FICLET: Education (Hermione/Gregory)
Title: Education
Pairing: Hermione/Gregory Goyle
Rating: G
Word Count: 709
Summary: Just when Potions couldn't get any worse, it did.
Author's Notes: For phil_urich, who requested humor/romance and inner city pressure - this was the first thing that popped into my head. I've never written Goyle before, so I hope he came out to your liking! :P I also suck at coming up with titles. Lastly, I took a few liberties with the details of making Shrinking Solution.
Just when Potions couldn't get any worse, it did.
It was bad enough having Professor Snape lurking behind you - never recognizing good work, but never failing to point out errors.
And then Professor Snape paired me with Goyle.
The boy is a hazard, I tell you; twice he nearly blew up the Shrinking Solution we were supposed to be making.
"No!" I screamed at him, wrenching his hands away from the cauldron. "You're not supposed to add the shrivelfig until after you put the daisy roots!"
"Mm," he grunted. I rolled my eyes - I hadn't realized how much of a troll he really was, in both senses of the word.
I gave Goyle the task of cutting up the caterpillar, while I brewed the potion myself. That didn't turn out very well. He'd left all the pieces uneven and too large; I had to spend ten extra minutes fixing what he'd done. Before long, I resigned to doing everything myself - a decision I should have made from the very beginning.
But Professor Snape appeared behind us just then. "Granger, this is supposed to be a collaboration."
"It was, sir, but- "
"Was?" He turned to Goyle. "Is that true?"
"Nn," he managed to say, shaking his big head from side to side. My jaw dropped in disbelief. How dare he!
"Sir, I swear Goyle was helping, he was dicing the ingredients, and he almost ruined the potion when he- "
"Granger, if I do not see the two of you collaborating, you will receive no marks for this lesson."
Professor Snape swiftly pivoted to pester another pair. "Yes, sir," I mumbled more to myself than anything, though Goyle must have heard me. He was grinning stupidly as he stirred the solution clockwise. I gaped in horror for a brief moment as I watched him. Perhaps he wasn't a troll in one sense - he was conniving enough, all right!
Rushing to steal the ladle from his hand, I shrieked hysterically, "Anti-clockwise, Goyle! Anti-clockwise!"
That day was the first day I received no marks in Potions - and the last. It was frustrating, of course, because I knew my Shrinking Solution was almost perfect. But if I had let Goyle do any more damage than he already had done, I suppose I still would have received no marks.
As I headed for the door of the dungeon, a sudden urge to reprimand Goyle began to rise towards my throat. I couldn't help it, I was just so angry at the moment that I had to do something.
I managed to get Goyle somewhat alone - he wasn't with Malfoy, anyway, and that would have been a problem. "Goyle," I seethed, breathing heavily through my nose, "You - are - the - worst - in - Potions!"
He simply beamed oafishly at me.
Of course.
The next words were choking me, pressuring me until I let them out into the open. "Would you like me to tutor you, Goyle? Because I honestly don't see how you'll pass the year otherwise."
I was aghast; I couldn't believe I'd just said that! What did I care if Goyle failed anyway?
His expression mirrored mine; his bulging eyes seemed to pop out of their sockets, his mouth hanging open unattractively.
"What?"
He'd uttered an actual word! I nearly laughed, but I caught myself just in time.
"Er, never mind, I don't know what I was saying, I'll just go now," I rambled, feeling completely foolish. I could tell I was blushing in embarrassment, which itself was embarrassing - I sincerely hoped Goyle was too much of a troll to make anything of it.
Sometimes it was hard to tell with Goyle; he acted like a moron most of the time, but it could very well be a façade.
"Sure," he grunted in response.
Well, maybe not. Not if he only spoke in monosyllables.
Glad to be leaving without further incident, I began my way up the stairs, when I felt a tugging at my book-bag. Looking down, I saw that it was Goyle. I felt my eyebrows shoot up in confusion.
"When?" he merely asked.
I stood, stunned. Was Goyle actually taking an interest in his studies? I couldn't believe my ears.
