TW - Self-harm and bullying.
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Aside from a hefty amount of homework, the first week of term passed uneventfully for Grey. He spent his nights flying around the castle and the rest of his spare time with Richard and Derric. The Hufflepuff seemed to be with them always, not that Grey minded. He was a delightful presence and it was clear Richard liked him too.
However, the weekend found Grey severed from them as he was sent back to the hospital wing with another migraine. Nurse Sullivan met him with a look of tense understanding which Grey barely registered through the pain.
Sat on a bed, he gulped down the elixir given to him and sighed. Once again, it only dulled the pain. From beside him, he could feel Sullivan piercing gaze.
"Still in pain?" He inquired.
Grey took notice of the clipboard in his hand as he nodded. Sullivan made a note.
"Any strange dreams lately?"
Grey frowned.
"No, sir."
"None?"
"No, sir," He repeated as Sullivan scribbled something down. "I never remember my dreams."
The nurse raised his eyebrows and made a noise that Grey couldn't decipher.
"Never?"
Grey gritted his teeth.
"Never, sir."
He could feel irritation creeping in his chest as Sullivan made another note. What was the relevance of all this anyway?
"Any more strange coincidences or deja vu?" Sullivan pressed further.
"No. What is this all about?"
His question was ignored. Grey swallowed the urge to snap at the nurse. Despite his confusion, he tried to remind himself that the man was probably only trying to help. So instead, he picked at the scabs in his hands.
"If you have any dreams you remember, please write them down."
Grey couldn't hold back his scoff.
"Why, sir?"
Sullivan surveyed him sharply.
"I'm sure you'll be starting dreams in divination soon," He replied coldly.
It took everything for Grey not to roll his eyes at the cryptic answer. He knew there was something else going on but it was clear they weren't going to tell him. Grey wondered if Sullivan's notes would be taken to Professor Dumbledore. The teacher had been showing an extra interest in him so far this term, always picking on him in class and enquiring about his health if they passed in the corridors. Grey wasn't used to such positive attention. He was sure there was some motive behind it. No one aside from his two friends ever showed him attention without reason.
Nails embedded in palms once again, he left the hospital wing wearing a scowl. He didn't feel like studying so he chose to wander aimlessly about the castle, glaring at anyone who looked at him oddly. If it wasn't broad daylight, he'd have gone for a fly but he didn't want to risk it.
Rounding a corner on the fifth floor, Grey stopped dead in his tracks. Ahead, talking about something in Malfoy's hand was the hated trio. Hastily, he swiveled round, hoping they had not noticed him but the exclamation of 'freak' and the sound of approaching footsteps told him otherwise.
Malfoy barreled in front of him, effectively blocking his escape.
"Hello freak, no need to rush away just yet," He cackled. His two friends stood imposingly around him.
"Do you like the gift my father sent me?" Malfoy asked, holding up the pin in his hand. It was a silver triangle with a circle and a line through it.
Grey knew it well, the whole wizarding world did.
"You know, Grindelwald is doing the right thing, wiping out all those muggles. I reckon if someone told him about a freak like you, he'd kill you too."
The three boys laughed. Grey held his breath as if holding in the air could restrain him from retaliating. He felt blood drip from his palm into the floor.
A hand encircled his wrist. Macmillan waved the stained hand in front of his friends, smirking.
"Look, she's bleeding, how pathetic."
That did it.
Grey twisted his wrist out of the other ravenclaw's hand and shoved him backward. Blood stained the boy's clean white shirt. Grey took a threatening step forward but stopped hurriedly when he felt the cold tip of a wand press into his neck.
"I wouldn't if I were you, Willow." Malfoy sneered, "I'd hate to get more of your dirty blood on the floor."
"Oh you would, would you?" Grey spat venomously.
Their cruel laughter almost cut deeper than their words.
"You need to know your place freak." The Slytherin hissed.
Grey turned slightly to face him, still cautious of the wand at his throat.
"There's us, then there are halfbloods, then mudbloods. There are toads, there are rats, then there's muggles. Then there are abominations like you."
Grey wished he could knock them out with just a look.
"Got it freak?"
Grey smirked to himself, an idea forming.
"Yeah, I got it."
As the boys grinned at each other, he took his chance. He lunged at Malfoy, grabbing the pin out of his hand, ready to hurl it out the window.
But something happened that froze him mid-throw.
His headache flared violently. Dark spots obscured his vision. Then suddenly, images flashed across his mind.
