A/N: This is a silly little fic that wouldn't let me be. Hope you like it! Also, well, Crabbe and Goyle and Hogsmeade and Harry Potter- they're not mine.

Vincent Crabbe is confused. Lately, there's a empty, ham-sized place inside of him that all the chocolate frogs in Hogsmeade haven't been able to fill. Crabbe grunts. It's dinner time, and he wonders if shepherd's pie might help.

Crabbe isn't sure, but he thinks he might be lonely. The increasingly frequent pangs he feels above his stomach are remarkably similar to his most pungent feelings of loss- the loss he feels when he finds he's finished his apple crisp without noticing. Crabbe wonders if the house elves will make him some apple crisp. He scrunches his face in concentration. He deducts it might be smart to ask for two.

Hogwarts is back in session. Crabbe doesn't think much, but when he does, he thinks he might like boys. He thinks he might like them more than glazed ham, even, which would mean that he fancies them quite a lot.

"Crabbe? What are you slobbering about? It's time for dinner." If he weren't so distracted- today was the second Saturday of the month, Pot Roast Day- he'd be rather adamant that Draco Malfoy was not the man he wanted as his eternal dining companion.

That night at dinner, as Crabbe looks up to grab another roll, he realizes that his best friend, Goyle, has eyes the color of warm, moist, delicious chocolate cake. Suddenly, he's hungry again.

This starts a trend in Crabbe's life. Crabbe isn't one for noticing correlations, but he does notice that Goyle has skin smooth and creamy as vanilla buttercream frosting, arms as thick and strong and meaty as a leg of lamb, and lips that look soft as angel food cake with strawberry sauce on top… Crabbe promptly locates the secret stash of chocolate frogs in his pillow and finishes off five in rapid succession.

The next night at dinner, Goyle lets Crabbe have the last slice of blueberry pie. Crabbe is in love.

Crabbe works to express this the only way he knows how… brownies, with extra chocolate chips. He accidentally eats half of them, but Goyle doesn't seem to mind. There's no one else Crabbe would rather share with.

Weeks later, happy and full after the Halloween Feast, Crabbe kisses Goyle. After, he smiles. Goyle tastes like treacle tart.


Now, Crabbe's favorite pastime is kissing Goyle while sampling Bertie Bott's Every Flavored Beans. That way, they always taste good.



Hope you liked! This is my first fic ever! And it's finished! Woohoo! Please leave a review!

~ Dances