Teen Wolf at Hogwarts

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***

Looking at a pale Stiles, Lydia barely restrained herself from bursting into tears. Madam Pomfrey had said that if the boys had arrived even five minutes later, the injury would have been very serious, as the blow had been incredibly strong, and Stiles himself, by chance of course, had rushed straight towards Quaffle. But now the woman fervently promised that very soon Stiles wouldn't even remember what had happened, let alone the pain.

Except there was a catch. It had all been said a few hours after the boys had flown into the hospital wing, and at this point Stiles had been unconscious for twenty-four hours. Since Madam Pomfrey had said that the boy could wake up at any moment, the boys had decided to take shifts at his bedside. They had agreed to this, of course, not immediately and not by themselves, but with the help of the teachers, but it was easier that way, because the eternal sobs, sighs, whispers and moans of friends had become something unbearable for Lydia. It was easier to concentrate on something in silence, and in the presence of the boys, the moment of Stiles' fall kept coming back to her mind. He didn't make it to the ground, thankfully, because Tyler reacted instantly - as soon as Brook saw Quaffle crashing into Stiles, he rushed to him, picking him up at the last moment and keeping him from falling. The boy, by the way, also came round quite a lot, which finally elicited a respectful look from Martin.

Sighing, Lydia got up from the chair by her friend's bed and went to the bag lying nearby. Taking out a leather-bound book, Martin returned to her seat, throwing her hair back.

- You know, when I was a little girl, my dad used to read me this one book. It was Muggle, but I always liked it anyway. It's called The Little Mermaid. I'll read it, do you mind? - Lydia looked at her friend and smiled at the corner of her lips. - Good. There is a cartoon film based on this book, but it is not quite the same as the book itself. They softened the events so as not to upset the children. Nonsense. - snorted the girl and opened the book to the first page. - In the open sea the water is as blue as the petals of pretty cornflowers and as clear as crystal, but it is deep!

Lydia's voice sounded neither loud nor quiet, melodious and pleasant. One could hear that the girl herself was enjoying the book. Pausing and emphasising words where necessary, Martin read, reliving in her head the moments from her childhood. Forty minutes later, the girl was still reading, occasionally stopping to catch her breath.

- And the little mermaid stretched out her transparent hands to God's sunshine and for the first time felt tears in her eyes. - Sighing, Lydia slammed the book shut and looked at Stiles.

- You're doing beautifully. - The boy smiled, looking at his friend.

- Stiles? - Martin opened her mouth in amazement.

- Nice to meet you. - Stilinski chuckled, rising on his elbows and wrinkling his nose slightly. - How long have I been here?

- A day.

- Wow. - The boy's eyebrows went up.

- You all right? - Martin's hand trembled and moved slightly forward to her friend's cheek, but the girl quickly pulled herself back.

- To be honest, surprisingly well. It doesn't hurt at all. - Stiles replied, pressing his hand to his chest.

- You wrinkled your nose when you stood up. - Martin remarked, sitting down on her friend's bed.

- It was from surprise. - chuckled Stiles.

- Yeah, sure. - Martin gave her friend a playful slap on the back.

- What was that story? Cos I wasn't listening at the beginning.

- Oh, it was nothing. - Martin waved her hand.

- Lyds. - Stiles gave his friend a surprisingly stern look.

- The Little Mermaid, a Muggle fairy tale. My father and I used to read it when I was little. - Lydia tucked a strand behind her ear. - Stiles, tell me, is everything really okay? - Martin leaned slightly towards her friend.

- 'Yes really, it is. Better tell me what I missed. - Stiles waved his hand.

- Nothing, I guess. We were doing the Scissors spell in Enchantments today. Erica nearly cut Whittemore's finger off. Herbalism was all about devil's snares. Nothing interesting in class. - Martin waved her hand. - And the whole school must have visited you. - laughed the girl.

- How could it be otherwise? - laughed Stiles.

- Mr Stilinski, at last! - Madam Pomfrey opened the door to the ward and ran over to the boy's bed. - How are you feeling? On a scale of one to ten.

- Eleven. - Stiles winked at Lydia.

- You're kidding, so I'm fine. - the woman smiled.

