? Rub the clitoris?"
He cowed back. He should have known that reading the textbook ahead on time wouldn't do any good.
"And what's wrong with kissing, may I ask?"
The Headmistress had assumed dangerously low tones.
"Bewitch her mind… Ensnare the senses…"
A Potions Master clad sorely in an oversized, unbuttoned, gaping shirt had apparently decided it was his turn to take charge.
"And why is foreplay so important… Potter?"
Harry grabbed Hermione's elbow and shook hard in an attempt to get her attention, but she was so mesmerised by her Professor that an uncoordinated reflex movement to wipe the drool from her chin seemed to be the most she could manage.
"I see... Weasley?"
Ron was now cross-eyed from staring at the ceiling. Watching the Potions Master in the midst of a potion preparation was one thing, having to see his naked chest and, er, below was something else entirely.
"I am ready, Severus... would you please take place?"
"Foreplay, she carried on as Snape took place on the four-poster, Foreplay is meant to carry enough magic to the genital area for the witch and wizard to carry out their activities. We may consider the foreplay as done, may we Severus?"
"Mmmh." He closed his eyes as any decent wizard invariably did during copulation.
"Hrrniih" McGonagall seated herself and demonstratively bent forward to show how proper clitoral stimulation ought to be achieved.
Hermione had lost interest in the situation by then, and had discreetly opened a textbook on her lap, and not a Sexual Studies one either... she found Charms more suited to her mood, wand-waving did more for her than watching her Transfigurations Mistress bounce on an admittedly well-endowed Potions Master.
The end (for now).
I need some kind of joke to wrap it up in the end... any ideas? Want to make it a round robin?
