Chapter 6

Hello readers! Yes, this is a short chapter, but explains the relationship between Greg and Millie from Gregs point of view.

Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling is the goddess who owns Harry Potter…. not me.

Greg returned to his room after patrolling with Draco. Sometimes Greg wished he was a prefect, but in the end was thankful he didn't make the cut. It was a bit maddening to patrol the halls, catching idiotic students doing dumb things, and having to get glares from Filch. Poor Mrs. Norris had finally kicked the bucket but Filch had gotten a replacement. Mr. Norris was just as bad as the Mrs had been.

It felt good to know that Hermione was checking him out all this time, but it brought up a lot of feelings as well. Greg had never dated anyone. He had tried to become serious with Millie, but she refused. Greg couldn't help but remember that time. Greg pulled a letter Millie had written him before she died from his bedside table and began thinking back to the previous year.

Greg's flashback:

The Slytherin common room was alive with loud lights and music. It looked more like a Christmas-themed night club than a common room. Even the Carrows couldn't stop the Christmas cheer, at least not in the favored Slytherin House. Headmaster Snape seemed to stop caring about Slytherin, so the house had gotten away with anything and everything.

Greg walked through the loud, blaring makeshift dancefloor towards the couches. A couple of girls had been following Greg and Vince around. Greg paid them no mind, he was only looking for one girl, Millicent Bullstrode. He saw Millie sitting on the couch in a bright long sleeved red dress which showed off her ample bust, complimented her skin tone and dark hair. To Greg, she looked beautiful.

"Aren't you supposed to be fending off Greengrass?" Millie asked, when Greg approached her. Draco had thrown this huge Christmas party, but was not attending. No one could find him or Blaise. "She's getting closer, you know, to figuring it out."

"Can we speak in private?" Greg asked, as Millie rolled her eyes and knocked back another shot of firewhiskey.

"You know Crabbe and Theo aren't as quiet as you," Millie laughed, following Greg into the boy's dormitory and sitting on Greg's bed. "They lie, but you should have seen the bruises Vince gave Pansy this past weekend. Just for Draco's location."

Greg's jaw hardened and he shook his head. Fucking Vince, Greg thought. Greg knew Vince had always hated Pansy. In fourth year, Vince had worked up the courage to ask Pansy to the Yule Ball, Pansy rejected him in the cruelest way possible. When Vince asked, Pansy told him she would think about it, only to reject him publicly later. Pansy made cracks about how Vince was of a lesser, canine-like intelligence. Draco had gotten a big kick out of it, but now Vince had a reason to take his hatred out on Pansy.

"That's why she's not hounding you right now," Millie explained. "Doesn't want anyone to see, especially you. Knows you'd kick Vince's arse. I don't think she'd tell Lucius if she knew, do you?"

"I don't want to talk about Daphne or Pansy right now," Greg said, a bit sternly. "I sure as fuck don't want to talk about Vince. I'll deal with him later."

Millie gave Greg a blank stare, before looking away. Here it comes, she thought.

"I want to talk about us," Greg said. "Be my girlfriend. To hell with the rest of them." Greg could hear Millie's annoyed sigh. "I want you," Greg sat down next to Millie. "Just you."

Millie didn't react and she wouldn't look at him. There were a few tears brimming in her eyes, but she would not let them fall. Millie wished the Dungeons weren't a basement so she could look out the window and distract herself. Millie wanted somewhere to focus her attention, anywhere but Greg.

"It's getting crazy out there, but it's our fathers war. Not ours," Greg tried to explain. "And sometimes I just…I dream of running away. Grab my mother and just go somewhere." Greg sighed. "But when I think about running away, I can't picture a future without you in it."

"Sometimes I really wish I didn't," Millie began, voice shaking. "Come find you that night. I told you I just need a friend. Just fuck me when I ask you to and forget the rest." Millie went to stand, but Greg grabbed her hand.

"You're just scared, Millie," said Greg. "Of what? I don't know, but I wish you'd tell me."

Greg released her hand and Millie walked away. Greg felt empty and Millicent was exhausted.

….

