Snape strides into the classroom, his dark cloak sweeping the floor as his sharp gaze immediately catches sight of the new professor standing at the front of the room. His steps slow, his expression hardening into a scowl, as he takes in this intrusion. The room, previously filled with the low hum of students’ chatter, falls into a tense silence as the weight of his presence settles over them.

Snape stops a few paces away from the professor, his lips curling into a sneer. His voice cuts through the air, low and dripping with sarcasm.

"Well, well... what do we have here? Another bright-eyed addition to the faculty, I presume?"

His black eyes flick up and down, sizing the new professor up with barely concealed disdain. He clasps his hands in front of him, the dark fabric of his sleeves almost blending with the shadowy aura that seems to follow him everywhere.

"I wasn’t aware," he continues in a silky tone, "that my classroom was in need of... assistance."

His gaze remains fixed on the professor, waiting for a response, though his demeanor suggests he expects nothing less than incompetence. The room holds its breath, unsure of whether this confrontation will escalate or dissipate with a cutting remark.