Perhaps there was slightly more to him than I ever knew.
Pairing: Hermione/Gregory Goyle
Rating: G
Word Count: 709
Summary: Just when Potions couldn't get any worse, it did.
Author's Notes: For phil_urich, who requested humor/romance and inner city pressure - this was the first thing that popped into my head. I've never written Goyle before, so I hope he came out to your liking! :P I also suck at coming up with titles. Lastly, I took a few liberties with the details of making Shrinking Solution.
Just when Potions couldn't get any worse, it did.
It was bad enough having Professor Snape lurking behind you - never recognizing good work, but never failing to point out errors.
And then Professor Snape paired me with Goyle.
The boy is a hazard, I tell you; twice he nearly blew up the Shrinking Solution we were supposed to be making.
"No!" I screamed at him, wrenching his hands away from the cauldron. "You're not supposed to add the shrivelfig until after you put the daisy roots!"
"Mm," he grunted. I rolled my eyes - I hadn't realized how much of a troll he really was, in both senses of the word.
I gave Goyle the task of cutting up the caterpillar, while I brewed the potion myself. That didn't turn out very well. He'd left all the pieces uneven and too large; I had to spend ten extra minutes fixing what he'd done. Before long, I resigned to doing everything myself - a decision I should have made from the very beginning.
But Professor Snape appeared behind us just then. "Granger, this is supposed to be a collaboration."
"It was, sir, but- "
"Was?" He turned to Goyle. "Is that true?"
"Nn," he managed to say, shaking his big head from side to side. My jaw dropped in disbelief. How dare he!
"Sir, I swear Goyle was helping, he was dicing the ingredients, and he almost ruined the potion when he- "
"Granger, if I do not see the two of you collaborating, you will receive no marks for this lesson."
Professor Snape swiftly pivoted to pester another pair. "Yes, sir," I mumbled more to myself than anything, though Goyle must have heard me. He was grinning stupidly as he stirred the solution clockwise. I gaped in horror for a brief moment as I watched him. Perhaps he wasn't a troll in one sense - he was conniving enough, all right!
Rushing to steal the ladle from his hand, I shrieked hysterically, "Anti-clockwise, Goyle! Anti-clockwise!"
That day was the first day I received no marks in Potions - and the last. It was frustrating, of course, because I knew my Shrinking Solution was almost perfect. But if I had let Goyle do any more damage than he already had done, I suppose I still would have received no marks.
As I headed for the door of the dungeon, a sudden urge to reprimand Goyle began to rise towards my throat. I couldn't help it, I was just so angry at the moment that I had to do something.
I managed to get Goyle somewhat alone - he wasn't with Malfoy, anyway, and that would have been a problem. "Goyle," I seethed, breathing heavily through my nose, "You - are - the - worst - in - Potions!"
He simply beamed oafishly at me.
Of course.
The next words were choking me, pressuring me until I let them out into the open. "Would you like me to tutor you, Goyle? Because I honestly don't see how you'll pass the year otherwise."
I was aghast; I couldn't believe I'd just said that! What did I care if Goyle failed anyway?
His expression mirrored mine; his bulging eyes seemed to pop out of their sockets, his mouth hanging open unattractively.
"What?"
He'd uttered an actual word! I nearly laughed, but I caught myself just in time.
"Er, never mind, I don't know what I was saying, I'll just go now," I rambled, feeling completely foolish. I could tell I was blushing in embarrassment, which itself was embarrassing - I sincerely hoped Goyle was too much of a troll to make anything of it.
Sometimes it was hard to tell with Goyle; he acted like a moron most of the time, but it could very well be a façade.
"Sure," he grunted in response.
Well, maybe not. Not if he only spoke in monosyllables.
Glad to be leaving without further incident, I began my way up the stairs, when I felt a tugging at my book-bag. Looking down, I saw that it was Goyle. I felt my eyebrows shoot up in confusion.
"When?" he merely asked.
I stood, stunned. Was Goyle actually taking an interest in his studies? I couldn't believe my ears.
Perhaps there was slightly more to him than I ever knew.