"Haff-blood."
"Pure-idiot."
"Gryff'ador git."
"Slytherin snake."
"Dunner-head!"
"Squib!"
"Boys!" Professor McGonagall's sharp reproach rang out in the classroom where Seamus Finnigan and Gregory Goyle were supposed to be having their extra tutoring sessions. Both first-years had been deemed "a danger to themselves and others" in their Charms, Transfiguration, and Potions classes, and as such they were now required to attend these additional help sessions.
"Five points from Slytherin and Gryffindor, and it will be another ten for each additional insult," she warned them. "Apologize."
Two mumbled "sorry"s could be heard, but only barely. Professor McGonagall's lips pressed together in disapproval, but she did not say anything more. The boys returned their attention to their books, but it wasn't long before a silent and ferocious arm-wrestling match was underway. Seamus was no match for Goyle in size, but he more than made up for it in stamina. Just as it seemed Seamus had outlasted Goyle...
"MISTER Finnigan and MISTER Goyle!" Professor McGonagall's clipped tones conveyed her anger nearly as much as the scowl on her face as she marched forward. The boys shrank back in terror. "You have earned yourselves detention tonight, and every night until you can demonstrate the ability to remain in one another's company without insulting or attacking each other! Now go before I find cause to remove even more house points!"
The two boys ran from the room, and the angry witch, as fast as they could. Reaching the door at the same time, Seamus and Goyle elbowed each other, both trying to get through first. Professor McGonagall's sigh was lost amid the grunts and muffled cursing as the boys finally fell through the door into the hall.
"Thanks for landin' me in detention, you foul-"
"FINNIGAN!" Professor McGonagall's shout was enough to send both boys scurrying off towards their respective common rooms without further incident.
"Budge over, ya great lumberin' Hippogriff."
Seamus did his best to insinuate himself between the cauldron and Goyle's hulking form, attempting to carefully add the nettle thistles to their potion. Professor Snape had grown tired of their inability to last one class without blowing something up, so now they were the only third-year students in a remedial Potions work session.
Just as Seamus began to add the thistles, Goyle smacked him on the upper arm, causing Seamus to scatter the ingredient all over the table.
"Oops," the Slytherin boy rasped unrepentantly. Muttering under his breath about ignorant toerags who weren't worthy of eating dragon dung, Seamus started scooping up the thistles and dumping them haphazardly into the cauldron.
A loud and violent explosion brought Professor Snape running from his desk, and Seamus found himself hauled unceremoniously down to the floor, where he was curiously being sheltered by...Goyle? The great brute had used his arms to block most of the flying potion from hitting Seamus' face.
As Professor Snape ranted about their collective intelligence being on par with the flea-sized brain of a bowtruckle, Seamus stared hard at Goyle. The bigger boy just shrugged and began to remove his arms, which was when Seamus noticed that their potion had splattered all over Goyle.
"Professor, Goyle's growing blue fur!" Seamus cried. Professor Snape glanced at them only long enough to confirm this before returning his attention to the mess of their still-flaming potion.
"Hospital," he bit out, and Seamus grabbed Goyle's arm to drag him to the door. "And you have both received a T on this assignment!"
Rolling his eyes and calling their Potions Master every foul name he could think of, Seamus towed Goyle to the Hospital Wing in short order. He didn't feel right staying while Madam Pomfrey fixed Goyle up, but neither did he wish to return to the dungeon classroom, so he fidgeted awkwardly while the blue fur was removed.
Finally, Madam Pomfrey declared Goyle as good as new (Seamus snorted to himself wondering if that could really be deemed an improvement or not), and the boys set off back to the classroom to face the wrath of Professor Snape.
"Thanks for waiting," Goyle rasped unexpectedly.
"Er, tweren't nothin'," Seamus responded hesitantly. "I guess... I owe ya thanks for shieldin' me, in any case."
Goyle just nodded and the boys continued in silence for a while. As they neared the classroom, they could hear Professor Snape still swearing roundly about their idiocy.
"I still don't like ya none," Seamus felt compelled to say as they stood before the door.
"Same," Goyle said, turning to look at Seamus.
Inexplicably, both boys grinned.
"Hey, Finney-gen, you're uglier'n a house-elve," Goyle taunted the sandy-haired boy.
