The waiting room was soft blue, turning off-white halfway up. Morning light beamed in through the windows, illuminating dust particles and the row of chairs below the windowsill, at the center of which was a small table containing a narrow vase with dry flowers and a few copies of Warlock Thursday splayed out for title visibility. Opposite them, on the facing row of chairs, sat Nathaniel.
He usually liked quiet places - they let him get away from people, away from everyone trying to be his friend and impress him or earn his family's favor. Not that that was the situation now - it was almost the opposite, in fact, with him needing to earn the favor of the families his father had found. But he couldn't be bothered by it at the moment. He was too anxious about all those points he'd lost.
Every second he spent waiting for this checkup was time he could be in class. He almost wanted to jiggle his leg, which he'd caught himself doing the other day, and had been actively trying to suppress ever since. (Leg-jigglers did not give off the stoic, composed look he was going for.)
The door opened and Jarod came out, a timid expression appearing as he saw Nathaniel. Did he think he didn't like him, after his curt responses yesterday?
"Your turn," Jarod said. "They told me to send you in."
"Thanks." He stood and straightened his uniform. "See you back in class, eh?"
Jarod seemed to relax.
"Sure!"
Nathaniel entered the Hospital Wing. It was painted in the same colors as the waiting room, but had a lot more space for all the beds and their accompanying privacy curtains. Immediately to the left of the entryway was a small, windowed office with a man working inside, and to the right was a bench, next to which sat a young woman with a clipboard, her hair pulled back in a bun and wearing a small, white nurse's cap.
"Please sit," she said.
He did so, but no sooner had she flipped to his page than the man poked his head out of the office.
"Who are we on?" he asked.
"Mr. Nathaniel Zoldik," she read.
"Brook, you were supposed to go on break a half hour ago!"
"It's okay," she smiled, "we're nearly there."
"Nonsense. Hand me that, and I'll finish up. You should've called me earlier!"
She laughed and stood, passing him the clipboard, then grabbed her sweater and left the Wing.
"We still on for lunch?" the man called.
"Sure!"
The door closed.
"So… Mr. Zoldik," he said, taking the seat. "My name is Mr. Escere, Head Nurse, not that that says much as there's only the two of us! How are we feeling this morning?"
"Fine."
"Fine? You sleep okay?" he asked, looking through the papers.
"More or less."
"Well," Mr. Escere said, studying him - "I'm here to listen, if there's anything you want to talk about. We'll try to make this quick, that sound good?"
Nathaniel nodded.
"Let's start by going over your food and potion allergies. Have you had reactivity tests?"
"Yes."
"You have, have you?" he said, surprised, and put away a slip of paper he was getting out.
Something about the paper's texture caught his eye.
"Is that… normal paper?" Nathaniel asked.
"This? It is. It was even purchased from Muggle manufacturers, if you can believe that! Parchment is a bit expensive for the amount of notes we go through. Do you miss it?"
"Paper?"
"Yes," said Mr. Escere, smiling. He looked like someone that could be on the front of a magazine. "It can be surprising what people miss when they find themselves in new situations," he said. "Well, let's get started. We'll just go through and check that nothing's been missed."
They ran through the list, and everything checked off, at least of what Nathaniel remembered.
"We'll now do a body health analysis. This will take a minute, and you'll need to stand as still as you can on that platform over there, by the wall."
Nathaniel got up and stepped on what looked like a scale, that had an apparatus next to it with a needle gauge and a balloon.
"So," Mr. Escere said as he watched the needle quiver, "wizards and magic, eh? How are you taking everything?"
"It's…" he thought for a moment. "Easier than I would've thought. One day you can't make things fly in the air, and the next you can."
He laughed.
"Yes, well, you're living in an age of miraculous technology! Cell phones, the internet, augmented and virtual reality implants, those… drones, that work off the earth's magnetic and electric fields - i think - there are so many things that would put a wizard at loss for words... if any of us bothered to look for a second, mind you."
That caught Nathaniel by surprise.
"You've got an interest in Muggle technology?"
"Of course. I worked for nearly a decade in experimental medicine, you can't help but develop up a sense of curiosity. But gadgets and gizmos aside - how are you adjusting to the living situation itself? It can be quite the culture shock, from what I understand."
"It's different. I miss my phone, and the internet, like you mentioned. It was hard getting to sleep the first week. But everyone's a lot more honest, or friendly, if that makes sense."
"Sure, sure," he said, reading the gauge and marking something on his clipboard. "Met anyone interesting?"
"Professor Hagrid."
He laughed. "You have any classes with him?"
"No, not until my fourth year. But then there's Professor Smith, and his ghost arm -"
"Phantom Limb, actually, and I agree with you there. That's quite the skill he's developed. As someone in medicine, body magic always fascinates me."
Nathaniel nodded, but didn't say anything.
"Anyone else?" he asked. "Making any friends?"
"Sure. A girl in my house. And the Friar, actually."
"The Fat Friar?"
"Yeah, I walk with him in the mornings, sometimes. He's very nice."
"Well, that's a bit unusual, making friends with a ghost!"
