Disclaimer: I got nothing, folks.
Warnings: I probably wrote this weird. I can't ever come to peace with Crabbe and Goyle being idiots because they are big, I dunno, so I just made them quiet and introspective in their own way. I probably didn't do Goyle justice in any way here, but let me know what you think! Also, I can't decide if I like switching POV's for some bits, or if the inconsistency is irritating me. Ah well. Enjoy, its a short, but sweet one!
Greg was walking down into the dungeons, looking for Draco. Pansy and Millie had that wild look in their eyes, demanding he eat, and that Greg must fetch him at once, and also Greg was charged with informing Draco for the last time, that coffee is not a food. He entered the common room, pausing to make sure Draco wasn't sprawled on any of the couches. Draco had been weird, and mutinous this year, and Blaise had been nervous, and Theo had been twitchy, and Vince had been quiet, but Greg tried not to let things get to him. Not the burning in his arm, not his parents, who hadn't even wanted him, and certainly not school. But sometimes he felt like his real family was here, with Vince, and Blaise, and Theo, and especially Draco. Draco was strong, but he was also really emotional, and really brilliant, but really crazy, and he did everything too much or too little. He never ate or slept enough, he was always strung out and exhausted from pushing it with his magic, and he was taking this all like it was all his fault. But wars aren't teenagers fault. Not that Draco would ever listen to Greg about something like this.
Greg froze when he heard a low, guttural scream of pain and rage. He sprinted towards the door to their dorm, nearly knocking over Tiny Baddock (well that what Draco called him, everyone else called him Malcolm).
"Get Zabini," Greg said, and shoved Malcolm towards the common room.
Greg tentatively tried the door knob, but it was locked. He took a deep breath, took a few steps back, and slammed into the door as hard as he could. It shook, and creaked promisingly, and when Greg tried again, harder, the whole thing just fell to the ground, sort of splintered in the middle.
Draco whirled around, and just seeing him nearly made Greg turn and run. He was paler than eve, the pits beneath his eyes more pronounced. There was no blood flow to his face, and he looked pointer, and ore tightly drawn than usual. And his eyes were blank with despair, his shoulders drawn tight.
"Hey Draco." Greg tried not to sound tentative but he was pretty sure he failed.
Draco clutched what looked like maybe some parchment close to his chest, and his lips moved without a sound for a moment.
Greg put his hands up, the universal sign of surrender, and took a few steps towards Draco. "What- What is that? What's wrong?" Damn voice. He was sure he sounded scared this time. What the hell was shaking Draco up this much? Draco got mad all the time, but this was not usually how he reacted to things. At all.
Draco just shook his head, clutching the parchment tighter, closing his eyes, tightly. Greg took another step forwards, but then Draco's eyes snapped open, and his lips flew back in a snarl, and he dropped to the ground, contorting. It looked sort of gross when Draco turned into a werewolf, his bones made these crunching and stretching sounds, and his body twisted in unnatural ways, and his face looked like he was in a lot of pain.
Greg took a few cautious steps back, Blaise was better at handling this than Greg had ever been, and hopefully he could come and make everything better. Also, secretly, Greg was sort of scared that Draco might not recognize him like he could recognize Blaise when he was all werewolf. Draco and Blaise were more intense, they seemed to communicate on an extra level, Blaise was handsome and girls love him, and Draco had this bright hot charisma, and he could make anyone laugh, and the two of them each thought the other was better, and they competed and squabbled, and were just… different from everyone. It didn't seem to bother Theo, and it didn't exactly bother Greg, it just. Made him worried sometimes.
Blaise sprinted in, past Greg, and fell to his knees next to Draco. A low growl came from where they were huddled as Blaise reached for the crumpled papers. He uncurled them, ignoring Draco, and froze. He got up, smoothing the papers, and turned slowly to Greg.
It was cold, but the early October chill that swept through the dungeons was nothing though, compared to the ice that ran through his veins. It was a wizarding photograph, of the Malfoy Manor burning. He watched numbly, and then realized, it was a clipping from the Daily Prophet's late edition, it said MRS. MALFOY, MRS. PARKINSON, AND MRS. BADDOCK, FOUND DEAD IN BURNT MALFOY MANOR. MRS. AVERY AND MRS. GREENGRASS AT ST. MUNGO'S IN CRITICAL CONDITION.
"Get the others, Greg," Blaise said quietly. Greg just nodded numbly, and turned to do what he did best, and follow Blaise's orders.