TW - self-harm.
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Transfiguration classes were starting to become a subject of distaste for Grey. Dumbledore was always staring at him or trying to subtly check his hands in some way. Grey no longer raised his hands to participate and he began sitting at the very back of the class so he could make a speedy exit as soon as the bell rang. His grades didn't suffer thankfully. Grey knew he was very good at transfiguration so he kept up with homework and revision. He just wished Dumbledore would move on to a new pity case. How he dealt with his issues was his own problem. Pain just happened to be the most effective strategy. Dumbledore just didn't understand.
Richard had noticed his strange behavior changes. Two weeks after the quidditch match, while they were on their way to the dreaded lesson, he started a conversation.
"There's something wrong." He stated in a monotone voice.
Grey glanced at him inquiringly.
"Why have you been acting so different in transfiguration?" He continued bluntly.
Grey sighed, Richard was always one for getting to the point.
"I'm just not enjoying it as much this year." He shrugged, picking at the scabs in his palms.
He saw Richard roll his eyes and felt unease stir in his stomach.
"Why not? What's changed?"
"It's easy, boring, like how you feel in history of magic." Grey dismissed.
He was trying his best to sound as casual as possible. The less emotion he showed, the more believable it was.
"You loved it last year." Richard pressed.
"It felt like a challenge last year. This year just feels like revision."
Richard exhaled sharply through his nose, but Grey continued to avoid his eyes.
They carried on silently down the hall and upon entering the classroom, wordlessly took their seats at the back. Grey began to pull and press at the scabs on his hands, once more breaking the skin.
Richard didn't tell him everything, he reasoned. He kept things to himself so why couldn't Grey do it too? It didn't mean anything. Grey was thoroughly distracted by this as Dumbledore began the class, covering the theory of animagi. It didn't matter that he was missing it. This was a brand of magic he knew very well.
The second half of the lesson was spent practicing vanishing spells, which was probably the most difficult transfiguration magic they learnt all year. In their pairs, they'd been given a small handful of buttons which Grey and Richard were taking turns to vanish.
Grey could feel another headache creeping up the back of his skull. He was hoping it would remain manageable enough to last him till the end of the lesson, then he could nap that evening. Dumbledore was making rounds through the pairs, observing everyone's spells. Eventually, he made it to the two boys.
"Mr. Myers, why don't you go first." He beamed.
Richard effortlessly vanished his button.
"Excellent job, now you Mr Willow."
Not looking at his teacher, Grey vanished his button, imagining it was Dumbledore.
"Very good, now have a go on these beetles." The teacher said, placing two iridescent bugs on their table.
Grey saw Richard cringe slightly. The boys began working on the bugs. Live creatures were much harder to vanish than inanimate objects.
"Not challenging enough huh?" Richard poked at Grey, grinning through his evident frustration.
Grey glared playfully at him.
"Shut up," He huffed, failing to vanish his beetle again.
He glanced around at the class to see if anyone else had managed it and his eyes glazed over Dumbledore's moving form.
Pain exploded across his skull without warning. An involuntary gasp escaped his lips.
"You alright?" Richard asked softly.
"My head." Grey just managed to whisper, clutching at his head.
A look of knowing concern overtook Richard's face.
"You need to go to the hospital wing."
"No."Grey hissed.
"Don't be an idiot Grey."
Grey glanced at Richard, tears stinging his eyes as he fought to hold them back. The pain was more intense than any migraine so far. With a frustrated sigh, Grey raised his hand, forgetting he had been picking at the now open wound. He saw Dumbledore notice his hand, but the pain was too great to see his subtle double take at the sight of the bleeding palm.
"Yes, Mr Willow?" He asked, keeping his voice steady.
"Sorry sir, my head, may I go, Hospital wing." Grey managed to tensely mumble.
Dumbledore nodded and Grey practically flew from his seat and into the corridor. He was sure his head would explode. Nothing else could explain pain this bad. Sweat dripped down his forehead as he paused in the corridor. His senses were totally overwhelmed. It was all he could manage to stumble across the hall, into an empty classroom, and slump to the floor in the cool darkness.
This was torture.
Footsteps sounded outside as a figure was calling his name. Suddenly, someone entered the room and crouched down in front of him.
"Grey?"
Grey peered up into the anxious face of Dumbledore. The professor's blue eyes were scanning him rapidly and he reached over to feel the boy's forehead. But before his hand contacted his skin, Grey was thrown into darkness.
Images flash before his eyes again.
Steadier now, more clear.
It is Grindelwald again.
Shrouded in darkness, he stands in a damp stone room. It's dark out.
The long-haired boy stands near the window, wand in hand.
"Do you understand?" Grindelwald asks. His voice is not how Grey expected. It's almost soft, and gentle, with a calming Eastern European accent.
The boy looks at him, his face is always sad.
"I've tried to," He murmurs. He's American. "I'm just confused."
