The once-sane once-Slytherin didn't struggle as Greg began disrobing him, and he picked up on the tone, the hurry in Greg's fingers as he was being unwrapped and bit his lip to stop the words coming, reading that Greg would be displeased with him and not about to risk the phantom ache in his body becoming real.
He moved as Greg directed like a little Imperio'd thing standing with arms limp at his sides but lifting his feet obediently to let Greg help him out of his pants. He shivered, his thin body defenceless in the cold, carefully watching the room for danger as his nudity made an even colder curl of something wrong creep into his tummy. "Hurry hurry..." he muttered back, barely audible.