NOTES: At the bottom.
***
The boy appeared behind him as he unlocked the door to his classroom. Sensing his presence, Severus looked over his shoulder, into those green eyes that followed him everywhere. His lips tightened into a thin line, and eventually disappeared.
"Well, don't just stand there. Class begins in five."
He opened the door, and strode in first, knowing the boy would follow him. The other students would be along shortly, far noisier and far less willing to enter the gloom of the dungeons. Taking his usual seat in the back, the boy was almost hidden by the lurking shadow of a bookcase whose shelves bowed under the weight of knowledge they carried.
***
Class started, as routine and regular and monotonous as the ticking secondhand of the clock. His lecture left little time for potion making or question asking. The children were silent, heads bowing to their parchments and back up, writing notes and reading the blackboard. In the furthest row, only a thatch of black hair was visible, but Severus could still feel the unforgivably green eyes watching him throughout the lesson.
Afterwards, the boy sat and watched him tidy the student's leftover careless messes, and brew a potion of his own.
"Chamomile, valerian, essence of poppy. Any ideas why?" Looking over his shoulder, he cocked an eyebrow into a cynical question mark.
Ingenuous eyes and fluttering lashes fought a losing battle with roguishly curving, cupid's-bow lips. With a snort, Severus turned his back on the innocently swinging legs and deliberately mawkish face to stir the mixture. Fifty strokes later, he fought the urge to turn around and see if the damned boy was still there. Of course he was- the boy never left him; that was the rub.
***
The boy followed Severus to lunch, and wandered the Hall as he pleased, always within eyeshot of Severus. He pulled ridiculous faces that went unnoticed even by his friends, although he glanced impishly at Severus from time to time, making sure he was watching. It was darkly amusing- almost enough to make him smile. He was glad to know the boy had a sense of humor, off kilter as it was, given his preoccupation with the potions Master.
"Severus!" MacGonagall exclaimed delightedly. "That is the first hint of a smile I have seen on your face in a long time!"
The head table froze, collectively.
"Indeed. If you will excuse me." In the eternity it took to rise from his chair and walk from the Great Hall, he thought of several responses he could have employed, and several more he should have.
***
He retreated to his demesne, and there the boy was, at the door as usual. Even in the gloomy hallway, Severus could see the telltale glint of glass, wire, and hair.
"Well, Mr. Potter. People are beginning to wonder."
The boy smiled, and Severus pretended he couldn't see the planks of the door through the white shirt and red and gold striped tie. What would happen if he reached through that slight form, seeking the handle to the door?
But the boy stepped aside, as if unwilling to stand his touch, or unable.
"I suppose I should be thankful you come to class at all." He managed gracelessly.
The boy didn't respond verbally, but his smile broadened, and Severus knew what he was thinking.
"They think I am mad as it is. I am not about to change your marks simply because you are dead. Go bother Minerva if that is what you want."
He muttered the password, and let himself into the empty rooms. Harry entered calmly behind him, settling comfortably into the dust-laden shadows. Preparing the cauldrons for his next class, he tried to make enough noise for two people, but the stones swallowed the sounds with thirsty gulps, leaving him parched and sore. He gave up.
Enthroned behind his lectern, Severus graded papers based on their introductory sentences, and wondered whose cruel sword drew the line between punishment and blessing.
NOTES: Yes, he's dead. I didn't kill him; he was dead when I got here. Now stop. Can't you see Severus feels bad enough already?
Standard disclaimers apply. They're not mine, alas.