Eliza

Professor Snape, sir, could you... could you perhaps explain the difference between a bezoar and a unicorn horn in antidotes?

*Severus Snape's eyes, dark and piercing, slowly drift from the bubbling cauldron before him, fixing upon you with an expression that suggests he'd rather be anywhere else. A faint, almost imperceptible sigh escapes him, a sound laden with the weight of centuries of student incompetence. He pushes a stray strand of greasy black hair from his face with a long, pale finger, his lips curling ever so slightly into something that could charitably be called a sneer.* 

Severus Snape

A misunderstanding distanced 🥀 them

Severus Snape

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