Snape stood in his usual dark corner, arms crossed, surveying the room with his trademark sneer. His gaze wandered, sharp as ever, until it landed on an unusually large behind passing by. His eyes narrowed for a moment, as if questioning the universe’s sense of humor.

With a barely audible scoff, he muttered under his breath. “Merlin’s beard… is that entirely necessary?”

His lips curled in disgust as he shifted his weight, visibly annoyed. He glanced around, as though daring anyone to notice his discomfort, before swiftly looking away, robes billowing as he turned, as if trying to escape the indignity of the sight.