"Tycho Dodonus was a great seer, greater than me." Grindelwald stalks over to the boy. "One prophecy spoke of you, but there is another my boy."
He places a hand on the younger's shoulder. The younger leans into his touch.
"Like you, I must find them too."
The scene changes rapidly.
He's stood in a square courtyard. He can almost feel the cold wind rustling the pines.
The gravel crunches behind him. He turns rapidly.
Grindelwald stands, wand in hand, pointing beyond him.
Grey stares into his mismatched eyes as he raises his wand.
"Avada Kedavra."
A jet of green light shoots past him.
He turns to see the target.
"Grey!"
A hand impacted his shoulder and Grey lurched forward, gulping the air like water. He scrambled to his feet, backing away from Dumbledore as the headache faded.
"Wait here," Dumbledore ordered hurriedly.
Then he rushed from the room. Grey could hear him dismissing the class as the sound of many feet echoed down the corridor. He could have run. He could have disappeared into the flood of students and gone to his bed but Grey found himself frozen in place, reeling from the images he'd just witnessed.
Shortly, Dumbledore re-entered the empty classroom. He hurried over to Grey, reaching out to lead him to a seat. Finally, grey managed to coax his limbs into action, just in time to duck away from his teacher. He breathed heavily.
"Grey please, you need to sit down." Dumbledore insisted.
"Sorry sir," He gasped breathlessly, "I should go, homework."
Grey made a start toward the door. With a flick of Dumbledore's wand, it slammed shut. He sent an incredulous look at his teacher. Dumbledore's face held an incredible mix of emotions: concern, recognition, pity, sadness, curiosity - it was utterly overwhelming.
"No, you are not running away from this Grey." The man declared sternly, taking a step forward.
Grey desperately tried to find solace in his ruined palms. Through gritted teeth, he glared at Dumbledore.
"Run away from what sir?"
His teacher raised an eyebrow at the audacity of his question.
"Don't play dumb with me." He warned.
Grey wondered if he should be afraid, but what he'd just experienced outweighed everything he'd once feared.
"I'm sorry sir, my headache overwhelmed me." He insisted stoically.
Dumbledore's eyes widened. "Your eyes went white, I'm not a fool. I know what that means."
Grey remained silent. Dumbledore sighed, moving so he stood right in front of Grey. He changed his demeanor, clearly overcoming his initial shock.
"Have you had visions before?" He asked more gently, placing his hands in his trouser pockets.
"I've never had visions, sir." Grey diligently avoided his eyes.
"Grey!" Dumbledore sighed with clear frustration.
He surveyed the Ravenclaw's stance, taking note of the clenched hands. Grey could feel the movement of his eyes almost instinctually.
"You lied to me before, didn't you?" Dumbledore stated in a calmly accusing tone.
"No sir."
"Show me your hands," Dumbledore said after a moment's silence.
Finally, Grey dared to meet his eyes. He was surprised to find no anger there and it confused him even more.
"My hands are fine sir." He insisted, keeping eye contact.
He watched Dumbledore's blue eyes fill with sadness.
"You shouldn't have to experience this alone Grey. Please let me help you." He pressed.
Grey backed up slightly. "Thank you but I don't need help with anything."
"You and I both know that's a lie."
"Do we sir?" Grey pressed his nails so deep into his palm that he winced.
He hated himself at that moment, both for showing weakness and equally for not letting himself show anymore.
"You know what's happening. You're denying it because you're scared."
As Dumbledore stepped forward, Grey stepped back. How dare he see right through him so easily.
"I have nothing to be afraid of. I apologize for the disruption to your lesson professor."
With that, he darted out of the room before Dumbledore had a chance to react. Grey barely had time to check the coast was clear before rapidly transforming into his raven form and taking off through an open window. Glancing back, he could see Dumbledore hurriedly scanning the empty corridor behind him.
Good, he thought. Let him be confused for once.
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Flying in the daytime was a whole new experience. Though his raven body ached just as much as his human one, he allowed himself to feel detached from it. Soaring around the many towers, he watched students move between classes. Like this, no one paid him a second thought. No one second-guessed who he was.
Diving towards the clock tower, Grey relished the feeling of the wind between his feathers, and the sensation of balance in the air. But as he swept around the great clock face, his sharp sight caught Dumbledore conversing with Sullivan in a secluded corner behind the painted clock face. With no glass in the windows there, Grey could easily listen to their conversation, he thought with triumph. Perhaps he'd finally get some answers.
Fling down, he found a perch on a nearby window ledge. The professors were speaking in hushed voices so his perch ended up being nearer than he'd have liked. But Grey reasoned there was no way they would recognize him in the form. So he listened confidently.
"Do you think they've been happening after every migraine?" Sullivan was asking Dumbledore.
Grey could have laughed. He had just known that they were talking about him.
Dumbledore stared on gravely. "No." he said thoughtfully, "No, it would have been more recent, maybe once or twice before today."
Sullivan ran a hand through his dark hair. "How can you be sure?"
