He groaned and rolled over. Everything was fuzzy, his vision and his mind. He blinked in an attempt to bring the mystery room into focus. He pulled himself up, gripping the couch with a shaking hand. He shook his head as the gentleman's lounge came into focus around him.

"Aww, fuck!"

He reached out for the nearest bottle of Grey Goose. It was a bad idea, but the past week had been full of bad ideas. He'd been all right the day he'd signed on with the fight team. It had just gone downhill from there. He moved slowly, feeling as if he'd been hit with an impediment jinx. Mixing Somnio and Grey Goose wasn't the wisest choice he'd ever made. Even through the potions impairing him, he knew that. It was just that he didn't know how to stop himself or even if he wanted to stop himself. Fred and Katie had each other. Draco was back, which meant he would look after Pansy and Maeve better than Blaise would ever care to. Raven and that branch of his family had never needed him as much as he had needed them. Alexi...well he'd moved on long ago.

He took a swig straight from the bottle as the memories came flooding back. He'd been moved into the dorms after spending two weeks in a private clinic. He was nervous as hell...meeting Alexi and Raven...the memories just wouldn't stop. When they became too much for him he called out for an elf, one that wouldn't refuse him like Luthien. "HALADIN! HALADIN!" When the elf appeared, Greg sighed with relief. "Bring me father's stash of Volo Potion."

Haladin's eyes went wide, but he did as ordered. Searching the secret lab, he finally found two vials of Volo Potion and returned to Master Val. He handed them over and then began wringing his hands. He wasn't brave like Luthien, he couldn't find it in him to do as Mistress had instructed all those years ago. Master Val was his Master now that Mistress was gone. But, that didn't mean he had to stand by and watch the Master destroy himself. He whispered, as Master Val used one of the potions, "You will be ruined, Little Master Val, right now you're just broken," as he rushed from the room.

Greg groggily lifted his head, the potion already working, and took a swig from the bottle of Goose. "Already ruined, no going back now," he muttered desolately.

As the potions and alcohol mixed, he rode out the high, not caring if he ever woke from it. Not now that his life was in tatters and he was utterly and completely ruined...back to where he started five years before. He murmured, "I'm so sorry," before passing out cold.  

--

Pansy was getting a little concerned.  Normally, worry wasn't something that concerned her, she just wasn't that kind of girl.  The past few weeks aside, stewing over things wasn't her style. After spending nearly a week in bed, filled with self-loathing, it was lunch with Draco that had snapped her out of it.  He was always good for a healthy dose of reality, and she decided after that to just move forward.  She was, after all, still fabulous, and had other people that needed her, and she definitely had other things to occupy her mind at the moment.

But more than that, it had been awhile since she'd seen Gregory.  It had been over a week, in fact, and the concern she felt was now bordering on full blown hysteria.   After he'd told her all about his problems, addictions and other issues, he'd left rather abruptly, and she'd had one very cryptic owl from him since.  Her reply had gone unanswered, Tracey had owled, hysterical with worry, and Pansy even owled his personal assistant girl, River, who knew even less.  When she went to his flat and found empty potion bottles and more liquor bottles than even she had, Pansy began to panic.  Gregory wasn't at home, wasn't with Tracey, she hadn't seen him in over a week, and she was the only one who knew about any of it, the potions or the addictions.

Where the hell could he be?

Her mind worked furiously. Think, Pansy.  Think.   Not at home, not at the park, not in any of the pubs he frequented, not with Trace...  Surely...  No.  He wouldn't have gone there. 

Her expression took on that of disgust, and she screwed up her face, thinking hard of Gregory's childhood home.  After fifteen years, she hoped everything was the same, and that she wouldn't splinch herself into the middle of a garden wall, or worse.

With a soft pop, she appeared safely on the steps leading up to Stone Walk, an uninviting behemoth of a house that Balendin Goyle had built to intimidate any other Wizard visiting.  It worked; the unwelcoming air that surrounded the house made her want to turn around and walk the other way.  She already felt horrid, just being here.

