A/N: Halfway new. Only read by one other, and she seemed to adore it. Terribly sorry for the length--it's longer looking in my word document. Let me know what you think!
As we all know, nothing is mine but the horrid plot ;----;
Anything else? I can't think of anything.
So....shoo, go read it!
The tapping echo of Norwegian black dragon leather against the stone of the Great Hall was irritating; Draco Malfoy knew it as a pure and simple fact. He also knew that waiting was irritating, as was standing, and being late and the dull sheen of oil draped over his godfather's hair. Honestly, wasn't the Golden Trio supposed to be golden? Thus the name, no? And, and, and, his godfather was a goddamned potions master! Surely he could concoct some sort of potion to deal with that awful hair of his?
"Uncle, I'm bored out of my bloody brain. Where the fuck are they?" Severus raised a thin, dark eyebrow at his godson and tilted his head slightly. Draco rolled his eyes "I know, I know. 'Language Draco! Watch your language!'" he squeaked in a high pitched, annoying tone. He narrowed his barely visible eyebrows and snapped in a darker voice, "Mother never shuts her trap about language, but really Uncle. It's been two hours!" the tapping started up again, becoming so bad that Draco tipped elegantly over and gracefully collapsed in a heap of expensive dragon leather, silk shirt and wool robes.
Severus sighed to himself and pulled his godson back to his feet, rolling his liquid dark eyes.
"Draco, honestly." The boy glanced up at his godfather, silvery eyes narrowed, lips preparing to utter a sharp retort. "Shut up." Draco burst into laughter.
Harry Potter, Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley were in complete awe as they stepped into the Great Hall. The long frame of their lanky potions professor was neatly folded over the shaking shoulders of the youngest Malfoy. Both sported spots of pink, high on their cheeks, open mouths and a drunken stumble.
"What. Are. They. Doing?!?!" Ron screeched not-so quietly into Hermione's ear. The young woman propped her hand on her hip and frowned at her childhood friend whilst rubbing her left ear irritably.
"What does it look like Ronald?" Ron's eyes widened dramatically.
"A dark arts sacrificial dance!" Harry burst into laughter as Hermione whapped Ron upside the head with her obese Hogwarts a History text.
"You idiot! It's called laughing!!" she pointed a dainty, red painted finger at Harry who was hanging onto Hermione's right shoulder to keep from falling over. "See, Harry's doing it too. It's fine. Leave them alone." She cracked open her book one handedly, and started to read, as if Ron wasn't whimpering, Harry wasn't vomiting laughter and the two Slytherins weren't drunk with amusement.
"B-b-but…. Snape knows how to laugh?!?!" at that moment, Severus let out a great chortle, startling Ron so badly that he passed out cold, flopping to the floor in a tangle of limbs and robes. Harry paused in his celebration of hilarity and poked Ron with his toe.
"You are a pussy Ron. Jeez." He glanced over at Hermione, who was giving her best 'you've been naughty' glare and shivered. The boy-who-lived shuddered once, twice, three times, then fell to his knees laughing. What a thought, what a thought.
Super-duper pretty please review my darling little crackfic ^___^