Chapter 5

[Gregory Goyle]

'Just my luck, I guess,' Gregory thought with a sigh as he followed Professor Snape through the long passages of Hogwarts dungeon. They weren't that far from Slytherin's Common Room, a fact that still struck him as odd. 'It's almost like they want them to be evil. They even gave the kids a lair,' he thought to himself. Seriously, there were plenty of empty spaces in Hogwarts. He could confirm that with total certainty. Yet they still went and put them in a dungeon of all places.

"Is something the matter, Mr. Goyle?" Professor Snape asked with a certain emphasis that implied the question had only one acceptable answer.

"No, sir," he said immediately. His back went straight and Gregory at the very least tried to maintain eye contact with the black-haired professor, who regarded him with a piercing glare. Despite the man's thin frame, he had to admit that his gloomy aura and way of talking made the man pretty intimidating. It was as if his whole persona screamed that he was someone that you would sorely regret being on the bad side of.

He was one of the few people Gregory actually remembered about. Not as much because of the movies, but because it was pretty much impossible to not have heard about this man if you had ever used the internet at least semi-regularly for any period of your life. Some way or another, his name would appear at some. Like Han Solo from Star Wars, or Gandalf from Lord of the Rings, he was one of those characters that became pretty much immortalized with the franchise, even if they weren't the main one.

Admittedly, it was still not enough to form a full opinion about the raven-haired man, but it was leagues better than most other people he had come across so far. Gregory vaguely remembered the professor being kind of a dick to Harry and pretty much anyone. He never got to see the last few movies, but he had read and been told that the grumpy man followed the antihero archetype. A 'tread in the shadows while working for the light' kind of character, with a life filled with misery but also unshakable will.

He had no idea how that tied up with being a dick to Harry. And pretty much everyone else, for that matter, if his attitude was anything to go by. Still, he guessed the man had a motive which was for Harry's benefit in the end? Gregory wasn't sure.

Snape regarded him for a few more uncomfortable seconds before he turned back promptly. The long robes flared along with the movements in a fashion that felt a tad too dramatic to have been unintentional. He had to hold back a snort at the idea of such a gloomy man taking inspiration from an old Count Dracula movie. His situation was already bad enough. He didn't need to make it worse by laughing.

After a couple of turns and a long minute of oppressive silence broken only by their echoed steps, they reached the Potion's Classroom. A big room that stretched wide and long enough to accommodate at least twenty wide dark wooden tables with small cauldrons and vials. A number of objects were displayed inside the shelves and cabinets that littered themselves across the entirety of the walls.

There were wooden boxes, plants, animal parts, and even some glass containers with unknown fluid and even more unknown ingredients floating in them. The whole place was filled to the brim with potion ingredients, it seemed. Or, at least, he assumed they were, given where they were. He could barely recognize a fraction of them, admittedly. If he was being honest with himself, perhaps this detention business wouldn't be as bad as he thought it would be. Potions had already climbed up to the top of his ranking on favorite subjects.

He heard a cough in front of him which startled him and forced him out of his inspection. Professor Snape was in front of him with a frown on his face. An unimpressed eyebrow rose questioningly, probably as to what was taking him so long.

Right, he was supposed to have known this room for more than a year and a half by this point. The man-turned-kid guessed that suddenly being awestruck at a common sight wasn't exactly great for his cover. Who could blame him though, really?

"Sorry, Professor," Gregory said. It was the first thing that came to mind for him to say. Hopefully, it would be enough.

For his part, Snape just regarded him with the same glare he did in the hallway, perhaps even more intensely. After maintaining it for just long enough that Gregory started to squirm, the professor turned and pointed to a small collection of pewter cauldrons that rested on top of one of the tables.

"If your… thoughts are important enough to make me lose my time, then perhaps you should engage in them while cleaning the first-year's batch of cauldrons?" Snape said with a small pause on the word "thoughts" almost as if implying he was too dumb to have those. "I hope this task is something that even someone with your… skills should be able to accomplish. Mr. Goyle?" Yeah, no. The man was calling him stupid outright.

Rude.

"Yes, Professor. I will get it done." What else could he say? No? That would just make the situation worse. His late night adventures had cost Slytherin fifteen points, something that the rest of the year – and many from other years – didn't fail to complain and remark about just within earshot of him all throughout breakfast.

Luckily, things hadn't escalated beyond that, but who knew what would happen if he suddenly decided to be rebellious, and that cost him even more points taken from their precious house rivalry. He didn't think things would get physical, but magic opened a lot of ways to make someone's life miserable.

Without needing more prompts, Gregory got to work cleaning the dark metal pots with a scrub and some rags. Snape had at least provided him with those and some cleaning products, so that was nice of him… he supposed. The man in question just sat at his table located on top of the side podium and started working on what he assumed was some kind of paperwork.