There is a boy - older than Grey, but not yet a man.
He has long dark hair.
He is crying.
There is a man - Grindelwald - How could he see this?
The dark wizard raises his wand.
The image changes.
A phoenix sawing above a dark tower, a pretty blonde woman watching mournfully out a window...
Pain erupted in Grey's stomach as he came barreling back to reality. Doubling over, he dropped the pin as Malfoy and Rookwood loomed above him.
"Didn't you hear me freak," Malfoy growled, grabbing at the back of Grey's hair and wrenching it back so their eyes met, "I said give it back."
Rookwood's fist connected with his stomach again and he coughed in pain. The boys backed away as Grey slumped into a sitting position, clutching his stomach. His head was still aching from the strange incident. He barely acknowledged Malfoy's parting insults as the trio slunk away.
Grey remained motionless, palms pressed onto the cold floor.
What on earth had just happened? Hallucinations? Some side effects of the migraine?
But he didn't know the boy or the woman. Sure he knew who Grindelwald was but not them.
Maybe it was a side effect of the elixir Nurse Sullivan gave him?
"Mr Willow? Grey?"
A calm voice pulled him from his pained thoughts. He glanced up at the concerned visage of Dumbledore.
"Is everything alright?"
Heaving himself to his feet, Grey wiped his bloody palms on his robes. He saw Dumbledore register the dark red handprints left on the stone floor.
"Fine Professor." Grey managed in a hoarse voice.
"I -"
But he didn't let his teacher finish what he was about to say. With an awkward half-smile, Grey sped away from Dumbledore, ignoring the man's calls. He'd deal with the consequences tomorrow.
Once back in his dorm, Grey collapsed on his bed. Twyla came and curled up next to him and he silently thanked her for the comfort. His mind was racing. His body ached. What had just happened? He was much more bothered by the strange visions than the encounter with Malfoy.
Maybe he was going mad? He'd certainly been accused of it before.
He tried to focus on the pain in his hands, letting that ground him. The pin Malfoy held was Grindelwald's symbol, that fact hardly surprised him but what made his stomach unsettled was that the hallucination had also contained Grindelwald too. It had to be some pain-induced coincidence. What else could it be?
Grey couldn't tell if the sickness he felt was from these thoughts or the punches he'd taken earlier.
He swallowed thickly when suddenly a knock sounded at his door. With a groan, he rose slowly to answer it.
Much to his surprise, he found the frowning figure of Professor Elks at his door. It was hard to miss the look of disappointment on his head of house's face.
"Grey, Professor Dumbledore has requested to see you in his office." The man started sternly.
Grey groaned again, reluctantly exiting his dorm. Ignoring the curious looks from the other Ravenclaws, he walked beside Elks out of the tower.
"Please tell me you haven't been fighting again Grey." His teacher sighed when they reached the corridor.
He pressed his cut palms into his pockets.
"No, sir." He grumbled.
"Because I really thought you were going to try this year. You're a brilliant student and -"
Grey tuned out Elks' disappointed lecture. How could his teacher understand? Though they were both men, Grey actually had to live every day proving it, Elks didn't. So how could he lecture him on such things?
"I wasn't fighting sir," He repeated quietly.
He could almost feel the man's disbelief.
"Then why has Professor Dumbledore asked to see you?"
Grey remained silent despite his urge to answer back. Professor Elks sighed as they reached the corridor of Dumbledore's office.
"I'm disappointed in you Grey." He remarked sullenly, turning to leave.
Grey surveyed his retreating form, fidgeting with his sore hands. When he was out of sight he glanced at his feet.
"I know." He mumbled, the words almost sticking in his throat.
Shoulders slumped forward, he made his way to Dumbledore's office, pausing before knocking. A moment passed before he was called to enter.
Dumbledore was standing by his desk, hands in his pockets. Upon entry, he turned to glance at Grey. He wore a stern expression, no smile on his face now. Instead, his lips were held in a thin line and his eyebrows knitted together.
Grey wondered how much of his encounter with Malfoy the professor had witnessed. Closing the door behind him, he felt his palms sweating slightly. His teacher surveyed him for a moment before speaking.
"Please take a seat, Grey." He requested, gesturing to a seat by his desk.
Grey was taken aback by the use of his first name. Perhaps he would be getting another disappointed speech? While pondering this, Grey made no move toward the chair. With a clenched jaw, he tried to coax himself to speak.
"Professor, I can explain -"
But he was cut off.
"Sit."
