Hexes and Tears (PG-13; GG/PP)
Title: Hexes and Tears
Characters: Gregory Goyle/Pansy Parkinson
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1341
Prompt: 91 - Duel at potterverse100
Authors Note: Once again, I can't seem to write in order but figured there should be something before Henrietta to explain the room a bit more.
The uneasy truce that Pansy had allowed between she and Gregory was becoming harder and harder to keep secret as her life continued to spiral down. Sometimes, at night, she was forced to bury herself in pillows and hope that the sheet in her mouth was keeping the sound of her sobs from traveling to her dorm mates. If they had known of her pain and desperation, they would have found ways to use it to their advantage. She had no desire to be a kicking post for any of the Slytherin she knew. There were still many months until she was free to leave this place.
With some persistence, Gregory had continued to break down her defenses. The only difference between him finding out her weaknesses was that he built her back up. Over and over, she found herself recovering some of the confidence she’s lost over the past few years. It had seeped away without her even realizing it until she was completely empty and struggling to figure out what her purpose was.
If it was possible, the two of them had found as many of the empty rooms far away from the Slytherin Dungeon that they could. It wouldn’t do to spend too much time near any of the other Common Rooms so they’d hunted until they found the perfect room off a back corridor that seemed to be forgotten by everyone but the wispy priest that was supposed to haunt the Hufflepuff House. Since he was a ghost (and who really believed what they had to say) and seemed kindly enough, Gregory had convinced her they were safe enough from prying eyes here.
Unlike the furniture graveyard he’d inhabited before, this was a rather empty place. There was a sturdy table that held all their books and assorted schoolwork necessities. From time to time, it also served as their dinner table when the charade of not knowing each other got to be too much of a burden.
The floor was planed stone, so smooth and flat that a dropped crystal ball would stay in place. In a castle like Hogwarts, this was an oddity. They’d speculated on what it had been used for before it had been forgotten. Pansy liked to think it was a dueling floor while Gregory said (always with a tiny smile) that he thought it was a perfect room for dancing lessons.
So they did both.
Today was Pansy’s day to have her way. She enjoyed being able to flex her magical muscles and see if she could defeat Gregory, a surprisingly good dueler. Whenever she gave him a compliment, he shrugged it off, same as if she’d told him he was doing something stupid. His years as Draco’s lackey still sat uneasily on his shoulders, preventing him from showing too much emotion. There were times, usually when they were dancing, that he was completely open and she saw him as he was truly meant to be seen.
“Ready?” he asked from across the room where he’d just come in. He sat his bag down on the floor with a disgruntled sigh. From the looks of things, today had not been an easy one for him. For a moment, she thought of changing the schedule and suggesting they do something different. When Gregory was in this sort of mood, he was reckless. His spells were as likely to take off chunks of wall as they were to find her weak spots.
“Just about.” She made extra sure that her protective armor, a rather good find in the furniture graveyard, was firmly in place. If he was going to play for keeps today, she was ready. “On your mark.”
He took his place and squared off, forgetting that his stance should be with one leg back so that less of his body could be used as a target. Lifting his wand, she noticed that he wasn’t wearing any armor. Before she could say anything, he struck his first blow and she reeled back.
“Pay attention,” he snarled, giving her just enough time to get back on her feet before he fired his second shot. She was ready and defended herself well from the jinx but her head still buzzed from the first shot. It was clearly something that rattled the brain, keeping the opponent off-kelter.
Pansy narrowed her eyes and made a quick decision to hold off on her offense. Let him tire out a bit more and she could more effectively take him with one or two well placed hexes.
Twenty minutes later, her body sprouting more bruises than necessary, she decided he wasn’t going to tire. The adrenaline and anger were still rushing through his body, keeping him on his feet long after she figured he would be with this pace that he was setting for himself. His only indication of strain was the trickles of sweat that had started to create rivers down his face.
