#ouathp

He appreciated all her help in preparing for the ball, with the dance lessons and everything. But her enthusiasm, while well meant, was just making him more nervous. So when he had realised she was trying to speak to him after breakfast he had pretended not to see her and headed straight for class. He suppressed a sigh when she separated from her friends and called out to him. He turned to greet her with a smile, she was his best friend after all, even when she was getting on his nerves.

“Graham, do you have a moment, there’s ah...something I need to tell you.” Snow sounded nervous and he was starting to think this had nothing to do with Emma or the Ball.

“Of course Snow.” He was intending to make use of the NEWT potion lab time scheduled later, but he didn't have another class until Earth Magic that afternoon. “What’s wrong?”

She looked around to make sure they were alone and now he was even more concerned. Snow wasn’t exactly known for her discretion. She didn't have a malicious bone in her body, however sometimes her faith in people led her to being a little too trusting. But then that was part of why they were friends, she saw the best in people where he saw the worst.

“Professor Jones was looking for me yesterday. He insisted on joining me on a walk and when he did he was asking about you.” Oh for goodness sake, he had just been passed out, was the professor so worried he was going to say something that he felt the need for all this. Looking up his file, talking to Snow. He had half a mind to head straight for the tower to tell the man that he had no intention of telling anyone, if he wanted to drink himself unconscious on his night off that was his business.

“He said he might know something about your family, what happened to you, why you were abandoned.” And just like that his thoughts ground to a halt. He hadn’t seen that one coming at all. He was so surprised he didn't even say anything about Snow’s use of the word family to refer to those who had no right to the title.

He realised she was still talking even if he couldn't make out the words, though from her tone, she seemed to think this was good news. He somehow managed to say something in response, he had no clue what, but it must have been appropriate as Snow gave him a quick hug before rushing off to her next class.

He left the classroom in a daze. He was drowning in emotions he hadn't felt since he was a first year. Until had come to Hogwarts he hadn’t known there was anything unusual about his upbringing. But then everything had changed. He had met other humans for the first time and while they had mainly been kind, that was not all there was to them.

One of the first human emotions he had learned to recognise was pity.

He watched all the parents see their children onto the train with hugs and kisses and well meant words. He’d listened to the children talk about how they were going to miss their families and he had started to understand how different he was.

Then he had got to school and the questions had started, asking him about his family, his home, and he had told the truth, not seeing any reason to do otherwise. Reactions had varied, some pitying, some scared, some cruel, but all leaving him with the question of why he was different. What had been wrong with him that the people who were supposed to love him the most had not wanted him at all.

But he’d had so much else to concentrate on that term that he hadn't even really noticed as the hurt turned to anger. But slowly it did, and before he knew it, thinking about his human family no longer caused him to feel anything but fury and disdain for them. He swore the only family he would recognise would be his pack. But he never caught the train from Kings Cross again.

For a while the anger had ruled him, very nearly getting him expelled, but with Granny’s help he had found better ways of handling his rage. And over the years it had faded, not gone, but pushed down to where he barely remembered it. But now it had all been dredged back up again and he could feel the fury rising in him as if the last six years had never happened. And beneath the reawakened anger, was the pain that had originally sparked it.

He had been wandering idly for a while when he decided to head for the potions lab, he couldn't really afford to miss the lab time and he hoped the concentration that brewing required would help distract him and keep his mind off this new information.

He didn't really notice the boy who got in his way until he suddenly came back to himself to realise he had thrown him against a wall and had a knife at the boy’s throat. He backed away in horror and tore out of the dungeons as fast as he could. He was shaking, he couldn't believe how close he had come, he hadn’t lost control like that since he was a first year. Damn Jones for shaking his composure like that, he had fought too hard for it to sacrifice it now.

He barely made it to Earth Magic and found himself wishing he hadn’t when he was held back after class, the boy he had attacked earlier having reporting him to the professor. But talking to Thornwood helped, it calmed down and he owed the professor for that. He didn't think anyone else would have been able to bring him back from the edge like that. After their conversation he felt more at peace. he was still angry angry and hurt, but that was no longer all he could focus on, and he didn't feel so at risk of violently exploding at anyone.

News of his fight with the fourth year had spread quickly, he could tell in the way the students avoided him, the looks, the whispers. He could hear them talking about how he was a dangerous animal, a reminder of how he was never quite human to them. It hurt more than it had during his first year, he understood it more, and to go back to that after having gained at least some form of acceptance, was difficult. But the distance that he was being given at least gave him time to think through everything with a calmer head.

And the main thing he was then was confused. He just couldn't think of any reason for Jones to know anything like that about him. What they knew about his past was all in his file, which Jones would have had access to. But the professor had never shown him any particular interest that would cause him to go searching for the answers Graham never had.

But then Jones was not an easy person to read.

He had never expected Astronomy to become a favourite class, particularly after the first year, where the combination of what, to him, felt like useless information combined with a teacher that had hated him, had made it his most loathed class. But Jones had always put a lot of focus on the practical uses of his subject, navigation, timekeeping, and what wasn't practical he at least tried to make interesting. It didn’t hurt that the classes were often outside at night, which for someone raised in the wild to be nocturnal, was when he was most at ease.

He had wondered before why the man had decided to become a teacher. He was a good one, but it seemed an unusual choice for someone like him. He didn't seem to fit here, in much the same way Graham himself didn’t. He couldn’t understand why a man with an obvious affinity for open space and travel would chose to stay in one place so long. It just didn't fit with his character, at least as far as Graham could see.

And there was the drinking, the man was rarely sober. Graham had never understood why someone would deliberately dull their senses like that. But then too much of his life was spent where his reactions were the only thing standing between him and death. Humans drank to forget and he may not know what pain it was that drove him to spend so much time inebriated, but Jones never endangered others with his actions, so as far as Graham was concerned, his business was his own.

When Jones finally approached him he was expecting answers and instead he got a random, if interesting, request and an oddly personal conversation. He might have expected to be angry again, but somehow whatever it was he was feeling wasn't quite anger. He was annoyed and still somewhat curious, but at this point he was just so tired of the whole thing he couldn’t seem to find the energy for anger. It was all just too much, too draining, bringing back too many bad memories and dark emotions he thought he had buried. He wanted it to be over, or just forget about it, but it seemed like that was another luxury he would be denied.

Firenze was as frustrating to speak to as ever, but he just brushed it off, it was nothing new to him. He might have stayed in that disconnected state if not for the nightmare. Thoughts of his pack were never too far from his mind, but time had dulled the memory as it always did. But he did still relive that awful day in his sleep sometimes and when he did, it made it feel like it had been only yesterday. It was surprising that such a memory hadn’t been triggered earlier but he knew better than to question his good fortune in avoiding them so far.

But that run of luck had ended and in doing so had torn down the wall between him and his emotions, putting him right back on edge, ready to tear apart the first person who crossed him. Not a good mood to be in the day he was charged with escorting Jones into the forest.