(staff room, afternoon)
McGonagall: ... Why does Filius keep looking at you in such a strange manner, Severus?
Snape: (sipping coffee whilst marking) I don't know what you mean.
McGonagall: Why, he keeps glancing at you, as though he's afraid you're about to drop dead any moment.
Snape:
Snape: ...I may or may not have informed Filius about the function of the liver and lungs yesterday evening.
McGonagall:
McGonagall: ...I don't see how that-
Snape: I told him that my organs must be practically decomposed from myself breathing in toxic fumes and testing potions since an adolescent. Then, of course, as Potion's Master. I suspect that from that moment onwards, Filius wholeheartedly believes that I am mortally ill.
McGonagall:
Snape: What? Did you really think repeatedly making poisons and draughts of living death isn't going to have consequences on my health?
Snape: *coughs loudly*
Flitwick: (watery sniffling from behind piles of marking at the other table)
Snape: *smirks*
McGonagall:
McGonagall: You are despicable.
Snape: I am completely and utterly hilarious, Minerva.



















