Gregory Goyle popped a seventh doughnut into his mouth. He was giggling loudly at one of Malfoy's stupid yet quite entertaining jokes about that Potter kid. Goyle always enjoyed breakfast; it was his favorite meal of the day. Between the Pumpkin Pastries and Cinnamon Buns and Bertie Botts Every Flavor Beans and cereal… Goyle was in heaven.
"Ew, Goyle, you spit all over me again!" yelled a disgusted Malfoy.
Goyle swallowed hard. He was having trouble controlling his spit. Malfoy was so hard to please. If Goyle didn't laugh at Malfoy's mealtime jokes, then Goyle got beat up or ridiculed. Yet, when he did try to laugh, he always sprayed food everywhere. Malfoy was so picky; nothing Goyle did would ever completely satisfy Malfoy. Goyle was always really frustrated about this. In fact, most nights, while laying in bed half-asleep, he'd think of Malfoy: his flowing blond locks, his cunning smiles, his captivating eyes. Yet Goyle knew that it was silly to think of Malfoy in such a frivolous manner.
"Sorry, Malfoy," Goyle apologized once he had finished swallowing the huge doughnut. He shot a quick glance at his friend. Malfoy was examining his own fingernails and staring up at the Great Hall's ceiling. Goyle followed his friend's initiative and stared up at the endless gray sky above. He sighed quietly. What he wouldn't give to be laying side-by-side in the wilderness with Malfoy, gazing up at a star-filled night—
"Goyle, what is wrong with you?" snapped Malfoy so loudly that Pansy glanced up worriedly, halfway down the Slytherin table. Goyle saw Malfoy's and Pansy's eyes meet for a moment. God, Goyle hated Pansy with all of his heart. Hated her so much…
'Forget about stupid Pansy,' said a little voice in Goyle's head. 'Forget about Malfoy, forget about the sky.' Goyle grabbed his thirteenth doughnut and plunged it into his mouth, forcing the terrible thoughts out of his mind.
Goyle arrived at double Potions later that day in a slightly better mood. It was his first lesson back at Hogwarts, and Goyle was always excited to see his favorite professor, Snape. Professor Snape never gave Goyle a hard time for being slow; Goyle felt that Snape actually appreciated his simple mind. Goyle's mood sank to an all-time low, however, when he saw that an old man, Professor Slughorn, was there instead. After giving an introductory speech, he dished out cauldron assignments for the year. Goyle had always been partnered with Crabbe or Malfoy in the past; Snape knew that they enjoyed working together. This year was entirely different. Goyle got assigned to Ronald Weasley, who had a mop of orange hair and was notorious for his horrible potion-making skills.
Goyle didn't even try to suppress a loud annoyed groan as he grabbed his ingredients and headed toward the Gryffindor side of the room to meet Ron. Ron gave Goyle an equally disgusted look.
"All right, class, the first potion we are making today…"
Goyle tuned Slughorn out at once. He gazed about, nervous that many of his companions were situated on the other side of the room. Goyle looked at Harry, Neville, and Dean before his eyes fell on Ron, who was sitting less than a foot from Goyle. Goyle detected instantly that Ron was also bored out of his mind, definitely a plus. Goyle couldn't stand the smart kids like Hermione. He stared at Ron's hair and at his robes. Goyle's eyes widened slightly as thoughts began to cross his mind.
'No,' he told himself. 'You're just bored, it's natural for your mind to wander.' Goyle gazed at Ron's beautiful pumpkin-colored hair. 'No, not beautiful,' he reminded himself. 'You are staring at Ronald Weasley. Think of something else. Think. Think.' Yet even when Goyle turned around to stare at Malfoy, he could see visions of Ron dancing in his head. Goyle was wide-eyed and shaking with surprise.
Ron, though still visibly unhappy with his cauldron partner, turned to Goyle and nudged him. Goyle stared at his arm where Ron had touched him and took a slow breath.
"Well did you hear anything that fat man was saying?" Ron asked. "What page are we supposed to turn to?"
"Um," responded Goyle, mesmerized.
"Oy, Hermione, what page?" shouted Ron.
Goyle's face grew with rage. Hermione, Hermione, Hermione. All Ron ever talked about was Hermione. He was beginning to get sick.
Ron shoved Goyle again, this time substantially harder than the previous time, although Goyle still was pleased with it. "Goyle, what's wrong with you?" Ron asked, standing up and backing away slowly. Goyle reached out his chubby arms. He wanted to grab Ron so badly…
'NO!' shouted a voice in Goyle's head firmly. 'Stop acting like a creep!'
So instead, Goyle reached down to pick up the large black cauldron, which he carefully repositioned on its metal stand. He tried to get himself to focus on the page which Ron had turned both of their books to. The potion looked complicated. Goyle's head was swimming. He couldn't make out the page, he couldn't read, not with Ron right next to him, not here. Goyle could feel the warmth of Ron's body hitting him, he could feel Ron's heartbeat as it shook the ground Goyle was standing on. He wanted to collapse so badly. Yet again, Goyle reminded himself to focus. After deeply studying the spellbook, he decided that it was necessary to chop up some pomegranate seeds. He did so hastily, dumping large chunks instead of finely ground slivers into the cauldron. Ron was also attempting to add ingredients, but it appeared that he had skipped ahead, missing several important instructions. Ron dumped a dark purple liquid into the cauldron, and turned his back to it to grab another bottle. Goyle stared down at the cauldron, which was smoking like crazy. He had a bad feeling about this, there were flames, they were getting bigger…
Acting on impulse, Goyle lunged at Ron, hugging him tightly to his chest as he darted away from the smoking cauldron. Ron squeaked with surprise, but not a moment later their cauldron exploded—everywhere. The spot where Ron had been standing was soaked with the potion, which was still smoking and eating away at the floor tiles, burning a huge hole in the ground. Ron looked in surprise from the space where he was standing, to Goyle's arms, still tightly wrapped around him, then back to the cauldron. Goyle could feel Ron tremble as he held his thin body.
