Dead Man Walking

Severus looked up at her, startled. He barely talked, was barely even courteous, yet she wanted to see him another night. Sure, she was a bit too boisterous for his tastes, but he needed some sort of human contact after being alone. If he could handle nosy coworkers and snotty nosed kids, he could handle something like her.

"Of course," he said.

"Good, by the bus stop again?"

"That will be fine."

As she spun out of his sight, Severus sighed to himself. Severus, old boy, what have you gotten yourself into?

The next day, Severus did try to work. He was almost out of supplies and needed to work hard to get them restocked. Besides, he hated Alice paying for all his meals, and felt the need to start footing his own bill. It would be a stretch, but he was sure he would manage.

It seemed the Fates were working against him, though, as he sat in front of the office with the other day laborers. Hours passed by as the young and more able-bodied were chosen over the sickly older man.

By the late afternoon, Severus was becoming fed up. He knew that he was not the ideal person to be doing such work, yet he could do nothing else until he saved up enough money for the fake I.D. How could the Fates have cursed me so?

Barely able to stand a minute more of this drivel, he stormed off from the small group to his small, gloomy home.

Back at his home, he slumped down into his ratty chair. There, leaning his head back against the back of the chair, he sat pondering his situation. I cannot go back into my world, yet I do not belong in this one. Blast that Dumbledore for suggesting he do such a thing, blast Draco for backing out on the Dark Lord's plans, and blast that damn Potter boy. Why does life have to be so hard?

He was woken abruptly from his ponderings by a knock at the door. Severus was just about to answer it until a thought popped into his head. No one knows where I live. No one knows I am alive. There are enchantments on this place.

Proceeding carefully through the dingy curtains hanging on his window, he peered out at the miniscule form of Alice. Not thinking at all of what he was doing, he threw open the door and stared at the woman blindly.

"You blasted woman, how did you know where to find me?" he asked in a rage.

She smirked at his temper. "I followed you home silly. I forgot to tell you I have today off."

"Followed me? You've been watching me all day?"

"No, no, no, I happened upon you while you were walking home in a bit of a tizzy. Something bad happen at work today?"

Not wanting her to know how dire his situation was, he merely replied, "Yes, Ms. Miles, it was."

"Alice."

"What?"

"My name is Alice. I asked you to call me that."

"Oh." He stood there a moment.

"Are you going to let me in?" She seemed a little amused at that thought.

"Oh, of course, come in."

She stepped through the door and the first thing she reached for was the switch by the door. "My goodness you like to keep things dark in here. Why doesn't this thing work?" She flipped the switch a few more times.

"Ms. Miles," he was about to continue, but she gave him a glare. "Alice. The reason why I switched off the electricity was that I do not need it. Candlelight works fine for me."

"Doesn't that hurt your eyes? It is so dim, and you seem to enjoy your books. Besides, how do you cook? Doesn't the stove need electricity to switch on the pilot light?"

Pausing a moment, he said, "My lady, the appliances in this house are older than I am. If the stove did work, I would have to light it with a match."

"Oh. My goodness, you're really roughing it then. Does your plumbing work as well?"

Ah. The plumbing. "That, I am glad to say, does work. While I do believe in keeping to the bare necessities, I do like to be clean."

"Well, that must be a feat, considering that with no gas or electricity, there is no hot water."

"Bare necessities, as I say."

"Well then, Mister wants-to-live-in-the-rough, how about some dinner? I was about to take you out somewhere, but it seems that what I should really do is give you a home-cooked meal."

His stomach seemed to answer for him. She responded to its plea by saying, "Seems it agrees with me. Come on." She dragged the poor man with her out the door.

"Wait, wait, Ms., er, Alice. I need to lock the house." He fumbled with the key and turned the lock.

"I was wondering why you are so thin. It seems the lack of cooking is taking a toll on you."

"I'll have you know, I do cook. I use the grate in the fireplace."

"My goodness. I want to see you do that sometime. Must be hard to make sure an item is well-cooked, and you don't have an oven."

"Yes, well, it's not like I cook much."