A/N: Okay, this one might be a bit of a stretch, but hey.. I did get the prompt in there, right?
Still a bit angsty, but with a hopeful/flirty ending?
ooo
Gregory was in a right state. He didn't exactly know what had happened, but at some point during the other night, after Ginny had long fallen asleep, head in his lap and fingers threaded with his, something had changed. A new feeling – something hot and desperate, rumbling deep inside his chest and setting his skin on fire– and all of a sudden it felt unbearable to be so close to her. It had been too much and not enough all at the same time, and in that moment of shocking realisation the only thing that seemed viable to do was to leave. To take some time away from her and figure out what exactly he was feeling.
He knew that it had been all his fault. He had felt her gaze on him more than once during breakfast the next day, and it would have been easy to right the whole thing by just looking up at her and offer her a little smile. But something had kept him from doing it. He didn't know why, but apparently his kneejerk reaction to confusing feelings was avoiding them altogether. He had pushed her away, and by doing so, had probably fucked up their entire friendship.
He thought he'd lost her.
So when Ginny came to the kitchens that night, after two whole days of zero interaction between them, he felt so relieved that he nearly dropped the ball of pastry he'd been working on and hugged her – messy hands and all. But again, something stopped him, and instead he just stood there, pastry in hand and heart hammering in his chest, and stared at her.
"Hi." Ginny breathed, and his heart constricted painfully when she took a step closer. She was pale, much paler than usual, and there were dark circles under her eyes as if she hadn't slept in days.
"Hi." He replied, his throat feeling like sandpaper.
Ginny took a few laboured breaths, her hand clenching and unclenching several times by her side, but then she seemed to make a decision and her face melted into a smile. - small, but friendly, and she came closer.
"So now that we're nearing Christmas, Peeves is trying to repeat his stupid Mistletoe prank from a couple of months back." She said in a conversational tone while summoning a chair and putting it into her usual spot. "It's rather unoriginal if you ask me… I mean, what else does he do other than annoying people? You'd think he'd have time to come up with something new."
She looked at him expectantly, as if she was waiting for him to say something, and Greg really wasn't sure what to make of the whole situation. He had expected confrontation, maybe even a fight, but apparently Ginny was ready to forget the past couple of days and move on. She was giving him the chance to pretend it never happened. Now it was on him to decide what to do with it – play along and hope for the best, or apologise for his behaviour, which would probably be the proper thing to do, but would open up a whole can of worms that could potentially make things even worse.
Had he been a Gryffindor, he would have probably done the chivalrous thing and apologise, but he wasn't. Greg was a Slytherin, so when Ginny was willing to throw him a lifeline, he would bloody well take it.
"I suppose." He said carefully. "But then the poor sod wouldn't be able to impress you, no matter what he tried." He shrugged, trying desperately to keep his tone a light, playful tease. "Not with the pranks you're used to from your family. The mistletoe thing annoyed you a lot last time. He's probably just trying to get that feeling of triumph again."
There were several seconds of silence, the tension between them so strong it was almost unbearable, but then Ginny huffed out an amused sigh, and her face broke into a wide, boisterous grin.
"True." She said, a light chuckle escaping her lips, as she finally let herself sink into the chair she had summoned. "Although I doubt that Peeves' greatest ambition is to impress me."
Relief flooded Gregory's chest – sweet, beautiful relief – and he couldn't help but smile.
…and then they talked; and all of a sudden, things were just like they used to be.
Ginny threw herself into stories of all the pranks her brothers used to play on her mum around Christmas – from baubles that turned into turnips to garlands that tried to wind around you like Devil's Snare whenever you got too close to them.
And Greg listened; a warm feeling spreading in his chest as he nodded in response and laughed about the jokes.
"They always mess with the decorations." Ginny eventually finished, tilting her head and pulling a shoulder into a half-shrug. "One time they even used a petrified gnome as a tree topper. Gave it wings and everything. Mum didn't notice until the spell wore off and the pesky thing threw the whole tree over in its attempt to escape."
Greg shook his head and chuckled. "Sounds like Christmas is quite the adventure in your home."
"It is." Ginny agreed happily. "It's great fun."
She looked at him with a spark of curiosity in her eyes. "So what's Christmas like at your place?"
Greg thought about the question for a moment, then shrugged. "I don't know really. I haven't had one in a while, but I remember our old house elf used to make me extra cocoa before bed on Christmas Eve, and my parents always got me lots of presents."
"What do you mean, you haven't had one in a while?" Ginny asked incredulously. "Don't you celebrate Christmas in your home?"
"Not really." He admitted. "I've been staying at Hogwarts for Christmas ever since my dad realised that that was an option."
Ginny looked shocked, a whole myriad of emotions playing out on her face as she shook her head in disbelief.
"But that's awful! I'm so sorry, Greg."
He couldn't help but huff out a small laugh at her horrified reaction. "Hey!" he commanded "There's nothing wrong with a good Hogwarts Christmas, you know? The feasts were always amazing and most people went home, so we'd have the common room to ourselves. And the house elves would bring us lots of treats and hot chocolate in the evenings and show us how to roast marshmallows by the fire…"
"We?" Ginny interrupted, looking confused.
"Wha -? Oh! Yes, Theo never went home either." Greg explained. "Family stuff, I think."
Ginny bit her lip and nodded, her eyes glazing over as she seemingly lost herself in thought.
"I guess that does sound quite nice." She eventually sighed, a kind, but somewhat stiff smile on her lips.
Greg hummed, affirmative. "Hogwarts Christmases always are." Before adding jokingly "They're magical, really."
At that Ginny's eyes grew wide, and her jaw dropped as a rapturous laugh bubbled from her lips.
"Gregory Goyle!" she exclaimed, a mixture of shock and glee on her face. "Did you just make a joke?"
Greg grinned at her, feeling rather pleased with her reaction. "It's rare, but it does happen." He said, a casual air to his tone.
"Clearly." Ginny huffed, still looking perplexed, before she shook her head and added. "It's always the quiet ones that catch you by surprise."
"Well." He said, shrugging lightly. "you know what they say about still waters…"
"They always run deep." Ginny nodded, a sudden sparkle in her eyes. "I wonder what else you're hiding from me underneath that quiet façade of yours."
Greg bit his lip and swiped his hand over the stubble on his chin, trying to hide a grin. He shouldn't, he knew he really shouldn't flirt with her. Not after they had just got back to normal. But in that moment, she looked so beautiful, with her mouth lightly parted in wonder and her eyes glittering like amber in sunlight, that he just couldn't help himself.
"Careful, Weasley." He hummed, in a low, gravelly sort of voice that sounded far too suggestive to be used in conversation with a friend. "If you dig too deep you might find things about me you wish you didn't know…things you couldn't handle."
Ginny breath hitched, and Greg's stomach leapt with victory, as he watched a deep blush creep into her cheeks and all the way up to the roots of her flaming hair.
She locked eyes with him, a determined, almost stubborn glint in them, and all of a sudden, all the bashfulness drained from her face and she quirked a playful, almost tantalising eyebrow. "Don't underestimate me, Goyle." She murmured, putting emphasis on his last name. "I can handle more than you think."