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Roger's alarmed realization that Harry Potter really was on the roof of the castle made time stutter for Grant and his stomach turn to ice. There was no reason to be on the roof of a tower, not unless...
Grant flew with the rest of the team as they approached the tower, approached Potter, and with only a few shared glances, the team allowed Grant to take point. "Alright there, Potter?"
Potter's answer was not reassuring. The words were meant to be, of course, but his tone... and the look on his face... Potter was quiet and melancholy and oddly calm in that half-present way Grant remembered from when...
Potter's eyes flickered assessingly toward the ground as he answered, and with another alarmed glance around, Grant saw the team settle into a circle below them. Someone would be able to catch Potter if he tried to jump.
The astronomy tower, with its low walls to improve visibility, had clever, intent-based wards preventing anything going over the edge. A student who tripped, or any telescopes or personal effects knocked over by clumsy students would just bounce off the wards and back into the tower. Any personal effects that a bully tried to toss over the edge would get stuck within the wards, and could be retrieved by anyone but the person who dropped them, most often a teacher or the student whose belongings they were. Likewise, anyone who tried to jump, as Adam had discovered, found themselves stuck until someone else, usually a teacher, pulled them back to safety.
If there were any such wards on Gryffindor tower, they must only be on the windows, but Potter didn't appear to have a broom so Grant supposed the windows didn't have wards at all, since Potter had probably crawled out of one and climbed up to the roof. How else would he have gotten up here?
Basically, Grant couldn't assume there was any protection in place besides his team. But at least the team was here.
With that reassurance, Grant flew up, a little closer, offering Potter a ride to the ground.
He couldn't help his sigh of relief when Potter settled behind him on the broom, making no moves to unbalance himself.
The rest of the team escorted them promptly and safely to the ground in silent understanding. Either that, or the team followed Roger's lead in escorting Grant and Potter safely down. It didn't matter. The effect was the same. Grant took strength from their presence and companionship - especially Roger's. It was going to be rough when Roger graduated. Adam should be a seventh year with Roger, his best friend, and while plenty of the Ravenclaws had done their research to understand, after the fact, what Adam had been going through, Roger was the only one to really understand what Grant was going through as his brother. Roger had been nearly as upset as Grant had, and they supported each other even now.
Grant forced those musings from his head. They delivered Potter safely to the ground, and Grant immediately insisted Potter go to the hospital wing. He hardly paid attention as he handed his broom to his nearest teammate, Samuels. Grant wasn't entirely surprised when Potter resisted, and feigned ignorance. He insisted again. He would physically escort Potter if necessary. Potter flinched under his friendly touch, looking ready to flee. Grant wouldn't let Potter hide away to try again. He couldn't.
Potter had been acting off nearly all term, Grant realized in hindsight. He'd been less quick to anger, more settled in his skin... But Grant knew from unfortunate experience that a change like that wasn't always a good sign. Had Potter actually given up months ago?
Somehow, it was even worse when Potter quit feigning ignorance. "You guys think I was trying to jump," he observed, still too calm. As if there was any other explanation for him to be on top of Gryffindor tower without a broom. Grant swallowed a lump in his throat. Adam had been emotional: angry, guilty, and apologetic, when they pulled him free from the wards. He hadn't been this calmly blunt until the day he'd...
Behind them, Roger swore. "I had no idea it was this bad." Grant hadn't known either, though he was starting to feel like he should've. He steered Potter inside.
Pomfrey had, reluctantly, after much pleading, released Adam into their parents' care for Christmas break. They'd kept him away from heights, and from homework, (but it hadn't occurred to anyone to keep him from his wand) and Grant had believed him when he said their hovering was upsetting him worse.
Grant wasn't letting Potter out of his sight. He wasn't making the same mistake again.
He didn't pry when Potter lied badly about what was up with the portraits. Something he'd done in his self-destructive fugue had them spooked, probably. Grant didn't care enough. He wasn't going to upset Potter in any unnecessary ways right now. It didn't matter anyway. The only thing that mattered was that the kid wasn't a danger to himself. He would get him to Pomfrey and she would keep an eye on him.
But then Dumbledore escorted Potter away. He hadn't seemed nearly concerned enough when Grant told him where they'd found Potter, but he was the Headmaster and he'd given Grant points for helping, and Grant was just a student and maybe... maybe the Headmaster was also trying to soften his reactions to avoid upsetting Potter worse, Grant reassured himself. He could only hope that's what was going on.
