The Magizoologist
An hour later, Grey had changed out of his robes and into more comfortable clothes. He'd opted for a waistcoat and blazer rather than one of Richard's jumpers and Dumbledore has advised against any recognizable options.
His professor had assured him that Newt Scamander was an extremely trustworthy individual and he needn't worry about being discovered but Grey was anxious all the same. He had never been notoriously good at social interaction.
When he was ready, he propped open his window and transformed into his animagus form. Prompted by Dumbledore's words a few weeks ago, he glanced at his reflection in his mirror before leaving. There was indeed a white patch of feathers above his beak. It was probably mimicking the white streak in his hair. His raven eyes were also grey just as Dumbledore had said which gave him an almost frightening aura.
Satisfied by this, Grey took off threw his window. The air was incredibly cold and he puffed out his feathers as he swerved between the towers. With his excellent vision, he spied Dumbledore strolling across the bridge toward the road. Grey dived. The wind was refreshing as he came to flap beside the professor, giving a low croak to announce his presence.
"Hello, Grey," He beamed.
Grey ducked and swerved alongside his teacher as they continued toward the village. The snow on the road was practically ice so it was a slow trek.
As they proceeded, Dumbledore would occasionally watch him with amusement as he got bored and did peculiar twists in the air. When the snow-topped rooves of Hogsmeade became visible ahead, Dumbledore stopped suddenly. Grey landed at his feet, glancing up at him.
"When we get into the village, I planned to meet Newt at The Three Broomsticks," He explained in a hushed tone, "But with you here that won't be a safe location. However, I can get us a private room at the Hog's Head."
Grey ruffled his feathers, he'd never been to the Hog's Head.
"Until we get into that room, it won't be wise to change back but they won't just let a random bird into the establishment, so I'll have to pretend you're a pet. Is that ok?"
Grey nodded which must have looked strange from a bird because Dumbledore chuckled.
"Excellent! Newt will understand, of course, he's a wonderful chap." Dumbledore remarked as he set off again.
Rounding the next corner, Grey saw the beginnings of the little wizard settlement on the road ahead, so he flew down to perch upon Dumbledore's shoulder. He tried to look as naturally birdlike as possible as they entered the village. Thankfully, few people paid them much mind aside from a couple of scattered greetings from passersby.
Approaching The Three Broomsticks, Grey saw a young wizard standing tensely outside. He was quite tall but with a slumped stature and he was dressed in a dark blue trenchcoat and a neat grey suit. A dented suitcase was grasped in one hand which puzzled Grey. Dumbledore hadn't mentioned he was to stay in the village.
Newt Scamander nervously brushed some snow out of his sandy hair and glanced around the street. His eyes lit up and a cheerful smile broke across his face as he spotted Dumbledore.
"Newt, it is wonderful to see you!" Dumbledore exclaimed, clasping his hand.
"It's good to see you too Dumbledore," Newt responded in a somewhat anxious tone when suddenly his eyes fixated on Grey.
"That is a very peculiar raven you've got there. Are they magical? I've never seen markings like that. Are they a pet?" He rambled, reaching up to touch Grey who awkwardly shifted away from his hand.
Seeing this, Scamander withdrew his advance. Dumbledore chuckled at the exchange.
"In a way," He smirked, "If you'd follow me I will explain everything."
Scamander looked confused.
"I thought-" He gestured toward The Three Broomsticks.
"Change of plan."
And Dumbledore took off down a backstreet heading in the direction of the Hog's Head. Behind them, Scamander hastened to follow, muttering to himself. Before reaching the Hog's Head, Dumbledore unexpectedly ducked into a shadowy alleyway and Scamander almost walked straight past them.
"Dumbledore!" He exclaimed exasperatedly as the professor caught his arm and tugged him into the alley, "What's going on?"
"Newt, I need you to understand the seriousness of today's meeting. I will be discussing things that will endanger you if others find out." Dumbledore whispered sternly.
"I understand but I'm confused, you said-"
But Dumbledore didn't give him a chance to finish, hurrying out of the shadows and into the pub. Grey shuffled awkwardly on his shoulder. He was beginning to suspect that his invitation was not a passing thought.
The interior of the pub was almost as cold as the outside, and even some of the stacked glasses looked to have a layer of frost atop the dust. a few peculiar patrons were bundled in shawls around grimy tables but none acknowledged their entry. Even the barkeep, a young man with a dark expression took a moment to register their arrival. When he did, his face seemed to darken even more with displeasure.
Despite this, Dumbledore greeted him with a warm smile.
