Blame
Slamming into a familiar table within the Hogs Head, Grey felt strangely numb. He wanted to experience every ounce of grief and guilt he deserved but it was like his insides had been rung dry of emotion.
He saw Newt first. The wizard slumped exhausted in a chair with a mixture of relief and horror on his face. It was curious to see such a rare expression. However, Grey had little time to study it as the two were instantly swarmed by half a dozen frantic people. Among the madness, he recognised the grumpy barkeep, Professor Elks, a tall man who bore a resemblance to Newt, Nurse Sullivan, a ministry official and of course, Dumbledore. Albus Dumbledore - his other father.
Grey wanted to feel something. But once again there was nothing.
Everyone was talking at once at him, at Newt. Questions were flying back and forth like wayward spells and Newt was doing his best to answer them. But Grey remained stoic and silent. Suddenly, Nurse Sullivan was grasping his arm, causing him to flinch, and leading him to a chair.
"Are you hurt?" He asked hurriedly, his Irish lilt laced with concern.
"I'm not hurt," Answered Grey in a mechanically monotonous tone.
Sullivan studied him closely, feeling his pulse.
'You're malnourished and sleep deprived." He sighed.
Grey let him force water into his hand and watched as he reported the health status to the group. Everyone seemed relieved. The man who bore a resemblance to Newt (Grey wondered if they were brothers) had his hands clasped on Newt's shoulders.
"Where's the other boy - Richard?" He asked urgently. He even sounded like Newt.
The assembled stared imploringly at Newt. But it was Grey that answered. His voice still sounded robotic.
"He's dead."
A stunned silence fell.
It was clear, nobody knew how to process what had been said. Elks was the first to react as he muttered a strained, "Oh God," and held his head in his hand. In unison, deep sadness washed across the faces of the group, all except Grey who still sat stoically on.
"Alright," Dumbledore murmured, "Everyone leaves."
Grey expected to feel distaste at the implication that he was to be alone with Dumbledore but still nothing arose. Immediately, Sullivan, Elks, and the barkeep complied, and an unsteady Newt. But the unnamed man and the ministry official didn't budge. An unusual, and rare stern look was sent to them from the professor.
"Theseus, please."
The younger man sighed and relented but the ministry one remained obstinate.
"We have jurisdiction to know everything Mr Willow says," He stated sharply.
In all honesty, Grey didn't give a shit if he stayed. But Dumbledore looked furious. He wasn't sure he'd ever seen Dumbledore angry.
"I don't care about your jurisdiction Travers. Leave, now." He ordered.
Travers glared at him, however, he reluctantly complied. They were left alone.
Taking a calming breath, Dumbledore approached and sat in the seat opposite Grey. There was a lapse of silence and Grey wondered if he was deciding what to say. When he finally settled on something, his voice returned to its usual calm tone.
"I'm sorry."
Grey was hardly surprised that had been his first choice of words. However, he was still confused, he could write an extensive list of all the things that Dumbledore could be apologising for.
"For what?" He asked blankly.
"So many things."
Grey looked away, spotting a large portrait on the adjacent wall. It depicted a pretty young girl with a somewhat sad expression. She was clutching a small bunch of flowers and observing them intently.
"Is that my aunt?" Grey remarked.
Beside him, he could tell that Dumbledore was thoroughly taken aback by his blunt question. It took a moment for him to compose himself.
"Yes, that is my sister, Ariana."
Grey looked away.
"What," Dumbledore paused, swallowing thickly, "What did he tell you?"
Grey had no energy to lie.
"That a few weeks after you made the blood pact, consequentially making me, you planned to leave together. Your brother tried to stop you. You tried to kill your brother but killed her instead."
Dumbledore inhaled sharply.
"Half the truth."
At his statement, Grey locked eyes with his father, hardly shocked to find tears swimming there.
"The first part was correct. And we did plan to leave. Aberforth disagreed and tried to stop us whilst Gellert taunted him. All three of us duelled. But I had no wish to kill him. None of us knew in the chaos, whose spell struck Ariana but we were all equally to blame."
The explanation was plausible to Grey. A tragic tale, as Grindelwald had accused but one that held as much blame on the evil man as any other. It was much more believable. Now those strings had been tied off in Grey's mind, he cast his eyes away from Dumbledore, having no more burning questions. But the wizard was clearly discontented with the silence.
"How did Richard die?" He asked solemnly.
Grey mused that now was probably the best time to ask such things because he knew he'd feel nothing when responding.
"He saved Newt. Grindelwald," The name was poison on his tongue, "Went to kill Newt but he jumped in front."
He heard Dumbledore sigh deeply at his words.
"He sacrificed himself," Dumbledore lamented.
Something stirred in Grey for the first time but he could not identify the feeling. However, it forced fiery words from his lips like the acid spit of a salamander.
"Because he was a better person than any of us."
Each word was tense and stern.
"Yes," Dumbledore concered.