Gregory looked at the gathered cauldrons on top of the table and then at his brush. It was one of those that looked like it belonged in a toilet, a circular head full of bristles and a stick to use as a handle. The name for it escaped him at the moment, but it didn't really matter.

Then he shrugged his shoulders and got to work. They wouldn't clean themselves after all, or at least not for the moment since this was supposed to be a detention. It was a monotonous task and a bit gross if the odd dark green liquid inside the cauldron was any indication, but it was hardly the worst task ever. Certainly not as bad as he'd feared.

'This isn't that bad. Things could be worse,' he thought to himself, trying to add some optimism to his situation.

[}-o-{]

'"This isn't that bad", I thought. "It could be worse!" I thought,' Gregory mocked his past self in his mind.

While he cursed his past self and everything he stood for, he continued scrubbing through the bottom of one of the dark metal pots. His breath was a bit ragged and his arms very sore. Given the state of his current body, he was fairly sure this might be the most exercise the previous Gregory had ever gotten. It wasn't the physical exhaustion that had gotten him frustrated though. It was that despite it, he was barely making any progress.

Gregory removed his completely soiled brush and dipped it again inside the bucket of cleaning products next to him all the while, glaring bloody murder at the cauldron that seemed to be doing everything in its power to not be cleaned. A sticky green semi-liquid substance clung to the interior walls and refused to be cleaned easily. The thing was like an unholy combination of snot, dried grease, and super glue. Trying to scrub it out felt like the first time he went to the gym and put far too much weight on the amount of reps out of ignorance.

Instead of being washed, the substance just clung to the brush and smeared itself across the cauldron if he pushed too hard, positively erasing his previous work and being forced to start again. And all that was to be done with a very dirty and somehow oily brush that needed to be completely cleaned again and again every few strokes.

He was beyond done with this task. He was sure that it had already been a few hours, and he had barely gotten through half of the cauldrons. A despondent explosive sigh escaped his lips as he looked at the assorted dirty containers, all filled with the same greenish liquid.

He wondered what the first years were even doing to cause such a massive mess. And why so many of them? Did the whole class fail a potion in the same way? Or is it just one accursed pair that has been failing at the exact same thing over and over all throughout the year so far and then left their cauldrons here? Who even brought that many cauldrons to school? Did they just buy new ones every time this happened because they didn't want to clean them? Whatever the answer, Gregory hoped with all his heart that the ones responsible for this got detention just as bad as this one.

"Continue your task, Mr. Goyle," Snape said without even looking up. "Neither of us will leave until you are done, and I would like to retire to my room sometime before the end of the winter break." That was another thing that had gotten him increasingly frustrated. Whenever he stopped cleaning for even a few seconds, the man wouldn't miss the chance to make a snide remark about him.

"Yes, sir," he responded through gritted teeth. He was half convinced the man just wanted him to lash out and take points out of Slytherin. He could say that he refused out of a sense of self-preservation towards his current peers. They had almost two years of practice with their magic, after all, compared to his own paltry less than a week learning period. However, saying so would be a lie since it was mostly out of petty spite to not give the man what he wanted.

With a huff, he grabbed the brush yet again and continued his almost futile scrubbing.

Meanwhile, perhaps as an attempt to escape the monotonous boredom, his mind occupied itself with trying to come up with reasons as to why the potion had ended up in such a way. And what were they trying to make in the first place? He hadn't finished his first-year material in potions just yet, but he was fairly sure "dark green goop" wasn't in the curriculum. It was a decent pastime to distract himself from the frustrating task, he found. The fact that it was like a puzzle to solve helped to make the impromptu game more fun at least.

'Hmm, this one has bits and pieces of dried herbs. Whoever tried to crush this did a terrible job," Gregory thought to himself as he looked at said dried leaves that now clung completely stuck to the edge of the cauldron. It was as if whoever made it just threw everything without care. He could tell that the herbs weren't just added as they were given how some parts were just too small compared to others. It looked more like they just couldn't be bothered to use the mortar and rushed through that step.

His second clue came from a piece of what at first glance looked like a white thin stick that clung to the surface of the green goop. He hadn't given it much thought at first, but curiosity got the better of him, and decided to put his hand inside it to grab the white piece. He doubted the substance was dangerous given that he was not given any safety gear. If it was… Well, he would take the infirmary over continuing with this torture.

It felt as gross in his hands as it felt when cleaning it with the brush, if not even grosser. Yet, Gregory persevered and soon enough he managed to get the stick out of goop and observed it as he rolled it on his hand and cleaned it with a rag with the other.

