Wammy's Boy
By: Super NEET
Beta: SensiblyTainted

IV: Settling In, Part One

Harry sat still on the bed in his temporary room.

It wasn't the sort of stillness that one naturally possesses, but rather a forced stillness. One he often acquired when he felt nervous or when he had someone's attention. He was all nerves and doubts, and despite his attempts to keep his body under control, his fists began to clench and unclench on his kneecaps. Never had he felt so on edge as he did just then, and his heart nearly leaped out of his throat to settle in his lap when the door was opened by a stoic-looking Mr. Ruvie.

The man took his time, walking forward into the room until he stood towering over the still-seated boy. Harry slowly raised his face to the man as if he were meeting his executioner. Mr. Ruvie smiled then, and Harry reckoned he'd never seen anything so wonderful.

"You did very well," Mr. Ruvie said, "Welcome to Wammy's."

Harry grinned and flopped back onto the bed in relief, not caring that it was probably rude to do so in front of Mr. Ruvie.

He'd done it!

"And this is the kitchen," Matt was saying, strolling lazily beside Harry and pointing out the rooms as he spoke. "We're not allowed in there, but we are allowed in here." He ducked his head into and pointed at a large room next to the kitchen with several round wooden tables and chairs. "This is where we eat meals. What time you eat depends on your classes, so that it's not overcrowded."

They continued on, passing a pair of giggling brown-haired twins in blue dresses who waved coyly at Matt. The redhead didn't even glance their way, but Harry did. He'd never seen a set of twins in person before.

"That's Jesse and Jamie," Matt explained once they were out of earshot. "They're here because they can memorize a chapter of a book in six minutes and recite it word-for-word."

Harry blinked. "Wow."

"We have a few cases like that." Matt fished in his back pocket for something (probably a game of some sort), but his hand came back empty handed. "You don't have to have a very high I.Q. to stay here. Those two sure don't."

Harry thought that a very mean statement, but spoke nothing of it as they continued on.

"These are science classrooms A, B, and C, and across from them are math classrooms A, B, and C. We don't have that many kids here, but the kids who are here take a lot of classes." Matt seemed to become lazier and lazier as time went on. His shoulders were rolled back casually, and his hands were limp at his sides. "We have three history rooms, three English rooms, and five rooms for the foreign languages. They're in the east wing, though, and I don't feel like walking all the way back there."

Matt sighed and absently scratched the back of his head, upsetting the goggles which were now over his eyes. Harry desperately wanted to ask why he wore them—as far as Harry knew, Matt's eyes were fine—but refrained from doing so. He wasn't sure where they stood with each other, and he didn't want Matt to get angry or think he was nosy.

"I suppose I should introduce you to some of the other students," Matt said somewhat reluctantly. Harry was beginning to feel a little self-conscious—he hated being a burden.

"You don't have to," he assured the redhead.

Matt looked at him for a moment before raising a hand to ruffle Harry's hair. Harry instinctively moved away, his shoulder hunching up defensively, as he didn't like being touched like that.

Matt said nothing of his behavior. "I don't have to, no," he murmured, "but I will."

"That's Sister," he said, speaking of a boy whom Harry had met briefly on his first day at Wammy's. "He's not the nicest fish in the sea. He acts tough, but at the end of the day he's only here because he can sing opera and speak two languages…backwards."

Harry choked on a laugh. "Really?"

Matt nodded. "Yup. Oh, and that," he pointed at a girl with brown hair in two neat plaits, thin, round glasses on her nose, and a completely unimpressed expression on her face, "is Dahlia. She's extremely smart, but doesn't have very good people skills."

"No kidding," Harry muttered, watching Dahlia stare down a boy who approached her until he got nervous and left.

"That's Victory—" Harry had met her briefly, too; a blond girl with short hair and blue eyes. "—she's incredibly competitive."

They continued on in this matter for nearly half an hour, Matt introducing Harry to some students and only telling him the names of others.

"That's Shiho." Matt pointed at a small, uniform-clad Asian girl of around Harry's age. "She's quiet, but speaks four languages already. English, Japanese, Chinese, and French."

"How many languages do we have to learn?" Harry asked curiously.

