The Unknown

Chapter Eleven

I woke with a jolt, but when I opened my eyes I couldn't remember what had forced me awake so suddenly. I was sitting up in the hospital wing; the only light source being from the torches towards the large doors. The light flickered across the stone floors, and after a second of letting my eyes adjust I found that I was alone.

I glanced around the hospital wing. It felt like it had been noisy right before I woke up, but went silent as I opened my eyes. There was the remnants of sound in my mind, but whatever it was, it was gone now.

I sighed and pushed myself into a sitting position, groaning a little at the persistent ache that seemed to penetrate right through my bones. It wasn't nearly as bad as the aftermath of a transformation usually was - after I sat up the ache subsided enough for me to focus on other things around me instead of dominating my mind. However, now I realized that there really wasn't much around me.

I squinted my eyes a bit when I looked out the window, but I couldn't figure out what time it was – the sky was a stormy, dark gray color. My wand was sitting on the bedside table beside a glass of water. I downed it in a few seconds and was thankful to whoever thought to leave it out for me. I set the glass back down and noticed a small piece of paper that the water had been weighing down. Picking it up, I noticed my mother's obsessively neat handwriting scrawled across the front.

I jumped when the door opened slowly, the hinges creaking and echoing around the hospital wing. I debated throwing the covers over me and pretending to be asleep, but it was too late. A head peaked into the room, and a boy I didn't recognize smiled as he scanned the room and saw me. It was odd. I was about to tell him that his friend was probably sent back to the dorms already, but when he started walking straight towards my bed I thought that maybe he wasn't here for someone else.

"Hey, Nolan Greco, right?" I nodded, confused at why this boy I didn't know was smiling at me. Smiling. Not the 'I pity you' smile or the smirk of a disdainful Slytherin, but an actual smile. I was so caught off guard that all I could do was nod.

I finally cleared my throat when he raised his eyebrow, realizing that I had just been staring at him for a minute. "Um...who are you?" I cringed a little at how rude that sounded, but he didn't seem to care. He dropped his bag on the bed beside mine and sat down next to it.

"Anthony Savill." I didn't want to say that the name didn't ring a bell, so I merely smiled back weakly and shook the hand that he offered. "I'm in sixth year," he said politely, probably figuring out that I had no clue who he was. "I came in here earlier today to see a friend and noticed that you were here. Madam Pomfrey suggested that I bring you your homework after dinner-" Great, I thought, Madam Pomfrey put him up to this. "-when I asked if I could do anything to help."

This boy was definitely weird. While he seemed to glance me over I did the same, taking note that his hair seemed to be caught between a soft snowy white and a bleached blond, and that his skin was oddly tan, making his hair stand out even more. He let out a sudden chuckle and shook his head.

"Man, you sure look bad for falling out of a Gryffindor Tower window." I chuckled as well, though I felt suddenly nervous when my state of health was brought into the conversation. After he said that, though, he shuffled through his bag - not taking a close look, which I was thankful for. "Sorry, that was kind of rude." I went to say that I didn't mind, that I probably did look horrible, but he cut me off. "Anyway, here's your homework. Professor Snape said that yours still has to be done on time, but everyone else said that you could do the work when you're feeling better."

He dropped a few books onto my bed along with some pieces of parchment and quills.

I groaned, picking up the potions book that was on top of the stack. "I suck at potions," I murmured.

"If you don't mind my asking, where are you from?" I looked up, a little shocked. No one had really asked me that before - well, no one had really talked to me at the school before. "Well, your accent's a little odd. I just couldn't place it."

"The U.S.."

"Oh, so you're an exchange student, then?" At my confused look, he elaborated a bit. "It's just that, if you had lived here for years on end, your accent probably would have faded."

I shook my head. "No, I've been going to Hogwarts for five years now. My brother is just hellbent on keeping his accent and I guess I just kept mine by talking to him a lot." I left out that part where I didn't actually talk to him that much, but in comparison to how much I talked to anyone in general, it was enough to feel like he was the only one in the world who spoke to me. Anthony nodded his head, and neatly plucked the potions book out of my hands.

"You know, this stuff isn't that hard, we did this all last year. I could help you if you'd like." The sentence was said more like a question, and though his head was bent over the book he glanced up at me through his nearly-white hair that hung into his face.

"Um...sure. Thanks."

He immediately stood up. "Move over." I scooted to the side of the bed, a little confused at what he was doing until he sat down next to me, and pushed all of the other books onto the bed beside mine. "Okay, so it looks like you guys are writing three parchments on the Drimithic Potion..." I glanced over his shoulder as he flipped through the book, landing on a difficult looking potion. "It's okay, it's not that hard," he said, as if sensing my sudden drop in mood - I really was horrible with potions. "I'll help, you'll get it done in no time."

He smiled, one of those real smiles again that showed that his teeth were about as white as his hair, standing out against his tan skin and the slightly dim light in the hospital wing. Yep, this boy was definitely weird.