Gregory Goyle was a misunderstood man. He was seen as brutish and dumb, mostly because he was big and clumsy; Draco Malfoy always insulted his intelligence and that of his best friend, Vincent Crabbe. But this image wasn't fact, it was merely an assumption. Gregory liked to fly under the radar, let people think poorly of him, and then secretly fight for the good in life. He'd proven it in a few classes already. And tonight, he secretly proved it yet again when Draco thought he was too dumb to know the difference.

Draco had told all the Slytherins to stay out of the boy's dormitory because he and Pansy Parkinson had 'things to discuss.' Gregory knew they had other plans, even if no one else seemed to notice the pattern. Draco had been seeing Pansy for some time, if one could call it that. She was more of a convenient fuck to the blond Death Eater wannabe. She'd fawn over him and be at his beck and call while he merely ignored her, treated her like he treated everyone else… like dirt. And he fostered his charade by only showing her any affection when he wanted something from her. Goyle knew that Draco wanted some action tonight, especially since Harry Potter had shown Malfoy up yet again in the hallways. Draco always wanted to stroke his ego (and a little something else) after a loss and typically did so by using Pansy. So, Goyle had done like he usually did when Draco ordered them out: he went to go mess with the younger students.

An hour was spent playing jokes on them and making them think he liked them, just before he got them again. It always worked since he was in the inner circle of the most popular Slytherin and the younger kids wanted to be in the good graces of someone closely connected to Draco Malfoy. Sometimes it made Goyle sick seeing how Draco treated people, but it wasn't his place to call him on it. After all, Goyle was a follower; he left the leading to self-satisfied sociopaths like Draco and his father. When Goyle grew tired of this little game, he decided to go to the common room and brush up on his Wizard Chess. The school tournament was coming up, and Goyle wanted to have a chance at showing up that disgusting Weasley kid who always won. Much to Goyle's shock, when he entered the Common Room his ears were assaulted by the sound of someone crying. This made Goyle curious, Slytherins didn't cry at the drop of a wand. So if someone was crying, then it must have been quite awful, "H-hello?"

It had been proclaimed at birth that Pansy Parkinson would marry the Malfoy heir. She had been groomed for it; while other girls were out shopping or playing Quidditch, Pansy was learning feminine charms and social graces. It seemed to work like magic for Draco Malfoy wanted her; at least, he had until she'd given him her virginity. That day had been a chilly one, especially for November of her fifth year. The leaves were turning, Christmas was around the corner and she and Draco were generating enough body heat to warm the entirety of Hogwarts. Snogging was something that they both enjoyed very much, it made Pansy feel wanted and needed...the only logical step was to finish what she had started.

And it had ruined everything. Once Draco got what he wanted from her, he tossed her aside and moved onto new girls until he got bored and went back to her. A vicious cycle, it was; he would proclaim his 'feelings' to her, make love to her long into the night but then before the bed was even cold, he would be out flirting with other girls. The man had no pride, no shame! But Pansy hadn't thought it could ever be this bad...

He had, as usual, asked all the Slytherin boys to clear out so he could screw her in silence. She couldn't say for sure what possessed her to go along with it, after a million promises she had made to stop being his whore. But this night was different...instead of screwing her and leaving, he slapped her when she spoke out against the way he treated her. One thing Pansy had been taught was that no man, not even the Malfoy heir, could touch her like that...but he continued to berate her and express his fervent disgust with her before telling her, in no simple terms, that he loathed her very being and hoped she died before he stormed out to find his newest whore.

Now, she sat huddled in the corner of the Slytherin common room, convulsing with seven years worth of tears. Who would be up to hear her, anyway? Surely she couldn't cry in front of her roommates or risk going out after curfew. And so, she settled for a tiny corner of the common room, shrouded in shadows and cobwebs, to let the pain free.

