The laboratory resembled a cathedral built for poisons. Moonlight bled through the high windows; rows of bottled creatures stared like silent witnesses.

Severus Prince Snape stood behind his desk, robes flowing with the menace of an incoming audit.

"Your inventory report."

The assistant produced three scrolls, color-coded.

Snape blinked once. A rare celestial event.

"Why are they organized?"

"Efficiency."

"Disturbing."

A silence followed, vast as interstellar darkness.

"The cauldrons have also been labeled."

Snape closed his eyes as though mourning civilization.

"Five years of students melting pewter into soup, and now competence arrives uninvited."

The assistant smiled.

"Shall I schedule your grievances for tomorrow, sir?"

"Make it recurring."

Severus makes a pause.

"Bring me a coffee. Hot not like this morning." Ah, Severus and his eternal frown.