Harry Potter and the Lost Half-Bloods. *1*

Will

I accidentally offend Harry Potter and Nico passes out

WILL: My dream was strange. That's the only way to put it. Though, it wasn't completely unexplainable. I'd dreamed of being a healer since my first visit to St. Mungo's many years ago. It made sense that the dream started out with me in a hospital-like setting. Though, what was strange was the figure lying before me.

***
In the hospital bed before me lay the silhouette of a boy. I don't know how I knew this was my patient, or how I even know he was a boy. But, it was a dream. Who cares about logical explanations?

"Three days, death boy. That's what our deal was. You aren't allowed to run away quite yet."

His voice was weak, I could barely hear him. He had an American accent, with a hint of something else...maybe Italian?

"I'm not gonna run away, you idiot." He laughed weakly.

"W-What?" I felt myself blushing. Why was I blushing? I didn't know this boy.

"I'm not leaving camp, Will," he replied. "Didn't Jason talk to you? I told him I was staying."

"You did?" I tried to sound casual, but his laugh made me accept the fact that he'd heard the excitement I was trying to hold back in my tone.

"That's--That's great! I'm happy for you. You won't be disappointed, I promise."

The boy scoffed.

"I'm almost always disappointed. It's sort of a 24/7 feeling for me. You think you can keep that promise?"

"Please, I've never given up on a patient. What makes you think I'll give up on you?"

There was a pause. Then, the figure laughed.

"I was convinced this entire camp had given up on me. It's nice to know you...care."

I felt a smile tug onto my lips.

"Well, obviously I care, you dehydrated ignoramus. Drink some water and eat a couple of protein bars. I have another patient I have to tend to."

I walked towards the door. Before I left, I looked back one last time.

"I mean it, death boy. You need to take care of yourself."

The figure remained expressionless.

"Whatever you say, sunshine."

I rolled my eyes.

"That nickname is just awful."

He laughed.

"Well, now you know how I feel. Death boy's a bit obvious, don't you think?"

***

Classes were boring.

I didn't do much, or really talk to anyone until Herbology where something a bit peculiar happened to be honest. I noticed it right off the bat as I walked in the classroom and noticed an odd sort of tension in the Gryffindor side of the room.

Double classes with Gryffindor were never very fun. They all seemed to have the idea that they're better than Hufflepuff in their head, all of the houses did. Gryffindor was the worst. It was their damn pride. Once they got an idea in their head, they stuck with it no matter what. And when Gryffindor students decided Hufflepuff was below them, they stuck with that stupid joke for years.