"I never claimed to be Oscar Wilde Severus," Q tells him blithely.
Q frowns. "Well, wouldn't it make a difference if the velvet were taken from an animal that was dead?"
"Are you referring to the potion? Because I can guess," Q says the word with some distaste, "but I'm not likely to be right. Especially about the stirring." He rather thinks there might be something more to this. It's hard to tell with Severus sometimes.
"What else?" he asks, gruffly. "I'm not a vindictive person." Q taps his teeth with his pen. "Are you doing a purification ritual? Driving out the old gods or spirits?" He smiles. "I rather got the idea that it was more an act of wanton pyromania. Carefully controlled of course."