The white piece turned out to be a white spine. A fish spine to be precise. It was a bit flabby given that it had been inside the cauldron for at least a few days and also cooked previously. The fact that it hadn't dissolved entirely possibly meant that the fires were not particularly strong… or the green goop was a great insulator. Either or, if he was honest.

Another thing he had noticed as he moved the goop was that there were more smaller shards of spines thrown around. He couldn't tell before given that by this point they were transparent, after losing most of its consistency. However, the texture of the pieces as he scrapped the fin out of place was unmistakable.

'Interesting, so this was supposed to be crushed too? Another clue then. Let's go with the low-fire theory too,' Gregory thought to himself, feeling a bit giddy. A vague part of his mind noted that Snape was no longer graduating his papers and was now looking in his direction, but he was having too much fun right now to care about chastisement and he technically was still doing his job. He felt like a detective, as nerdy as that sounded.

Crushed herbs, crushed bones, low simmering heat. He had already a decent clue about what the potions were, already having read through a similar list of ingredients before in the books they had borrowed from the library. Ironically enough, his confirmation came from the accursed dark green goop. Or more accurately, its color. Pieces fell into place in his mind and he could almost see the process the kid who made this followed, and the errors they had made.

"A Herbicide Potion then?" he murmured to himself, as he rolled the piece of mostly white fish spine between his dirty fingers. A lionfish spine if he remembered the ingredients correctly-

"And what makes you think so?"

Gregory was startled out of his thoughts and gave a short squawk as he almost fell from his stool and head first into the still-dirty cauldron. The Slytherin kid turned around while internally glad that he wouldn't have to take hours to take the goop out of his hair. Sure enough, right behind him and too close for comfort, Professor Snape waited for his answer. His eyes looked unimpressed with him but also followed his every movement like a hawk.

"W-Well. It was mostly the color-"

"The color?" the man interrupted with a raised eyebrow.

"It is Flobberworm Mucus. I didn't notice at first because it is darker than it should be, but the thickness and slime texture match. The change of color is probably because of the… uh? Horklump?" he asked more than stated at the end as he trailed off. Professor Snape, for his part, just turned around in his dramatic fashion and walked towards his podium.

"And what makes you think it is a Herbicide potion? Flobberworm Mucus is a common ingredient to thicken the consistency of potions. And surely you know Horklump is used in almost all common medical potions," the man asked without looking back.

"Well, the pieces of spine-"

"Spine of what creature?"

"The pieces of lionfish spine were inside the potion…" he corrected himself. It seemed like he'd just gotten started on an impromptu test or something. "The low heat wasn't enough to dissolve them correctly, and the person added just far too much mucus for it. So it ended up like a thick slime without properties," he said, taking an informative tone he had long mastered since his years at college. Also, it wasn't without properties, it would work as an awesome glue replacement, but he decided not to say that part.

"Yes, I know this. You don't need to give lessons to me, Mr. Goyle," Snape snidely remarked. He was starting to think this was just the man's normal way of communicating. "However, both the Wiggenweld and Herbicide Potions have the same ingredients. What makes you so sure your theory is correct?" The man turned to face him from the other side of his desk and regarded him with a derisive sneer.

'Besides the fact this is from a first-year class and the Wiggenweld Potion is fifth-year material?' Gregory thought but he held his tongue. It was more than clear the man wanted a scientific answer, not a snarky one.

He was happy they had decided to read through the in-depth material. The coincidence in ingredients was mentioned in passing there. He was lucky he took note of that out of the curious irony there was for a healing potion having similar ingredients to one that is meant to kill plants.

"Because of the herbs, sir," he said instead. "These herbs are not used in Wiggenweld Potions. Moreover, the bones appear to be partially crushed, which wouldn't be the case for that either. Whoever made this potion didn't crush the bones or the herbs enough, and the low heat was unable to dissolve it. Then without a catalyst, the mucus and Horklump juice just… mixed together and gained a very dark color and far too thick consistency," Gregory finished his theory by going back over his previous points.

Professor Snape stayed quiet for a long moment, his eyes studying Gregory as if he were seeing him for the first time in his life. The reason as to why suddenly clicked in Gregory as he remembered that, in his excitement, he had forgotten he was supposed to act like a dumb brute who had trouble writing his own name. He wasn't supposed to engage in Potion theory with a teacher.

'God, Vincent is going to kill me,' he screamed inside his head. He hadn't even had time to tell him about what happened yesterday with Myrtle, and now this…

"Congratulations, Mr. Goyle. Somehow, you've managed to know a thing or two about a basic first year potion. I guess that deserves one point to Slytherin for not being completely hopeless," the teacher commented, sounding and looking thoroughly unimpressed and contrasting quite a bit with Gregory's pride. "You can leave now. We will continue during your next scheduled detention," the man added, waving him away with his expression still blank.

