The turkey had been delicious, but the treacle tart was even better. Gregory couldn’t stop himself; he wanted everything in front of him — a lot of it. The pumpkin cakes and fudge and biscuits all beckoned to him like those sea sirens that Binns had been on about earlier that day before his regular afternoon nap had set in.
He didn’t think he could take another bite, but that was easily remedied by stashing a little bit of everything into the pockets of his robes for a late-night snack. Since it was Wednesday, that meant that there was a midnight Astronomy lesson, which made the idea of a bite to eat afterward just that much more appealing.
Seeing the blatant stowing of sweets, Draco sneered, “What’s the matter, Goyle? Your mum not like you enough to send you that sort of thing?”
“Sod off, Malfoy,” Gregory replied through a face full of raspberry tart, crumbs escaping from his mouth. He resented having to be nice to Draco, who was a superior little git, but that was the way of things. No one, however, was going to tell him he couldn’t have a few extra desserts.
“If you direct your telescopes to the western sky, you will observe the constellation Aries, which works in conjunction of neighbouring Triangulum to accelerate the effects of Transfiguration between the hours of five and six in the morning on the third Friday of every lunar month.” Professor Sinistra strolled through the flock of yawning students, tweaking their telescopes in the right direction and prodding the ones who had fallen asleep sitting up.
While Sinistra’s back was turned, Gregory would snatch a sweet from his pocket and stuff it into his mouth before she looked his way again. Draco wrinkled his nose in distaste, and Vincent elbowed him asking for a piece of treacle tart. On cue, he squinted into his telescope and repeated the same observations that the Ravenclaw girl next to him had said to her partner.
Cramming another biscuit down his throat, Gregory felt his belly roil. He started regretting the last few desserts that he had inhaled as his last few bites reached the site of his gastrointestinal distress. It was obvious to him that this was not going to end well.
Noticing that Gregory was no longer completing his assignment, Sinistra came over to stand over him, arms crossed. “Mr Goyle, is there any particular reason why you aren’t working like the rest of your classmates?”
When he opened his mouth to deny her claim, Gregory felt vomit rise in his throat, prompting him to snap his jaw closed.
Still waiting for an answer, Sinistra said, “Well?”
Unable to hold in his sickness any longer, Gregory jettisoned the content of his stomach right at Sinistra’s feet — or more namely, on
them. Opening his eyes, which had been squeezed shut, he saw the puddle of puke, which brought on a new wave of illness.
Sinistra stormed off, muttering about ‘bloody kids’.