Goyle received no answer to his inquiry. The person obviously hadn't heard him; he had been rather quiet in announcing his presence. Goyle quietly followed the sound of crying and noticed now, that it sounded an awful lot like a girl. That meant one of the boys had obviously followed the three F's that Draco always went on about: find them, fuck them, and forget them. Only this time, instead of a girl being pleased to be the latest conquest of one of the Slytherin boys, they had been hurt. This meant someone had been truly in love, or thought they were, only to be cast aside and have their heart stomped on. Goyle couldn't sympathize; he was the only Slytherin boy besides Crabbe to have never gotten with any of the girls. After all, they were both seen as dumb and brutish, and were not worthy of bedding one of the girls when they could potentially snag Malfoy or one of the more...appealing, boys. When Goyle finally reached the corner where the crying was coming from, he noticed the figure curled up, shaking with their sobs. His heart went out to whoever it was. After all, he might be on the not-quite-good side, but he didn't have to be a right prat about it. As long as Malfoy or none of the other boys found out, he'd be fine. Goyle spoke up again, this time slightly louder. "Hello? Are you alright?"

Sniffling loudly, Pansy wrapped her arms around her waist, "Oh Goyle, just go away." Her chest heaved with another sob and she drew her arms tighter around herself. "I'm not in the mood for your antics or your jeers tonight." Gregory Goyle was the last person she expected to see up tonight; surely he would know that the 'danger' time had passed and that he would be able to return to his bed to find Pansy across the way in Draco's bed, all alone and shivering while she finished dressing and was sent on her merry way. Why, then, was he up and sounding almost concerned over the girl sobbing in the corner...had the stupid oaf actually gained a conscience? She wasn't counting on it.

Goyle was taken a bit back by the fact that this crying girl was in fact none other than Pansy Parkinson. Had Draco finally pushed her too far? He hoped so. He didn't want to see her heartbroken or anything, and she definitely didn't deserve this but, he thought, that Pansy should have someone better than Draco. Someone who would treat her right, not bed her and then find another girl. Maybe if she had finally been pushed too far she would see what Goyle and the others had been forced to see for so long but never able to talk about for fear of incurring the wrath of the Malfoy heir. And she thought that he was going to be an arse to her? He couldn't fault her for that assumption, really; it was the modus operandi of Draco and his inner circle. Gregory couldn't stand it though, that she would think he would be like that to her, when she was part of the female portion of the inner circle, she should have known it was all a ruse. "I'm not going to be an arse Pansy. I just heard you crying." Worry creased his brow. "Are you alright? What did Draco do to you to finally make you break down?"

In the past, Pansy had barely heard Goyle say anything other than a few unintelligible sentences followed by some drooling and then beating of younger kids. To hear him speak so eloquently and with such concern made her wonder at what else he was hiding beneath that stony exterior. Wiping her face, she looked down at her small, pale hands, "I don't want to talk about Draco and me," She said, her voice was nothing but a painful whisper, "There is not and will never be Draco and me. He doesn't want me, he thinks I'm rubbish and I'll never be his wife." Her raven locks fell over her startlingly blue eyes that were rimmed in red, "But this probably makes you happy, huh? That Draco Malfoy, your very best friend, hurt someone the way you like to hurt people!" She was lashing out at him...why? Because he was there and she could; it didn't make it right or fair, but it certainly made the ache in her heart feel less gaping.

Goyle was used to a verbal lashing. Draco gave them often enough that he tended to shrug it off like nothing had happened. After all, if it could be said, Draco probably had said it already. But he wasn't about to let her push him away, he was genuinely concerned for her and wanted to make sure she was alright. She was part of the inner circle and that meant she should be taken care of (and not in the way Draco usually meant when he wanted someone taken care of).

Instead of moving away like Pansy had probably been trying to make him do, Gregory Goyle dropped down into a crouch and leaned forward a little, trying to make her turn her eyes away from her hands and toward him. He was going to set the record straight, right here, right now. "Look at me Pansy!" His voice was very commanding, a drastic change form the usual follower tone of meekness he showed toward Draco. "Am I glad he did whatever he did to you? In a way, yes, I'm glad he finally pushed you hard enough so that see he never wanted you for more than a quick fuck after Harry Potter put him in his place. You deserve a lot better than Malfoy could ever give you. After the waiting you've done for him, and all the pining away for him while he screwed around. I'm glad you finally see what the rest of us saw since second year! Hopefully you'll learn from this and won't go back to him. He can be a right prat when he wants to be." It was then, in the dim firelight, that Goyle saw what looked like a red mark on her face. Shockingly, it made his blood boil. "Did...did he hit you?"

