Severus' eyes narrowed, and the fingers of free hand tightened ever so slightly around the edge of the podium. He'd allowed himself to believe that without Potter, without Weasley, without Granger, this class might settle into something more tolerable than its usual state of barely restrained mutiny. Foolish, yes, but he'd so hoped. He let the silence hang, glaring dead straight at Kirke's insolent face - that dark hair, those bloody glasses.
It was as though he were being haunted. It wasn't fair at all.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Kirke," he said, stepping slowly out from behind the podium. "I must have misheard you. I know Gryffindor House can't possibly afford another twenty points off - having already accomplished another glorious Hogwarts first, a points deficit." His mouth thinned; one corner curled up, vaguely sinister. "Please - repeat yourself."