Greg curled up under the blankets Pansy had piled on him. He was shaky just yet. The knowledge that Fred and Katie still wanted him was just about the only thing keeping him going. That and the threat of Pansy's temper if he fucked up again. The thought of Fred and Katie was helping him, even though he wasn't stupid enough to think that they didn't have a long way before their relationship was anywhere near usual. He had seen Katie as a savior of sorts, though what little he knew of her had drawn him in immediately. Fred...explaining his initial feelings for Fred was easy. Sex was an escape. The thought of wanting more was a pleasant one, one he hoped they would explore. Since his talks with both had gone well, it was one less worry for the moment.

He groaned and rolled, catching sight of the framed picture of himself and Raven. He sighed heavily. I need to write to Raven. Even if he's going to throw a fit...Draco too. Don't remember if I owled him or not. Hell, I don't remember what I wrote.



He thought over the past few years and how he had continued to run from his problems. He'd played the part in school of muscle for Draco. That part had been easy, well easier once he'd found his father's potions stash. The first few years at Hogwarts his confusion had been real. Dyslexia isn't something that goes away or is easily fixed. Latin had kicked his arse and always had. Tracey had been his lifeline at school, helping him with the reading and checking his essays for the glaring mistakes. He'd enjoyed the intimidation factor that came with being overly large- it helped him keep his 'family' safe. Never one to speak much, it had been all too easy to hide his friendship with Tracey and to some extent Pansy from everyone outside Slytherin. He hadn't really allowed anyone as close as Tracey, his Maeve, his honorary baby sister. If he really and truly thought about it, even Pansy was closer than Draco, Vince, and Blaise.

Relationships, of any sort, with girls, had always come easier than with boys. It had been ingrained in him from a very young age that girls were to be protected, spoiled, and in general treated with the utmost care. Tracey had always taken his over-protective behavior with a wry little smile even when they both knew he was a bit over the top. Pansy...he chuckled...Pansy had always had that air about her that she knew she was to be treated as royalty. Hell, it was one of the things he liked most about her. That and her in-your-face bluntness. Pansy had never been one to mince words or keep her opinions to herself. He was going to explain everything to her today and then do the same with Maeve when she came by. He now knew that keeping secrets wasn't the right way to go about things. Raven and his family had taught him that, taught him how to deal with his problems in a healthier way than how he'd done it before. He'd just forgotten that, lately. Maybe leaving here was his best option. Maybe returning to the quiet life he'd built in America was the only option he had... at least for a little while. The only reason he hadn't made that decision already was that he knew deep down that he had things to deal with here, first.

Pansy entered the room with a loaded tray, scowling. "I swear, Gregory, by the name of Merlin himself, that I would not act the part of a bloody house elf for anyone but you." She indicated that he should move his legs so that she could sit down on the bed, and set the tray down as well, while fussing over the potions. She read the label on one briefly, shook the vial and handed it to him. "No whinging," she stated imperiously. "Just take it."

Greg wasn't about to argue. He had been through this once before, though the native remedies available in America had been a bit quicker at detoxification. He downed the potion quickly, remembering how nasty they could taste when McGonagall forced some on him. He handed Pansy the empty vial. "Hand them over, Pans, and then I'd like to talk to you. I'll not argue about taking them."

She watched him go through them one by one and, satisfied that he'd taken them all, set the tray on the nightstand and situated herself at the foot of the bed. "Speak."

He pushed himself upright and laid back against the small mountain of pillows. He was fully prepared for lots of yelling. "First off, will you clear out anything remotely alcoholic? I don't want it around. At least not for now. I cleaned up once before and am asking for help. I guess some part of me knew I needed help when I showed up at your place and spilled all that I did." He held up his hand to stave off any interruptions. "The group therapy isn't good for me. I tried it when I first got to America. I need friends and family around me. Will you help?"

Pansy nodded, tucked her feet further underneath her, and shot him an incredulous look. "Like that wasn't the first thing I did after I got you settled? All of the liquor is gone. What else? Who can I tell, now? Because it was damned selfish of you to ask me to keep it all to myself. I don't know that I can do this singlehandedly, Gregory. You're going to need more that I can give you."

