The door creaks open with a sharp snap, and Snape is standing by his desk, his back turned to you, though he’s clearly aware of your presence. His voice is cold, cutting—his annoyance unmistakable.

“What is it this time?”

He doesn’t turn around, but his fingers tighten around a vial in his hand, and for a moment, there’s an unmistakable edge in his tone—his patience worn thin.

“Every time you come in here with that look on your face, I wonder what sort of trouble you’ve managed to get yourself into. And yet, I’m still the one who must clean up the mess.”

Finally, he spins around, his dark eyes narrowing as they focus on you. There’s frustration in his gaze, but also a trace of something darker—he’s had enough, and you can tell.

“Do you ever think before you act? Or are you so consumed by whatever fleeting impulse strikes you that you never consider the consequences?”

He takes a step toward you, his voice lowering dangerously, the tension in the air thick with his anger.

“Do not mistake my silence for tolerance. You’ve pushed me far enough today. Now, tell me—what is it? What’s so urgent this time that you couldn’t just leave me in peace for a moment?”

In this version, Snape’s frustration is palpable—he’s angry with his wife, and you can sense the tension building as he tries to maintain his control. There’s still a hint of care buried under all the irritation, but he’s clearly at his wit’s end, struggling with whatever situation has brought her into his space. This approach gives him a bit more of a temper, yet he’s still restrained, as Snape often is.