Saving the Savior

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/1040700.

Rating: Explicit
Archive Warning: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Category: M/M
Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Relationship: Gregory Goyle/Harry Potter
Characters: Harry Potter, Gregory Goyle, Luna Lovegood, Ron Weasley, Hermione
Granger, Rubeus Hagrid, Draco Malfoy, Horace Slughorn
Additional Tags: Dark Magic, Kidnapping, Non-Graphic Violence, Implied/Referenced
Torture, Sexual Content, Anal Sex
Language: English
Collections: Short Favorites
Stats: Published: 2013-11-11 Words: 10,718 Chapters: 1/1
 Saving the Savior
by dragontara

Summary

Harry is kidnapped. No one has a clue as to what happened and who did it. Greg Goyle might
have seen something, but he’s a Slytherin and thus not a reliable witness. He has to take
matters into his own hands.

Notes

My first and probably only fic pairing other than Harry/Draco.

Gift fic for davros fan, who requested Harry Potter/Greg Goyle, Harry being kidnapped and
Greg goes to save him, with some other details.
Betaed by lovely gusx217
SAVING THE SAVIOR

It all happened so fast that if Greg had blinked his eyes at the wrong time, he would have
missed it. Fortunately he had been watching Potter closely for some time now, and thus he
noticed immediately when two wizards and one witch appeared from nowhere in the middle
of Hogsmeade interrupting their peaceful day off, surrounded Potter and Apparated away
with him. The echo of Potter’s wand still clattering against the cobblestones filled the stunned
silence while dozens of students gaped in shock at what had just happened. Then chaos
erupted all around the crowd, Granger and Weasley burst into motion and frantically started
to search for any evidence left at the crime scene. Greg retreated back to the shadows of an
alley where he had been watching, hearing Potter’s surprised shout still ringing in his ears.
There was something familiar about one of the kidnappers, the witch, but Greg couldn’t
remember where he had seen the woman before. Deep in thought he turned and headed back
to Hogwarts, deciding there was nothing he could do to help anyone here at the moment.

Greg Goyle was an observer. He kept his eyes and ears open and learned a lot about the
people around him just by observing them. Usually people thought that he was stupid, the
dolt minion of Slytherin’s ice prince Draco Malfoy, but that was only the surface. Deep
inside, Greg was much more than met the eye. Yes, he was average by almost every standard;
his looks, his intelligence, his social skills, his tastes – really everything – but when it came
to loyalty, he was fierce and protective at who he let close enough to really know him.
Despite his reputation of being a nasty bully – although he was very capable of being that
anyway, in reality he could be a very gentle person if he chose to.

He knew that he had changed a lot since the the war, well, who hadn't? Those awful events
had left a permanent impact on everything he was, everything he ever had been and
everything he was ever going to be. His appearance hadn’t changed so much; he had shed the
last of his baby fat from his body and gained a good amount of muscle instead. Otherwise he
looked about the same as before; tall wizard with short dark hair, and his appearance still
frightened the younger students even though he was sure that his eyes gave him away most of
the time. They looked so much bigger now that his face had narrowed since the war.

He had been watching Potter since right after the last battle of Hogwarts, after Potter had
defeated the Dark Lord. He had seen how Potter had reacted to his still growing fame, how he
had shut himself off from everyone as the people around him got more and more enthusiastic
about his presence. Greg had felt pity for him; the worshipped hero couldn’t get a moment of
peace anywhere he went, and he obviously got anxious when the adoring crowd surrounded
him. Sometimes Greg entertained himself with the thought of grabbing Potter and rescuing
him from all that hassle, especially when even Potter’s closest friends didn’t seem to notice
how uncomfortable he was in the middle of his adoring fans. It seemed to Greg that Potter
had been distancing himself from a lot of people who used to be close to him, but Weasley
and Granger remained his closest friends. Potter hadn’t even gotten back together with the
Weasley girl after the war and that was surprising. Potter wasn’t his old self anymore, that
was obvious.

The news of Potter’s disappearance had already reached the castle, and Hogwarts was
buzzing with excitement and worry. All the students were ushered back to their own common
rooms while the professors gathered in an emergency meeting at the Headmistress’ office.
Greg wandered back to the Slytherin dungeons and was greeted with an excited and gloating
crowd when he entered the common room.

“Greg, did you see what happened in Hogsmeade today?” Draco asked smirking. “The good
old Golden Boy got snatched right in front of everyone. Maybe we finally got rid of him for
good this time!”

Draco still loved to show his distaste towards Potter in front of everyone, even though there
hadn’t been real malice behind his acts after the war. Greg was quite sure that it was all
bravado, just like a hard habit to break.

“Well, yeah, I saw Potter Apparating away with two wizards and one witch. I think I know
one of them from somewhere, but I can’t remember where,” Greg explained hesitantly.

“Don’t bother your head with it, Greg. The-Boy-Who-Disappeared is gone, let’s celebrate!”

Greg didn't bother arguing back, but he didn’t feel like partying either, so he went to his dorm
and prepared for an early night. He cast a silencing charm around his bed so his celebrating
dorm mates wouldn’t wake him in the middle of the night. Then, just like any other night at
Hogwarts, he went to sleep.

It wasn’t his noisy dorm mates who woke him up in the middle of the night, but the strange
dream he was having. It made him startle awake sweaty and in panic. In his dream he had
been in Knockturn Alley, following Potter, trying to make him stop, because he had an
ominous feeling that something really bad was going to happen to him. Potter didn’t hear his
calls, he just walked ahead, but then a familiar witch appeared in front of Potter and yanked
him inside the worn Chemist. Greg cried out in despair and ran after them, but when he
wrenched the door open, the Chemist was empty. All Greg could find was Potter’s wand on
the floor. An anxious cry escaped from Greg’s lips and to that sound he finally woke up.

It took him several moments to calm down from the nightmare, but when he eventually could
think straight again, he realized that now he knew where he had seen the witch before. He
needed to find an excuse to visit Knockturn Alley as soon as possible.

*H*G*

It took two days and some clever scheming from Greg until he got to leave Hogwarts for one
afternoon and evening. Not that he was given any extra attention anyways, because everyone
was frantic about Potter’s disappearance and entirely focussed on finding him. Even the
Headmistress wasn’t at Hogwarts at the moment, but doing her research elsewhere and
having lengthy meetings at the Ministry.