"Thank you, sir," Gregory said, scurrying out of the room as fast as his legs could take him. The professor's eyes followed his every move like a hawk all the while, but he was too glad this was over to care at the moment. He was glad that the torture was over early, and a bit miffed that he hadn't tried to guess the potion from the very start. He might have gotten out even earlier if he did.

His stomach rumbled loudly then, making him tighten his lips. Gregory had been in that room for hours, and had barely had any breakfast due to the annoying comments of his peers making him lose his appetite that morning. He wasn't sure exactly what time it was, but it was most likely way past lunch already, hopefully, there was still a chance to snack on something. Gregory idly wondered if Snape would have held him throughout dinner too if he failed to clean all the cauldrons by then. With a sigh, the second year decided to go visit the Great Hall anyway. If he was lucky, he would still be able to get some food.

"But first," he said to himself with a disgusted frown as he continued rolling the fish spine between his very sticky and gross-feeling fingers. "I really need a shower."

[}-o-{]

[Vincent Crabbe]

That morning had sucked. Even more so for Gregory, admittedly, but Vincent himself had been hit with the flak that his friend brought on them with the loss of points and detention. Malfoy, for one, had been less than happy with what happened and the rest of their present yearmates and some other Slytherins from other years had wasted no time throwing insults and general hostility their way.

People took the point system very seriously, apparently. Or maybe it was an image thing? Either or, breakfast and the morning in general had been less than pleasant to get through.

'Here's hoping that today's the day,' he thought to himself, traversing the hallways of Hogwarts once more. He was on the sixth floor now. Now, if he could manage to find the right set of stairs to the seventh and finally find the Room of Requirement. It'd help a whole lot if he could…

It'd help more if Gregory were looking for it too, but it couldn't be helped. He was sure that there had to be a good reason for whatever had made the guy late, but even if it was something silly like getting lost or the stairs messing with him… Well, he could understand. They'd barely been around for a few days, so it made sense. It'd take some getting used to.

He'd gotten lost plenty himself, if never enough to not make it back in time.

That didn't mean he wouldn't have appreciated some help, but it was what it was. He was just… frustrated. The whole situation was a mess and even if everything went perfectly, it'd be difficult to get to a good point. Magic wasn't easy, people – even children – weren't dumb and there were no fancy isekai cheats within sight.

'One step at a time,' he told himself with a sigh. They were already studying, training and progressing. A little bit at a time, they'd get somewhere eventually. It was just very annoying to know that it was possible, but to feel it so far away, especially when things weren't particularly peachy at the moment.

So, he kept moving, going through hallways. He made a turn here, went up a set of stairs there and he was already on the seventh floor. Now he needed to explore a little and see if he could find the goddamned painting that marked the place. So, from there, he went in one direction, turn, turn, dead end, try again. Again and again, more attempts were made as he moved, with the seconds passing and turning into minutes.

It was frustrating, because he knew they probably would have found it already, if it weren't for Draco fucking Malfoy. The blond brat just didn't give them a lot of time to themselves and they had to split the search with studies, because they just had to get started on that. Classes would start again soon and they needed to get things done, get the ball rolling. The less they knew when classes started, the worse for them.

There was so much to get done and they just didn't have fucking time-

Vincent paused.

Slowly, he turned to the side, looking at a particular portrait hung on the wall. Depicted in it, moving and talking, was a single man, surrounded by much bigger humanoid beings. Trolls, to be exact. Trolls that the crazy bastard seemed to be trying to teach how to dance. Ballet, of all things, as if the entire thing wasn't mad enough.

'Barnabas the Barmy,' he read on a plate under the portrait.

Slowly, he turned around, finding an empty patch of stone wall.

'That means…' he thought, gulping. Taking a deep breath in to try and calm himself, Vincent started walking. Left, right. 'I need a room to study in.' Right, left. 'I need a room nobody will find except me.' Left, right. 'I need a room to study in where nobody will find me.'

Then he turned towards the wall… and grinned.

There, clear as day, was a door that hadn't been there before.

'Room of Requirement, found.'

[} Chapter End {]

Adrian: Well, things are going well for the two, aren't they?

Arc: Little by little they are finding their pace in this new world. Let's just hope things stay on the up for these two. Gregory the detective and Vincent the explorer.

Adrian: I'm sure nothing bad will happen to bring them back down.

Arc: Being Crabbe and Goyle is no easy feat after all! Hope you guys liked the chapter!

Adrian: What he said. See you all next time.

Random Adrian Question: Any ideas of how our boys' luck will turn around?

Discord Link: discord .gg/UTDransjJZ