- He would joke even under the threat of the death penalty. - Lydia rolled her eyes with a smile.

- 'Don't bring the office down. - hissed the boy.

- What? - Martin looked at her friend in bewilderment.

- Sti! - Heather's loud exclamation cut her ears. - How are you? I came as soon as I could! - Before she could even blink, Lydia saw that the girl had already jumped on Stiles with a hug. - How did you get so sloppy? Come on, Sti, how could you? - Rolling her eyes, Lydia stood up, picked up her bag, and after one last glance at the blushing and constantly nodding Stiles, turned on her heels and strode towards the exit.

- Leeds, wait! - Stiles called out to her friend as she swung the doors open. She turned round and stared at her friend silently. - Stay. - The request sounded very quiet, almost pleading. Heather glanced at Lydia, who was staring at her, and with a snicker, the girl left the room, her red hair swept back in a wave. Sighing, Stiles tried to focus on Heather's new wave of words.

***

- Hey, bro, you asleep? - Scott's wiggly head peeked into the room.

- Ten times. - Stiles stretched out, sitting up on the bed and hiding something under his pillow.

- That's good. - Smiling, the boy walked into the room, followed by five others.

- Wow. - Stiles was grinning from ear to ear now, and when he saw Lydia, he sighed in relief.

- Did you think I wouldn't come? - Martin asked in surprise, sitting down on the edge of her friend's bed.

- A little. - Stiles answered quietly.

- Are you okay? - Malia asked, sitting down on the next bed.

- Never better. - smiled Stilinski.

- I'm sorry, mate, I didn't mean to. - Scott stretched out, looking at his best friend doomedly.

- Forget it, Scotty. - Stilinski waved his hand. - Madam Pomfrey said that if there's no deterioration, I'll go to school in the morning.

- Are you excited? - Allison asked, smiling wryly.

- I'm overjoyed. - Stiles said with undisguised sarcasm.

- You certainly gave everyone a fright. - Matt said.

- That's true. - Isaac nodded.

- I'm sorry. - Stiles smiled, sitting up and tucking his legs under him to give Lydia more room.

- Oh, come on. - Putting a hand on her friend's shoulder, Lydia grimaced.

- We brought you something to eat, by the way. - Allison stretched out and, taking the backpack off Scott's back, pulled out a whole bag of food.

- Thanks for that. Madam Pomfrey has crammed so much salad and carrot juice into me in the last few hours that I'm sick to my stomach. - With a wince, Stiles stabbed a slice of fried potato on his fork and took a bite of almost half of it.

- By the way, Ty came up to me. - Scott mentioned it casually.

- He's Ty to us now? - Stiles chuckled. - What did he say?

- That next year was gonna be a cakewalk. - McCall smirked.

- Really? - Stilinski choked up. - I thought he was joking, all that stuff. Really? - The boy's eyes widened in surprise, and Scott nodded vigorously, clearly pleased with the reaction.

- 'Can we now, for the uninitiated? - Lydia's voice sounded slightly annoyed.

- Scotty and I have a ninety per cent chance of making the team next year. - Stiles replied, pleased as punch, and took a large piece of bacon in his mouth.

- Come on, Stilinski, you're not out of the hospital wing yet and you're already thinking about the team. - rolled her eyes at Martin.

- No, I'm not! Leeds, what are you doing? It's Quidditch! - Stiles exclaimed in amazement.

- My dear, my health is far more important than this Quidditch of yours. - Lydia waved her hand and shoved another piece of bacon into her friend's mouth to avoid further words. The boy glared at his friend and began to move his jaws with fierce ferocity, causing Martin to laugh.

- What the hell is that? - Madam Pomfrey exclaimed with contrived severity, approaching the bunk.

- What are you talking about? - Lydia, hiding the still chewing Stiles behind her back, clapped her eyes shut.

- Mr Stilinski, a good appetite is commendable, but you can't eat so much fatty food at once. - The woman shook her head and took the food from the boy, ignoring his feeble protests. - And you, my friends, need your own supper. And Stiles needs his rest. All right, come on, let's go. - waving her arms, Madam Pomfrey began to usher the rebellious boys out. Finally, when Scott's hand disappeared through the doorway and the lock clicked, the woman turned to the boy and smiled softly. - Stiles, are you really feeling better?