Greg wasn’t expected back until the next morning, so he took his time watching Knockturn
Alley and it’s shopkeepers under the Disillusionment Charm, because he didn’t want to risk
anyone recognizing him. He didn’t know what compelled him to go after Potter, it wasn’t as
if it was his concern. There were already so many people out there with a much better grasp
of the situation and better resources at hand to actually find their Savior, but somehow Greg
knew that he had information that no one else did, and he needed to find out if his
information was correct before he passed it to someone else.

Greg wandered along Knockturn Alley trying to locate the shady Chemist shop he had seen
in his dream. It was surprisingly difficult and it took him a good while to locate the entrance
of the Chemist in a dark alley just off Knockturn. He remembered visiting the shop several
years back with his father, and the mere thought of that dusty, weird smelling little shop made
him shiver in disgust. There had been long shelves full of jars containing the most disgusting
things like preserved little animals and probably human or large animal organs. One jar was
filled with preserved eyes, which seemed to stare right at Greg where ever he happened to
stand in the shop. Now, Greg didn’t even try to force himself to go in there again. He settled
for waiting in front of the shop, leaning on the opposite wall right across from it in the
narrow alley.

The first couple of hours of his stakeout revealed three customers visiting the shop, and he
knew two of them from his father’s circle of acquaintances. Greg wondered what they were
purchasing from the shop. Something illegal, probably. Otherwise they’d have been using Mr.
Mulpepper’s Apothecary at Diagon Alley.

It was getting chilly and Greg was shivering under his robes. It was late October and he
cursed silently for not putting on warmer clothing. Soon, though, he forgot all about his
feeling cold when he noticed movement inside the shop. There weren't any customers inside
so it must have been the apothecary himself or his assistant. Then the lights inside were
dimmed and someone came by the door. A dark haired witch peeked out of the door before
putting on the “closed” sign and going back inside. Greg held his breath: the witch was the
same one he had seen disappearing with Potter in Hogsmeade and who had snatched Potter in
his dream.

Greg stood frozen in place trying frantically to think of what to do next; he couldn’t just
barge into the shop demanding answers, could he? What if the witch Flooed somewhere
straight from the shop? Greg would never know where she had gone and if she had anything
to do with Potter’s kidnapping. Greg was getting colder, worried and anxious, not to mention
that he hadn’t eaten all afternoon. Now he was hungry, and he was absolutely incapable of
thinking at all with an empty stomach.

Soon, though, he forgot all about his discomfort when the door opened and the witch stepped
outside. Without looking around, she hurried deeper into the shadows of the alley, further
away from Diagon Alley, to the darker parts of Wizarding London. Greg followed her as
silently as he could, keeping only a few meters distance from her; he didn’t want to lose sight
of her. This might be the only opportunity for him to see what the witch had in mind.

A couple of blocks later, the witch turned abruptly to the left and vanished into a shady
gateway. She opened a door and disappeared inside an abandoned looking old house. Greg
carefully peeked through the dark window to see inside, but the house was quiet. There
wasn’t even a ray of light inside. Greg took a deep breath and cracked the door open. When
he didn’t hear or see anything, he cautiously stepped inside.

Silence surrounded him like a suffocating blanket as soon as he entered the house. He
steadied his breath and tried to calm his racing heart, when he heard a quiet creak somewhere
to his right. There were stairs leading up, but just when he decided to follow the sound
upstairs, he heard it again, this time coming from a room behind the stairs. Greg sneaked to
the opened door and peeked inside. The room was empty. No furniture, no curtains, nothing
inside the room but an old looking wardrobe.
Greg went to take a closer look at the wardrobe and cast a Lumos. It looked a lot like the old
wardrobe Draco had been working on during the War, the Vanishing Cabinet, but it couldn’t
possibly be that one. However, the wardrobe looked like it had been used recently, because
everything around it was dusty except for a narrow path of footsteps that led from the door to
the wardrobe, and the doorknob was shiny from being used.

Greg opened the door and looked inside. The wardrobe was empty, and after only a brief
moment of hesitation, Greg stepped inside the wardrobe. Turned out that it was a Vanishing
Cabinet of some sort, because after a short period of disorientation in the darkness, Greg
opened the door to a different house in the middle of nowhere. This house was as empty as
the previous one, and once Greg stepped out of it, he realized it was located in the middle of a
dark, thick forest.

When he looked around, he noticed flickering lights behind the trees and started to follow the
path leading towards them. The path ended at the edge of a clearing, where torches were lit
around several tents and some people were sitting around a campfire in the middle of the
area. Greg stayed hidden in the shadows, taking a careful look at the surroundings. The
clearing was heavily warded, and there were also two wizards standing guard at a gate. The
witch who Greg had followed here, had just passed the guards and was putting her things
back into her purse. This seemed to be an unusually well guarded camp site for leisure use,
and that made Greg even more suspicious.

Greg ignored his growing hunger and cold, and made himself as comfortable as possible at
the edge of the clearing, far enough from the path that if someone walked that way, he
wouldn’t be noticed, and began observing the area and the people inside the camp. He could
see at least twenty four witches and wizards in the area, and the two guards at the gate. No
one could enter or exit the camp without them noticing. As far as Greg could see, the camp
was surrounded by a sturdy barrier that shimmered in the torch light. Obviously it was also
warded with magic, so no one could enter or exit that way either.

The witch Greg had been following went straight to the biggest tent near the back of the area
and disappeared inside. Some time later she came out with a bowl in her hands. She seemed
to carry it carefully as if trying not to spill the contents of the bowl on her way to another tent
nearby. Then a little while after her, two wizards stepped outside the big tent dragging
something between them. Greg took another look and narrowed his eyes. Potter! He seemed
to be in bad shape, probably unconscious, because his feet didn’t hold him up anymore. He
was like a dead weight in the hands of these wizards, and Greg could see blood dripping from
his head and chest. Despite his tortured appearance, Greg could still see that it was Potter. No
doubt about it.
Greg stifled a horrified gasp that threatened to escape his lips at seeing their hero in such
shape. His terrified gaze followed the three figures going into a small tent near the big one,
where the wizards left Potter and then returned back to the big tent. Frantically Greg started
to find his way back to the Vanishing Cabinet to get back to London and then to Hogwarts to
get some help for Potter.

*H*G*

It was almost dawn when Greg arrived back at Hogwarts. He went straight to Draco and
woke him up with an urgent shake.

“What the hell are you on about, Goyle?” Draco snarled at him. He definitely wasn’t a
morning person.

“I found him, Draco. We need to help him. They are beating or torturing him, or something
like that. We need to get him out of there, now!” Greg’s voice was frantic, and for a moment
Draco just stared at him, confused.

“What are you talking about? Found who? And who’s torturing who? You aren't making any
sense, Greg. Go back to sleep and stop bothering me.” Draco flopped back under his blanket
and tried to go back to sleep, but Greg was insistent.