She moved quickly after calling Beren to let her in, and pushed open the large front doors, to allow the weak sunlight to spill into the entry hall. 

It was deserted.  She didn't know where to look.  She ran up the stairs to what had once been Gregory's room, throwing open the door, only to find it empty, reeking of disuse.  She was steadfastly ignoring the various stains on the rugs, and the portraits who were shouting various things at her, when she happened upon a portrait of Abelinda.  She stopped and gazed at the girl, Gregory's little sister, and remembered how beautiful she looked even at three years old; her formal, rose-colored robes brought out the blush in her cheeks, and she had crystals and flowers wound in her riotously curly brown hair.  She was mesmerized for a moment, watching the little girl play with a toy that looked like the Frog Prince she'd had herself as a child. 

The portrait of Abelinda looked up at her and waved, shyly.  Pansy looked into the portrait's large brown eyes that mirrored her own, and asked her softly, "Where is he, Abelinda?  Is Greg here?"

The little girl looked up from play and nodded, whispering, "Downstairs, in Daddy's room."  She went back to the frog prince.  "But you have to be quiet.  He's sleeping."

Oh, fuck, she thought.  She raced down the stairs, mind churning frantically.  Daddy's room?  An office?  A study?  Then it dawned on her. The lounge.  Where the liquor is. 

She flew down the hall and was mortified with the sight that met her eyes.  Gregory was half leaned against the foot of the couch, his legs splayed out in front of him, and his head lolling to the side, a bottle in his hand.  She grabbed the bottle and threw it against the wall, ignoring the shatter that it made and began slapping his face, first gently, then with more insistence. 

"Gregory?  Gregory!  Wake up, darling!"

She shook him, which only caused his his body to slump and his head to hit the floor, and still he didn't wake.  Oh, no, no, no, no, no, no.  Not Gregory.  Shite!  What do I do?  What do I do?  With a resolve that she didn't know she had, she took hold of Greg and thought, "Healing Hands of Hogsmeade!" and Apparated them to the clinic.

Ginny had been staring at the wall, replaying the previous night's events in her head and mentally kicking herself when she heard the pop of Apparation. She spun in the chair, peering over the counter and through the window at the front of the shop. She jumped up when she saw one person standing, but another slumped on the ground. She ran around the counter, pushing open the door before kneeling next to the prone man. She looked up, schooling her features not to be shocked when she recognized Pansy Parkinson. "What happened?"

"I-- I don't know, exactly.  I know he'd been drinking, there was a bottle in his hand, but," her voice dropped to a whisper, "I don't know exactly what else he's taken today.  He's taken Somnio and Volo in the past."  She looked down at the still man lying on the ground and tightened her hold on him.  "Oh, gods, please, can you help him?" 

Ginny's eyes widened at the potions. They were highly addictive, and she had no idea how he'd even gotten a hold of them. She rolled the man onto his back, screwing her mouth shut as she recognized Goyle. She put her fingers to his neck, feeling the faint pulse in his neck. "We need to get him inside."

She pulled her wand from her back pocket and cast a levitating charm on him, careful not to jostle him too much. If he'd fallen, she'd be worried about hurting him further, but if this was an potions overdose, she was more worried about getting them out of his system as soon as possible. She grabbed the door handle and held it open, following his body as it entered before her. She turned back and looked at Pansy. "You found him like this? What had he been drinking?"

She looked at the ground, her mind working furiously.  "Muggle liquor.  Vodka, I think?  Goose something?  And the owl I sent you with those questions last week was about him.  He didn't want anyone to know.  If I'd known it was this bad, though, I would have done something sooner."  She followed Ginny through the door, her fists clenched.  "Is there anything that I can do to help?" 

