The curtains on his windows were deep green, the color of forest foliage. He was in the habit of keeping them closed tightly. Gregory liked it dark. It let him sleep in and helped soothe him. It was in the dark that it happened. A hard pounding came at his door, his father screaming at him to come down for the meeting. Greg refused. He wanted to be alone in the dark and try to make his pain go away. His father had told him that he was to receive the Dark Mark that night.
The pounding on the oak door got increasingly louder. Greg refused to open it. It began creaking on its hinges as his father continued to force his way in. Greg lay on his bed, the curtains closed; the room dark and cold. The door suddenly flew open, light flooding the room and his father's bulky shape filling the door frame.
"Get up, Gregory Alan Goyle. Come and join our guests," his father demanded, "Tonight is the night that the Dark Lord will mark you. You mustn't keep him waiting." Gregory only shook his head, avoiding his father's menacing eyes. "I said get up you fat, lazy son of a bitch!" His father advanced on him.
Greg remained still, lost in thoughts of his friends. He didn't know that his father had anything in his hand until he felt the first blow. The pain lashed across his face like a fiery blister. He raised his hand to the wound, noticing the blood on his fingertips when he drew them in front of his eyes.
"Whadjudothafo?" Greg mumbled. He knew what his father was yielding at that moment. It was a long piece of gold chain that bore the family chest. Gregory had taken it off earlier that day and left it on his nightstand, right next to the journal where he kept his deepest thoughts. Thoughts about receiving the Dark Lord's mark, thoughts about his family, thoughts about Vincent.
His eyes darted frantically to the table only to see the journal open, open to the page where he had poured out his feelings about Vince. His father had read his journal. He felt another lash from the chain, this one tearing his shirt. "You good for nothing piece of shit! You read my bloody journal!" Greg screamed at his father. The elder Goyle turned and kicked the door shut, locking the three bolts.
How dare you speak to me in that tone, you little faggot! Has Vince screwed you up the arse yet? Well your boyfriend isn't here to save you now, is he?" Gavin Goyle sneered coldly at his son.
"He's not my boyfriend! Why don't you leave me alone! I'm not taking the Dark Mark either," Greg told his father. Gavin wrapped his thick hands around his son's neck, forcing Greg onto his back on the bed.
"I'm going to teach you not to speak to me like that ever again." With a wave of his wand a bottle of clear liquid appeared on the nightstand. His father seized it, tearing off Gregory's shirt. "Paralyzus!"
Greg's arms flew above his hea and he found himself unable to move on his own free will. "Father? What are you doing?" Greg asked with a slight fear in his voice.
"Shut up!" The older man twisted off the cap and poured the contents onto Greg's wounds. Greg felt as though his body was on fire. He screamed out in pain and still unable to move. The liquid that had originally appeared to be a healing salve was quickly proven to be something else. Greg could feel the liquid fire as it burned into his skin, peeling back the torn layers. His father laughed as Greg tried to turn his face away from the searing pain.
"Why father? Why?" Greg choked out.
His father laughed manically as he replied, "To mark you. If you do not want the Dark Mark than you shall have my mark. No one will want you now. Not a woman and certainly not a man."
"Fuck you!" Greg cried out before he could stop himself. His father quit laughing and got an inch from his face.
"So that IS what you want, Gregory? I can do that..."
Gregory sat up in his bed, safe and awake in his dorm room at Hogwarts, tears flowing down his face. It was only a dream. He was safe now, out of the reach of his sinister father. He looked around the dorm; Draco and Vincent were cuddled up together on Draco's bed, Theo Nott slept on in his four-poster bed but the last bed was empty. Where was...
"Zabini?" Greg squinted in the darkness as a figure sat on his bed. He sat up nervously, a comforting hand on his shoulder.
"It's just me, mate. You ok? You were talking in your sleep," Blaise Zabini said, handing Greg a glass of water. Greg took it thankfully.
"Fine. I'm fine, " Greg replied. He was shaking like mad and sweat covered his skin.
"I'm going to get Snape," Zabini said, getting up from the bed. Greg grabbed his arm and pulled him back down.
"I'm fine. Go back to bed," he whispered. Zabini looked at Goyle with slight concern but decided to leave him alone. Once Blaise was back asleep, Greg climbed out of bed and treaded quietly down to the common room. He was unaware, however, that he was not alone.