“It’s Potter, I found him! We have to get him help and soon. I don’t think he can last long in
there.”

“You found Potter? In your dreams, Greg. Go back to sleep and leave me alone.”

“But Draco, we have to…”

“We don’t have to do anything, Greg, got it? Everyone is already looking for Potty, they don’t
need us there to meddle in their plans. Now go or I’ll hex you!”
Dejected, Greg left and went to his own dorm. Maybe Draco didn’t believe him, but someone
had to! He started to think of anyone who might take him seriously and be able to help get
Potter out of there quickly.

It was already afternoon, when Greg finally had a chance to go to the Headmistress' office.
He had prepared an explanation that the Headmistress would believe, and give all the
information he had gathered when observing the camp site. Unfortunately, when he arrived at
the office, the Headmistress wasn’t there. She was still at the Ministry, joined in the efforts of
finding Potter. Greg couldn’t do much more than leave her a note about what he had found
and ask her to do something.

Next he approached his Head of House, Professor Slughorn, who listened to what he had to
tell him, but afterwards didn’t seem to take him seriously, either. Especially, when Slughorn
asked where exactly was the camp located, Greg couldn’t give a specific location, so
Slughorn lost his interest. He claimed that Greg had only been having a bad dream, and that
was understandable considering how upsetting the entire situation was. He suggested that
Greg take the Dreamless Sleep potion, because he was obviously suffering from exhaustion.
At hearing that, Greg stormed out of Slughorn’s office and started to make a new plan.

First, he had to get to Potter, to see if he was still alive and if he could be of any help to him.
Obviously he couldn’t get him out of there alone, unnoticed, but at least he could confirm
that he was right and he wasn’t just dreaming as people seemed to think. First of all, he had to
find a way to get past the guards at the gate. Disillusion Charm wasn’t a solution; the magical
wards would notice him under the charm anyway. What could he use to distract the guards
from noticing him? He would have to be practically invisible to get past the gate. Wait,
invisible? Didn’t Potter have an Invisibility Cloak? At least that’s what he had heard. Maybe
he still had it somewhere in his belongings? Greg could only hope that he didn’t have it with
him when he had been kidnapped. If it was still in his trunk in the Gryffindor dorm, Greg
would have a way to get it.

During the evening, Greg kept himself busy collecting things he might need if he managed to
sneak into the camp and actually see Potter. His wounds would need some tending, so he took
a small jar of healing salve and some potions he had available, a Blood-Replenishing Potion
and a Wound-Cleaning Potion. He also managed to find a potion for pain, and he shrunk
them all and pocketed the vials carefully. Then he just had to wait for the night to fall.
It was almost midnight, when he deemed it was safe to try to sneak into the Gryffindor
dorms. He had overheard the password for opening the entrance to the Gryffindor Tower and
now he used it to his advantage. The Fat Lady guarding the entrance to the Gryffindor dorm
didn’t even bat an eye at Greg’s request to enter, she was quite sleepy at this hour anyway.
Greg managed to sneak into the dorm and on the third try he found the right dorm where
Potter bunked. Now, of course, his bed was empty, but his trunk laid still at the foot of his
bed.

Greg cast a silencing spell around Potter’s bed so he could work on the trunk without anyone
hearing him. He rummaged around the contents of the trunk until he felt a silky material
brush his hand. It felt so different from the other things in the trunk that he grabbed the
material and lifted his hand to see it better. He gasped when his hand had disappeared
altogether from his wrist to his fingers: he had found the Invisibility Cloak! Quietly he folded
the Cloak and pocketed it before closing the trunk and began to sneak out of the dorm. He
was half-way out the door, when he heard a bed creak and Weasley’s sleepy voice asking,
“Who’s there? Harry?” Upon hearing Weasley’s voice Greg took off as fast as he could.

He used the Invisibility Cloak all the way back to the camp site and marvelled at the feeling
of being invisible to everyone around him. He didn’t have to sneak anymore, although he
needed to keep quiet so not to raise any suspicions. He made it easily back to the clearing, but
when he came close to the guards at the gate, he hesitated. It felt much more dangerous when
he felt the guards stare right at him, even though he knew they didn’t actually see him. He
just hoped that the magic wards around the camp weren’t attuned only to the people inside
the camp and thus wouldn’t make an alarm when he stepped inside the warded area.

He hadn’t noticed holding his breath until he was safely inside the camp and exhaled in relief.
He quietly passed the few people sitting around the campfire and stopped for a moment to
listen to what they were saying.

“I’m worried. It’s Samhain soon and he hasn’t broken yet. We need to find a way to break
him in the next two days or we’ll lose the opportunity until next year,” said a beautiful
brunette witch. She was young, not much older than Greg, but he didn’t recognize her
although they must have been at Hogwarts at the same time. A grim looking older man took
her hand and squeezed it. “Don’t worry, dear. We’ll break him. We still have some surprises
for him that he can’t fight back, even his extraordinary self-control can’t help him.”

Greg took a step back in disgust and turned towards the tent he had seen Potter taken to the
previous night. He had to get Potter out of here, one way or the other. He slipped through the
doorway flaps of the tent and instantly saw the figure lying on the cot tense visibly.
“Potter?” he whispered quietly. “Potter, it’s me, Greg, Greg Goyle. I’m here to help you.”

In the dim light coming from the torchlights outside, Greg saw the figure on the cot turning
his head to look at him, but then turning his head back towards ceiling as if he didn’t see him.
The Invisibility Cloak! Greg was still wearing it, so no wonder Potter didn’t see him.

Greg pulled the Cloak off and tried again, this time Potter recognized him at once, stiffening
again. Then he huffed as if trying to laugh, but not quite managing it.

“Goyle? You missed the party tonight,” a raspy voice whispered weakly.

“No! No, I’m not one of them. I came here to help you!” Greg whispered urgently.

“How else would you be here if you’re not one of them. Probably no one knows where I am.
Now, fuck off, the show is over for tonight.” Potter’s whisper was weary and he closed his
eyes.

Greg closed the distance between himself and Potter, and inhaled sharply. Now that he could
see Potter closely, he noticed several deep wounds on his skin, some of them were still
dripping blood. His skin was also full of bruises and burn marks, and his face was pale and
his eyes haunted.

“Salazar, what have they done to you?” Greg was horrified.

“As if you don’t know,” Potter scoffed. “What was your favourite part of that show, cutting
or burning? Or that creepy mental torture?”