The only way to bring him to his knees was to hurt him, she decided ruefully. Backing up slowly to put enough distance between them that her spells wouldn’t cause as much harm, she tried a Stinging Hex. It stopped him but only for a moment. A look of surprise crossed his face and she wondered if she hadn’t gone too far.
“Greg-“ but he cut her off with a slash of light. She had barely enough time to get out of the way, catching a bit of the backlash of the spell on her left shoulder. Pain ripped through her entire body. For a moment, she thought she might faint but she held onto reality until she could focus again.
He was still standing at the other end of the room, pulling large quantities of air into his lungs, his wand pointed to the floor but still in his hand. She hated to think of backing down but there was also no way she was going to win this duel. Something was weighing on her friend and he was taking it out on her.
For the first time in her life, Pansy listened to reason instead of pride and threw her wand over to his side of the room. “I give.”
When he didn’t move, she edged over to a chair where she could begin taking off the armor. There were new dents in it that she noticed with only a passing interest. She finished with the chore before reaching up to take down the band that was holding her hair out of her way. It cascaded down her shoulders and she did nothing to it, letting it fall where it would.
Still he hadn’t moved except to drop his chin down to his chest. A drop of sweat rolled down his nose and fell to the ground. On second thought as she got closer, she decided it was a tear. Another one joined it in a growing puddle.
His wand was easy to pull from his fingers now and she put both of the instruments on the table as she guided him to a chair. It felt wrong to sit across from him in her normal seat, as if they were just two people enjoying a cup of tea and some tedious gossip. His bulk filled up the entire chair so she couldn’t sit next to him. Instead, she lowered herself beside the chair and propped her chin on his knee.
“That bad?” she asked.
He nodded slightly, his face still hidden to her.
“Crabbe?” she guessed.
“And Blaise,” he muttered.
She could guess the rest and didn’t really want her fears confirmed. Slytherin condemnation was not something one got out of easily or with few scars. Having done all she could think of, she lapsed into silence. A huge yawn reminded her of the sobs that had kept her awake last night. It wasn’t the most comfortable of positions that she found herself in but it was by far the safest. With another yawn, she closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep.
Characters: Gregory Goyle/Pansy Parkinson
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1341
Prompt: 91 - Duel at potterverse100
Authors Note: Once again, I can't seem to write in order but figured there should be something before Henrietta to explain the room a bit more.
The uneasy truce that Pansy had allowed between she and Gregory was becoming harder and harder to keep secret as her life continued to spiral down. Sometimes, at night, she was forced to bury herself in pillows and hope that the sheet in her mouth was keeping the sound of her sobs from traveling to her dorm mates. If they had known of her pain and desperation, they would have found ways to use it to their advantage. She had no desire to be a kicking post for any of the Slytherin she knew. There were still many months until she was free to leave this place.
With some persistence, Gregory had continued to break down her defenses. The only difference between him finding out her weaknesses was that he built her back up. Over and over, she found herself recovering some of the confidence she’s lost over the past few years. It had seeped away without her even realizing it until she was completely empty and struggling to figure out what her purpose was.
If it was possible, the two of them had found as many of the empty rooms far away from the Slytherin Dungeon that they could. It wouldn’t do to spend too much time near any of the other Common Rooms so they’d hunted until they found the perfect room off a back corridor that seemed to be forgotten by everyone but the wispy priest that was supposed to haunt the Hufflepuff House. Since he was a ghost (and who really believed what they had to say) and seemed kindly enough, Gregory had convinced her they were safe enough from prying eyes here.
Unlike the furniture graveyard he’d inhabited before, this was a rather empty place. There was a sturdy table that held all their books and assorted schoolwork necessities. From time to time, it also served as their dinner table when the charade of not knowing each other got to be too much of a burden.
The floor was planed stone, so smooth and flat that a dropped crystal ball would stay in place. In a castle like Hogwarts, this was an oddity. They’d speculated on what it had been used for before it had been forgotten. Pansy liked to think it was a dueling floor while Gregory said (always with a tiny smile) that he thought it was a perfect room for dancing lessons.
