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.
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GREY WINGS || A Hogwarts Story
Fanfiction"Can't you see, feel what you are doing to yourself?" the professor muttered. "It's just pain." The year is 1927 and young Grey Willow is about to start his 5th year at Hogwarts. Tensions in the wizarding world are at an all-time high, following th...
