Goyle's Lament
Title: Goyle's Lament
Rating: G
Main character(s): Gregory Goyle
Warning(s): none
Summary: Gregory Goyle is forced to see everything in a new light after a row with his best friend, Vincent Crabbe.
A/N: Hey all! I'm sure something inspired me to write this and I'd tell you if I could only remember what it was. I love reviews, feedback, comments, and all that fun stuff. I'd love to know what you think.
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Gregory Goyle stared dumbly at the ferret he was supposed to be transfiguring into a cup of tea. Vincent, who was sharing his table, was prodding his own ferret hopelessly. It was clear to Gregory that Vincent was being reminded of the time when Draco was transfigured into a ferret. Vincent kept glancing at Draco, as if to make sure he was still sitting next to Pansy and not running around on the floor as a white rodent, then prodding the ferret all the harder.
Gregory closed his eyes and let out a quiet breath. Vincent was his best friend, but it frightened him that he did not seem to love Draco as he used to.
"Mr. Goyle, please get out your wand and at least attempt to transfigure your ferret" Professor McGonagall's voice sliced through his reverie and he bowed his head.
Do as you're told. The mantra of his childhood echoed back to him.
He fumbled with the straps of his bag and found his wand, a thick and short length of wood. Vincent was watching him, an expression of mild concern on his face.
"Is something wrong, Greg" he mumbled. Gregory shook his head, a stab of gloom piercing his heart. Vincent always called him Greg. Everyone else seemed to forget that he even had a first name. He wondered vaguely if anyone thought of him as anything more than Draco's lackey. That was what Gregory's father had told him to be, though.
"Son, do whatever Draco asks of you."
Gregory knew people expected very little of him. He was used to that. He had been brought up hating muggles and mudbloods and learning that being a pureblood was as good as being royal. He knew that his future was in servitude. That was all he had been taught to do; follow orders.
Gregory's ferret's whiskers began to emit steam and he nearly dropped his wand in surprise. Professor McGonagall was next to him in an instant.
"You have the right idea, Mr. Goyle" she said. "You just lack confidence." He raised his eyes to hers and she sighed. "The lesson is nearly over, but I would appreciate it if you come in when you have a free moment so that you can work on this. I know you can do better." Draco turned around in his seat and glared at Gregory, clearly telling him that he would not allow Gregory to get any extra help from McGonagall. She did not seem to notice and swept away as the bell rang.
Gregory stood up slowly and packed his supplies back into his bag. He would have liked to be able to really transfigure something for once, but he would never dare to disobey Draco.
They all went down to lunch and Draco was talking animatedly about something stupid Potter had done. Vincent and Gregory guffawed obediently, more out of habit than mirth, really.
"Son, we have the Malfoys to thank for our place in the Dark Lord's circle."
Gregory had never questioned what he had been told. He had accepted his fate. He would follow orders, as was expected. Draco, on the other hand, was cocky and proud. The young Malfoy would much rather be giving orders than receiving them and Gregory was quite sure that the boy would not submit to the Dark Lord without a fight.
Gregory had been told to do whatever Draco ordered him to, but what would happen if Draco ordered him not to become a Death Eater? Gregory had no opinions on the Dark Lord, but he loved Draco. He was Draco's servant – forever. Gregory looked uneasily at Vincent. Up until recently, Gregory had believed Vincent to feel the same way as he did. Gregory remembered the argument on the subject and winced slightly. Vincent had said that the Dark Lord was the one he loved – that he would betray Draco if the Dark Lord asked it of him.
Gregory felt so lost now. His best friend, the only one who called him Greg, had turned on Draco, his master. Gregory said nothing about it, allowing Vincent to believe that he shared the same attitude, but he felt alone now. He felt as if his best friend had turned on him.
Who would remember Gregory Goyle when Vincent Crabbe had been tattooed with the Dark Mark? Would anyone even remember that he had a first name?
When they all returned to the Slytherin common room that evening Gregory mumbled an excuse and went to bed early. He pulled the hangings around his bed closed and lay down, two fat tears materialising in his eyes.
He heard Vincent come up later, heard his snores in a matter of moments, and he knew that he was truly alone in the world.
-FIN-