"Ya think so?" Seamus responded. "At least me mum's not so ugly even a Dementor wouldn't kiss her!"
A chorus of "ooohs" and "are you going to take that?" echoed around the library as a group of fifth-years studied—or were pretending to study—for their upcoming Defense exam.
Goyle smiled, which only served to make him look even more brainless than usual. "Seen better-lookin' trolls," he said, and several other Slytherins hooted in amusement.
"What, did someone try Reparo on your face? Didn't work very well, did it?" Seamus countered.
"Leas' mine don't look like a centaur's behind," Goyle responded.
"Skrewt-lover." Seamus' eyes gleamed.
"Trelawney fancier."
"Hufflepuff wannabe."
"Prat." They had run out of creative things to say to one another now, it seemed.
"Tosspot."
"'sfair." Goyle laughed, and Seamus joined in. Insulting each other had become somewhat of a tradition between the two of them ever since their string of Potions detentions two years ago. The boys were by no means friends, but they were hardly sworn enemies. In fact, their name-calling sessions had become rather infamous among the students in their year, and both Seamus and Goyle were always on the look-out for new and better insults to fling at the other.
Everyone abruptly returned their attention to their books when a certain pink toad entered the library, looking around for someone to punish. Unfortunately, today it seemed that Seamus had won that dubious honor.
"Ah, Mr. Finnigan, your shirt is untucked again, I see." Umbridge rubbed her pudgy hands together gleefully. "Detention is in order, I believe. Come with me."
Seamus had no choice, but as he stood and walked past Goyle's table, he at least felt a brief flare of happiness as he pushed all the Slytherin boy's books to the floor, whispering "doxy dung" as he passed.
"I told you to do it again!" Amycus Carrow's voice rang out in the tense silence of the dungeon classroom where tonight's detentions were being held. Seamus glared up at his tormentors and spat blood out of his mouth. The boy standing over him seemed frozen, his wand still pointed at Seamus but his eyes on the Carrows.
The boy was no doubt at a loss for words, which was hardly a new occurrence. Knowing that the Carrows would step in if the boy didn't act soon, Seamus quickly came to a decision. Dragging himself to his feet, Seamus growled, "You're every bit as pretty as ol' Dolores, you know that, Goyle?"
The mean little eyes shifted their attention back to Seamus, and when Goyle finally regained his voice, he murmured only, "Cockroach," before casting the Crucio again.
As Seamus struggled to remain upright against the pain, he screamed, "Gormless-!"
If any of their classmates had been watching, however, they might have noted that neither boy's heart seemed to be in it.
Racing down the corridor, Seamus turned a corner and ran smack into a solid, immovable wall. Except that this wall smelled of fire and smoke and something else even more unpleasant, and was taking great sobbing breaths, besides.
Leaping back, Seamus leveled his wand at the other person, only to stop a second before casting a curse as he looked into the tear-stained face of Gregory Goyle. Goyle's wand, too, was at the ready, but like Seamus, he seemed unsure of what to do next.
For the space of several heartbeats, the boys stared one another down, until finally, Goyle's wand lowered just the tiniest bit. "Coward," he whispered to Seamus, although Seamus rather thought Goyle was directing the word at himself.
"Spineless," Seamus muttered back as his wand arm fell to his side. Then he was moving again, running past Goyle in the pursuit of other, more dangerous Death Eaters. He dimly heard Goyle's heavy footsteps thundering off in the other direction, and Seamus could only hope that he hadn't just made the biggest mistake of his life.
A/N: Written for the wonderful WeasleySeeker's "Relate" competition on HPFC! I drew Seamus and Goyle. I always kind of thought that if you removed Harry and Draco from the situation, the rest of the Gryffindors and Slytherins may not have had as much of a problem with one another. I wouldn't go so far as to say they were friendly, necessarily, but I don't think they'd have had the same levels of animosity. Anyway, Goyle was the one in the books who never pronounced anything right, so I tried to do that here. Actually, when I was reading about him on Harry Potter Wiki, I felt really bad-his description was, "Goyle seemed to lack all intelligence, magical talent, and independent thought". I mean, OUCH! That seems harsh. He's practically a skrewt. Anyway, some of the insults were taken from HPInsults on twitter, and others from various forums. Just google 'Harry Potter insults' and you'll find a bunch.
I'm not JK Rowling, fyi.