Over the Christmas Holiday, Greg had written Millie three letters. None of which she responded to. Greg had taken his mother and moved out of Goyle Manor. They had taken shelter with Blaise and his mother. Greg had refused to take the Dark Mark no matter what his father had threatened to do. Voldemort had claimed that because Goyle Senior could not keep his household in order to control his son and wife to become followers. Voldemort felt he did not need weakness and disappointment in his ranks and killed Goyle Senior. The villain had made an example out of Goyle's father.

When the holiday was over, some students did not return. Millie was one of them. After two months without Millie, Greg wrote her one final letter. It was long and heartfelt, begging Millie to confide in him, to let him love her and take care of her. Greg asked Millie to meet him anywhere. Greg was staring out the window of a third floor classroom, waiting when he'd heard a soft, feminine voice, "What do I have to do to get a letter like this?"

Greg turned to see Daphne holding up the letter he had written to Millie. The only time Greg couldn't hate Daphne was when she went down on him or when they had sex. Any other time, Greg couldn't stand the sight of her. He wasn't cruel to Daphne, just preferred not to be in the presence of the uptight blonde girl. Since they hadn't been physical in a long time, there was no reason to be around each other.

"Where did you get that?" Greg asked, brokenheartedly. Greg took the note from Daphne's hand and walked back to the window. It was clearly opened.

"It appeared on your bed. Don't know how," Daphne smiled at Greg's frown. "Just be happy I found it and not Pansy. Pansy would have scratched your girlfriends' eyes out…if Bullstrode were still here. I think Pansy wants you all to herself." Daphne walked towards Greg.

"Let me guess," Daphne whispered, in Greg's ear. "Pansy hardly ever asks about Draco when she comes to you, does she?"

"Do you know where Millie is?" Greg asked, in a very no-nonsense tone. Greg wanted to ask how Daphne had gotten into the boys' dormitories but didn't really care.

"But you've stopped fucking Pansy, haven't you?" Daphne said, eyebrow arched. "Does it not work anymore?" The blonde girl pointed to Greg's crotch.

"I don't want to make someone think I care about them," Greg said, in an ice-cold tone. "when I don't."

"You can't forgive me, can you?" Daphne said, solemnly. "It wasn't personal. If Draco had just…never mind…" Daphne paused, swallowing hard. By this time, Daphne had figured it out. The blonde noticed that when Draco disappeared so did Blaise. Unlike Pansy, Daphne could put two and two together. Or maybe, unlike Pansy, Daphne just wasn't in denial.

Greg had walked off to the Great Hall for lunch when his owl had delivered a letter from Millicent.

Dear Greg,

I've been such a coward. I couldn't bring myself to read any of your letters. I would say I was sorry to hear about your dad, but I know you are relieved. You were right when you said that this isn't our war, it's our fathers. We all just want it to be over with, but its too late for me.

Before Christmas I took the Dark Mark to protect my father. That's why I couldn't align myself with you. If I were a so-called disappointment like you, they would have killed him. I couldn't let that happen. You've always been stronger than me.

It's so unfortunate that being in Slytherin automatically gives you daddy issues. We're all just the product of a fucked-up ideology that's led to inbreeding and hatred. You-Know-Who is not going to win. Potter's getting closer to defeating him.

I know I'm not going to survive this war. If my father doesn't kill me, then You-Know-Who will. I'm already terrible at being a follower.

If things were different, if we lived in a different time, a different place, or whatever, I would have run away with you. I love you. I have for a while now, but I knew I couldn't commit to you. Not without putting you in danger.

If I do survive and if you'll still have me, I'll find you.

Love,

Millie.

Present:

Greg folded the letter and put it back in his desk. The letter was beginning to rip in places, from being read so many times. There were places where the letters had blurred from tears. Millie was right: You Know Who lost, and Potter won. She was right about something else too. Millie was killed by her father. After Voldemort had made his "Harry Potter is dead" speech, and Potter had jumped out of Hagrid's arms proving he was still alive, Millie had tried to run and Bullstrode had killed her. It was all so ironic to Greg.

Greg had the summer to cope with losing both Vince and Millie. He had gone through a terrible depression, until Hermione had approached him, until Hermione agreed to tutor him. They'd become close now.

It's not that Greg had forgotten Millie; Millie would always be his first love. It's that now Greg was falling in love with Hermione. He knew Hermione wanted him physically. Greg just hoped that Hermione was falling in love him as well.