Cheeks and ears reddened as the boy rummaged in his book bag and handed over a blue jar. Severus pulled off the lid and sniffed the contents, just to make sure of what it contained, before nodding and returning it. Topical analgesic and anti-inflammatory. He'd made it himself over the summer. "Very well. See that you use it as prescribed."
"Yes, sir."
Suppressing a sigh, Severus watched the boy a few minutes more, after Potter's gaze returned to the floor. What was he going to do? He had to admit, finally, that the boy's behavior troubled him, too. But without details of the life Potter had had before, he couldn't really know anything, and he much preferred to work from a position of strength when questioning his newest Snakes. The owl sent to Potter's aunt and uncle in Surrey, to arrange a home visit, had not yet returned, and was the only one still outstanding. This fact caused him some concern; even if the Dursleys were taking their own sweet time to reply, the owl should have returned by now. He would send a follow up tomorrow, if he still had not received a response.
Moving another sheet of parchment in front of him, Severus now debated giving it to the boy. If Poppy's suspicions were correct, it might do more harm than good. But if not, if the boy had merely neglected his own health by not eating properly, then the list should just serve to remind him that here he was not a pampered prince. And, naturally, Severus doggedly clung to his own rationale over Poppy's. For once thing, it made more sense. Surely Albus would have made sure the Hero of the Wizarding World was well kept.
Once decided, Severus said in an even tone, "I have an additional list of rules for you. Your behavior at meal times has not gone unnoticed, even by those of other Houses. I require all Slytherins to maintain proper decorum, especially when in such a milieu." And then he waited.
There was quite a long pause before Potter lifted his head. His jaw was set in a determined line that Severus had to admire. "Yes, sir. Prefect Flint mentioned the problem to me earlier."
"Good. See that you incorporate these rules, effective immediately." Severus handed over the parchment, though he nearly took it back when he saw how badly the boy's hand was shaking.
"Yes, sir."
Still trying to provoke a response, Severus curled his lip slightly. "You have not read them as yet, Potter. Do so now, that I may answer any questions you have."
He watched as the boy read over the list. Miss Torrance's script was easy to decipher, but Severus had detected Mr. Flint's more proletarian efforts in there as well. The items included such rules as "Don't grab food off of platters, use the spoons and forks provided," and "Chew with your mouth closed, as watching partly digested food swishing around inside your gob is disgusting," and "Don't wipe your mouth on your sleeve or any other part of your robes." Potter's face paled as he read through the list, then reddened once more, and his hands were shaking even harder when he had finished.
Expecting an explosion of some kind from James' son, Severus maintained his quiet tone and said, "Do I need to explain any of these rules to you, Potter?"
The boy squeezed his eyes shut as his face slowly adopted that blank mask. Severus waited, fascinated, until the boy had gathered his emotions well in hand and viciously suppressed them before he finally caught his eye. The despair and shame in the depths of those green eyes told him more than he wanted to know about how right Poppy's suspicions probably were. But he was amazed, yet again, when the boy spoke distinctly, with no hint of the pain lurking just below the surface. "No, sir. They are quite clear."