"You have to believe me, I have nothing to do with this! I was following one of your
kidnappers and that’s how I found this place. I’m here to help you.” Greg was getting
desperate. It seemed today was “don’t believe Goyle” day for everyone around him.
“You’re a Slytherin and you lot hate me. Why else would you be here if not to finish the job
or at least mock me about being weak from torture.”

“Not all the Slytherins hate you. Not anymore. You saved our arses, after all. I don’t think
that Slytherins know how to be grateful, so don’t expect them to come thank you for it.
However, I happened to see you being kidnapped and thought you needed help. I want to help
you, please believe me. No one deserves to be kidnapped or treated like this.” Greg was
surprised how important it suddenly was to him, for Potter to believe him.

Potter stared at him, obviously trying to decide if he could trust him or not. Greg didn’t dare
to say a word or make any abrupt moves. Then Potter blinked, turned his head away and
sighed.

“There’s nothing you can do alone to help me. You can’t use magic here or Apparate away. It
will take a rescue team to get me out of here. Did you tell anyone?”

“Yes, I talked to Malfoy and Slughorn, but neither believed me. I tried to find McGonagall,
too, but she’s at the Ministry trying to figure out what happened to you.”

“Right. I’m doomed then. I won’t last long anyway. Not at this rate. They are getting
desperate, because Samhain is coming soon.” Potter sounded resigned.

“I’ll find a way to get help, I promise. What do they want from you? Some information?”

“As if. They want my power, my magic.”

“What? Why would they want that?”

“It’s some sort of cult. They are going to perform a ritual during Samhain and they’ll need all
the extra power they can get. That’s why they are trying every possible trick to make me lash
out to capture my magic. They have already tried different sorts of pain to break me, but pain
is something I can deal with. They took my blood, but I hardly noticed it. It was harder when
they used Legilimency to torture my mind. I’ve never been good at Occlumency.”

Greg was appalled. Capturing someone’s magic against their will was a vile and despicable
thing to do. It was as if someone was trying to cut off your hands just to get an extra pair for
themselves.

“I’ll get you out of here, one way or the other. You just need to last a little bit longer. I’ll
make someone believe me. Someone, who can help us. Now while I’m here, I could help you
with healing your wounds.”

“No! At least don’t do any magic, they will notice it. There’s wards everywhere. I tried to
perform wandless magic and I paid for it dearly.”

“No magic then. I have some potions and salves with me, let’s use them.”

Greg dug the vials out of his pockets and used them on Potter carefully. After drinking the
pain potion, Potter didn’t flinch and tense so much anymore, when Greg carefully tended his
wounds. As he rubbed the salve on Potter’s skin, he couldn’t help but marvel at how soft and
pliant it was, and how firm his well-defined muscles felt. He started to feel something else in
his gut while caressing Potter’s skin, and he snatched his hands away as if burned when he
realized that he was getting aroused. He had never felt like this with a bloke, and this was
Potter of all people, not to mention that he was injured!

He waited for the healing to begin, and gave Potter some water and a chocolate frog he found
from his pocket. Potter seemed in need of some sustenance and ate it with gusto. They talked
quietly through the night, even though Potter was exhausted. Greg wasn’t usually the one to
talk, but when he noticed how much Potter seemed to be comforted by having company, he
kept talking until just before dawn, when he prepared to leave. He had apologized for stealing
Potter’s Invisibility Cloak, but Potter hadn’t been upset about it. After all, it had been an
essential item for Greg to get to him. They discussed who Greg should talk to for help in
planning a rescue attempt and predictably Potter suggested that Greg should talk to Weasley
and Granger. Greg rolled his eyes, but agreed at least to try. The next option, if the
Headmistress was still not available, was for Greg to talk to any professor he could get to
listen to him, but Greg didn’t put much hope in that ever happening. He was considered a dolt
and firmly in the Potter-hating team, so it was inevitable that no one believed that he knew
something and was willing to help.

When Greg left, Potter seemed to be in better spirits than before, and seemed to have gained
some of his courage and confidence back. Greg promised to be back as soon as possible with
help, and the last sight of Potter rewarded him with a small, warm smile. Greg felt that
warmth all the way back to Hogwarts.

First thing he did, when he arrived back, was to find Potter’s friends. He hadn’t slept all
night, but now that he was a man with a mission, he didn’t feel tired at all. He tried to catch
Weasley and Hermione at breakfast, but when he arrived in the Great Hall, they both had left
for classes already. He had no idea what morning classes they had, because today they didn’t
have classes with the Slytherins until the afternoon.

At lunch he noticed both Weasley and Granger sitting at the Gryffindor table and approached
them.

“Umm… hello, Granger, Weasley,” he started awkwardly.

“What do you want, Goyle?” Weasley snarled.

“Can I have a word with you two, it’s about Potter,” Greg hurried to explain.

“Harry is not your concern, so beat it,” Weasley barked. He was obviously stressed and upset
over the whole situation.

“Ron, maybe he has some…” Granger tried to intervene, but Weasley had already jumped to
his feet and pushed Greg away.

“Fuck off, Goyle! We don’t need any of your mocking right now!” Weasley took Granger by
her arm and dragged her away from the Great Hall.
Greg was fuming. Weasley and Granger of all people should have been open to any
information concerning their best friend! Although he could understand their actions after
everything that had happened between Gryffindors and Slytherins over the years, he was still
frustrated as hell. What next? McGonagall hadn’t returned yet from her visit to the Ministry,
and the other professors were just as unlikely to believe him as his own Head of House.
Granger seemed to be more ready to listen to him than the bloody-minded Weasley, but how
to get to her? Weasley was guarding her like a bloody hawk.

Then Greg remembered Luna Lovegood, and how she was friends with the Weasley girl.
Maybe he could tell Luna about Potter and she could get the Weasley girl to talk to Granger.
He needed to make them listen to him and believe him. Potter was running out of time, and
Greg knew he had to get help quickly in order to save him.

Greg rushed out of the Great Hall in search of Lovegood. She hadn’t been at lunch, so the
next option was the library. Greg had noticed his friends at the Slytherin table looking at him
confused, but he didn’t have time to explain anything to them right now. Neither did he stop
when one of his professors tried to stop him on his way to the library. He knew there would
be hell to pay afterwards, but right now he didn’t care.

Lovegood wasn’t in the library either, and Greg had to stop for a moment to think. A couple
of Ravenclaws passed him on their way to the library and Greg stopped them to ask about
Lovegood. The girls seemed frightened of him and hardly got a word out of their mouths, but
eventually they managed to tell him that Lovegood used to spend time outside, near the Black
Lake. She was there studying some Snorkacks or some sort of rubbish like that.