"I know. I can see how someone would get bored. But it's been nice."
Mr. Escere turned him away from the gage and began moving his wand over him like a metal detector.
"What sort of things do you talk about?" he asked.
"Just life. His past. Magical society and creatures. It's funny, there's this other ghost we sometimes bump into, who's got a big arrow sticking out of his head. He's always looking for his friend, saying the same thing over and over again, every time."
"Well... you can't expect ghosts to change the way they haunt, eh?"
"I guess. I would've thought he'd found him by now, though."
Mr. Escere laughed and looked at the balloon, which was inflating in time with Nathaniel's breaths and making odd whooshing sounds.
"Now, if you could stomp once…"
Nathaniel did so, and the scale glowed white, then developed into a turquoise.
"Excellent color," he remarked, making another note. "Don't be afraid to put some butter on your toast, though. Okay, let's do an eye examination and dexterity test, and that will be it for the day, sound good?"
Nathaniel stepped up to a line marked on the floor, and read letters off an alphabet triangle on the other side of the room. When he finished, Mr. Escere had him identify numbers off a sheet of parchment, in which everything was composed of color-changing circles. It reminded him of something you'd see in a movie about drugs. They then moved into the dexterity tests, which were just a few finger-to-thumb touches and wrist movements, which Nathaniel thought might have been for checking your range of capable wand movements.
"Very good, Mr. Zoldik, looks like you're in excellent health," he said, as they finished. "I'll write you a note to take to your professor - what class are you in?"
"Potions."
"Ah, you must be with Professor McDonnell!"
"Yep."
"You like her?"
"She's… very enthusiastic."
"It pays to have a passionate teacher," he said. "Believe you me. You'll be glad for it, looking back."
"I am glad for it. It's just a bit early, sometimes."
"You don't drink, er, mocaccinos?"
Nathaniel blinked. "No, my parents say I'm too young for caffeine."
"Ah. Well, who knows, maybe they're right!"
Mr. Escere tore off the note and handed it to him.
"You know about technology, but not caffeine?"
"I've heard of caffeine," Mr. Escere said. "But my knowledge of technology isn't that great either, by non-magical standards. There's so much to know, and not enough time!"
"That's true."
"Very good. Well it was a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Zoldik, please send in the next person on your way out."
"Okay," he said, stepping off the scale. "Although I think I'm the last one."
"Really?"
Mr. Escere got up and opened the door to the wing, but sure enough, it was empty.
"Hmm. Well okay then. Good luck with your classes."
"Thanks."
He left, wondering why Mr. Escere had been so surprised. His last name started with a Z, after all, it wasn't like he was in the middle of the alphabet.
Note clutched in his hand, he walked quickly to class, determined to make the most of the potions period. He'd seen people earn two points in a single lecture on a semi-regular basis, so with his six classes per day and twenty-four classes total, it wouldn't be too hard to make up his debt if he really tried for it. All it took was the right circumstances. He'd be sure not to sit next to anyone distracting, or anyone that could get him in trouble - he thought of Chase and Edgar and their videogames, even though the most they did was talk amongst themselves and make jokes to each other when the teacher wasn't looking.
He went down one flight of stairs, across an indoor balcony overlooking a large hall below, then down a second flight, which had a trick stair that kept teleporting him back up a step until he realized what was going on and stepped over it. That, he thought, was obnoxious.
When he finally got back to the ground floor, he made his way to the potions room and unceremoniously pushed through the door. He was partly worried about his bag - he'd left it with Maria, but their class was split with Gryffindors, and if the rumors he'd heard were true you could never know what would happen. However, as soon as he looked inside, he stopped in his tracks - all the desks were completely rearranged. Spotting Maria, he went over.
"We've been put in our brewing groups for the term," she said. There were already three other people in her group. "They were assigned, sorry…"
Great. If there was one thing he hated, it was group projects. Half the time you ended up with people that had absolutely no interest in the work, and you had to do everything yourself. And there was a lot less opportunity for earning points, if you were working with just your partners instead of the entire class. And it was for the entire term?
"It's fine," he said. "Do you know where my bag is?"
"It was kept with your desk. Should be with your new group."
At that moment, Professor McDonnell found him. For a half a second his thoughts went to the Paper Man in his pocket, but he had much more pressing concerns right then.
"Mr. Zoldik!" she said cheerily. "You're over here - the groups have been given a team-building worksheet, just introduce yourself to your partners and work through for the rest of the period, alright?"
She showed him to the corner of the room, where sat Monica Yaxley (who flashed a hand in greeting), a Gryffindor boy with medium-length black hair, and a Gryffindor girl in a witch hat, who was leaning back in her chair with a boot up on her desk, not a care in the world as to how far it made her skirt slide up. Great.
"Hi, I'm Nathaniel," he announced.
"Trip Weasley," said the boy, extending a hand, which Nathaniel shook.
"Ray," said the girl.
He made the connection.
"You're the girl from the Sorting! With the Z!"
"Yeah?" she said, raising an eyebrow. "What of it?"
"Er, nothing. Good to meet you."
"Sure. Say, what if I called you Nate?"
