And then it was Goyle's turn, Hermione saw and smiled, yielding her steps to the stocky young man. "How is it that you dance so well?"
"Same way you get to Carnegie Hall," Goyle said slowly.
They smiled at each other, and said, "Practice Practice Practice."
"Purebloods learn from when they're four or so. I wasn't always the best - still aren't," Goyle said solidly, looking nearly too serious for what he was saying. "But I can do a simple waltz."
Hermione found herself coaxing dialogue out of the notoriously taciturn Slytherin, "What's it like in House Slytherin?"
"Oh, I imagine about the same as House Gryffindor, except with different colors." Goyle said with a smile.
"So you spend all your time telling Dumb Gryffindor jokes?" Hermione asked brightly.
"Pretty much. Mind you, I don't create jokes like that." Goyle said stolidly.
"Of course not!" Hermione giggled, "What's your favorite?"
"How many Gryffindors does it take to find a niffler?" Goyle said readily, "All of them, because they're too poor to have anything it wants!"
Hermione giggled, "That's better than the Slytherin jokes, I swear!"
"You know, for courtesy's sake, you have to tell me now," Goyle said. "After all, I did spill one of my house secrets for you."
"Since when are jokes secret?" Hermione asked, stomping her foot to the dance's time.
"Since they might cause offence, of course." Goyle said, smiling broadly.
"Point," Hermione said, "A Slytherin speaks one lie, but tells three. How?"
Goyle nodded, and said, "That is a good one."
Hermione finished the joke, though she figured Goyle had already done so, "He tells one to himself, and one to his intercoursee, and then there's the lie thinks he just said."
They laughed, and the dance was over - Harry and Ron had somehow managed to flank her (Goyle was big enough that she hadn't noticed).
Unfortunately, they seemed to have concluded that after the Notorious Bully Goyle was done, Hermione was safe. They walked off the dance floor headed for the drinks, and Hermione just wanted to call them back.
In front of her, lips pursed, stood Daphne Greengrass. "You'll follow." she said curtly.
Hermione wanted to frown, but trained her lips into a smiled, as she curtsied. Somehow, her gut told her, this was not going to go well.
[a/n: Okay, so other than Pansy, apparently everyone wanted a turn with the Brain. As is usual with my stories, Goyle and Crabbe aren't complete idiots. They're just good Slytherins, and that means having your strengths go unnoticed as much as possible.
Reviews enjoyed, welcomed and appreciated!]