Greg dashed out of the castle and towards the lake, where he soon noticed Lovegood sitting
on the grass looking as loony as ever. He didn’t have a choice, though, and as far as he knew,
the surface could be deceptive. He of all people knew that painfully well.

“Lovegood, I need your help. It’s Potter,” Greg all but panted after his run.

“Greg, how nice of you to come and greet me. Would you like to see what I’ve found?”
Lovegood’s voice was dreamy.
“No, there’s no time. Listen, I know where Potter is. He needs our help, but Weasley and
Granger refuse to listen to me. You have to help me, help Potter, he doesn’t have much time!”

"Harry? Where is he? Everyone is looking for him.” It was as if Lovegood had finally woken
up from her dream.

“I know that everyone’s looking for him, that’s why I need your help, Lovegood. I followed
one of the kidnappers and found out where they are keeping him. It’s some sort of cult and
they are going to sacrifice him or something during Samhain. We have to get him out of there
as soon as possible!”

“Oh, but Samhain is so soon. Tell me everything, Greg,” Lovegood instructed and there
wasn’t any sign of her earlier dreamlike tone left in her voice.

Greg told her everything he knew and answered all of her questions as best as he could.
Lovegood looked more determined with every frustrated explanation of how he had tried to
tell so many people about Potter, and no one believed him. When he was finished explaining
the situation to Lovegood, she looked anxious but very determined. She stood up, brushing
her clothes and then straightened up to her full height.

“Thank you, Greg. I’m glad you came to me with your information. I’ll make sure that they
listen to me and come to help you and Harry. Now, I think it would be best if you put the
Invisibility Cloak to good use again and go back to Harry. He needs to know that help is on
the way.”

“But… don’t you need me to show you the house where the Vanishing Cabinet is?”

“You already told me where the house is. I can find it by your instructions. If it makes you
feel any better, you can drop this necklace on the ground next to the first step at the front
door. That way I’ll be sure that we are at the right house.” Lovegood took the necklace off
her neck and offered it to Greg. He took it and put it in his pocket.

“Please, just make sure you have enough people in your rescue team. There’s so many of
them in the camp and we will need all the help we can get. I’ll try to keep Potter safe until
you arrive, alright?” Greg wanted to be sure that Lovegood knew what she was dealing with.
“I will wait for you until midnight tonight. If you’re not there then, I’ll have to take him out
of there some other way. We don’t have any time to waste.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll get help one way or the other. Trust me. Harry is my friend, and I’ll do
everything I can to get him out of there. If something goes wrong, the people at Hogwarts
aren’t the only ones who can help us.”

Feeling reassured, Greg nodded at Lovegood and left. He had a feeling that he could trust
Lovegood, if not for himself, at least for Potter.

*H*G*

When he arrived back to the camp, he noticed that something was going on. The people in
the campsite were excited and obviously anticipating something. Greg was alarmed; this
didn’t look good for Potter. He sneaked around a bunch of people at the campfire and caught
short parts of conversations. It sounded like they all were sure that something was going to
happen tonight, something big. Greg only hoped that it wouldn’t be breaking Potter.

He stepped inside Potter’s tent and froze in place. The tent and the cot where Potter had laid
were empty. What had happened? Where was Potter, and what’s more important, what was
happening to him? Bile rose in his throat just thinking about what might have happened, if
Potter had already been broken, or even dead. He had a sinking feeling in his stomach when
he started to rummage around the tent, searching for any hint or evidence of what was going
on.

He found nothing that would help him to figure out the situation so he just stood there under
the Invisibility Cloak his mind going into overdrive trying to decide what to do next, where
to start searching for Potter. He was getting frantic, and just the thought of being frantic and
worried about Potter’s whereabouts stopped him in his tracks. He couldn’t believe how he
could have missed that: his feelings for Potter had changed without him noticing it.
Somewhere along the way Potter had turned from being just an intriguing person to someone
Greg had come to care a lot about. He had never been attracted to anyone before, not a girl or
a boy, but now he felt a strong urge to protect Potter, to keep him safe… and with him. The
thought made Greg feel dizzy; he would have to mull over that as soon as he had more time,
after he had Potter safely out of here, but first he had to find him.
Greg was just about to walk out of the tent, when he heard voices approaching outside.

“Now all we have to do is wait, and let him simmer in his own juices until the ritual. This
time we did it; he couldn’t fight this off just like the other times. Soon we’ll have all the
power we need to call our master.” The speaker sounded darkly pleased at the progress they
obviously had achieved with Potter, and Greg felt coldness crawling up his spine. What had
they done to Potter?

Soon the door flaps of the tent opened and two wizards dragged a very anguished Potter
inside. Greg instinctively took a couple of steps back so he was well out of their way. The
wizards tossed Potter on the cot, and Greg realized that Potter was stark naked. He was
writhing and moaning in agony, and the wizards chuckled mockingly at him before leaving
the tent.

Greg approached Potter cautiously. He didn’t see any new wounds on him – well, he couldn’t
force his eyes further down Potter’s body than his waist, but he seemed unharmed physically.
What had they done to him? Some new form of mind torture?

Chucking off the Cloak, Greg crouched next to Potter and warily touched his shoulder.

“Potter? What’s wrong? What did they do to you?” he whispered urgently.

Dark green eyes flew open and Potter’s eyes stared at him without fully focusing on anything
at all.

“Goyle… you have to help me. Do something… or distract me… whatever… just help me,”
Potter’s voice was hoarse and he was practically panting.

“What is it? What do you want me to do?”

“They… found a way to… break me… that I can’t fight off… argh, I’m burning… I can’t…”
Then Potter closed his eyes and convulsions wracked his body. Greg tried to get a better hold
of his shoulders and arms to keep him from falling off the cot, but Potter turned it into free
style wrestling with his wriggling, bucking and rubbing against Greg. It took a moment for
Greg to realize that Potter was trying to pull him on top of himself. He snatched his hands off
Potter as if burned and stumbled backwards in shock.

“Potter! What… what are you doing?”

“Help me… I can’t do it myself… they bound me with… magic… that I can’t… touch
myself. You have to help me, Goyle…” Potter was sweating now, and his body was tense as a
bow string. His hands reached for Greg, but Greg stayed out of his reach, confused.

“What are you talking about? Why can’t you touch yourself? And why should you?”

“For fuck’s sake, Goyle! Ahhh… fuck… They put me under a spell and… shit… gave me a
potion to make me… so fucking horny that I need you to… do something about it!” Potter
demanded utterly irritated at Greg’s dumbness. Potter gestured at the nether regions of his
body and Greg’s shocked eyes followed the gesture.