Shock coursed through Pansy's entire being as the bigger boy leaned down and grasped her face so gently it was like...well, she didn't even know what to compare it to. No one had ever been so gentle with her, not even when Draco was still courting her. His convictions made her lock eyes with him and not look away even as he spoke of her learning from her mistakes and not going back to Malfoy again. With a soft nod, she sniffled again, "Never, never again." She made a solemn vow this time: Draco Malfoy would never darken her doorstep (or her bed) again. There was one big problem with that...and for now, she held the secret deep inside of her. Goyle's ire spilled out, seeming to fill the entire room with it as he touched the swelling mark on her face, "Oh, it's nothing I...I was being clumsy. It's nothing," She said quickly, pulling away from his touch. He was too close; it was too much at once.

Goyle could tell when someone was lying to him. When you hung out constantly with Draco Malfoy, you learned how to tell when you were being deceived. She was trying to cover for him. The red mark was in the very definite shape of a hand, and unless she had a hand shaped desk that she fell on or the castle walls had started sprouting arms and slapping people, Draco had hit her. Goyle was brought up from birth to be a loyal follower; his family had long ago devoted themselves to serving the Dark Lord. But all his life he had been taught that women were sacred creatures, you never hit them. It was bad luck to hit women; after all, why waste your time hitting the bearer of your heirs when you could use it to destroy the lives of mudbloods? Goyle's voice was dangerously low; he wanted her to understand lying to him was a bad thing. "Don't cover up for him. I can tell you're lying. Did. He. Hit. You?"

"Goyle, please," She whispered plaintively and grasped his shoulders. "Why do you insist on asking questions you already know the answer to?" Pansy looked so tired, so very small next to him, and she felt every bit as small as she looked. Holding onto him tighter she shook her head, "Don't do anything, please, I can't stand it. Don't, Goyle."

Goyle had been halfway to standing, intent on marching up to wherever it was Draco was hiding out and beating the smaller boy to a pulp. Even if Draco was busy with another girl, he had every intention of making him see his opinion on hitting girls… in a very forceful manner, too. Instead, Pansy had placed her hands on his shoulders and begged him to not do anything. Why? Why, after all this, was she still defending Draco? He couldn't wrap his mind around it. "Why shouldn't I do something about it? He thinks he's mister high and mighty, holier-than-thou. It's about time someone put him in his place. Maybe then he'd learn it's not a good idea to push others around so much…they might just fight back once in a while."

Pansy didn't loosen her grip on him even after Goyle had stopped moving; she didn't trust herself to stay poised like she was now. Looking into his eyes, she bit her lip before she spoke, "Goyle..." She swallowed, and then shook her head, "Gregory, I don't want you to provoke him. I just want this to go away, to die and to never come back." No one would ever forget this, especially if Goyle got involved...and she needed to lay low for a while. "Gregory, I'm frightened," She dissolved into a fresh set of tears, pressing her face into his meaty shoulder, "I don't know what to do."

Goyle was a little lost. No one had ever shown anything but fear or disdain for him. And yet, here Pansy was crying into his shoulder. He looked lost on all accounts, but finally he slowly wrapped his arms around her shaking body and tried as best as he could to comfort her. He was certain he was doing a piss poor job of it, after all he was usually the one making people hurt and cry, not the one picking up the pieces. "Fine, Pansy. I won't do anything to him." Then he words finally sunk in; she was scared...and didn't know what to do...this was definitely not the Pansy he was used to. "I don't understand Pansy. Did he threaten you? What's going on? Why are you scared? And what don't you know what to do about?" He realized he was being uncharacteristic of himself and was probably confusing her. "I...I just want to be your friend Pansy. You look like you could use one right about now."

Certainly, Pansy was slightly confused about Goyle's sudden streak of kindness...but she didn't dwell on it for long, she had her own problems to deal with. A major factor here being that she was suddenly two weeks late for her monthly bleeding; sure, her mother had taught her the correct charms and her she'd been taking the birth-control potion for nearly four years now but something had gone wrong. More than once, she had noticed that her potion had been different tasting and the charms she'd learned weren't known for their dependability. Clinging onto him, she shook her head, "This isn't about Draco so much as me." Maybe it was selfish...but then, it had always been about her at the Parkinson house. She was the heiress, their last hope for an alliance with the Malfoys, "Gregory, I can't be sure but I think...I think I'm with child."