The stern command in Dumbledore's voice galvanized him into moving. His leg twitched as he descended into the seat. Dumbledore grabbed his own chair and moved it around the desk so the item of furniture didn't separate them. The look he gave the boy was unreadable to Grey, he could barely guess what to expect.
"Show me your hands please." His professor requested softly.
That was definitely not what he expected.
Grey bit his lip but complied; avoiding Dumbledore's eyes, his fingers trembled as he pulled his hands from his pockets and held them up. Gently, Dumbledore took hold of them, turning his palms face up.
Grey didn't even grimace as the wounds were revealed. Ugly and thick, an oozing claw mark stretched across each palm, embedded in building scar tissue and flakes of dried blood. Grey's heart was pounding in his chest as he breathed heavily through his nose.
He heard Dumbledore sigh and felt him carefully trace one of the marks, inspecting it closely.
"Grey," Dumbledore muttered.
Here it was, Grey thought, here comes the disappointment.
"Would you let me clean these?"
Grey's eyes snapped up to meet Dumbledore's.
"What?" He spluttered, unable to mask his surprise.
Dumbledore's brow furrowed as concern rought his features.
"I have some dittany, may I clean these please?" He asked again.
Grey bit the inside of his cheek trying to process the situation.
"Oh, uh - ok." He mumbled after a moment.
The professor gave him a small somewhat sad smile before grabbing a cloth and bottle he'd had prepared on his desk. Adjusting his grip so he held one hand at once, Dumbledore softly cleaned the cuts, occasionally glancing at Grey to check he was comfortable.
While he worked, Grey sat in stunned silence, wincing every now and then at the pain. The cuts gradually knitted themselves back together, leaving just the wide scar. It was obvious now from the pattern of the tissue that it was a repeated injury.
Dumbledore released his hands when he finished and placed the bottle and bloody cloth back on the table. Grey quickly stuffed his hands back in his pockets.
"Why do you keep doing that Grey?" Dumbledore inquired.
His countenance was no longer stern but Grey almost wished he was being scolded instead of this.
"I don't know, sir." He muttered, chewing on the inside of his cheek.
"If people are bothering you, I can help."
"I know, sir," Grey replied stoically.
Dumbledore sighed. "Did something happen in the corridor earlier?"
Grey shook his head, ignoring the unconvinced look on Dumbledore's face. Anyone else would have told someone and tried to make the harassment stop. But Grey wasn't foolish. He knew that telling a teacher would only make the beatings worse.
"I just want to help you, Grey." His teacher continued imploringly.
"You have helped me, sir, thank you for cleaning my hands."
Dumbledore looked at him pleadingly.
"I'm concerned about your well-being." He pressed.
"Is that why you've asked Nurse Sullivan to report back to you sir?"
He had no idea what made him say it, especially considering how nice Dumbledore was being. He prepared himself for the lecture. But Dumbledore only chuckled quietly.
"You really are a smart young man Grey." He mused, rising to his feet and pacing behind his desk.
The lack of consequences provoked Grey to press further. He kept his tone polite and reserved to avoid unnecessary aggravation.
"Why are you getting him to do that sir?" He asked, also standing.
Dumbledore wandered to his window, the same one Grey had spied on him through a few nights ago.
"Curiosity," He shrugged, "Concern, fear, hope. Take your pick."
He looked back at Grey, a note of sadness in his eyes.
"What are you curious about?" Grey bit his cheek harder, tasting blood.
Dumbledore turned again to face him. There was a distant look on his face.
"I recognized your symptoms." He admitted.
Grey inhaled sharply at his confession.
"From where?" He demanded.
Dumbledore smiled knowingly and placed his hands in his pockets again.
"Any strange dreams or coincidences?" He asked.
"No sir," Grey answered immediately as his mind flashed with the images from the earlier incident.
"Then it doesn't matter," Dumbledore concluded.
Something uncomfortable stirred in Grey's stomach at his statement.
"My door's always open Grey, if you need anything at all. I hope you know that."
Grey nodded. "I know, thank you, sir,"
"I hope the rest of your day is more pleasant," Dumbledore added with a kind yet sympathetic smile.
Grey swallowed thickly. "You too, sir."
He turned swiftly on his heel and exited the office. Thoughts raced through his mind as he returned to his dorm room and much to his confusion, Grey found himself blinking back tears. When he entered his room, he scooped Twyla into his arms. Curling into the corner of his bed, Grey spent the rest of his day there, fighting back all the feelings that threatened to break free.