"Only if it's ours," Snape parried reflexively, his voice and expression absent as he finished the transfer, taking care not to damage a single capillary of the magically important organ.
Only when it was safely floating in its preservative potion, did he blink and mutter "Wait a minute." He set the jar carefully aside, then turned to frown in bewilderment at Al. "What sort of masochistic maniac would invite me to a wedding?"