As soon as Potter and Dumbledore vanished around a corner, the moment the kid was out of sight, the entire weight of the afternoon hit Grant so suddenly that he had to brace himself against the wall. He could feel himself trembling.
Potter had tried to jump.
Potter had tried to kill himself and Grant had let him out of his sight and...
Roger's hand on his shoulder was a grounding force that brought him back to the present.
"Let's get you to the infirmary," he muttered, soft enough not to draw attention against the speculation that loudly followed in Potter's wake. "You're hyperventilating, and we can wait for Potter there and make sure he shows up."
Grant nodded, weakly, and let himself be led to the empty infirmary.
Pomfrey, predictably, plied him with a calming draught and a warm blanket and let him wait in one of the guest chairs until curfew. She listened to his account of the afternoon and promised to help Potter as soon as he arrived.
Potter never showed. Neither did Dumbledore.
Five minutes after curfew, Pomfrey wrote them a note, and Grant let Roger escort him back to Ravenclaw tower. He followed numbly, the cold pit in his stomach slowly bubbling into rage. Why hadn't Dumbledore brought Potter to the infirmary? Why hadn't he at least told Pomfrey about Potter's interrupted attempt? If Grant hadn't been so determined to see Potter in good care, she wouldn't have known at all.
That night, Grant dreamed, memories blurring together into nightmares. He dreamed of Adam, sitting so casually on Gryffindor tower, speaking Potter's words. "You think I was trying to jump," Adam said, as he sat there, looking numb and tired.
"If it was truly an accident, Mr. Page, you wouldn't have been caught in the wards," Pomfrey's voice said sadly, for they were in the infirmary with Adam sitting in a bed he'd been spelled not to leave, while Adam argued fiercely that it was all a misunderstanding.
On his broom, Grant dove after a body falling from Gryffindor tower, but he was too far above, he couldn't catch them and then Adam hit the ground and Grant was bursting into Adam's bedroom, his mother two steps behind (after the sudden, terrible realization that they had forgotten, a little too abruptly, to worry about him, a suddenness that could only have been caused by a spell) and there was Adam's body, limp and bloodied and dead, exactly the way they'd found him, but this time he was wearing Potter's melancholy face.
When Grant woke from the nightmare, so cold he was nearly numb with it, it didn't seem worth trying to go back to sleep. He stumbled to the bathroom and splashed cold water on his face and leaned on the sink until he stopped shaking When he returned to his bed, he pulled the curtains tightly closed around it, and lit his wand so he could study. May as well do something productive with these long, dark, too-quiet hours.
At least he could still hear his dormmates snoring. They weren't hiding. (He wasn't alone.)
He had to go to Pomfrey for another calming draught before breakfast. Potter hadn't been brought in overnight either: though Pomfrey wouldn't have told him that, Grant knew that any students brought in overnight would still be here, or would have just left, but all the beds were just as empty as they had been at curfew. None of the curtains were closed, nor beds unmade. No one had been here.
Pomfrey offered to write him a pass to miss classes if he needed to. It was tempting, but Grant knew himself. Routine would help him more than sitting and worrying, as long as he had at least one chance to check on Potter. As long as the kid was okay.
With that in mind, Grant forced himself to go to breakfast, rather than back to bed. At least Potter was at breakfast, surrounded by his friends and looking entirely alive. Grant redirected his sigh of relief, which risked coming out as a sob, into a tight shudder, and avoided Roger's knowing look though he didn't pull away when Roger's elbow bumped his on the breakfast table. Grant glanced at Pomfrey, at the head table, who smiled reassuringly back at him. Then Grant's eyes drifted to Dumbledore and he glared.
Yesterday, he'd been able to justify away Dumbledore's lack of outward concern, but actions speak louder than words: Dumbledore had released a suicidal student back to his dorms without even a cursory visit to the infirmary. That was negligence of the highest order. Grant couldn't forgive that.
It wasn't until after lunch that Grant managed to corner Potter and ask pointedly if he'd seen Pomfrey yet.
Potter set his jaw. "We got things sorted out yesterday."
"I know you never made it to the infirmary," Grant corrected, quietly serious. He'd never been close to Potter, he didn't expect to suddenly be the kid's confidant, but he wouldn't let him lie to his face. Not about this.