"Follow me." Ginny led Greg's body to one of the exam rooms, situating it onto the table. She rushed towards the cabinets, pulling out purging potions. They weren't going to make him feel better, but at least it'd clean his system of the illegal potions. "Where the hell did he even get the potions? They're illegal!" She put her fingers on Greg's throat again, feeling for that pulse. She didn't like how scattered it was. She didn't like it at all.

"I don't know!"  Pansy answered nearing hysteria.  "He hasn't been back in England that long, only a couple of weeks.  He was in America before that, but I can't remember where."  She took Greg's hand and squeezed it.  "I should have payed more attention.  I should have checked on him before now.  He was at his parents' home, and he'd have no reason to go there, unless--"  She stopped speaking suddenly.  "Is he still breathing?" 

Ginny was already popping the top to the potion when Pansy had spoke. It was clear she wasn't going to be able to find much more out without having Greg conscious. She pulled his sagging head back before looking up at Pansy. "Open his mouth." She turned, grabbing a tongue depressor and holding both sides of his head. Once Pansy had a grip on his chin, she plunged the bit of wood into his mouth, pulling his tongue out of the way before pouring the potion down. 

Her other hand kneaded his throat, forcing the muscles to work. She looked up at Pansy, her eyes possibly a little more angry that they should have been. This wasn't Pansy's fault, not really, but she'd had an inkling this could happen, had thought far enough ahead to ask hypothetical questions, but she hadn't been there to make sure it didn't happen. "If it's been in his system for too long, this might not work."

Pansy looked at Ginny open-mouthed, before regaining control of her emotions. "What do you mean, 'might not make it'?  He will bloody well make it, he will not die.  He won't.  He can't," she said softly, voice breaking on the last word. Please don't go away, Gregory, she thought. Please stay here.  We need you.  Please. She watched the other woman with watery eyes, and held her breath. 

Ginny held her breath until she felt his throat muscles function. She let out the breath and flicked her wand behind her, summoning the mess pan from the counter. This was not going to be pleasant. She looked up at Pansy with relieved eyes. "I'd take a step back. This can sometimes be-" she was cut off when Greg turned onto his side, vomiting rather violently on Pansy's shoes. "-messy."

"Oh, thank the gods," Pansy whispered.  "Gregory?  Gregory darling? Can you hear me?"

"Maeve...Pixie?" Greg muttered, trying to open his eyes only to have everything spinning madly. He groaned, closing his eyes and attempting to level his senses out. I feel like absolute shite. He tried again, opening his eyes slowly and catching sight of red hair before his stomach lurched. Oh fuck, purging potions. "Fred?" he asked softly, hoping Fred was here, everything was better when Katie and Fred were with him. Then he remembered that they were together and didn't need him...want him anymore.

A look of mild irritation crossed Pansy's face.  "You're zero for three, Gregory.  It's Pansy, darling."  Her voice softened again, and she continued.   "We're in Weas-" she looked at Ginny inquisitively for a moment, "Ginny Weasley's office in Hogsmeade.   I found you near death on the floor of the lounge at Stone Walk.  What happened, darling?" 

Ginny's eyebrows furrowed at the mention of her brother's name. Huh?  She moved around the room, grabbing a second potion that would help with the nausea of the purging potion. She mixed it carefully, listening to their conversation though her back was turned.

"Don't," Greg muttered. "I..." he gagged and tried to keep his nausea in check. He hated purging potions, having dealt with them before. They were necessary, he reminded himself. "I fucked up," he admitted softly. He was groggy so he didn't even attempt to say more.

Pansy brushed Greg's hair off of his forehead and bent to look at him.  "It's alright, love.  We can talk about that later.  It's going to be fine.  You need to tell her what you've taken, though, so she can help you."  Pansy implored Ginny with her eyes, though her voice was calm and soothing.