Goyle felt like he'd been slapped in the face. Draco had possibly gotten Pansy pregnant? Did the bastard know? Was that why he hit her and made her cry? If that was the case, Draco was going to be a bloody pulp at the bottom of the stairs; maybe Goyle would wrap him up as a present and send the remains to Potter to finish off. That should please the Gryffindor boy, and it would satisfy Goyle's urge to break Draco's neck. "Y-You might be pregnant? Are you sure? I-I thought there were charms or potions you could take to prevent that. Did you tell Draco? Is this why he hit you?"

"No," She said quickly, "He doesn't know, I didn't tell him." She swallowed hard, "I can't tell him." Pressing her hands to her thin belly, she closed her eyes, "I've been preoccupied and I don't know what's wrong with my potion; it's been coming out a little dark and you know how easy it is to botch them!" It was slightly awkward talking to him about this, especially since he was a boy in her year and they had grown up together here at Hogwarts. "And we all know that the charms aren't always effective." Pulling away from him slightly, she ran her fingers through her dark hair, "What am I going to do?"

If Goyle was lost before, he was in an uncharted alternate universe now. She was asking him for advice? He didn't do advice...after all, he the dumb brute. No one wanted to ask him for anything other than to beat someone up for them. "I don't know Pansy. I mean, come on...I'm Gregory Goyle, I'm not exactly on the must shag list for Slytherin House. I've never been in this position. Do you know for certain you're pregnant? We could go to Madam Pomfrey, she'd know how to find out...and she could give you better advice than I can." Goyle ran a hand over his short hair and scratched his chin, as he thought about what to say next. "If you are pregnant...are you going to keep it?"

He was right; damn it all. He was Gregory Goyle, what did he know about unwed pregnant pureblooded witches...beyond the fact that they were exiled or locked up in a closet until they gave birth and the child was passed off as a cousin or a niece, or they quickly married the father and never spoke of it again? But Pansy wasn't keen on either of those options; she wouldn't want to spend nine months bloating with Draco bloody Malfoy's baby just to have the child ripped from her and her reputation tarnished forever. And she certainly wouldn't marry him, "I don't know for sure, yet." She confessed, sighing heavily, "I've been too afraid to see Madame Pomfrey or to go to St. Mungo's...and there don't seem to be any charms in our textbooks I could use." Staring down at the cold stone floor beneath her, she absently ran a hand over the place where her child might be growing. "This is one bloody awful mess."

Gregory Goyle was at a crossroads. He could be Malfoy's little servant, as was expected of him and leave her to her devices, saying she deserved it for getting involved with Draco in the first place. Or, he could show everyone they were wrong about him and be a friend to Pansy. That option had a lot of dangers attached though and by choosing it he'd also be declaring he was more loyal to Pansy than to Draco which would only serve to set Draco off and possibly earn him a hexing. But now that he thought about it, Draco deserved to have his world of comfort destroyed for this. He deserved to know that he couldn't count on Goyle to always be there to help him out, not with the way he treated Goyle and the others. They weren't his house elves. The decision made, Goyle looked at Pansy firmly and placed his hand on her shoulder. "If you're scared to go by yourself, then I'll go with you Pansy. You shouldn't have to go through something like this alone, and its high time Draco learned a lesson about loyalty."

Of all the things Pansy expected Goyle to do...this wasn't even on the list. "You mean," She let out a breath she hadn't known she was holding, "You're going to march up to the hospital wing with me and sit through Madame Pomfrey's longwinded speech about abstinence and hold my hand while we find out if I'm carrying the Malfoy heir?" It was suddenly almost funny...why would he do that? What did he have to gain from it? "And what if it's true, then? People assume things, Gregory," She met his eyes, "And that's not fair to you." Even if she did want him to do with her—and that wasn't to say she did (although, it might be nice to have someone there)—people gossiped and talked. There was as much danger in being pregnant as gaining the reputation that went along with unwed pregnancies. It was all going to be trouble...

Gregory contemplated everything she said for a moment. She made sense, people would undoubtedly hear that he had taken her to the Hospital Wing and they would talk. If she was pregnant they'd assume he was the father and rumors would fly. Malfoy would demand to know if Goyle had been sleeping with Pansy behind his back, as if he never cheated on her, and it would cause a mess of trouble. But all things considered, he was already involved in this, and if going further with it put Draco's knickers in a bunch, then Goyle felt it was worth it. "You're only partly right, Pansy. If you won't go, I'll pick you up and carry you there kicking and screaming if I have to. You need a friend to push you enough to do what needs to be done before it's too late and if I have to be that friend then so be it." He made a motion like rolling up his sleeves for a fight and grinned at her in his dumb way. "And dash the rumors and what people think. They want to spread rumors and lies about you and me? Let's see how well they can do it with my fist lodged down their throat."