An excellent question, thought Grey, focussing on Dumbledore's face. The man's expression, though grave, seemed to flash with some distant knowing like he could see an old friend standing just behind the nurse.
"Trust me, Charlie. Grey is not the first seer I've encountered." Dumbledore sighed.
"A seer, a real seer at Hogwarts," Sullivan muttered in disbelief.
Ruffling his feathers, Grey stared viciously at the two men. So that's what they thought he was. It was ridiculous. What he had witnessed were just pain-induced hallucinations, nothing more. Such things weren't unheard of. But a seer? It was impossible, they were just catastrophizing.
"He'll be in danger then?"
Grey's head snapped back to the professors at Sullivan's question.
"I fear so," Dumbledore sighed, looking around him in sadness, "But Hogwarts is the best place he could be. We can -"
He paused, eyes landing directly on the raven form of Grey. The boy shifted uncomfortably. He couldn't know, he just couldn't.
"Albus?"
Dumbledore turned his attention back to Sullivan.
"We can protect him." He gave the nurse a reassuring smile.
The nurse nodded solemnly. Grey watched them stand in silence for a moment before Sullivan excused himself, leaving Dumbledore alone. The professor sighed, before quickly composing himself. His eyes flashed back to Grey's raven form.
The boy felt his heart jolt. Dumbledore was giving him an amused look.
"You know, it's considered rude to eavesdrop Grey." He chuckled.
Panic consumed him.
How did he know?
Dumbledore suddenly flicked his wand at Grey and he felt his bones begin to extend. Hopping through the window with a panicked squawk, Grey began to change back into himself. After the brief transformation, he found himself standing tensely before his professor, whom he had fled from not long ago. His heart was pounding in his ears. This was the end of his education. Worse, his life. Being an unregistered animagus meant Azkaban.
Suddenly, Dumbledore chuckled.
"You don't have to look so terrified." He informed warmly, though Grey's focus was on the sadness still behind his eyes.
"How did you know?" Grey asked stiffly.
Dumbledore surveyed him with that same saddened smile.
"I'm rather skilled in legilimency." He shrugged.
Grey gulped at his words. Everything in him was itching to run and it brought him little comfort understanding that Dumbledore probably knew.
"Honestly I shouldn't be surprised. You were always particularly skilled in my class. I'm mainly curious how you didn't get caught." He chuckled to himself again.
Grey focused on the sensation of nails in the skin to keep his mind blank. He had to be so careful now. Maybe Dumbledore already knew his mind better than he did. Watching his professor closely, Grey remained silent.
Dumbledore's expression melted from one of kind curiosity, his eyes began to almost look past him, just like with Sullivan earlier, and his smile fell slowly from his lips.
"I know you heard our conversation, there's no use denying it." Dumbledore began softly, "So I know that you are now aware of what I think you are."
Grey opened his mouth to speak but his professor raised a hand, halting him.
"I also know that you will deny everything I say."
Grey wanted to glance away to avoid Dumbledore's knowing look but something prevented him. He held the man's gaze, ignoring the growing lump in his throat.
"But I need you to understand that I mean you no harm. My interest comes purely from a place of concern. All I want is for you to receive the help you deserve."
Tears were welling in Grey's eyes. Dumbledore's words sounded so genuine. The worst deceptions always did, he kept reminding himself.
Dumbledore continued calmly, "You don't trust me right now. That's ok. I understand."
His words were so careful, so gentle. This wasn't fair.
"So, to prove that you can: I will not reveal to anyone that you are an animagus. No one will find out from me. I promise."
He was lying. He wouldn't break the law just for some student. Finally, Grey managed to tear his eyes away from Dumbledore's, fixating on the ground. But he flinched when a hand gently landed on his shoulder.
"I'll see you in class Grey," Dumbledore muttered quietly.
Staring at his retreating form, Grey felt something heavy settle inside his ribcage. It seemed to pulse, sending waves of strange sullenness throughout all his limbs. Dumbledore was right - Grey didn't trust him.
How on earth could he? It's not like he could tell him why either. Life wasn't that simple, living had rules that everyone had to abide by, even Grey, so no matter how much he wanted to, he could tell no one the truth.
Besides, who in their right mind tells someone they have no idea how to trust someone? Because all their life they had been abused by those who were supposed to care for them. Grey couldn't say the reason he lied to everyone was just to protect himself, that at the orphanage if he didn't lie he'd be beaten and cursed and hexed ten times more than he already was.
Nothing came for free in this world and everybody wanted something. Grey knew that. It was practically his motto. And nobody ever really cared.
How could Grey tell Dumbledore that? The man would just lie back, just like everyone else.
But not Richard.
Grey rolled his eyes at the involuntary thought. He was sure Richard would leave him in the end too.
A few tears fell.
Still standing by the window, Grey took a deep breath of the cold winter air. Wiping his face and steeling his nerves, he made his way to the library where he was certain his friends would be waiting.