By the following evening, Grey could bare his isolation no longer. The sky was dark and starless but the curfew was still not for another hour and a half so he designated the time to track down his wayward friend.
The last lesson of the day had been potions, which Richard had spent on the opposite side of the dungeon classroom. However, Prendergast had set them a particularly nasty lengthen essay for homework, which was due the coming Friday so Grey felt fairly confident that Richard would be making a start in the library.
He knew his friend well. For one, he never left homework to the night before if he could help it, so that ruled out Thursday evening, and tomorrow, his class had their fortnightly astronomy lesson. Richard always had a nap before it so he wouldn't be able to do the assignment tomorrow. Thus, he had to be in the library today.
The corridors were extremely cold that evening as a vicious northern wind blew around the castle. As he made his way, Grey could hear the faint pattering of rain begin to hit the window pains. The sound almost kept in time with his rapidly beating heart and fast-paced footsteps. To an outward eye, anyone could see the strained urgency in Grey's stance.
Before his second year, loneliness had just been a natural part of his life - the miscast orphan. Born to no one, with a soul eternally trapped in the wrong body, isolation was practically Grey's shadow.
Yet when Richard came into his life, it was like he'd found a part of himself that had been missing. It didn't matter that they didn't talk much. The simple act of existing in tandem was enough for the two boys. And since Derric-
It was like he'd lost two fundamental parts of himself. The absence left by Derric would never go, it may get smaller but Grey knew his loss would stay with him forever. But the loss of Richard had left a void, a vacuum, consuming each other part of Grey, slowly and painfully. He needed Richard. He needed him more than he needed anyone and for once he didn't care that he didn't know why.
Arriving at the library seemed to momentarily draw all the breath from Grey's body. He paused at the entrance, chewing the inside of his cheek. He had no idea how this would go or if Richard was even here. These worries could be answered though. Steeling himself, Grey entered.
The quiet booths between the shelves were filled with a myriad of students. Shifting awkwardly between the masses, Grey hurried to their usual spot, and his heart lept at the sight.
Lo and behold, Richard was there. His shoulders were bent forward as he lent over a large book and he kept reaching up to push back his unkempt dark hair. It was getting long, Grey noted as he paused behind a shelf.
It took him a few minutes to work up the courage to approach, his heart was beating so fast he thought he might pass out before he reached the table. But then, he suddenly felt ready.
"Richard?" He whispered, rounding the shelf that had been his hideout.
The Slytherin boy's eyes snapped sharply up to meet his.
"Richard can we talk-"
But his plea was cut short when once again, Richard rose quickly and stormed silently past him, out of the library. Part of him wanted to give up right there, as the absence in his chest swelled painfully, but then he thought of Derric. He wouldn't want them divided. He wouldn't want them hurt. As hard as it was to think of Derric, the sentiment emboldened him just enough.
With only the briefest hesitation, Grey tore out of the library. He sped after Richard's retreating form, eventually pushing his way in front of him. Richard tried to duck past him but Grey shifted to block his path.
"I'm done with this, just fucking talk to me." He blurted out, not bothering to hold back his feelings.
He couldn't anymore, not with Richard.
The Slytherin boy scowled.
"Move out of my way Grey," He growled, failing once again to get past Grey's barricade.
"No."
"Grey,"
But he ignored the low warning tone and blocked his escape attempt again. Anger was flashing in Richard's eyes now but he refused to let it faze him.
"I'm not letting you pass until we have a proper conversation," Grey stated plainly.
He noticed Richard's fists clench.
"No. Move." The Slytherin hissed.
But Grey didn't.
"I understand you're grieving. I am too, but Derric-"
He was cut off as Richard grasped his collar and pinned him forcefully against the wall, nose inches from his.
"How dare you say his name!" Richard seethed, pressing him harder into the stone.
Their bodies were pressed so closely together, Grey could swear that Richard's heartbeat was dancing with his own.
"Richard-"
"How dare you! You dragged me along, just to watch-" Richard's voice cracked, "You're sick, you planned- how could you! He was our friend!"
Tears brimmed in the Slytherin's eyes as his hands trembled.
But Grey's heart had broken. Richard thought he did it on purpose. Richard thought he wanted-
His own tears rose to his eyes.
"That's not what happened," He mumbled as water leaked down his face.
Malice twisted across Richard's grief-stricken face.
"Really?" He spat.
With those words, it dawned on Grey that he didn't care if Grindelwald found him. Richard was more important than him. Dumbledore didn't have to know.
"I saw it," Grey admitted through his tears.
"What?" Richard was crying now too but the anger was still present on his face.
"In the hall, I had a vision. I saw it. I wanted to stop it so I grabbed you but it was too late, I was too late." He confessed, gripping the hands that were holding him.
Richard's face was consumed by an expression Grey recognized well. He was analyzing, and piecing together facts to form a full picture.
"The headaches, Dumbledore's interest, Prendergast's questions." He listed hoarsely, his grip loosening.
"I'm a seer."
Richard took a step back, eyes wide with horror. His hands were still clasped in Greys.
"So you didn't-it was just?"