“Oh… right,” Greg managed to choke out, while his eyes roved on Potter’s gorgeous body.
Greg’s gaze marvelled at Potter’s tanned, smooth skin and well-defined muscles that twitched
and strained under his skin. There was a tuft of chest hair on Potter’s chest that Greg’s fingers
itched to tug. His nipples were brownish and so aroused that they were hard nubs tempting
Greg’s lips and tongue to play with. When Greg finally found his courage and took a good
glance at Potter’s cock, it was jutting proudly from it’s bed of dark curls, so hard that it was
dark purple and obviously painful.

“Right, well…” Greg stuttered and hesitantly lifted his hand towards Potter’s cock.
Impatiently Potter grabbed his hand and put it on his cock.

“Get on with it, already!” Potter’s whisper was almost as a desperate cry. Greg obliged and
closed his eyes in his embarrassment. He didn’t exactly know what to do – he hadn’t done
this to anyone but himself – but he figured that Potter wasn’t probably in any state to
complain. He cautiously wrapped his hand around Potter’s shaft and stroked, slowly and
carefully at first, but when Potter whimpered and urged him to go faster and with a stronger
grip, he didn’t hesitate.

Greg’s own cock was straining in his pants and it was getting incredibly hot in his clothes.
With his other hand, he opened his robes and dropped them on the floor. Then he opened the
buttons of his shirt, leaving the shirt open revealing his broad chest. Potter took advantage of
it and started rubbing his hand along Greg’s chest, while his fingers rubbed and twisted his
nipples. Greg moaned and threw his head back – that felt wonderful! Then Potter’s hand
found it’s way to Greg’s trousers and dug under the waistband. A calloused hand wrapped
around his fully erect cock and started to stroke urgently. Greg gasped and had to restrain
himself from not coming right there and then.

After a few strokes, Potter’s hand went to Greg’s neck and pulled him into a heated kiss.

“It's not working… argh… it’s not enough… I need more. You have to… to fuck me, Goyle!”
Potter groaned through gritted teeth against Greg’s lips.

Greg's mind was still reeling from Potter’s ministrations and it took a moment for the words
to sink in. He froze and tried to pull away, but Potter’s grip on his neck kept him in place.

“Do it,” Potter groaned.

“Tell me what to do,” Greg rasped, not quite believing what he was about to do, and with
Potter, of all people.

“Fingers first… use some lube… then shove your big cock in… now, Goyle!”

“Lube? I don’t have any lube with me!”

“Any salve left? Use it.”

Greg scrambled backwards reaching for his robes. He removed a jar of healing salve from his
pocket, hoping that it wouldn’t cause any side-effects from this intended misuse. He dipped
his fingers into the jar and collected a good dollop of the salve in his hand. Then he hesitantly
reached towards Potter’s crotch, but once again Potter took matters into his own hands. With
one hand he lifted his leg so that his knee was against his chest and with the other hand he
guided Greg’s slick fingers to his arse.

Greg felt his ears blush at the first feeling of Potter’s arse against his hand as he carefully
brushed his fingers along Potter’s crack. When Potter wriggled impatiently under his questing
hand, he finally rubbed one finger against Potter’s entrance and pushed in. It felt as if an
intense vortex had sucked his finger inside Potter’s arse, and that feeling made his own cock
twitch in anticipation. He slid his finger in and out of Potter a few times, until Potter grunted,
“More.” Then he added another finger and stroked them in and out of Potter with more speed.
The next request of more made him add a third finger into the mix, and that made Potter’s
hole clench almost unbearably around his fingers. Yet he did as he was asked to, and fucked
Potter with his fingers, until Potter grew impatient, once again. He must have been almost
delirious with lust at this point.

“Now, Goyle, do it. Fuck me, please,” Potter begged, and Greg didn’t have to be told twice.
His own prick was throbbing in his now opened trousers, and his head was spinning with
desire.

Greg yanked Potter sideways on the narrow cot. The cot was low, so it made Greg’s cock
perfectly aligned to Potter’s entrance, when Greg was kneeling on the floor. He pushed
Potter’s knees against his chest and without preamble pushed his cock inside.

They both moaned in unison as Greg pushed himself in to the hilt. The feeling of Potter’s hot,
snug heat around his prick was incredible, and Greg had to keep himself in place to prevent
himself coming too soon. Potter wasn’t willing to wait any longer, though, and urged Greg to
move by digging his heels in Greg’s lower back and pulling him deeper. Greg wondered if
Potter was always this impatient and bossy when having sex, or was it the magic and potion
induced lust doing the talking at the moment.

Nevertheless, Greg started rocking his hips against Potter slowly at first, but soon his pace
turned faster and harder, and eventually he was pounding into Potter with abandon. Much too
soon he felt his balls tighten up and the hot wave of pleasure spreading through his whole
body and then he was coming, deep inside Potter’s arse. He collapsed on top of Potter, still
shuddering from the force of his climax, as he kept thrusting shallowly inside Potter. He
turned his head and glanced at Potter lying under him, his eyes open and looking at Greg
accusingly.

“You okay?” Greg asked hesitantly.

“Of course not! You were supposed to help me to get release, but instead you helped only
yourself.”

“You asked me to fuck you and I just did! What else do you want me to do?”

“Help me to get the fucking release before these bastards come and take me to their fucking
ritual,” Potter’s voice was rising in frustration.

“For fuck’s sake, I’ll get you off, one way or the other, no need to get bitchy,” Greg
grumbled, “and keep your voice down, we don’t want any guards barging in here right now.”

Greg returned his attention to Potter’s cock and wanked him furiously, until his own cock
twitched again in interest, and Greg could stimulate Potter with both his cock and hand. That
finally paid off, this time Greg lasted longer than the first time, but the strong effect of the
used spell and potion didn’t wear off that easily. Greg had to repeat his actions twice more
before Potter sighed in relief and his feverish lust lessened to a bearable level. They curled
together on the narrow cot, Greg spooning Harry from behind and wrapping his hand around
the tortured young man. He was on the verge of sleep, but just then Potter opened his mouth.

“Umm… I’m sorry for how I acted, Goyle. Let’s say that I wasn’t myself. Anyway, I’m
sorry.”

“Don’t be, Potter. I understand. Using that spell and potion together on you was a vile thing
to do, I could see it was agony for you.”

“Yeah, it was like a bad itch that couldn’t be scratched. I’m glad you were here to help me
out. I guess now they know how to break me. Merlin, the energy of my climax could have lit
the better half of Hogsmeade,” Potter chuckled weakly.

