Greg kept his stroking, petting Theo everywhere like a parent tending a child and not as much as a lover caressing a lover. He felt the ribs and the gauntness of the frame of Theo and it made his smile slip again, that momentary feeling of happiness replaced by deep concern.
"The only thing I know about ashes has to do with that damn bird Dumbledore had. Do you remember? The phoenix? It would burn up, flame into a pile of ashes and then poof! A baby bird would appear in the rubble, reborn, fresh and new."
Greg gave a small sigh, thinking about fire. That day in Hogwarts had been filled with fire. And shock and surprise and something hard and resentful; Draco had fucking helped Potter, right there, in front of he and Vincent.
Fucking helped him! The idea made Greg stiffen slightly and he realized his anger was translating into his hands and he made himself calm down. He had to speak with Draco. He needed to find Vincent as well. Greg looked down at Theo, thinking. This couldn't continue like this. He had to do something to help Theo through this, past this. Greg thought he would try to find the one person who might be able to give him some solid advice. If his old Head of House would see him. There had to be something they could do.
"Maybe we can get some memories pulled out of you?" he said as he gazed at Theo, "Do you think that would help? Or some potion that can ease your nerves? Theo, I can't stand the idea of you staying in here, alone," and Greg licked his lips and impulsively bent over to lay a gentle kiss on Theo's forehead. He turned his cheek to rest it there, "My poor boy. Can't I do something to help clear those webs from your brain, love?"