Greg wasn't happy. Maeve had been owling him like mad. He wasn't a child any longer and she knew it! It wasn't like he had spent the last five years travelling alone or anything. When someone slammed into him, Greg automatically reached out to catch them.

"Greg?" Pansy bit down the curses that had formed on her lips and surreptitiously put her wand away. 

"Pansy?" Oh, he so was having a bad day. He liked Pansy, he did. He just didn't need her brand of information extraction today...or maybe he did. She just might be willing to share some vodka. Gods, he really needed a stiff drink about now. 

"Yes, it's me in the flesh, Gregory Goyle.  I must say that I'm shocked to see you here in the middle of Diagon Alley,"  she said.  Shocked, but pleased.  Pansy felt her face curve into what must've been her first genuine smile in months.  "Nevertheless, Greg.  It's good to see you."

Greg winged up an eyebrow. Pansy, the Pansy Parkinson was smiling, and in public no less? He recovered quickly. "It's good to see you too, Pansy. How have you been?"

She tossed her hair over her shoulder.  "Oh, you know, trampling on the lower class, mocking the Mudbloods, spending more than the gross national product of Scotland in an afternoon.  The usual.  You?  Would it be futile to ask you where you've been for the last five years?"

He laughed, a genuine belly laugh. Pansy never changed and he felt better for it, as odd as he found that. "Of course it wouldn't. I've been travelling."

"See there?  That wasn't so hard."  She threaded her arm into the crook of his elbow and steered him toward the closest pub.  "Come on, Greg.  Let's go get a drink and you can tell Pansy all about the adventures you've had.  And if you're good I might tell you a couple of my secrets, as well."  She looked up at him and winked.  "But you'll have to be very, very good," she said in mock seriousness.

Greg half-smiled.  If Pansy was buying the good stuff he would be more than willing to see what he could get out of her. Pansy always had been a good drinking partner. He wondered if her tolerance was still as high as it had been at Hogwarts. "You buying?"

She looked at him and cocked her head to the side.  "Didn't I always?"

He couldn't help but tuck her hand a bit more firmly in the crook of his arm as they walked. He was wondering when she was going to reprimand him for his choice in clothing. He hadn't cared one whit about the solicitor, or that prat financial advisor when he'd thrown on the first clothes he'd come across earlier.

Pansy tightened her hand around his arm, momentarily leaning her head on his shoulder as they walked.  She exhaled slowly, and revelled in a feeling she hadn't had in some time.  She closed her eyes.  This felt good.  Comfortable.  Safe.  Merlin, she hadn't felt completely safe in years, not that anyone would have suspected it.  Gregory had always protected her in school, been a wall between her and those whom she despised; she guessed he'd done it as much to keep her out of trouble as to stop her from getting hexed.  Vincent and Greg had been her confidants about Draco; when her then boyfriend had been hurtful and cold, Greg had been there to listen to her complaints and pat her hand, telling her that it would all be alright.  He'd always been constant, steady and kind (at least to her), and that was a rare commodity these days.  She breathed in and opened her eyes, catching something in her peripheral vision.

Her head snapped up.  "Greg?"

"Mmmhmm?"

"What is this?"  She brought the hand that wasn't attached to his arm to finger the material of his t-shirt. 

Greg smirked, a habit he'd learned from Draco and never quite broken himself of. "That would be a shirt, Pansy."

She caught the expression on his face and changed her tactic.  "I'm not saying that you've not grown up well, Gregory," she said, appraising the wizard underneath the clothes, "but you might let me take you shopping soon, hmmm?  The wrapping needs to be as lovely as the gift, after all.  No doubt you'll be trying to impress all the witches in Britain, soon," she said, smirking.

"Oh hell, no, in every way shape and form," he replied hastily. It was not that he was opposed to dating, it was just too much. He'd outgrown his need for one-night stands years ago- with women and men alike. He wasn't sure if Pansy had ever figured it out, but Greg was smart enough not to outright say it...ever.

