Disclaimer: No one belongs to me. Don't sue, no money being made off of this!

Dedication: To Eros and Brendan, for being around when I wrote it and offering insight.

Author's note: There is no chronology to this. It's basically the Madame of a brothel in Hogsmeade talking about some of the clients that have come in over the years...if I left out any characters that you'd like to read about, let me know. I'll do a continuation if I get enough requests. :-)

The title comes from the Dolly Parton movie Best Little Whore House in Texas.

Ah, welcome to Madame Adella's! Hidden deep beneath Hogsmeade, we offer special services that can be found no where else under one roof for quite a distance in every direction. All of our girls are trained witches, you know. Oh, you'd just like to share a glass of wine and talk some? That I can do, that I can do.

This is quite good wine. I feel a bit lightheaded already.... you’d like to hear about some of my customers? Well, I have a policy not to talk about them.... But if you insist.... I’ve seen a lot over the years you know. Where to begin...

The Weasley twins are no strangers here. I smile and nod at them as they come in, swaggering slightly, cocky grins on their faces. I chuckle at them, shaking my head. They are good boys, and treat my girls well. Apparently they are as carefree and wild in bed as in everything else. They are quite welcome here, as handsome as they are humorous. I enjoy hearing the girls talk about them the morning after...I myself rarely offer my services, but live vicariously through them younger girls.

I wag my finger at the twins as they saunter up to the desk. Fred-or maybe it is George-only widens his grin. They both kiss me on the cheek, and I laugh.

"Welcome back, boys." I say, my eyes glittering as much as theirs. "I have something I think you may like..." I watch as their eyes light up at that.

"Oh, do tell." One says, leaning casually on the desk.

"Miranda and Melina." I say. New girls, a pair of twins. They are wild as well, black haired beauties with twinkling blue eyes and mischievous manners. I feel they will suit Fred and George well.

I do not quite shudder as Draco Malfoy slides in, but I wish to. His swagger is different from that of the twins....there is no light heartedness in it. It is an arrogant walk, and he sneers as he approaches me. The girls do not often talk of his pleasures, but when they do....

There is talk of whips and harsh words, backhanded slaps and insults, and sometimes sobbing confessions.... he is a troubled young man. But he is not turned away, we understand his need. There are girls who are happy to deal with him, he is handsome and their tastes run similar.

The look he gives me is full of contempt, but I know things about him and let it pass. I suspect he is more contemptuous of himself then anyone else.

"The usual." He drawls, putting his money down. I only nod, and slide him they key to Katrina's room. She is well known for her...exotic tastes. She enjoys receiving pain as much as Malfoy enjoys giving it. He takes the key with an odd look in his eyes, half-excited half-afraid. I sometimes wonder if he does not turn the tables every so often....

Hagrid is one of my favorite visitors. He always blushes when he enters, and mumbles greetings. He enjoys simply sitting down and having a cup of tea with a lovely girl who makes him feel special. All my girls enjoy his visits. He is kind and gentle, and always so polite. He makes the girls feel special as well, and he has always treated me with respect.

"Good day to yeh, ma'am." He says, wringing his hands together.

"Hello Hagrid." I respond. "Dessa is waiting for you....she was hoping you'd be by tonight." Dessa is a timid young thing, with wide brown eyes and think dark curls. I see Hagrid blush. I have a suspicion he is sweet on Dessa, and she would far rather Hagrid then anyone else. She enjoys his company, and he makes her laugh. I do well, matching up my girls to my visitors. "The tea's already on..."

I do not recognize the nervous young man who scampers in, looking about as though he expects dementors to leap out of the walls and seize him. He sees me, and adjusts his horn rimmed glasses, fixing me with a look I believe is supposed to be superior. But the nervous twitching of his mouth and his constant gulping spoil it slightly.

"May I help you?" I ask, and he jumps at my voice. He straitens his robes, and squeaks something I cannot understand. Flushing, he tries again.

"I simply came by to see if the rumors were true. I am shocked....aghast..." He raises himself up, and I am struck by his resemblance to Fred and George...ah, it must be Percy Weasley. I have heard much about him. I decide he could use with some relaxing. "This is a....a house of negotiable affection, isn't it?" I can tell there is curiosity behind the shame.