So they did both.
Today was Pansy’s day to have her way. She enjoyed being able to flex her magical muscles and see if she could defeat Gregory, a surprisingly good dueler. Whenever she gave him a compliment, he shrugged it off, same as if she’d told him he was doing something stupid. His years as Draco’s lackey still sat uneasily on his shoulders, preventing him from showing too much emotion. There were times, usually when they were dancing, that he was completely open and she saw him as he was truly meant to be seen.
“Ready?” he asked from across the room where he’d just come in. He sat his bag down on the floor with a disgruntled sigh. From the looks of things, today had not been an easy one for him. For a moment, she thought of changing the schedule and suggesting they do something different. When Gregory was in this sort of mood, he was reckless. His spells were as likely to take off chunks of wall as they were to find her weak spots.
“Just about.” She made extra sure that her protective armor, a rather good find in the furniture graveyard, was firmly in place. If he was going to play for keeps today, she was ready. “On your mark.”
He took his place and squared off, forgetting that his stance should be with one leg back so that less of his body could be used as a target. Lifting his wand, she noticed that he wasn’t wearing any armor. Before she could say anything, he struck his first blow and she reeled back.
“Pay attention,” he snarled, giving her just enough time to get back on her feet before he fired his second shot. She was ready and defended herself well from the jinx but her head still buzzed from the first shot. It was clearly something that rattled the brain, keeping the opponent off-kelter.
Pansy narrowed her eyes and made a quick decision to hold off on her offense. Let him tire out a bit more and she could more effectively take him with one or two well placed hexes.
Twenty minutes later, her body sprouting more bruises than necessary, she decided he wasn’t going to tire. The adrenaline and anger were still rushing through his body, keeping him on his feet long after she figured he would be with this pace that he was setting for himself. His only indication of strain was the trickles of sweat that had started to create rivers down his face.
The only way to bring him to his knees was to hurt him, she decided ruefully. Backing up slowly to put enough distance between them that her spells wouldn’t cause as much harm, she tried a Stinging Hex. It stopped him but only for a moment. A look of surprise crossed his face and she wondered if she hadn’t gone too far.
“Greg-“ but he cut her off with a slash of light. She had barely enough time to get out of the way, catching a bit of the backlash of the spell on her left shoulder. Pain ripped through her entire body. For a moment, she thought she might faint but she held onto reality until she could focus again.
He was still standing at the other end of the room, pulling large quantities of air into his lungs, his wand pointed to the floor but still in his hand. She hated to think of backing down but there was also no way she was going to win this duel. Something was weighing on her friend and he was taking it out on her.
For the first time in her life, Pansy listened to reason instead of pride and threw her wand over to his side of the room. “I give.”
When he didn’t move, she edged over to a chair where she could begin taking off the armor. There were new dents in it that she noticed with only a passing interest. She finished with the chore before reaching up to take down the band that was holding her hair out of her way. It cascaded down her shoulders and she did nothing to it, letting it fall where it would.
Still he hadn’t moved except to drop his chin down to his chest. A drop of sweat rolled down his nose and fell to the ground. On second thought as she got closer, she decided it was a tear. Another one joined it in a growing puddle.
His wand was easy to pull from his fingers now and she put both of the instruments on the table as she guided him to a chair. It felt wrong to sit across from him in her normal seat, as if they were just two people enjoying a cup of tea and some tedious gossip. His bulk filled up the entire chair so she couldn’t sit next to him. Instead, she lowered herself beside the chair and propped her chin on his knee.
“That bad?” she asked.
He nodded slightly, his face still hidden to her.
“Crabbe?” she guessed.
“And Blaise,” he muttered.
She could guess the rest and didn’t really want her fears confirmed. Slytherin condemnation was not something one got out of easily or with few scars. Having done all she could think of, she lapsed into silence. A huge yawn reminded her of the sobs that had kept her awake last night. It wasn’t the most comfortable of positions that she found herself in but it was by far the safest. With another yawn, she closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep.