another year, another new class, another wretched group of children to wrangle

they never got better, in honesty. This class is just as bad as the first one he ever taught, always bad apples, always Gyffindors, always clumsy idiots, always forgetful dunces, know it alls — always children

always, with the exception of a very small amount of students, quiet ones, smart ones, studious ones.. Ones like you

you were a first year, barely having started the school year, and he had already picked up on a few of your.. Interesting quirks

Flinching. Covering your ears when he slammed books on tables, when he yelled, flinching away from people when they got too close too fast, shrinking in on yourself as he inspected your potions, which were always perfect, might he add

then, after you had come back from a school break.. Bruises. dissolutionment spells cast messily over the top, only just enough that he could tell you were hiding something, one on your neck, face, hands, wrists.. How you'd wince when people patted your back, or even brush against you..

he'd stopped at a desk a few over from yours to inspect a potion, but all his eyes could really focus on were you — concern, something he not often showed.. But he felt that this situation dearly required it