"What a charming way of putting it." I agree. "Yes, it is. A cup of tea?"

He nods stiffly, and sits down. I pour him a cup of tea and watch his eyes as Carina, a tall lithe brunette, walks across the main room. His eyes follow her, and he nearly spills his tea in his lap. Smiling, I slide the key to her room across the desk. "This one's on the house."

And now there is not a Weasley boy who has not visited here over the years. I can tell that this is the youngest, Ron. He reminds me much of Fred and George in manner, but more of Percy and Bill in looks. He must be in his fifth or sixth year. Starting later then most of his brothers, I muse. He is nervous, but is trying to hide it. I smile to myself as he attempts to achieve the light swagger that Charlie, Bill, Fred and George all slipped into so naturally. But it is awkward, and stilted.

"Hello." I say, and he nods to me, rather curtly, but I know it is nerves. I can tell a virgin when I see one, and the young Weasley may as well have had a neon sign hanging over his head. With a catchy little jingle.

"Uh..." He swallows, and tries to lean on the desk. His arm slips, and he nearly falls. I stifle my chuckles. He blushes profusely, and mumbles something to me. I shake my head, and purse my lips. Reina, I think. A tender blond, well used to the more inexperienced boys. I slide the key to Ron with a small smile. He takes it, still trying to swagger. He enters the room, and not five minute later he rushes out, stammering apologies. The top of his robe is undone, and his face is as red as his hair...

Hogwarts teachers are less frequent then the students, but they do come in. Remus Lupin is a rare visitor, but a welcome one. He comes as much for the company as for the copulation. His eyes are tired, I see and his face is drawn. His tastes are as wholesome and humble as his faded robes, and he never stays long. I wonder what is his secret, for I know he has one. I can see it in his gaze, the hold of his head, and from what the girls tell me of his love making. He is a lonely man, and I can only hope we here help ease him some.

"Welcome back, Remus." I say softly, and he only nods, placing his money on the desk. He hardly ever speaks to me, or to the girls. He smiles, a smile as worn as everything else about him. He has been through much. A man like him should not need to come to a place like this. But he always thanks them, and they claim that he often does so with tears in his eyes....

Oliver Wood. A confident, warm young man. Though often so tense, and sometimes quite high string. I admire his good looks, and his muscular build. He is well put together. Another favorite among the girls, though some complain he talks to much. And apparently makes many, many Quidditch references in bed. A few of the girls do not feel like being Quaffle to his Keeper...

But he is always good, or so I hear. The athletic types often are, though usually they are strong and silent. He walks in with a smile on his face, but there are tight lines around his eyes. He worries to much. Whether it be grades, Quiddtich, or something else, Wood always worried. At least he can work off some of that tension here...

There is only one man I do not like to see walk through that door. The Hogwarts caretaker, Filch. A nasty, snickering little man who comes here only because he can get a lover no other way. But he has never mistreated a girl, not unless one counted leering looks and perverse cackles. I wanted to cringe as his eyes traveled over me, and his lips part in a lecherous sneer. He is nothing but a dirty old man, who enjoys slobbering over young girls.

"What you got for me today?" He drawls, not hiding his lascivious stare. Not answering, I simply toss a key at him. Magda doesn't mind the letches, let her deal with him tonight. I for one will be pleased when he is gone from under my roof....

In ten years, Severus Snape's routine has not changed in the least. I see to him myself, I always have. He asks for nothing more then a massage, a simple back and neck rub. One hour, sometimes two. I rub his back, and sometimes he speaks, and sometimes he is silent. The worst days are when he is silent; he simply lies tense beneath my hands glaring at nothing. Oftentimes he will grip the sheets beneath him in his hands, and his lips will curl into a silent snarl. When he speaks it is to complain. About the students, the other teachers, the past, the future...I know it is truly this service he pays for.

He has never made any move to touch me, and has never invited me to touch him in any way. He too is a lonely, desperate man. He has a dark past, that much is obvious. He often speaks of death and betrayal, and the futility of life. And always without emotion, without inflection. He is a deeply troubled man, and I fear for his soul.....

I fear I have spoken too much. I have never spoken of my clients before! This wine must be strong indeed...I must depart now. If you truly wish to know more, please look me up again. The door to Madame Adella's is always open....