Curiosity and Other Misfortunes- Z.S.

One.

Will shouldn't have even seen him.

It was supposed to be a quick change in between classes; corridors bustling with people. Cold December air nipping at cheeks and noses until one has a wear dragonhide gloves in order to make a smooth transition without feeling as though there are icicles forming in your nail beds.

Of course he's seen him before. They were in the same house ever since that letter arrived in late August six years ago that changed Will's life forever.

The flash of straw blond air, the warm smile that if it was paid more attention to, could thaw even the Black Lake's nastiest of days.  He always did have a habit of making himself known in every room he walked in. Will's wanted to introduce himself on many occasions but every time he has even gotten the faintest shred of courage to do so-

He stops- thinks better of it.

That is until today.

It's on the way to Potions that it happens. The constricting of a chest- the shallow of breaths. He begins to repeat his mantra he has had ever since his first anxiety attack at the ripe age of 7- it's going to be okay. Of course there's other ones that always seem to be misused by others and a word so simple that make the feeling inside of him seem so childish and invalid.

He walks, stumbles, to the nearest men's bathroom, clutching his wand that sits in his pocket so hard his knuckles turn white and he feels his metacarpal bones straining taught against the pale skin of his dominant hand.

He shoves the door open, the air that hits his face freezing, and is met with a sight that finally, finally, makes his brain stop turning for a minute, but his eyes turn as big as saucers.

Glass shards surround the floor by his feet, some which were kicked from the abruptness of his entry. The mirrors are demolished causing a sort of kaleidoscopic array of glares of light throughout the stone material of the walls and ceramics of the now smashed sinks and toilet bowls.

In the middle of the chaos- Will sees him.

Zacharias Smith, a popular Hufflepuff in the same year as Will who he has heard whispers of from the mouths of his peers in the common room on the way back from exhausting study sessions in the library, sitting in the middle of the Men's Lavatory, hair that is normally brushed carelessly back now sticking up on all sides and damp. Tie abandoned and dress shirt soaked through, the two top buttons seemingly ripped off, with a tear that goes from his collar bone to the edge of his left shoulder along with many small others, lips a light blue color and teeth chattering slightly.

Zacharias lifts his head just enough to acknowledge him, jaw ticking with irritation.

Will stood staring at him aghast.

"What do you want?" Zacharias huffed, letting one leg lay flat on the ground, the other propped up used as a resting place for his elbow. 

"Nothing," Will replied, now painfully aware of the mistake he made in walking into the room, once hyperventilating- struggling for air, now is too stunned to remember what he came in here for. What was I doing?

He shook his head, remembered he was talking to someone- talking to him.

"I -" He faltered.

He what? What was he supposed to say?

"Listen," Zacharias began, standing up, wincing slightly as he began looking around for something, his wand, Will determined. "I would much appreiciate it if you forgot you saw this," Zacharias says, his hand closing around his wand that Will sees is under the third stall from the door, thrown in frustration.

"Of course, not," Will says. It's not that he feels bad for him. He dosen't. But he has been on Zacharias' end of this situation too many times to count. Not that any of them led to him destroying school property, but still.

Will knows. And not in the way one does when they have brief knowledge on the matter at hand, he knows.

And if leaving this room as if he never walked in to begin with made Zacharias feel even the slightest bit better about the mess he made for himself, he's willing to do it.

Will shifts his weight to his other foot, scuffing it causing more glass to crunch under his shoe just as Zacharias takes a couple steps forward and Will takes in the state of him from up close.

The tear in his dress shirt reveals tanned skin one only gets from spending hours in the sun, dulled slightly from the cold weather. He's taller than Will, a couple inches but it makes it seem to him that if he took a couple more steps, he would be towering over him. And when Will looks up the length of his neck, the sight of his face makes something close to pity rise in his stomach for the boy standing in front of him.

He looks miserable.

Zacharias clears his throat, a slight flush rising up his neck and brushing his jaw.

"I'm going to try to clean this up and I would rather not have you not loom over me while I do it," Zacharias says.

Will takes a step back, embarrassed.

"Of course," And spinning on his heel, he leaves the bathroom, making his way to the last class of the day he knows for certain he's late for. As he walks, his mind unfocused and trying to process what's just happened. He's walked these corridors so many times he's certain his feet will lead him to where he needs to go without his mind following suit.

He racks his brain for times where he might have seen the signs in Zacharias. Always, rather it be in classes, passing notes to his friends or talking with them in the halls, he has looked fine. Like your average, happy teenage boy. Nothing that could have told Will otherwise has stuck out like a sore thumb but the moment he walked through that door, he was named wrong.

Approaching the door to his potions classroom, the air chilling him to the bone, he lets out a huff of breath. Snape has never liked him but then again has he ever liked anyone?

As he opens the door to Snape's classroom, the Professor's bored eyes sweep over to the door, greasy hair Will has heard so many students make fun of him for glimmering in the dim dungeon light.

"You are late, Mr.Patton. Ten points from Hufflepuff," Snape says in that deadened voice.

"Sorry," Will mumbles, even though he dosen't feel the slightest bit sorry for the missing ten minutes.

He walks over to his assigned table and opens his textbook to the page number written on the chalkboard in immaculate Calligraphy and sees that it's a slow day and that all is required is a vial of Dreamless Sleep. Easy enough.

As Will walks over to the ingredient cabinet, eyes slowly tracing over the contents, he can't help but let his mind wander to a light-haired boy that is broken in the same ways as him, and oddly enough, he feels liberated.