(Untitled)

[jaildawg]

My godson, Harry James Potter, son of one of the greatest Marauders to ever exist (myself coming in a close second, you understand, despite what Moony may tell you) will soon be joining the Hogwarts staff. Chosen above the dozens of applicants to take over for Madam Hooch (including Ian McCulloch of Kestrals fame -- or lack thereof, as the case

Comments

[dracolicious]

I for one am rather fond of "Taskmaster."

[boywholives]

You shush!

[dracolicious]

No.

[boywholives]

What's that look for?

[dracolicious]

Leave off my godfather, will you? It isn't especially kind to entice his male friend away and harass him to the point of getting oneself poisoned. Insult to injury, really.

[boywholives]

Snape can take care of himself, can't he? Surely he doesn't need you to defend him.

[dracolicious]

He is far too busy failing students to bother defending himself. Someone ought to do it.

[boywholives]

Does he compensate you for your good deed?

[boywholives]

What did I tell you about calling me Taskmaster!

[dracolicious]

Taskmaster.

[boywholives]

Your master.

[dracolicious]

Shall I ready the bondage materials, Taskmaster?

[dracolicious]

I think we ought to fashion Potter something of a cape to wear while he's cavorting about in the sky, chasing after rogue first years.

[boywholives]

Have you gone off your rocker?

[dracolicious]

Oh, I suspect I'll be enjoying plenty of rocking, thanks.

[boywholives]

You're awfully cocksure, aren't you.

[dracolicious]

And perhaps a red and gold spandex number to accompany it. . . .

[boywholives]

In your dreams.

[dracolicious]

Precisely.

[boywholives]

Your dreams are clearly quite different from mine.