"Huh?" Greg wasn't quite following Potter’s words.

“I meant electricity, and maybe comparing it to Hogsmeade wasn’t quite correct, but that’s
about how I felt. Thank you, anyway, for your help, Goyle.”

“My pleasure,” Greg whispered, and after a moment of stunned silence, they both burst out
laughing at the same time.

"Pleasure, indeed," Potter whispered still chuckling. "Now that that’s out of the way, did you
get any help for getting us out of here?”

“That wasn’t easy. McGonagall still isn’t back from her trip to the Ministry, and when I tried
to talk to Granger and Weasley, he pushed me away. I think Granger might have listened to
me, but Weasley didn’t let her. Then I remembered that Lovegood is friends with the Weasley
girl, so I talked to her, and she promised to get help for us. Do you trust her?”

“Trust who - Luna? Of course. She might be a little bit weird, but when she’s determined to
do something, nothing will stop her.” Potter relaxed against Greg and wrapped his hands on
top of his. “I think we should get prepared for the night. They will come for me before their
ritual, and that’s about to happen at midnight. You better put the Cloak back on, Goyle. Or
should I start calling you Greg from now on, after you’ve shagged me half silly?”

Greg chuckled, “Silly enough for calling me Greg, huh? Yeah, you can call me Greg, but I’ll
call you Potter… er, Harry, then, alright?”

“Deal. Now you better get dressed. I don’t know what happened to my clothes, so I guess I’m
staying starkers.”

“As if that wouldn’t be distracting,” Greg muttered under his breath, but fortunately Harry
didn’t hear him.
They sat in silence for a long while, both deep in thought. Greg thought about what would
happen when they got back to Hogwarts, and if there was any chance for them to continue
seeing each other. He was more than ready to start officially dating Potter and confronting all
the prejudices the other students might toss his way, but what about Harry? He had been
under the influence of that damned potion and spell when they had had sex; was there any
chance that he might want to be with him in real life, too? Greg wasn’t sure about it, and he
was getting anxious about it. Was he ready to let go of Harry now that he had got a taste of
how wonderful it would be?

His thoughts were interrupted by two wizards entering the tent, and Greg wrapped the
Invisibility Cloak tighter around himself. It wouldn’t do any good if he let them see him at
this point; they would easily overpower him, and then he would be of no use to Potter.

The wizards were chatting when they arrived, and thus they didn’t see Harry’s condition
immediately. However, when they grabbed him to take him away, they noticed his now
relaxed state and hell broke loose. They shouted at Harry for ruining their ritual and how
they’d need to start all over again, and one of them punched Harry in frustration. Harry
fought back until the other wizard restrained him, and the punching and kicking continued,
until Greg couldn’t take it anymore. He opened the Cloak slightly to get the tip of his wand
pointed at the wizard, and cast a Petrificus Totalus. The wizard fell to the ground, and next
Greg pointed at the other wizard. That one had reacted quickly at seeing his fellow wizard
fall on the ground and grabbed Harry to shield him from other curses. There was no way for
Greg to cast past Harry without harming him.

Greg pulled his wand back inside the Cloak and stepped aside just before the wizard figured
out which direction the curse had come from, and cast blindly that way. Greg decided to use
his invisibility to his advantage and moved quietly towards Harry and the wizard holding him
as a human shield. Just as Greg was getting to a good position for casting a curse towards the
wizard, the man started to yell for help. There wasn’t much more to do but silence the man by
casting a Petrificus Totalus on him as well.

Harry was free, and he jumped at the chance to get a wand from one of the fallen wizards. He
was just about to crawl under the Invisibility Cloak when several people rushed inside and
curses began to fly. Harry fought back, sending curses and spells at the cult members even
though his borrowed wand didn’t work fully with him. Greg cast curses from under the Cloak
– they had decided that he should keep himself hidden no matter what, so the precious
Invisibility Cloak wouldn’t end up in the wrong hands. He hated not being able to fight with
full force because of the Cloak, but he did everything he could to help Harry.
For a while it seemed that they might really make it, their attackers were piling up nicely in a
pile of unconscious bodies, but then a stray curse hit Greg fully on the chest and he fell on the
floor paralyzed. He could see and hear everything that happened around him, but he couldn’t
move a muscle. Harry didn’t last much longer. Greg saw three curses hit him at the same
time, and Harry fell. The last he saw of Harry, was when Harry was carried out of the tent
unconscious.

Greg waited lying on the floor under the Cloak frustrated. He couldn’t see or hear anything
around him; everything was too quiet. At first he thought that someone had cast a Silencio
spell around the tent where he was, and he was getting really worried. What was happening?
Greg tried to fight off the curse by using his own willpower, but it was in vain. He was stuck,
and there was nothing he could do. He cursed inwardly and felt a panic rising in his chest.

Then, abruptly, a hoarse cry pierced the silence – it was Harry! – and the next sound was a
large group of people beginning to chant in unison. When the chanting grew louder, Greg
could hear the chanted words quite clearly:

Samhain on this night your servants call to thee

Samhain on this night your servants come to thee
With tribute most fine, tribute to your lordship
Tribute to strength for we are but brambles in the breeze
Samhain on this night we bid you awaken
On this night we bid you rise

A low drumming was heard all around the camp, and the flickering flames of torches and
campfire grew brighter than ever. Harry screamed again, and this time he received an
answering howl. Howl? What in Salazar’s name was happening here?

Greg didn’t have time to keep wondering about it, as chaos erupted everywhere around him.
People were screaming and running as if trying to escape something horrible coming after
them. He could see large, threatening shadows reflecting on the walls of the tent. Greg was
thinking that this might very well be the end of him once those beasts found their way into
the tent and smelled his terror. Then the door flaps were yanked open and a bright voice said,
“Here he is!” Next thing Greg saw was the face of Luna Lovegood, who smiled brightly at
him.
“Oh, there you are! I knew it was useful to cast a tracking charm on you when you left
Hogwarts today,” she said in a sing-song voice and cast a Finite Incantatem at him. Greg
jumped up at once.

“What’s happening? Where’s Potter?” he asked frantically.

“Calm down, we arrived at the last minute. They were forcing his magic out of him with a
dreadful ritual, but we intervened before any real harm was done. The Auror team has caught
most of the cult members, and Harry has been taken to St. Mungo’s,” Lovegood explained
smiling gently.

“Who’s with him? He needs to be guarded and not left alone at all,” Greg worried.

“The Headmistress, Ron and Hermione are with him, they won’t leave him alone. There’s
only us and the Aurors left here.”