"Is the back room available?" He inquired amiably.
The man eyed them suspiciously but nodded.
"Any drinks?" He grumbled in a gravelly tone.
"Two butterbeers, thank you."
Dumbledore placed a couple of coins on the counter, grabbed their drinks, and proceeded round a corner into what Grey assumed was 'the back room'. In reality, it looked more like the barkeep's own dining area.
Once Scamander had entered, Dumbledore shut the door and muttered a spell at it. A strange semi-translucent sheen now glimmered across the doorway. Fluttering off Dumbledore's shoulder, Grey perched on the back of a chair, peering imploringly at the professor. He was waiting for the go-ahead to change back because Scamander's curious glances were starting to make him uncomfortable. But no word from his teacher came. Both men took their seats opposite one another, shedding their coats.
"Dumbledore, what's going on?" Scamander huffed, still eying Grey.
Dumbledore smiled, "I will explain everything very soon but first,"
With a wave of his wand, a third butterbeer materialized in front of Grey's perch.
"You may change back now Grey." He added.
If ravens were capable, Grey would have sighed with relief. He transformed back, much to the surprise of Scamander. As the young man gaped, Dumbledore produced Grey's wand from his pocket and handed it to him. Upon his advice, he had entrusted it to his professor as he wasn't able to carry it as a bird. Pocketing it, he took the free seat between the two men.
"Newt Scamander, this is a student of mine - Grey Willow." Dumbledore introduced.
"A student? And you're an animagus? You can't be older than sixteen!" The wizard rambled.
Grey gave him an awkward smile as his teacher laughed.
"Yes, it gave me quite a shock too."
Scamander was studying Grey closely when he seemed to realize what he was doing.
"Sorry, call me Newt." He said offering his hand.
Grey shook it not missing the subtle glance Newt cast at his scarred palm.
"Grey." He muttered.
"Grey is actually the reason I wished to meet with you today." Dumbledore continued.
Grey resisted the urge to glare at his professor.
"In your letter, you said you'd found the thing Grindelwald most wanted. I thought it was the Hallows like you said before." Newt frowned.
"And I did think that," Dumbledore glanced apologetically at Grey, "But recent developments have led me to believe otherwise. Yes, he wants the Hallows but he stands no hope of obtaining them without Grey."
Grey felt incredibly uncomfortable now. Dumbledore spoke as if he knew the dark wizard well and judging by the expression on Newt's face, he knew this.
"But he's just a child Dumbledore." Newt blurted out.
"So was Credence."
Despair drowned Newt's features at the professor's words. Dumbledore took the silence as an invitation to continue.
"Grey is a seer."
He froze, hearing his teacher so casually spill his most threatening secret.
"He is a true seer and the one Tycho Dodonus' final prophecy speaks of. A prophecy that Grindelwald is very much aware of."
His words were steeped in severity that froze the very blood in Grey's veins. Yet the commiserating look that Newt fixed him with still made his insides squirm.
"When he finds out, he will seek out Grey just as he sought out Credence." Dumbledore continued.
Newt shifted uncomfortably in his chair.
"Why are you telling me this?" He ventured to ask.
Grey could hear the hesitation in his voice.
"Several reasons, firstly because I want you to be kept in the loop."
Newt scoffed in disbelief.
"And secondly because if the time comes that Grey needs protecting or rescuing from beyond the walls of Hogwarts, I would trust you most to help me undertake such a task."
The momentary disbelief subsided from Newt's face, quickly being replaced with an ominous expression. His eyes flicked to the tense form of Grey as the silence seemed to stretch between them. Grey had never felt so uncomfortable as this occurred. Being brought here just as a poster boy for Dumbledore's request.
Finally, an awkward, somewhat hesitant smile befell Newt's face.
"I suppose I should get to know you a bit," He said towards Grey.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Dumbledore smile.
"I really like your book," Grey offered sounding equally as awkward as the magizoologist.
Something seemed to relax in Newt's features.
"Oh! thank you. Are you a fan of magical creatures?" He asked quickly.
Grey nodded before actually considering his answer. Magical creatures weren't his life's passion but he was quite fond of them.
"Do you have a favourite?" Newt asked.
"Thestrals," Then Grey realized how unusual his answer probably sounded so he hastily added, "But I really like bowtruckles too."
Thankfully, Newt didn't seem put off by his answer in the slightest, instead, his smile grew.
"I've never met anyone else who likes thestrals, and bowtruckles are excellent, very skilled lock pickers did you know?"