"You would do that for me?" Pansy asked, startled, "But why, Goyle?" It made no sense that he would want to protect her like this. They'd known each other for a long time, yes, but she'd never counted Goyle among her friends. Certainly, he was a valuable ally, but never a friend. But tonight, he was being more than a friend...he was going beyond the normal duties that such an acquaintance would have; he was willing to suffer for her and with her because of her stupid mistakes. Resting her head against the wall, she found herself smiling back at him despite the emptiness inside of her, "You won't need to carry me." She tried to use her snide tone of voice, but she just came out sounding tired. "I trust you," She said quietly, "And I trust that all will be well." His strength was what she needed to find her own...now, if she could only find the strength to stand up.

Goyle smiled at Pansy. "Why? Because you need a friend, and I'm tired of hiding in the shadows and letting everyone think I'm a dunderhead while Draco gets all the credit. If I hadn't been there to back him up, he'd have gotten his arse kicked a dozen times over." Goyle stood up and looked down at her from where he was. "Besides, someone's got to help you and I don't see anyone else here. Come on, the first step is to stand up. Then we'll take it from there."

Pansy wouldn't lie about it, she truly did think of Gregory Goyle as a dumb brute. He wasn't exactly handsome or bright or...well, amiable, but she had always noticed something different about him. Before, she had thought it was just chronic halitosis, but now she knew the truth. Beneath that large, clumsy exterior was a heart of gold. With a little help...okay, a lot of help, from Goyle, Pansy managed to stand up. She was still rattled from her evening with Draco, "I suppose if we want to avoid everyone, we better go now." She swallowed, fear gnawing at the pit of her stomach. She didn't want to know...but she had to know, sooner rather than later. "Come, let's go."

Goyle waited until Pansy was on her feet before he moved back to let her get out of the corner. At her urging, he followed her to the portrait hole and through it. He looked around quickly to make sure no one was wandering the dark halls of the dungeon before motioning that it was safe to move out into them. He wasn't worried about other students seeing them, he could handle that. It was teachers he was worried about; they'd cause more trouble than the students. Only Madame Pomfrey needed to know what was going on. "Alright, quickest way to the hospital wing is through the south corridor, up the southeast stairs and then once we get to the floor with the wing on it, take the east corridor. That will put us right outside the door." He knew the route very well; he had to after the numerous injuries he had sustained over the years.

Pansy had only been to the hospital wing once, and that was to visit poor Millicent who had broken her hand on one of the fourth year's faces. Goyle, though, seemed to know exactly where they were going and how to get there without being caught. She followed as quickly as she could, keeping silent as they made their way through the twisting halls. Finally, the hospital wing was in sight...and Pansy never felt more afraid in her life. Biting her lip, she looked over at Goyle, "I...thank you, Goyle. This means more to me than you'll ever know," And she meant it with her whole heart. Apprehensively, she closed the distance between them, wrapping her arms around Goyle's barrel chest. She didn't hug boys; that wasn't in the Parkinson code of conduct. But at the moment, she really just needed someone's arms around her. And Goyle was that someone.

Goyle wrapped his arms around her slender waist and held onto her for as long as she needed. He took a moment to reflect on how it all happened, how he went from being Gregory Goyle the big, dumb bully, to Gregory Goyle, the guy to turn to. It as odd, but in the end he felt it would be for the best. He pulled back after a moment and took her hand in his, squeezing for comfort. "Come on. Let's get this over with." He turned to the door marked 'Madam Pomfrey, Mediwitch', and lifted one meaty hand to it. He knocked and then looked over at Pansy. Whatever happened in there, he was certain of one thing. Nothing would ever be the same again.

Welcome to Power of Love! For those fans who came with us over from The Long Way Home, we welcome you back! And for those new fans, hi! We are Marina Black and James Brummett and we write fics together. This particular piece was quite a trip, it's going to be a wild ride, my friends!

So, thanks for reading! Drop a review if you please,

Love,

James & Marina