- Yes.' nodding, Stilinski smiled.

- Okay, maybe I'll let you out tomorrow. We'll see. You rest up, I'll come back. - Taking the bag of food left by the boys, the woman left the room, closing the door softly behind her. Sighing, Stiles pulled the book Lydia had forgotten from under his pillow, and opening it to the page the boy had stopped on, rereading the story, he began to read.

***

The clock on the wall showed that it was past midnight, but Stiles couldn't sleep. His mind was filled with delusions, making him smile warmly or wrinkle his nose in irritation. Carefully placing The Little Mermaid under his pillow, he stared at the ceiling, unblinking. There was a full moon tonight. Sighing, the boy sat up on the bed, tugging on his t-shirt.

As soon as he put one foot on the cold marble floor, the door lock clicked. With a startled rounding of his eyes, Stiles promptly fell back onto his pillow, covering himself with the blanket up to his chin. Opening one eye, the boy watched as Madam Pomfrey led someone to the bunk farther away from Stiles, oohing and aahing every second. That someone was a thin boy with blue-black hair, honey-coloured eyes and a slightly upturned nose. He was about a year older than Stiles himself. Sitting down heavily on the bed, the boy mumbled something, whimpering, his face reflecting a look of genuine pain. Leaning over and whispering something in the boy's ear, Madam Pomfrey quickly left, whispering something under her breath. As soon as the woman left, the stranger sighed in relief and stopped moaning. Eyebrows raised in surprise, Stiles threw back the blanket. Realising that his game had been discovered, the brunet's eyes widened as he considered how to proceed, but Stiles was the first to find him.

- Who are you? - The question was too primitive for Stiles, but oddly enough, quite appropriate for the situation. Silence, however, was an even more ridiculous answer. - I'm Stiles. - Stilinski frowned.

- Good night. - Stiles hadn't expected this turn of events. With his mouth open in amazement, Stilinski only watched as the brunet climbed under the blanket, turned his back to Stiles and sniffled.

- I don't believe you fell asleep. - Stilinski, unhappy with this behaviour, said. The answer was silence. - Hey, you hear that? - and as Stiles raised himself up on an elbow, the door swung open and Madam Pomfrey re-entered the room. The boy, who had barely had time to hide under his blanket, cursed softly, once again watching from the sidelines.

Leaning over to the newly suffering brunet, the woman handed him some sort of bottle with a bright green liquid splashing in it. The boy drank the mixture without hesitation, writhing slightly. Leaning back heavily on the pillows, the brunet whimpered softly, writhing painfully. Stiles's eyes widened at the sight of him - not even he and Scott could have put on such a show. Of course they could, but that's ridiculous.

- Will, this will help. You'll feel better soon. Try to get some sleep, it'll speed up the effects of the medication. You'll tell me everything in detail tomorrow morning, okay? - After a weak nod from the 'sick', the woman left, closing the door behind her with another groan.

- Hey, man, that was really cool. - Stiles marvelled. The response was again only silence. - You're Will, aren't you? - Will's silence was starting to make Stiles a little uneasy. - Where are you from? What class? What department? Why are you here? Are you hurt or sick? - the whole torrent of words rained down on the brunet, spewing out of Stiles' mouth at the rate of ten words per second.

- Look, Stiles, I'm sorry, but I'm really tired. Good night. - Will said with pressure.

Stiles raised his eyebrows again, but all he saw was the brunet with the blanket up to his chin, turning away from the wall, exhaling convulsively. The steely notes in the boy's voice gave no opportunity to object, though Stiles could have, but somehow didn't. Frowning, Stilinski turned his gaze back to the ceiling.

- Yes, I'm Will. - Stiles flinched when he heard a very quiet voice, more like an echo. But when he looked up at the brunet, all the boy could see was his back again. Scratching the back of his head, Stiles thought to himself that he would be sure to talk to this strange boy in the morning.

Stilinski couldn't sleep, his thoughts returning to Will and Ariel until the morning.