Grey nodded at his disjointed questions, knowing exactly what he was trying to ask.
He watched Richard's face crumple and without a moment's thought, he surged forward, engulfing his friend in his arms. Richard sobbed into his shoulder as his own tears continued to fall.
"I'm sorry," Grey mumbled.
Richard just gripped him tighter. Another phrase rose instinctually to Grey's lips, but he didn't utter it. This was not the time for that.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
United in their grief, the two boys became more inseparable than ever. Grey was surprised at how receptive Richard was to his secret. On top of everything he half expected his friend to disregard the new information. But instead, Richard insisted on studying it in as much detail as possible. Grey suspected he was using it as a distraction.
However, they did talk about Derric, in fact, they talked a great deal more than they had before. It was the only way to fill the hole left behind. Every spare moment was spent together, but they had not returned to their room of requirements hang-out spot. Both boys agreed that the particular rendition of the room should be left untouched as a memorial to Derric.
Neither of them had been invited to the funeral. Grey was hardly surprised given the malicious rumors around his death but he could tell Richard was disappointed. Most people in the school seemed convinced that Grey had intentionally distracted Derric, wanting him to fall and Grey couldn't exactly explain his side of the story.
But what had previously been a small collective of haters had now swelled to encompass half the school. He couldn't go anywhere without a harsh comment or stray tripping jinx. Richard was a great help but there was only so much he could do. Grey's old itches to fight were plaguing him now more than ever but as Richard reminded him - retaliating would only fuel their beliefs more. So Grey swallowed back all his vicious emotions just like always. And it wasn't the only thing he was suppressing.
The Friday after Grey and Richard made up, the two boys were making their way to lunch after a dull History of Magic class. Though their moods were consistently lower these days, they endeavored to talk more to keep their spirits up. That afternoon, Richard was quizzing him vigorously on the manifestation of his visions.
"As I said, it's just the headache, no tingling or tiredness," Grey reiterated in a hushed tone.
Richard frowned, glancing down at the library book open in his arms.
"Are you sure?"
Grey groaned.
"It's just, every account in Rhackam's book covers more than headaches." Insisted Richard quietly.
"That book was written in the 1400s." Grey sighed, remembering the volume from his frantic post-vision study session.
"Grey,"
He resisted the urge to roll his eyes at Richard's demanding tone.
"Fine, um, Dumbledore mentioned something about my eyes turning white?" He suggested.
A satisfied expression overtook Richard's features.
"Excellent, that makes more sense. I wonder which bloodline you descend from."
Grey doubted he was descended from any bloodline. If he was a seer-blooded wizard, why had his parents just abandoned him on a road in Godric's Hollow?
"Do you have to be descended from a bloodline to be a seer?" He asked dejectedly.
Richard flicked through some pages.
"Yes, I believe so, it says here that seers can't manifest without 'ancestral power'." He recited.
"Again, written in the 1400s."
Richard slammed the book shut.
"Why are you so resistant to all this?" He demanded.
Grey sighed, "I didn't ask for this, nor do I want it."
"Yes, well, that's beyond your control so you might as well try to understand it." Richard huffed, placing the book back in his bag.
Grey scratched his arms.
Rounding a corner, a large group of first years parted comically to let them pass, whispering anxiously to themselves.
Richard scoffed, "It's ridiculous how scared everyone is of you. Don't they know how many fights you lost last year?"
"Shut up!" Grey exclaimed with a grin, shoving Richard.
"Watch out mudblood, she might be trying to kill you too." A voice snarled from their left.
Grey whipped around so swiftly that Richard nearly walked into him. Malfoy was lent against a wall flanked by Rookwood and Macmillen. His wand was already in his hand. Grey wanted to reach for this but Richard grabbed his arm.
"Don't." He whispered.
Reluctantly, Grey obeyed, glaring at Malfoy.
"Plotting your next victim Willow?" Rookwood laughed foully.
Part of him wanted to say yes just to goad them but he didn't want to disappoint Richard so he remained silent.
"Leave us alone Abraxas, we're just going to lunch," Richard remarked politely.
Malfoy laughed loudly at his comment.
"So formal mudblood," He sniggered, "I'm just trying to watch out for my fellow students."
Grey tasted blood in his mouth from his chewed cheek.
"Let's just go Grey." Richard sighed, tugging Grey towards the great hall.
But as soon as Grey's back was turned, something hit him and his legs fused together, sending him tumbling to the floor. Ready to spit fire, Grey swiveled towards the group's obnoxious laughter when a welcome voice called above them.
"Detention Malfoy, and ten points from Slytherin. No spells in the corridors," Professor Elks exclaimed sternly.
He counterjinxed the leg-locking hex that imprisoned Grey and strode past, sending a kind smile in the Ravenclaw's direction. But as Richard helped him to his feet, Grey was silently fuming. He decided at that moment that he didn't care about fate, prophecy, or rumor. He would not be a seer. He didn't care what he had to do to suppress it or the consequences he might face. The stupid ability had brought him to this torturous existence. So henceforth, Grey Willow would never be a seer.