"At least two besides English and your native language," Matt replied promptly, before he stopped and placed a hand on Harry's shoulder. "That's Buick." His voice slid a little lower than usual as he pointed out a tall, plain looking boy with stringy brown hair. "He's dangerous. I'd suggest you steer clear of him."

Harry nodded nervously, glancing at Buick who, for some reason, was staring solely at Harry in a manner that suggested he greatly disliked the newest student. He didn't appear much older than Harry, but his brown eyes were harsh and cold, and his unrelenting stare made Harry's hackles rise defensively. Matt steered him around via his shoulder and they left the room, Buick and his mean eyes fading from Harry's mind as they did so.

"That's Ingrid, Ethel, and Esther," Matt said, pointing out a white, black, and Latino girl in quick succession. "They're gossip queens. All three are nine, so we'll be seeing a lot of them. Unfortunately."

Harry thought the girls were quite pretty, but the looks they sent him were anything but. He hung his head a little and tried to make himself smaller. He was used to negative attention, but he'd hoped—prayed—for things to be different at Wammy's.

Matt glanced at him. "Don't worry about them. No one takes what they say seriously." He stopped for a moment, considering, "Well, almost no one. But it's not like anyone would—"

"MATT!"

It was—unsurprisingly—Mello, who was clad in all black (looking slightly ridiculous in Harry's opinion) and walking swiftly towards them. Harry noticed how several of the children in the room had suddenly become attentive, their eyes glued to the fast-approaching boy in a strange sort of awed apprehension.

"You'll never guess what Mrs. Jurgen just told me!" Mrs. Jurgen, Harry remembered, was the head nurse.

"You're right," Matt said in a bored fashion. "I won't guess."

Mello ignored him and exclaimed, as if it were the best news in the world, "I have lice!"

A quiet settled over the room, and Harry—trying desperately not to laugh—clapped two hands over his mouth. Matt looked completely unsurprised and unaffected, as if he'd known that Mello was lice-infested all along. Mello simply stood proudly, a fierce grin of triumph on his face.

Slowly the room emptied, the children not wanting whatever the blond had (Harry didn't limit Mello's afflictions to lice). After a moment the only ones left in the room were Matt, Mello, and Harry, who finally allowed himself to laugh out loud. Mello's face shifted into an expression of scorn and he looked down his nose at the smallest boy.

"What are you laughing at?" he demanded imperiously.

Harry shrugged shoulders that were still quaking slightly with mirth.

Matt sighed. "Now, what was so important that you had to make everyone think you had lice?"

Harry wasn't really surprised that Mello didn't actually have lice. Harry reckoned that if the blond had, he'd have told no one and would have sat scratching at his hair until the problem took care of itself. Or until Mrs. Jurgen did something about it—that woman was the size of a quarterback and, in Harry's opinion, quite scary.

"Nothing," Mello said, flopping lazily into one of the armchairs, stretching himself out like a contented cat. "I just didn't want all of those losers hanging around."

Harry pretended he didn't see the glance he'd received when Mello uttered the word 'losers'. Matt shrugged as if to say 'hey, what're you gonna do' and settled himself onto one end of a couch.

Harry stood awkwardly for a moment, thinking that he had most likely overstayed his welcome. Matt had probably been forced to show him around, anyway, and it wasn't like they were friends. A peculiar feeling of relief and disappointment welled up inside of him, and his toes curled as he bit the inside of his cheek in a show of nerves. He felt so small sometimes and hated the moments when he became acutely aware of his naivety…

"You can sit down," Matt told him suddenly, making Harry twitch in surprise. He'd been in his own little world for a moment. "It's alright."

"No it isn't!" Mello cried, as if Matt had been referring to the Holocaust.

Matt ignored Mello and gestured to the opposite end of the couch he was settled on. Harry hesitated only a moment before taking the offered seat, hoping that Matt wasn't letting him stay out of duty, or worse, pity.

A tense moment passed between them in which Mello glared at Harry sullenly before the blond broke the silence with a sigh. "Why the hell are we keeping him around, again?"

