While Draco had a mission, Gregory had a secret. A terribly big and terribly terrible yet wonderful secret. It was a secret he even had to hide from Vincent, Vinnie, his best friend, his brother from another mother, who he shared almost everything from clothes to cake crumbs since they were babies. It was a secret so very secret, he dared not even say it to himself.

It took the form of a tatty old magazine, which he hid in his underwear drawer, underwear being one of the only other thing he didn't share with Vincent. And no one else would go there, because if they did, that would mean that the bloke would be a gay, which meant that Gregory had something on them.

Simple yet genius. That was his favourite phrase to say, because he liked the fact that something could be simple yet genius. Like him, maybe, one day.

Vincent's favourite thing to say was 'They think we're stupid, but we're not the ones lying in the mud like an arse.' Which was really cool, but it was kind of too long to say it a lot. Gregory could say his a lot and he did. It really pissed Draco off each time he said it, though Gregory wasn't too sure why. But then Draco was always kind of pissy, especially since this summer cause of his dad and his mission and all.

Gregory dreaded to imagine what would happen if Draco ever found out his secret. That was his worst fear. Would Draco denounce him as a blood traitor? A mud-eating muggle lover?! Would Draco's eyes widen in horror and disgust as it took in images of the muscles and the sweat and the costumes? Or would he just laugh at Gregory, and laugh at the men Gregory had begun to look upon as idols?

He didn't know which was worse.

Gregory knew he was stupid. Really stupid, far stupider than Vincent ever was. He knew that he was never going to be any good at any of the lessons, whether it was magic or knowledge. He tried to get better, he really did, but once you know that you are going to be bad, all the efforts seem useless. What was the point? What was the point of doing anything when you know your going to be the worst at it? The only thing he was ever any good at was fighting. No one had ever beaten him in a one on one non-magical fight, not even Vincent. He loved it, every single part of it. He always had the utmost confidence in his strength and size, ever since he was a kid, a baby even, maybe even since he was in his mum's stomach. Fighting was his joy in life and the feeling of beating someone, standing tall above them while they cowered on the floor, was the best feeling he knew.

But what did physical strength matter in a world of magic? What was going to happen when school ended and he was going to have find a job? What was he going to do? He was going to end up like his dad, trapped in a job he hated, become the butt of everyone's jokes, jokes he wouldn't even get because he was too dumb. He was too dumb to even be allowed to dream.

That magazine changed all that. He found it after scaring some second years Hufflepuffs last year in the library, and they had left it one the table. At first, he didn't even notice it but two page spread of a giant muscled monster of a man with dark hair headlocking an equally muscled blond could not fail to grab his attention. He was mesmerised. All the fighting, all the strength in those pictures, they were something like from a dream. After taking it back with him, he lay on his bed at night, eyes glued to each and every page, mouthing every printed word. Muggles do this as a job? Muggles pay to watch it? Though the pictures did not move, Gregory had never been so transfixed with something his entire life.

Gregory had dreams now. He dreamed of being a wrestler. He fantasized about winning competitions, with gold medals and beautiful, big-breasted blondes willing to do anything for their champion. Potter could have the Triwizard Cup, all Gregory could ever want, pride, succession, fame, lay on the path of the wrestling career. He would Greg the Grinder, the Smasher of Teeth, the Breaker of Bones and no one will dare make fun of him. People would pay to watch him beat the shit out of someone, to see blood and pain. He could even become someone's idol, a boy like him, and be a person who can gives people dreams!

Oh, if only he was born a muggle.