They arrived at the pub, and after being directed to a private table, Pansy launched off into a torrent of one-sided conversation.  Greg was amazed that she needed little or no prompting from him to keep going, like one of those wind up Crup dolls he'd had as a boy.  She just kept talking endlessly.

He took the opportunity to speak while she took a sip of her drink. He figured now was as good a time as any to test the waters, so to speak, about the wizarding world, and more importantly, their former housemates. "So, Pansy.  Have you kept in touch with our friends?"

"Friends?" she asked incredulously.  "I'd use that term loosely, if I were you.  It's much worse now than even when the Dark Lord was in power.  You don't know who you can trust, and who might curse you on sight."

Greg knew she wasn't just being dramatic.  "Where is everyone?" he asked.

She looked at him darkly.  "Here and there, thither and yon.  When exactly did you leave?"

"As soon as the last paperwork was signed. It was...ahh...the middle of August after my parents..." He sighed heavily. Even now he couldn't utter what had happened to them. Only Raven and the bastard Ministry Aurors knew the whole truth. "I wasn't paying much attention to what was going on around me. I just wanted out."

She nodded.  "Well, I can tell you what I know.  My father died.  One of those Phoenix Order bastards got him with the killing curse in the back."

"I'm sorry, Pansy." He touched her arm briefly.  "Who?"

"Does it matter?  They're all the same.  They didn't care that he was a husband and father, just that he was wearing a black cloak and a mask."  She signalled the waiter for another round.

"How did they find him?" he asked, appreciating Pansy's instinct in knowing when to push and when not to. So far she was being sensitive, for Pansy.

She laughed mirthlessly.  "Our friend, Draco, I believe.  He evidently rolled over on our lot to keep himself out of trouble."  She sighed.  "Not that I blame him, really," she said contemplatively.  "I would've probably done the same or worse to save my own neck, right?  Anyway, I haven't seen him in years.  He's unavailable.  Now physically as well as emotionally," she sneered.

"You haven't heard from Vince?" Vince was one that Greg wanted to stay far away from, and if he'd learned anything it was forewarned is forearmed.

"No, not a sound.  Do you know where he is?"

"No clue; I didn't really try to keep in touch." Well save for Maeve, but he wasn't explaining that situation to Pansy.                           

"Hm.  I wouldn't go so far as to say that I missed him, but I may have noticed his absence."  She gave him a small smile.  "You, I missed."

Damn, but Pansy had always known how to make him flustered. "Same goes," he muttered, damning his loss of a decent tan. At least then he may have had the chance of his flushed face going unnoticed.                             

"Anyway, let's see?  Who else?"  she mused.  "Theo is Theo.  I see him here and there, he's not especially warm.  I'm sure that's a shock to you," she said wryly.  She thought for a moment.  "Blaise still thinks he's prettier than me."  She scoffed.  "Smarter, too.  He's yet to prove either, I'm proud to say."

Greg chuckled, though he was still brassed off about Blaise's apparent disregard of Maeve. It was something he would deal with later, today was about Pansy.

"Daphne is still around, and Tracey throws parties, professionally now, as well as privately.  She has to associate with the Mudbloods down at the Ministry to do it, though."  She shook her head.  "I just give money.  I don't like to go.  My wand hand gets twitchy when I'm around Potter or the Weasleys for too long."  She looked at the wizard on the other side of the table and narrowed her eyes.  "Now, Gregory Goyle, you are going to talk for awhile."

"But you haven't told me any of your secrets, yet." He knew it wouldn't stop her, but he was hoping for at least a bit more time. Pansy was known for wearing him down slowly- something he had counted on as staying the same.

"You haven't been 'very good', yet," she teased.

"One secret," he prompted.

"Alright, one," Pansy conceded.  "Look at me.  Do I look different to you?"

He frowned, studying her for a moment. He had known the minute he really looked at her what she'd done. He was buying a bit more time by playing stupid, something he had an awful lot of practice at. "Your hair is longer."

She smirked.  "And?"