Potter had the audacity to roll his eyes. "Ask Snape if you're so concerned. We got things sorted out yesterday. I'm fine."
"Snape?" It was well known how badly Snape and Potter clashed. Was this another sign of how very not fine Potter was?
Potter shrugged. "He's less of a git this year, if you hadn't noticed. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to get to class before everyone panics. Again." He pulled his way loose of Grant's hold and disappeared back into the throng of students.
It wasn't until the next morning that Grant had time to check with Professor Snape. He showed up early to potions. Snape was blunt and demanding in classes, but he wasn't heartless. He'd been one of the most understanding professors last January after Adam...
"Mr. Page," Snape greeted, when he walked in.
"Professor," Grant returned. Snape's eyes were on him, waiting patiently in a silent question. They both knew Grant preferred to show up only a minute early, with his classmates, rather than alone even earlier. Grant took a breath, steadying himself. "I... did you really talk to Potter on Tuesday?"
"I cannot betray a student's confidence," Snape chided, his voice fiercely cold. It was a shock, but one that perhaps verified Potter's excuses.
"No," Grant agreed. "I don't need to know what he said. I just... I found him on top of Gryffindor tower Tuesday afternoon," he explained. "I found him on the roof. Professor Dumbledore took him away before I could get him to the infirmary and then I waited to make sure but he never showed up and I can't..." The words came tumbling out all at once, like a dam had been broken. "I just need to know he's okay," Grant admitted.
Snape raised an eyebrow. "And you came to me, Mr. Page?"
"Potter said to 'ask you if i was so concerned'," Grant explained.
Snape hummed softly, considering his words. "I have talked to Mr. Potter," he answered slowly. "I believe he is in no more danger right now than he has ever been, at this school."
Grant wanted to be reassured, but he remembered Potter plummeting from his broom during that one Quidditch match, he remembered the dragon, he had heard all the rumors, every year since the kid had come to Hogwarts... That was hardly a reassurance at all, Grant wanted to protest. But it must've shown on his face and Snape spoke before Grant could. "That is all I will say, Mr. Page."
Grant recognized that sharp tone. It had been leveraged in his own defense once or twice. Snape truly would say no more. "Yes sir," Grant answered solemnly.
Snape peered at Grant, who was sure Snape could read his restless nights in the shadows under his eyes. "Do you need to be excused from my class, Mr. Page?" he asked.
Grant appreciated that it was a question. But his answer was the same as he'd given Pomfrey the day before. "Thank you Professor, but routine will help me more than isolation right now."
Snape nodded his understanding. "Then I expect you to perform at your usual level in class today."
To some, that may have sounded harsh, but Grant knew that was Snape's way of expressing that he would treat Grant as normally as possible, which was precisely what Grant had asked for. He nodded his thanks and moved back to his usual seat. At least Potter had an adult - a real adult, not just a 17-year-old student - looking out for him. And Snape, as the potions professor, was well versed in first aid. Snape was nearly as good as Pomfrey for taking care of an at-risk student. Only nearly, because it wasn't his full time job, so he could be pulled away by classes or other students.
That didn't make Grant any less mad at Dumbledore's negligence.
That evening, the rumors flying about Potter's attempted suicide had solidified into constant, inescapable whispers. Too many versions had him actually jumping before miraculously being saved.
Grant was conflicted. He still, painfully, believed Adam's insistence that the hovering and the sudden outpouring of sympathy in the aftermath of his first attempt had been overwhelming in its own right, and Potter was already looking irritated - at his friends checking in, one after another, leaving him not a moment alone - and that was just during the mealtimes when Grant could observe him. But on the other hand, having everyone aware and concerned meant Potter couldn't slip away to try again. And ultimately, a little guilt on Grant's part and a little discomfort on Potter's was an acceptable price for saving the kid's life.
So Grant didn't do anything to shut the rumor mill down. He just added his own two knuts when he heard people talking: Potter trusts Snape. If anything happens to Potter, contact Snape. Despite appearances, the two have a rapport.
People looked at him oddly the first few times he said it, but Grant was confident in his information, and his fellow Ravenclaws knew that Grant knew how to research until he was certain, so they believed him, and soon enough, that information was circulating with the rest.
It was all Grant could do to help Potter. He just hoped it was enough.