RMTD: The Godfather
Chapter 3: The Godfather
Chapter Summary: In fandom, Snape is Draco’s Godfather.
Disclaimer: J. K. Rowling and her minions own everything related to Harry Potter and his magical world. I make no monies from this paltry piece of Potterotica.
Author’s Note: My apologizes to Mario Puzo and Frances Ford Coppola.
Author’s Second Note: I’m dedicating this particular chapter to Pentunia Potter, who placed this insistent plot bunny in my head in her review of chapter two.
Deep within the dark recesses of Hogwarts’s dungeons is a room, which typically serves as the Potions Master’s office. Today is no exception; as Professor Severus Snape sits in his teacher’s wooden chair, behind a large mahogany desk. He is gently stroking a young cat that sits relaxed upon the professor’s lap.
In front of him sits his favorite student, if Professor Snape can have a preferred pupil, from the House of Slytherin. The young man leans over the desk as he kisses the ring on his Godfather’s hand. He waits, anxiously, to be granted the privilege of acknowledgement.
“Draco, I see you have come to me with a request. Something you feel only my services can provide. Tell me, Godson, what is it that you want?”
The older man speaks, but his words are some how garbled as if the linings of his cheeks are filled with cotton. He flicks the edge of his mouth with the backs of his fingertips as he listens to his godson’s request.
“Thank you for seeing me, Godfather. Since I have come to Hogwarts, you have provided both comfort and protection to me. But now, I demand justice or at least a good snogging!
“For years Harry Potter has been a bane to my existence. He is always undermining my plans, snatching victory away from me in Quidditch, and taking glory and honor that should rightfully belong to me, the pureblood heir to the Malfoy fortunes.
“But the worse part of all, Godfather, is his sinfully, seductive, shaggable arse! I can’t stop thinking about it; especially when he’s in his Quidditch gear. The way he stares at me as if he knows what I taste like; it’s positively shameful. I’ve become conflicted inside and I can’t decide whether I want to pound him into the ground or, well, pound him into the ground.
“You’ve got to help me, Godfather! I have become as weak as a woman.” At this last confession, the blond bursts into tears. His face falls, hidden behind his hands as he openly weeps bitter tears.
At this blatant display of emotions, Professor Snape leaps up from his desk, quickly closing the distance between them, grabs the young man’s shoulders, shakes him violently, and bellows, “You can act like a wizard!”
Draco stares, with red, wild eyes, at his Godfather, too afraid to say anything or even move a muscle. He knows the power and ruthlessness that his Godfather possesses.
After a moment of tense silence between the two men, Professor Snape closes his eyes, inhales a meditative breath, and calmly continues.
“Draco, no wizard has been able to brew a potion to make someone truly fall in love with him. Love stems from trust, affection, hard work, devotion, and commitment. I’m sorry, but I’m afraid I can’t help you.”
“Love? I’m not seeking love, Godfather. I just want to fuck his brains out.”
“Oh that. Well, here you go. You can have some of this elixir from my personal, private stock. I’ve been slipping this particular potion, Cum Veni Futui, into Professor McGonagall’s pumpkin juice for years.”
* “Cum Veni Futui” translates from Latin, “As soon as I came I fucked.”
Pop Goes the Weasel
Master RTMD List
Chapter Summary: In fandom, Snape is Draco’s Godfather.
Disclaimer: J. K. Rowling and her minions own everything related to Harry Potter and his magical world. I make no monies from this paltry piece of Potterotica.
Author’s Note: My apologizes to Mario Puzo and Frances Ford Coppola.
Author’s Second Note: I’m dedicating this particular chapter to Pentunia Potter, who placed this insistent plot bunny in my head in her review of chapter two.
Deep within the dark recesses of Hogwarts’s dungeons is a room, which typically serves as the Potions Master’s office. Today is no exception; as Professor Severus Snape sits in his teacher’s wooden chair, behind a large mahogany desk. He is gently stroking a young cat that sits relaxed upon the professor’s lap.
In front of him sits his favorite student, if Professor Snape can have a preferred pupil, from the House of Slytherin. The young man leans over the desk as he kisses the ring on his Godfather’s hand. He waits, anxiously, to be granted the privilege of acknowledgement.
“Draco, I see you have come to me with a request. Something you feel only my services can provide. Tell me, Godson, what is it that you want?”
The older man speaks, but his words are some how garbled as if the linings of his cheeks are filled with cotton. He flicks the edge of his mouth with the backs of his fingertips as he listens to his godson’s request.
“Thank you for seeing me, Godfather. Since I have come to Hogwarts, you have provided both comfort and protection to me. But now, I demand justice or at least a good snogging!
“For years Harry Potter has been a bane to my existence. He is always undermining my plans, snatching victory away from me in Quidditch, and taking glory and honor that should rightfully belong to me, the pureblood heir to the Malfoy fortunes.
“But the worse part of all, Godfather, is his sinfully, seductive, shaggable arse! I can’t stop thinking about it; especially when he’s in his Quidditch gear. The way he stares at me as if he knows what I taste like; it’s positively shameful. I’ve become conflicted inside and I can’t decide whether I want to pound him into the ground or, well, pound him into the ground.
“You’ve got to help me, Godfather! I have become as weak as a woman.” At this last confession, the blond bursts into tears. His face falls, hidden behind his hands as he openly weeps bitter tears.
At this blatant display of emotions, Professor Snape leaps up from his desk, quickly closing the distance between them, grabs the young man’s shoulders, shakes him violently, and bellows, “You can act like a wizard!”
Draco stares, with red, wild eyes, at his Godfather, too afraid to say anything or even move a muscle. He knows the power and ruthlessness that his Godfather possesses.
After a moment of tense silence between the two men, Professor Snape closes his eyes, inhales a meditative breath, and calmly continues.
“Draco, no wizard has been able to brew a potion to make someone truly fall in love with him. Love stems from trust, affection, hard work, devotion, and commitment. I’m sorry, but I’m afraid I can’t help you.”
“Love? I’m not seeking love, Godfather. I just want to fuck his brains out.”
“Oh that. Well, here you go. You can have some of this elixir from my personal, private stock. I’ve been slipping this particular potion, Cum Veni Futui, into Professor McGonagall’s pumpkin juice for years.”
* “Cum Veni Futui” translates from Latin, “As soon as I came I fucked.”
Pop Goes the Weasel
Master RTMD List