"I should just about think he did everything he bloody well intended to do," Severus says sourly, "no pun intended."
He raises an eyebrow. "The Headmaster is one of those consummate Slytherins who allays suspicion all his life by being Sorted elsewhere and playing the part to perfection, while I am a man of inflexible opinions. Therefore, it took several weeks for my suspicions to solidify. Either he then created a preliminary plan in the, if you will excuse the expression, twinkle of an eye, or he had already formulated one." Bitterly, "I still say the final product would have worked if Potter hadn't been a juvenile righteous nosy-parker with a hero complex."
"That Western society has made its concepts of darkness and evil inseparable, which is bollocks. Darkness is natural. Obscurity, subtlety, power-in-silence... it's nothing to do with 'shades of grey.' The moon has two faces, that's all, and neither has any concern with human morality." His mouth twitches in amusement. "I, er, think the gesture was rather more metaphorical than that..."
"Expressions of get-the-hell-away-from-me,-crazy-roommate?" he suggests, and looms closer without moving. Very, very quietly, "Who."
He shrugs. "I have to admit that its effects haven't been thoroughly studied. It seems to have a more profound effect on male pheromonal receptors, but whether that's because of the antler velvet or because, in public, boys gulp where women sip, I've no idea. What I can say for certain is that we have considerably less trouble in this arena than other schools, including our own before we began using the potion, and that in the years of using it I've observed no remarkable side effects and only one allergy, which the student in question had brought on himself by a habit of eating apples and oranges whole."
"Its fire-prevention spells," he muses with a highly unpleasant sort of nostalgia, "were scarcely effective at all."