rarepair_shorts Ficlet- PG-13- Helping Her Heal
Title: Helping her heal
Character Pairing: Tracey Davis/ Greg Goyle
Prompt: watch your step
Rating: PG-13 for language
Word Count: 717
Summary: Tracey's heart is broken, or so Greg thinks...
Author's notes Sixth in the series. Follows Boys are morons
Link to prompt table: Prompt table
"Maeve?" Greg knocked on the door, for the fifth time. He hadn't expected this. Not mere days out of Hogwarts. That wanker Nott was to blame. What sort of idiot, after a year long relationship, broke up with his girl because he was going on a Grand Tour? Fucking idiot. He knew he'd have to tread carefully as His Maeve could even put Draco to shame when she decided to sulk. And was she ever sulking. Apparently, she was taking Nott's moronic actions as a slight on her. Greg had offered to hunt the wanker down and thrash him again, but much to his disappointment, Maeve had refused to allow it. She said that the thrashing he, and Vinnie, had given the prat already was enough. Greg was of a differing opinion. Maeve was hurting and for the first time ever she wasn't letting him fix it. He had long ago accepted that he was arse over broomstick for his best friend. He'd also accepted that she saw him as nothing more than a friend and confidant. That didn't mean he couldn't try.
"Go away, Val," she called through the door. "I'm in no mood for company."
He let his head fall with a light 'thud' against the door. Company? COMPANY? What the ruddy hell was that? He'd never been treated like company, not at Whittom Park, just as Maeve had been 'family' at his home, Stone Walk. It just wasn't how things worked between them. "Tracey Maeve Davis, you open that door or I'll blow it to bits."
He stumbled forward, having still been leaning on the door, a moment later when she yanked the door open. He caught himself and looked up through his fringe with a wince. She looked livid. He reached out, pulling her into his arms quickly. Running his fingertips along her spine lightly, his other hand buried in the hair at the nape of her neck, Greg felt like he was finally home. "Don't reprimand me, dear one."
She sniffled, wrapping her arms around his waist. "I-I...why wasn't I enough?"
He nearly growled, picking her up and carrying her over to the bed, sitting down and setting her in his lap. He loathed hearing her sound so defeated. They sat quietly while she cried herself out and he rubbed her back and kissed the top of her head. He knew to wait her out no matter how much he wanted to take that step that would change things between them irrecoverably. "Don't say that, Maeve. Nott was never good enough for you, anyway."
She leaned back, tears streaming down her face, and his chest felt tight. He cupped her face with his hand, brushing away her tears. He kissed her brow and whispered, "I don't lie to you. I never have and never will. Tell me what I can do to make this better."
She half-smiled, curling up with her head on his chest with a heavy sigh. "Can we go somewhere, anywhere, that he won't be? Somewhere not here, Val. You pick. Please."
"Of course we can, Poppet. Greece? Australia?"
She giggled softly. "New Zealand."
He snickered. She'd seen a picture of New Zealand when they were twelve and had decided then and there that he would take her someday. It looked like someday had finally arrived. "Pack your bags, Maeve, and we'll leave tonight."
She slid off of his lap, kissing both his cheeks before crossing the room to her wardrobe. He watched as she started tossing clothing into a trunk, scooting back to lean against the headboard, silently congratulating himself on stepping cautiously around her mood. He adored Maeve and had been 'silenced' enough over the years to learn when it was time to speak up and when to give her space. No one, most especially Nott, knew her as well as Greg did. It was one thing he prided himself on. He still felt guilt that, back in sixth year, he'd been distracted by Quidditch. The day she'd confronted him with that little fact had been the day he owned up to how he truly felt for her, had felt for her for years.
Tracey looked over her shoulder at Greg, smiling softly. "You always have loved me best, haven't you?"
Greg grinned. "Of course I have."
And he wasn't kidding.