Wincing, he nodded. "I know that, and I should never have asked that of you in the first place." He ran a hand through his tangled hair and tugged on the long sleeved shirt he had donned in deference to the withdrawl symptoms. They were mild compared to what he would be suffering if he hadn't had all the purging potions in addition to the ones Pansy had been given. Rapid detox wasn't for everyone, but the wizarding medical community had improved upon the Muggle methods quite a bit in the past few years. "I will explain to Tracey and Draco...Katie and Fred too."

Pansy shook her head. "I wouldn't worry overmuch about the other two, but Tracey? Displeased. Draco? I cannot even begin to imagine the little tantrum his royal highness is going to pitch in response to this whole escapade." She shook her head again in mock pity. "You'd better strengthen up fast, Gregory. You have a lot ahead of you."

She softened slightly, and put her hand on his leg. "But not just yet. Ginny, erm, Weasley, you know, the healer girl, said you needed rest, and lots of it. So I don't care what you think you have to do, or where you think you have to go. You're in this bed til I say you can get out." She glared at him. "Understand?"

He laughed weakly. "Yes, I understand. I also know that Draco and Trace are not going to be happy with me. Even when the detox is complete...I know I'll still have the urge to go for the potions or alcohol. I should have never taken the potions. I know that now...hell, I knew that then. I should never have thought that I had to protect you from me."

Pansy raised her eyes heavenward. "He gets it! Finally!" Looking at him with a bemused expression, she continued, "Wouldn't it have been easier all around if you'd accepted that a month ago?" She smiled softly at him.

He shrugged. "Actually I should have accepted that years ago. It took a very wise man to make me realize that I was hiding behind the 'brainless muscle' persona my father wanted for me. When I was younger it was all too easy to fall into the pattern of following behind Draco, and allowing him to dictate my actions. I thought for many years that a learning disability meant that I had to be stupid, that I had no reason to try to better myself. I thought that passing, barely, was all I had to do. It didn't matter to me that even then you and Trace didn't notice that I started taking the potions, that I was glassy-eyed and barely aware because of them. I wanted to protect you...everyone really."

He looked Pansy in the eyes, trying to get across just how serious he was. "I, somewhere along the line, thought that I had to shoulder everything...Tracey's issues with her mother, your difficulties, even Draco's...," he trailed off with a sigh. "I don't know why or even how I came to that conclusion either. Da made it clear that I wasn't worthy of the Goyle name." Frustrated, he shoved his hand through his hair, yanking on the tangles. "He told me time and again that using my physical strength was the only option I had."

Pansy stood, gathering up the tray, and looked at him for a long moment. "We are not our fathers, Gregory. Any of us. I think that's a lesson the lot of us need to re-learn. It's high time that we, all of us, start living our own lives and come out of the shadows and mistakes of the past. I am, Draco is, Blaise certainly has, Daph, Snape... Even Tracey's getting there. You should too," she finished, with a firm nod.

He slid back down, pulling the blankets up. He shot Pansy a grateful look. "Remind me of that if I forget... Oh, and did I really hear you say something about me owing you shoes?"

Her expression immediately became one of distaste. Nodding, she replied, "Yes, and the more times you bring that incident to my attention, the more pairs of shoes you'll have to buy. We'll not speak of it again, yes? When you get better, we'll have a lovely shoe shopping outing, in which you will buy me all sorts of pretty things in order to make up for your... poor behaviour."

Greg pulled the blankets over his head as not to face Pansy's wrath. His voice was muffled when he called, "Of course, pet. We'll not discuss it again."

"Sleep, Gregory. Everything will be better in the morning," she promised, yet not at all sure if what she'd said was true. With one last worried glance a the pile of blankets, she extinguished the lights and closed the door softly, carrying the tray out with her.

{Summary: Pansy and Greg discuss his recovery. Pansy bullies him a bit.}