Dear
Journal,
I ’ve
got the letter today. Father was very pleased. I guess I am not a squib after
all.
Boarding on
a train full with other children was definitely not the stuff Gregory Goyle’s
dreams were made of. He hated children and he hated even more that he was one.
Other children always were getting in the way. They took the last chocolate
frog, used his new robes as a napkin and were just generally annoying brats. At
least Crabbe was different. Crabbe never stood in the way… admittedly he was
occasionally very annoying and acting stupidly, but only because he didn’t knew
better. Crabbe needed guidance, namely Gregory Goyle’s very own. And he would
never eat the last chocolate frog.
For things
like that they had Draco. Draco was smart as in really, really smart. He had a
powerful father and a beautiful mother and Goyle knew that if anyone was
supposed to get the last frog then it had to be Malfoy.
“Do you
know who is on the train?” asked Crabbe rather stupidly after coming back from
a trip to the sweet selling witch.
“A few
muggle-borns to make fun of?” Goyle wasn’t all that interested after realizing
that Crabbe didn’t even have enough sense to purchase more chocolate frogs.
“Harry
Potter.”
“What? How
do you know? What does he look like?” Draco seemed finally to care about
something else than folding candy wrapper neatly and throwing it out of the
window. He was odd, Goyle decided. Smart, but odd and decided to look after
Draco in Hogwarts.
“I saw him
in one of the compartment. Skinny, small, dark, messy hair, glasses – he
doesn’t look like all that interesting.”
Draco
looked agitated: “Maybe we should take a real good look at him. Crabbe, Goyle.”
He jumped off his seat and left the compartment. Goyle looked at Crabbe and
then followed him.
Dear Di…
damn... Dear Journal,
Today
was my first day in school it was very exciting. Met Harry Potter, wasn’t very
impressed with him. Goyle said we should look after Draco Malfoy because if
something happens to him our fathers would be really upset. I don’t get that,
why would Father be upset if something happens to Draco?
Got
sorted into Slytherin, owled Father to tell him the good news (And he always
said that I will be a Hufflepuff – ha, I showed him.), had dinner with the other
Slytherins (it was very good), went to our dorms, wasn’t very impressed with it
(Why do they give us Slytherins the dungeons?), went to bed.
Lessons,
decided Gregory Goyle after trying to transfigure a match into a needle
unsuccessfully for two hours, were a pain.
Actually,
he thought after Charms and four hundred “Win-gard-i-um Le-vi-o-sa’s”, they are
torture.
‘Thought up
by the evilest wizards of all time, Salazar Slytherin, Helga Hufflepuff, Godric
Gryffindor and Rowena Ravenclaw, and Professor Binns probably even knew them in
person and even they thought he was boring and then they killed and now he is a
ghost…’ were Goyle’s last thought when he fell asleep in History of Magic.
Lessons
were one thing, but lessons with the Gryffindors… Goyle couldn’t even think of
words that described these nasty, nosy, sniffling brats. They were an
unpleasant lot full of rubbish like these muggle-loving Weasleys and
Muggle-born walking encyclopaedias and horror of all horrors a skinny, small,
scar-faced, good for nothing git with a head so big that it was a miracle that
he could walk through any doorway. Goyle hated them all.
But much to
his delight he wasn’t the only one. Draco hated Potter, because Potter didn’t
want to be his friend, the rest of the Slytherins hated Potter, because he had
been sorted into Gryffindor and Snape’s reason for hating Potter were a
complete mystery to him. Not that he cared.
“Looks
there is nothing more”, was something that Goyle wanted embroidered on all his
new robes.
Dear
Journal (Ha - I did it right this time),
Had
flying lessons with the Gryffindors today, wasn’t able to fly, because Potter
had to interrupt the lesson with some stupid show off seeker skills. He
probably trained for years to catch that remembrall so fast. (I wonder if the
Gryffindor will make him their seeker – I’ve heard that they haven’t got one…)
I just
heard that Potter has just become the youngest seeker in one-hundred years,
Draco stalked of and sulks now on his bed in the dormitory, Goyle eats
chocolate frogs, I guess they didn’t liked the news much.
School,
decided Goyle after two months in Hogwarts, wasn’t so bad. No younger sister
that annoys you, no parents who could take away your sweets, lots of Hufflepuff
and fellow Slytherins to bully… if he could only think of a way to get rid of
the lessons.
Defense
Against Dark Arts was a joke. Goyle prided himself to know a lot about Dark
Arts and Quirrel didn’t taught about them. He was just a scared little man,
smelling like garlic, wearing this ridiculous turban. Crabbe in a rare showing
of actually possessing brain cells didn’t liked him either. He called him
creepy and fake. Well as far as Goyle was concerned Quirrel had probably faked
more than one signature to get the teaching job in Hogwarts.
Dear Diary,
Now it’s
been nearly two months at school. My favourite subject is Flying. I am not very
good at it though. But I hope it will get better.
“Goyle?”
“Mmm”
“Do you
think that something is off with Professor Quirrel?”
“’e smells
like garlic?”
“No, he
always seems to look for something, he wanders around and he never takes off
his turban.”
“Crabbe,
shut up. I want to sleep.”
Goyle’s
days were never boring. Waking up, marching down the halls with Malfoy and
Crabbe like the school belonged to them, eating breakfast, (avoiding porridge
and going for ham and eggs), lessons or as Goyle liked to call them “Good
opportunities to catch up on sleep.“ lunch, more lessons, more sleep, more
marching around with Malfoy and Crabbe. Bullying some Gryffindors, bullying
some Hufflepuffs, dinner, bullying some Slytherins in the Slytherin Common
Room, going to bed. Life should always be like that.