Something ached inside Grey. The way Newt talked about creatures reminded him of how Derric used to speak of quidditch. Newt didn't seem to notice his change in expression as he continued.
"Pickett here," He said, drawing a spindly green creature from his pocket casually, "Has got me out of many tight corners."
Grey gaped at the little green bowtruckle with fascination. He'd never seen one up close. Newt certainly was a fascinating wizard. Pickett eyed Grey with a hilarious amount of suspicion, clinging to Newt.
"He's amazing," Grey breathed in awe, his awkwardness momentarily melting away.
"Yes, he is. Ironically, I actually found him in a willow tree." Newt added.
A faint smile passed Grey's lips and he heard Dumbledore chuckle beside him. Gently reaching toward Pickett, he watched with childlike delight as the bowtruckle cautiously detached himself from Newt and approached Grey's hand. It prodded his outstretched palm with its sharp twig-like fingers before scurrying on. He saw Newt smile as Pickett clambered up his arm and began messing with the hair on his neck.
"He likes you." Newt smiled.
"I like him," Grey mumbled wistfully, thoroughly distracted by the little green creature.
"How would be best to contact each other regarding Grey? We cannot be sure the usual means aren't being monitored." He asked.
Dumbledore thought for a moment.
"Are you familiar with patronus communication?" He suggested.
Newt nodded. "Is Grey?"
Hearing Newt say his name, Grey glanced up from Pickett. Gently he directed the bowtruckle back to his owner.
"Pardon?" He mumbled politely.
Both men exchanged a smile.
"Do you know the Patronus charm, Grey?" Dumbledore asked.
Grey actually was familiar with the magic, he and Richard often practised ahead of their year's syllabus.
"Yes, although I've never been able to produce a corporeal Patronus."
"Why don't we practice?" Newt suggested.
But Grey felt unsure, he wasn't certain he'd be able to draw on a happy enough memory given the current state of things. Dumbledore noticed his crestfallen expression.
"I can work on it with Grey at school." He remarked and Newt seemed satisfied with that.
"Alright, anything we need to say regarding Grey can go via Patronus," He recited.
Something shifted in Dumbledore's pocket again, and the three watched in varying stages of surprise as the silver vial rose again, hovering above the table. Grey noticed that Newt seemed familiar with the item. The three observed as once again it drifted lazily toward Grey's forehead.
"Dumbledore-" Newt muttered.
"Yes, it's happened before." The professor answered his unspoken question. His voice was uncertain.
But Grey felt excited, once again experiencing that sense of pull toward it. The item almost radiated nostalgia to the boy. Without even realizing it, Grey reached toward the point of the trinket. Beside him, both men shifted anxiously, watching.
A strong wave of warmth washed over Grey as his finger touched the cold silver.
"Dumbledore," Newt warned.
The professor grasped the item from out of the air.
"What is it?" Grey whispered almost wistfully as disappointment filled him again.
The wizards exchanged an unreadable glance.
"Nothing important," Surmised Dumbledore.
But Grey didn't believe him.
He had not the courage to argue, however, especially not in front of a new acquaintance. Newt was surveying him suspiciously though and Grey thought he almost resembled his bowtruckle.
"I should probably get Grey back to the castle.' Dumbledore stated, suddenly rising from his seat.
"If you give me your wand, I'll have it sent over to your dorm Grey."
Standing, grey complied, feeling disheartened that their meeting was suddenly over. The three butterbeers were still untouched on the table.
"It was lovely to see you Newt, stay in touch." He added, beaming at Scamander.
The two shook hands.
"You too, Dumbledore. It was wonderful to meet you, Grey." Newt smiled.
Grey shook his hand too, nodding. Then, he transformed back into a raven, perching again on Dumbledore's shoulder.
As they exited the pub, with a final wave, Newt Scamander disapparated and Dumbledore began silently leaving the village. When Hogsmeade was safely behind them, Grey took off from his professor's shoulder, flying just above him. The man peered up at him.
"I think you made an excellent impression on Newt, well done." He stated kindly.
Grey croaked in response. He was very glad it did not convey his emotions because he was very suspicious towards Dumbledore at present. It felt like there were a great many things he wasn't being told.
When the castle came into view, Grey hastened away. By the time he returned to his room, it was icy cold so he shut the window and bundled under his covers to warm up, pondering the meeting.
He wished Richard was speaking to him, not only for obvious reasons but also because he was brilliant at solving mysteries. Half an hour later, a glaring third year dropped off his wand, reminding Grey once again of his current status.
Many lonely hours followed.