Harry glared and opened his mouth to speak before a quiet cough stole his attention. He and Mello (Matt had procured a video game and was seemingly not paying attention) looked around the room, their eyes finally landing on the girl Matt had called Shiho. She looked somewhat nervous.

"Sorry," she said with a very slight accent. "I didn't know this was a three-man party."

"That's right," Mello said rudely. At the same time, Harry politely replied, "It isn't."

They glared at each other.

"Shut your face, newbie," Mello snapped.

"Really, there's no reason to fight—" Shiho began anxiously, but they both ignored her.

"Don't tell me what to do!" Harry fired back, his hands clenching into fists.

Matt sighed slightly, his eyes glancing up to regard them with a flat expression before they landed back on the screen of his game console. Shiho stood off to the side, torn between leaving and breaking up the fighting boys.

"Still don't got a name, do you?" Mello asked, both conversationally and tauntingly, his eyes hard and his lips quirked.

"Wha—no," Harry replied immediately, and then cursed himself for not sounding more irritated. He was irritated.

"How about Scarface?" Mello suggested, and Harry reckoned he was serious.

"No way!"

"Scarhead?"

"No!"

"Deformity!"

Harry simply glared.

Mello folded his arms and glared back. "Fine, pick your own stupid name. I bet it's gonna suck. Won't it, Matt?"

Matt said nothing; he didn't even glance up at his friend, his thumbs working furiously, his goggle-clad eyes focused on defeating some evil boss. Mello glared in displeasure and kicked him in the shin. The redhead simply raised an eyebrow at him before returning to his game, nonplussed.

"How about Bìmíng?" Shiho suggested suddenly, "It means 'clarity of jade' in Chinese. Your eyes are the color of jade."

Harry just stared, uncomprehending.

Mello sneered. "That's a stupid name," he said nastily.

"I like it," Harry said quickly, somehow managing to glare at Mello and smile at Shiho at the same time. "Got any more?"

Shiho smiled excitedly and nodded, "Varden, Ruri, Greene, Bolt, Merryweather, Lance, Wren—"

"That's a lot of names," Harry muttered, bemused and wide-eyed.

"—Christof, Taylor, Jimmy, Harry—" the unknowingly named boy nearly toppled over, "—Derek, Moses, Benjamin, Gregory—"

"Alright, alright, we get it!" Mello exploded, causing both Harry and Shiho to start. The girl stopped talking and hung her head in an almost comically heartbroken manner.

Harry thought she was about to cry and panicked.

"No, no, it's okay," he said hurriedly, his tone consoling; "They weren't bad names."

Mello snorted.

"Really?" Shiho sniffed, toeing the ground and looking up at Harry through her straight-cut bangs.

"Really," Harry repeated happily, mostly just glad that she wasn't going to cry.

Shiho's face twisted into a grin, and she giggled once. "Thanks."

Mello looked disgusted. "Ugh, ew. Get a room."

Harry immediately turned pink in the face, but Shiho looked curious and confused. Harry would have laughed if he hadn't been involved.

"Why?"

The blond opened his mouth to answer her, but Harry kicked him in the shins before he could out of sheer panic. Mello squawked and, for a moment, he did nothing but stare at the glaring, blushing Harry in disbelief before he launched himself at the smaller boy with a roar of outrage. Shiho cried out in shock, leaping backwards, and Matt, eyebrow raised, began to watch the fight with mild interest.

Names sure did cause a lot of problems—perhaps he'd be better off without one.

A/N: W00t! Part two is coming up next. In it Harry will receive his new name, meet Near, get to know the other students better, and other uber fun stuff.

Also: I HAVE A BETA! The lovely SensiblyTainted, who is a bit of a legend in the HP fanfiction world, helped make this chapter as easy-to-read as it is. She's awesome…go check out her stories. Now.

Oh, and as for Shiho—she won't be Sue-ish, and she won't be the romantic interest of any canon characters at any point in the future. I hate adding female OCs, because I hate Sues, but it would be very unrealistic if there were no females at Wammy's for Harry to interact with. If Wammy's had no females, he'd see Hermione for the first time and be like, "WTF IS THIS?" (Except not really, but you get my meaning.)

P.S. D, I hateth you! My paragraphs are NOT too long!