Finally, Goyle decided that he should release Ron, who was still surprised. The whole potions room was staring at their exploded cauldron. Ron faced Goyle, still shaking. "You… you… how d-did you know it-it-it would explode?" Ron stuttered, looking up at Goyle in wide-eyed awe.
Goyle's heart melted as he grunted "Idunno" at Ron in one swift syllable.
"No, really," Ron exclaimed. "If you hadn't grabbed me, I'd be in the hospital wing for sure, if not dead."
Goyle didn't know what to say. He looked into Ron's beautiful blue eyes and then let his gaze shift all the way to Ron's feet. Goyle screamed like a little girl. The potion from their cauldron had splattered onto Ron's sneakers and was quickly eating away at the leather. Goyle dropped to the ground and immediately started tugging Ron's shoe off. "Ow! Ow! Ow!" Ron yelled, as the potion ate through his entire shoe and was starting to hit his bare skin.
Professor Slughorn, who had been seemingly oblivious to the whole situation before Goyle's scream, rushed over. "Oho, Ronald, it seems as though your potion has turned into some sort of acid," he muttered, shaking his head. Slughorn waved his wand at Ron's shoes, which instantly repaired them.
"Goyle, you'd better take Ron to the hospital wing just in case," Slughorn said, nudging the two out the door.
Goyle couldn't believe his luck. He was alone with Ron already. Ron limped toward the dungeon's stairs as Goyle's throat croaked. "Er, um, Ron, would you like some help?"
Ron grimaced as he put weight on his left foot. "Ow, um, actually, I think I'm gonna be… OW!" Ron yelled.
Goyle immediately rushed to Ron's side and scooped him up in his arms. Ron couldn't weigh much more than a hundred pounds. Goyle knew he was several times Ron's weight, but he knew that the numbers didn't matter.
Goyle got halfway to the hospital wing when he stopped for a moment, panting. Ron's seemingly light body now felt like a huge weight, and Goyle was exhausted. He set Ron down on a long bench. "How are you doing, dear?" he asked Ron gently.
"My foot still kinda hurts but I'm fine," responded Ron, obviously ignoring or failing to hear that Goyle had just called him "dear". "You know, I really don't want to go to the hospital wing and have Madam Pomfrey fuss over me. Plus, she'll keep me overnight, and I really don't want to miss Quiddich practice."
"I understand," said Goyle lovingly. "But now that we're out of potions, let's go do something fun, something that doesn't require a lot of walking."
"What do you have in mind?" Ron asked inquisitively.
"Well," Goyle started. He didn't know how to put this. "Um, would you like to have an insider's look at the Slytherin common room?"
"Sure, why not?" asked Ron. "I've um… never been in there!" Ron could walk on his own now, although he occasionally leaned over Goyle's shoulder for support, which Goyle enjoyed immensely.
Not long after, they arrived at the Commons. It was fairly dark and decorated in lavish dark green upholstery. Ron seated himself on a couch and Goyle sat next to him. There was an awkward silence. Goyle breathed in deeply and swallowed, trying not to sound as nervous as he felt. He knew he had to do this. He turned and faced Ron, and gazed into his eyes.
Ron looked back, clearly not afraid. As Goyle leaned in, however, Ron blurted out, somewhat randomly, "I'm not gay!"
Goyle pulled his head back, and looked at Ron caringly. "Shh, it's ok Ron. I won't tell anybody, it's okay…"
Ron looked uncertain. "Goyle… I am so grateful that you saved my life. Really. Just, I've never been kissed before, I dunno…"
Goyle saw that Ron was unsure but not frightened. "Ron… neither have I. Well, I've never been kissed by a guy before, anyway…. Our first time will be together."
Ron looked up. "Of course, of course," he sighed, confused but ready. Goyle leaned in slowly, as Ron sat there petrified, waiting expectantly for it to come.
Suddenly, a door burst open and Goyle heard footsteps quickly approaching. He didn't want to pull away, he didn't…
But Ron was startled, he moved away. Goyle saw that Malfoy had entered the Slytherin commons and was not very happy.
"GOYLE HOW COULD YOU?" raged Malfoy, fighting back tears. "You, I always thought, you…"
Goyle looked at Malfoy in alarm. "What did I do?" he asked quietly.
"You.. I… I thought you were in love with ME!" screamed Malfoy bitterly.
"Malfoy… Malfoy..." Goyle was almost giggling, he was so surprised and shocked. "I didn't know you liked me…"
"Like you, Goyle? I was mad about you! I had it all planned out! A candlelight dinner, a picnic near the Forbidden Forest… we were meant for each other, Goyle!" Sobbing, Malfoy turned away. He stomped his foot several times and then turned back. "I knew that you liked me, all you ever did was stare at me, Goyle! And then here you are, with this filthy half-blood, alone, in the Commons…"
Goyle stared at Ron, who was on the verge of tears, but he looked more embarrassed than outraged. "Malfoy, nothing happened, of course I like you…" but he could tell it was too late, the damage had been done.
"Goyle, get OUT of my life!" roared Malfoy, storming off, slamming the door behind him.
Goyle turned to Ron with a slightly amused grin. Although Goyle was torn inside, he was still here with Ron, his favorite little Ron. "So, where were we?" Goyle asked playfully.
Ron screamed louder than Malfoy had and bolted out of the commons room. Goyle sat there alone for a long time, sobbing uncontrollably. His life was ruined.