As soon as he stepped into the hall I could tell that something was amiss. His movement was slow, sluggish, like he was trudging through water. Dark circles around his eyes told of long sleepless nights with only haunting thoughts as company. No one around him seemed to notice or even care as he took his seat away from anyone else at the table. He looked as though he might be on autopilot as he portioned out small amounts of food onto his plate. Has he always been this meticulous or is this a new development. I have to admit to never really paying attention to the boy, no, young man. For all I know he could be obsessive compulsive.
As he finishes his breakfast he glances up at the head table and his gaze meets mine. I look on with curiosity as I try to decipher the emotions I see in his eyes. The most prevalent is shock at what I can assume is the only time I haven't looked at him with contempt or thinly veiled anger. Our connection breaks as he looks away as he stands, collects his bag and leaves for his first class of the day. I notice the quickly emptying hall and decide to follow suit. I have my own classes to get to after all.
All throughout the day I find myself wondering what has changed in him. He rarely speaks and his study habits have obviously improved if his aptitude in my class has improved, and it has. Immensely. It's as if he woke up one day and decided he was going to learn as much as he can. His scores have even far surpassed his bookish muggle friend, who seems is the only person to notice him aside from myself. As I close the door to my chambers and remove my outer robe I make a decision. I will find out what is going on. What seems to be bothering him. And I will find out why I all of sudden care about the little brats feelings.