Severus paced around the room, his sharp gaze checking each cauldron in turn. It was a particularly difficult potion that his seventh years were working on creating, one that could easily turn half his students into melting sticks of flesh.

A chair was pulled half-way out in front of the room's only empty desk and each time he made a round through the room, Severus had to walk around it. He did not really think about it, the chair was just a distraction and he was completely focused on the bubbling stews of magical ingredients.

Harry watched Professor Snape make a fourth circuit of the room. Each time the man squeezed past the half-pushed in chair, Harry felt his nerves fray a bit more. Six times around the room and Harry felt his eye twitch when the black robes slid over the piece of furniture. The boy felt his mouth open and knew that words would come spilling out, but he could not stop himself.

"Push it in, already!"

Everybody in the room froze at the sudden outburst. Severus slowly turned his head to look first to Harry and then the chair he was once again walking past. The potions master blinked. Now was not the time for harsh words - anxiety while brewing a potion of this volatility could cost a student a limb. Deciding to leave his ire for another class, the man reached out two fingers and pushed against the chair back and slid it forward a foot until it was pressed up against the desk.

Harry waited, cringing inwardly in anticipation of the explosion and loss of points.

Instead, Snape eyed him steadily and calmly stated, "Mr. Prozac called. He misses you."

Most of the Hogwarts seventh years exchanged confused glances, but the handful of muggle-raised students giggled. The atmosphere in the room lightened significantly and everyone returned to their brewing.