His frown deepened. "I don't know."                                        

She pointed the tip of her finger to the tip of her nose, and pushed briefly, then removed it.  "I had a mediwizard fix my nose," she whispered.  "I figured if that mongrel Granger could fix those horrid buck teeth of hers, then I could stop her comparing me to a breed of dog," she spat.  She smiled and turned profile, peering at him from the corner of her eye.  "What do you think?"

"Gorgeous as always," Greg quipped, smiling slightly in anticipation of her reaction.

"Worth every galleon, I say.  No more beauty potions, either."

Greg scoffed, knowing Pansy's game nearly as well as he did his own. "You never needed any of that, pet."                                          

She rewarded him with a brilliant smile.  "Alright, Greg.  Spill.  Where?  What?  Who?  I want to know everything, and since my Legilimency skills are a tad rusty, you'll have to speak."

He sniggered. "Like I'm going to tell you all that."

"Oh, Greg.  Don't make me tickle you.  You know that's all it takes and you'll sing like a bird."

Greg rolled his eyes. Pansy, in her own way, was relaxing him in a way that he'd not expected. He wouldn't tell her all by any means, but she deserved a tidbit for the top shelf vodka and enjoyable conversation. There were things he would, and always had, held back from her the same as she'd done with him. That was one of the main reasons he had always looked out for Pansy. She understood his need to hold back.

"I spent time in America."

She sat momentarily, and waited.  He didn't say more.  She gave him the patented Pansy Parkinson glare.  "Gregory, if you think I'll be mollified by one sentence, you've been away too long, love."

He sighed, having known it wasn't going to be that easy. "Fine, I spent time in North Carolina and Seattle, Washington."

She blinked and Pansy's lovely face looked puzzled.  "I'm sorry, but you mistake me for one of those people who paid attention in primary school."  She raised an eyebrow.  "You were there.  You know I didn't.  I was too busy being chased on the playground and having my plaits pulled by the school bully,"  she said in a wave of nostalgia.  "Oh, wait, that was you," she teased, poking his arm and smiling fondly.  "What was in North Carolwhosits?"

Greg shook his head. "It wasn't me that pulled your pigtails, pet. That was Draco. You'll recall I was the one picking you up out of the dirt and growling at anyone who dared bully you." He couldn't resist another chuckle at Pansy's incredulous look. "As for North Carolina...mountains, beauty, freedom..."

"And," she prompted.

"I don't want to get into it right now, Pansy. Maybe later, okay?"                                 

"I see."  She frowned at him, her hand momentarily resting over his larger one, absently toying with the ring he wore.  "I get it.  I'm not wholly insensitive, my entire history notwithstanding," she said, grinning cheekily, "so we can save this line of inquiry for another day."

Greg shot her a grateful little half-smile. There was no way he was getting into Raven and his people with Pansy. At least not today. "Inquisitive, not insensitive."

She nodded.  "But you're not getting out of shopping, Gregory."  She shook her head while she scrutinized his attire as they stood.  "I don't care if people in America wear that or not, it's ghastly."  She carelessly left enough coins on the table to pay for their drinks.  She turned him so that she could look at his backside.  "These baggy trousers do nothing for you!"  She put her arm through his once again and gave it a squeeze.  "Half an hour and I'll have you looking like a proper wizard again, yes?" she asked as they exited the pub and headed in the direction of the shops.  "I won't even ask you any more questions.  However, Greg, I do remember how to get you to talk."  She threaded her free hand between their bodies and unleashed an assault on his ribs.

He picked her up and set her aside gently, not allowing her too far away, but stopping her tickling. "I don't need to shop, pet. Ghastly or not, I don't care. But, I will window shop if it makes you happy." He looked her in the eyes and admitted something he knew was just this side of sappy for the two of them. "I find I've missed you, Pansy, quite a bit."

She patted his arm, laughing.  Stepping back, she searched his face.  "I missed you, Gregory Goyle.  You absolutely may not be gone for five years ever again," she said imperiously.  She leaned up on her tiptoes and placed a kiss on his cheek, continuing in a gentler tone, "I simply won't have it."

{Summary:  Two old friends meet in Diagon Alley; Greg brings out the softer side of Pansy.}