SIN
Title: A deceitful witness that uttereth lies
Rating: PG
Warnings: He's a baaaaad Potion's Master.
It's dark.
And quiet.
So very, very quiet.
So quiet that even Peeves is snoring in a corner, and Mrs Norris is dreaming somewhere of mice in servitude.
So quiet that the black-robed figure who flits down the corridor is merely another fluttering shadow between the moonlit patches.
He looks both ways, then slips into a doorway, down the stairs, and into the laboratory.
There, a small cauldron simmers on a hob, an ethereal pearl-luminous wisp of steam curling off it and around the room like a ribbon of pale light. The scent conjures memories of summer evenings, soft and cool after a rainshower, but it seems somewhat ... lacking.
Snape checks again to make sure no-one is lurking, most especially that damned nosey poltergeist. Flipping the edge of his cloak back with a stealthy twitch, he slides a tin out from a side pocket. One quick pull on the tab, and the lid opens to reveal a dark foetid mass of cooked meat, which he pours into the cauldron with a well-practiced gesture. Two stirs clockwise, one anticlockwise, and the scent from the potion is suddenly fuller, closer to complete. He checks the instructions; confirms that it will have finished its simmering in time for class tomorrow.
For a second, the light from the fire beneath the cauldron illuminates the label on the can: "Mother Drayton's Best Poisoned Dragon's Liver – Just like Granny used to make" The words catch his eye, and he smiles grimly. "At least I won't have dragon bile all over my hands" he mutters to no-one in particular. "And no-one would know the difference anyway." He leaves, conscious that a naggling voice in the back of his head is chanting in a tone just like Peeves "Cheater! Cheater!"
His last action before leaving is to stash the can back into his robes.