Severus Snape stalked through the corridor at pace, scowling at anybody who dared to cross his path.
He had just come from a staff meeting with the headmaster and several others, and whilst there had been no further attacks since the one on the Hufflepuff boy and the ghost, one thing was clear: they were still no closer to establishing who was behind them, or where the chamber was. He himself had inspected every one of the crime scenes himself of course, for any hint of evidence that might suggest who the culprit was. But so far, nothing had come to fruition.
He rounded the corner, where the Weasley twins were firing childish hair colour-changing hexes at each other.
"Twenty points from Gryffindor Weasleys," he snapped as he swept by them. "Each."
"Each!?" the twins cried in unison, but the potions master was long gone.
When he eventually reached the infirmary, he found Poppy Pomfrey at her desk, and the mediwitch greeted him with a nod.
"Severus. To what do I owe the pleasure?"
Stopping abruptly, Snape took several glass vials filled with vibrant yellow liquid from the pocket of his robes and handed them to her. "To replace the copious amount of Skele-gro consumed by my ward. I am afraid these vials rather bog standard-looking in comparison to your original bottle, but the potion will do its job nevertheless."
"You didn't have to brew them especially," she said with a wry smile, though she took them.
"Your stocks were depleted, were they not?"
"Yes, I suppose they were. Thank you. Is there any word on the mandrake crop?" she asked.
"I have just now come from the staff meeting," Snape told her. "As I understand it, the crop will not be ready for some time yet – possibly spring."
"I suspected as much," she nodded. "Was there any other news? Is Albus any closer to finding out where the chamber might be? Or at least who is behind all of this?"
"It certainly doesn't look like it."
Sighing, Pomfrey moved to stash the vials of Skele-gro in the nearby store cupboard, speaking again despite having her back to him. "It always worries me, Severus. When the headmaster doesn't know."
Severus arched an eyebrow. "Hmm. Then again, he saw it fit to employ that bumbling, turbaned idiot and ignored the red flags long enough for an eleven year old to discover the Dark Lord on the back of his head, so it need not be too much of a surprise."