“You came with the Aurors? How did you manage to make them believe?” Greg asked
incredulously.

“No, silly, I came with Hagrid. The Headmistress, Ron and Hermione came with the Aurors,”
Lovegood said airily.

“Hagrid is here too?”

“Yes, of course. How else could we have scared them so badly if not for Hagrid and his
beasts. I even got to ride Buckbeak, when Hagrid rode baby Norbert, although I don’t think
he’s a baby anymore.”

“Baby Norbert?” Greg asked weakly, not believing what he was hearing.
“Yes, Hagrid’s pet dragon, didn’t you know about it? I was introduced to it when I was in the
Forbidden Forest with Hagrid collecting…”

Greg tuned her voice out and strode out of the tent to see what was going on outside.

The campsite was destroyed. The biggest tent, where obviously the ritual had been
performed, was in ashes. There were still several Aurors around, some of them guiding the
prisoners away. As he stood looking at the destruction a huge shadow fell over him, and Greg
glanced up. He instinctively took several steps back as he saw an enormous dragon next to
him, puffing hot air from his nose, and the half-giant gamekeeper of Hogwarts sitting on the
dragon’s back.

“’ello lad, you okay?” Hagrid boomed, and all Greg could muster for a response was a mute
nod.

“Call me if you want a ride back to ‘ogwarts!” Hagrid rumbled and urged his dragon to move
again.

“Greg, everything is fine now. Would you like to ride with me back to Hogwarts? Buckbeak
is really a sweet hippogriff, and it’s wonderful and perfectly safe to fly with him,” Lovegood
said next to him, though Greg hadn’t noticed her arrival.

“Fine, I’d rather ride with you than with bloody Hagrid. He’d kill us both well before
Hogwarts,” Greg huffed and following Lovegood’s lead, climbed up on the hippogriffs back.

*H*G*

Two weeks later Harry Potter was released from St. Mungo’s and returned to Hogwarts.
Immediately a large group of his adoring fans surrounded him, gushing about his kidnapping
and how heroic and strong he had been at enduring the whole thing without giving up.
At hearing that, Greg rolled his eyes, but didn’t even try to get near Harry. He simply didn’t
have the courage because he didn’t know if he was welcome. He followed Harry from afar
for two days, observing him as he had done so many times. Harry seemed to be alright,
although he was even more wary when in large crowds. Once, their eyes locked in the Great
Hall during dinner, and neither of them turned their eyes away, until Granger dragged Harry’s
attention to something she said. Their eyes didn’t meet anymore during that dinner. Greg was
disappointed, and his stomach churned in desperation. He had hoped so much, but it seemed
that he was nothing to Potter anymore, now that he was free again.

Greg started a habit of wandering around the Black Lake alone on a daily basis. He found it
relaxing and calming him when he walked in silence, and his thoughts were always on Harry.
He didn’t know what to think of Harry and their one night together, now that it was all over
and everything was back to normal. Or was it?

He more felt than heard footsteps behind him, adopting the same pace with him when they
reached him. Greg glanced to his side, and to his surprise, saw Harry walking next to him.

“Hey,” Harry greeted him looking shy, and a small smile grazed his lips.

“Hey,” Greg replied. “Where did you leave your fan club?”

“I escaped,” Harry grinned. “Thanks for sending my Cloak back, it has been a precious help
for me these days.”

“No problem. I gave it to Lovegood to take care of it. She promised to return it to you.”

“Yeah, she did. I was a little disappointed that you didn’t bring it back yourself, Greg. Have
you been avoiding me?” Harry asked frowning.

Greg definitely avoided his eyes right now, and instead of answering the question, he asked a
question of his own.
“Tell me, Harry, what really happened in that ritual? I didn’t hear much more than your
screaming and that crowd chanting. What did they do to you?”

Harry glanced at him warily. “You really want to know?”

Greg nodded, “I was there and heard it. I want to know what happened.”

“Fine. I woke up tied up on the stone altar where I had been tortured so many times before.
They were furious at me for getting rid of my arousal, and so they did it again, this time with
a stronger spell and a stronger potion. It was hell… it was as if someone was crawling inside
my skin, trying to get out through my skin. My blood was boiling in my veins and my cock
and balls were about to explode. But they did it too quickly. There wasn’t the same power
and strong enough magic behind my reaction than there was before. So when they began
chanting, there appeared an aura or some sort of magical halo around me. I guess it came
from my pent up magic and arousal.” Harry glanced at Greg a little worriedly, but Greg
nodded at him, urging him to continue.

“When the aura was bright and strong enough, all the fire around the altar started burning
brighter and the flames grew bigger, and then it appeared, the Samhain they were calling to.
First I didn’t see it well enough, it was like a shapeless Dementor or something, but then it
started to gain a shape of…a young woman. It was my mother, Lily Potter. She beckoned to
me, wanting me to follow her, but I couldn’t… She pulled my aura towards her, as if she tried
to inhale it into herself, but something stopped her. I felt an awful pain in my chest when she
screamed in rage, released my aura and vanished. I guess it was at the same time the Aurors
arrived, but I don’t know if she disappeared because of them or if it was it because I couldn’t
follow her.”

Harry sniffed, telling this wasn’t easy for him. The creature taking his mother’s form was
obviously a painful experience for him. Greg wrapped his hand around Harry’s shoulders and
squeezed reassuringly.

“I talked about it with McGonagall, and she thought that my magic wasn’t strong enough to
make her embodiment complete. She said that it wasn’t really my mother, they just used her
to get me to stop fighting against the ritual,” Harry finished his story, clearly relieved that it
was all out in the open now.
“I’m so sorry, Harry… umm, as for your earlier question, I didn’t come and bring your Cloak
back myself, because I didn’t know if you wanted to see me anymore,” Greg admitted.

“Why wouldn’t I want to see you? You saved me, remember?”

“Yeah, but still… Gryffindors and Slytherins aren’t on the best of terms with each other so I
didn’t want to make things more difficult for you.”

“Cut the crap. I want to get to know you better. You let me see a new side of you there at the
camp, and I’d like to see more of it. I like you, Greg, and I hope we could be friends at least,
maybe even more someday. What do you say?”

Greg stopped walking and turned to look at Harry.

“I don’t’ know, Harry. It won’t be easy for us to be friends. But… if friends are allowed to do
something like this, among other things, maybe then…” Greg took Harry’s face between his
palms and leaned in to kiss him. “Maybe then I could be convinced about the bright side of
friendship between us.”

Harry grinned and pulled him into another kiss.

“I could definitely live with that.”

The End
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