Greg winced, though he knew better than not explaining even though he'd not heard half of what Pansy said. His ears were ringing and his vision was still quite blurry. He knew it would take an hour or so and more potions before everything leveled out and he wasn't confused. He knew, in the back of his mind, that reality would slip in and out- replaced by the Somnio hallucinations. There were worse potions out there than the potions he took and the purging potions. Part of him remembered that if he didn't tell, they would treat the worst case scenario. "Somnio, Volo, and enough vodka to fill the Hogwarts lake," he admitted, squeezing his eyes closed as another wave of nausea hit. He reached for the pendant he hadn't taken off since he bought it, squeezing it and feeling a bit closer to the two he could never have.

Ginny turned around, unable to hide the look of shock on her face. "Are you insane? If you weren't such a large man, then that would have killed you. It would have killed me. Or her." She gestured to Pansy. "Merlin, how long have you been taking them?"

Greg groaned, turning to vomit- in the mess pan, thankfully. "Years, I've been clean almost five...sort of," he whispered once he'd controlled the urge to vomit again. "Somnio only when the nightmares got too bad." He laid back, closing his eyes as the vertigo came back with a vengeance.

"Can you do anything for him?" she asked Ginny softly.  Then, lowering her voice, she whispered  "You mentioned 'medical detoxification' in your owl, is that what he needs?"

Looking up at Pansy, Ginny nodded slowly. "He's going to need potions on a regular basis to clear the drugs out of his system. Yes, the purging potion got most of it, but it's not going to get the trace amounts in his blood. He'll need to take a blood thinning potion, which means he'll need to be under house-arrest for at least a week. Any small spill resulting in a cut and he'd lose three times as much blood as he would under normal circumstances."

She shook her head. "This isn't going to be a pretty recovery. He almost died." She looked from Greg to Pansy.

Pansy's face looked stricken for a moment, and then she regained control and the placid expression was firmly back in place.  "I can stay with him.  He has friends that can help."  She then stepped away from Greg momentarily and moved to Ginny.

"First of all, you should know that I never do this, however," she steeled her resolve, placing her hand on Ginny's arm, and continued, "I want you to know that I truly appreciate what you've done for Gregory.  His life means a great deal to me, and consequently, if there is anything that I can ever do for you, consider it done."  Their eyes met, and she repeated herself.  "Anything at all."

Ginny wasn't sure what to say to that. Pansy's tone left no argument on what she was meaning. Knowing the money the witch had at her fingertips, that could be a great many things. She swallowed. "It's my job. I'm just glad you got him here in time. A few more hours..." She left the sentence hang in the air.

She looked over Pansy's shoulder at Greg, who looked oblivious to what was going on in the room. She took a step closer to Pansy. "Does-" She lowered her voice. "Does Draco know about him being this way?"

The very corner of Pansy's mouth tipped up a bit when the other woman mentioned Draco's name, before returning to place.  She shook her head and sighed.  "No.  I can't imagine that he does. Draco did mention that Gregory was drinking heavily last week, but that's really nothing unusual.  We all do."  Pansy's forehead creased slightly.  "I think I'm the only one he told.  About the potions, that is."

She crossed back to Greg, and putting her hand on his cheek, turned back to Ginny.  "I understand that this is your job.  The offer still stands."  Unbidden, a smile crept onto her lips.  "Send an owl anytime.  Or Draco knows where to find me, as well."

Deciding not to tell Pansy that she would be avoiding Draco at all costs after what had happened the night before, she nodded. Crossing over to the cabinet, she pulled down several vials of potion. After explaining to Pansy to schedule Greg would have to take, and advising against him eating anything heavier than broth for the next two days, she smiled softly. "He's going to need to be mothered for a bit. I hope you and his friends can handle it."

Her eyebrow rose involuntarily at the word 'mother.'  Pursing her lips, she looked back at Greg, who had fallen asleep, and patted his shoulder.  "Yes, we'll help Gregory get better."  She placed a small kiss on his temple and said, "He owes me a new pair of shoes."

[Summary] Greg overdoses and Pansy is the one to find him. Ginny is the hero of the day.