But it wasn't enough.
"He was better than any of us," Grey repeated strenuously and he locked eyes with the professor again.
He noticed a few tears had fallen down the man's face. He envied them. The subtle stirring in him was blossoming into a rage but he didn't want it, he wanted to be sad, not angry. Angry was Grindelwald so he desperately swallowed it, breathing deeply.
"He was better than everyone." He murmured again as a mantra, "He was better than anything."
The rage dwindled back to the now comfortable numbness. He turned his attention back to Dumbledore, but he was surprised to find a pained look of understanding on his face.
"You loved him," He whispered.
It was a statement, not a question. But the answer came so naturally to Grey.
"I love him."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Grey remained silent as the others were brought back into the room. After his confession, Dumbledore had asked him more questions about the last month but Grey had just stared blankly at Ariana's portrait. It was like his soul had died on his lips with the words he had spoken.
Theseus, as it turned out, was in fact Newt's brother and Newt would be staying with him for a while until they could be sure that Grindelwald would not pursue them. The ministry official, Travers, was going to facilitate extra security at both the Scamander's home and Hogwarts.
Finally, the room was half as full as it had been with only Elks, Sullivan and Dumbledore remaining. Moments later, the barkeep returned, carrying a tray laden with a steaming teapot and five cups. Grey made the assumption the man would be joining them. As if answering his unspoken question, Dumbledore spoke.
"Grey, this is my brother, Aberforth. Your uncle," He explained.
Grey didn't respond. Awkwardly, Aberforth placed a cup of tea down beside him.
"Pleasure," He muttered gruffly, "Though I would have liked to be introduced under different circumstances."
It took a great deal of effort to simply nod in response. Grey hated that everyone was watching him. Several minutes of silence filled that room as they all drank their tea gravely. Grey wanted to skip back a month. All he could think was that he should never have let Richard join him in Austria.
"I think it's best if Grey stays in the hospital wing for a few days," Sullivan's sudden statement startled him, "He'll be bombarded with questions otherwise and that would be harmful." He continued.
"Good idea," Elks agreed firmly.
"What about classes?" Grey interjected suddenly.
Elks scoffed, "You can't seriously be thinking about schoolwork after the ordeal you've just endured."
"I need to keep busy," Grey insisted.
In all honesty, hours alone with his own thoughts posed a much greater threat to his health than homework. The only way he'd get through this is if he didn't think about it at all.
"We'll bring you assignments from all your classes," Dumbledore concluded.
"And I want my cat."
Sullivan made a noise of disapproval but Dumbledore shot him a stern look.
"Of course, she's been well cared for in your absence." He added.
At least that brought him a little comfort. He made a mental note to thank the young girl who had undertaken the task.
"How are we going to tell the boy's parents? There still waiting up at the school."
Grey's stomach dropped at Elks' question. He hadn't even considered that Richard's family would need to be informed. Everyone's eyes kept flickering to him and though he tuned out the following conversation, he could not shake their looks.
Twenty minutes later, the group was stirring, getting ready to return to the castle. As he heaved himself to his feet, Grey felt exhaustion sit like lead in his limbs. It took such effort to follow his teachers out of the pub. Aberforth grabbed his cloak as they traversed from the building and began to follow them through the village.
Inside, Grey knew this whole family business would inevitably be discussed but it just seemed so wrong to him. So far, his so-called family had been, quite frankly, abhorrent. Yes, before, Dumbledore had been very caring towards Grey, but he had just been his teacher - it was his job. He had no idea beyond Grindelwald, what a father was like. He thought it wise to be distrusting.
The trek back to Hogwarts was uncomfortably quiet. With every step, Grey felt he was having to drag his legs forward and the prospect of facing the truth when they arrived hardly spurred him to move faster. When the grey towers of Hogwarts drew closer, a dull melancholy settled in him and a thought struck his tired mind.
There was nothing here for him anymore.
No Derric. No Richard. What was Hogwarts without Richard - certainly not home.
The entrance hall was still and silent. It was maybe early afternoon yet it felt so much later. He could barely fathom how events had happened in a few short hours.
Grey flinched as a hand befell his shoulder.
"Let's get you up to the hospital wing," Dumbledore said calmly, "You can rest and we'll have a chat a bit later alright?"
It wasn't like Grey could refuse, so he just nodded, letting Dumbledore guide him towards the stairs. The idea of rest was intoxicating because all he wanted to do was shut off his whole body from the world.
However, it quickly became clear that the world had other ideas. Not a minute after their arrival, there was a great commotion in the corridor of the hall. A pair of unfamiliar people, clad in muggle clothes, came bursting into the room, glaring at the new arrivals. The man and woman strode over, eyes fixated on Dumbledore and Grey just as a breathless Prendergast sprinted in after them. The woman came to a furious halt in front of Grey, pinning him with the most vicious look he'd ever seen.
"Where is my son!?"