Most would be relieved to find themselves in Parvati's company rather than Draco's. Snape was not one of them. While he couldn't quite remember her being allied with any disruptive instance in his class, it -had- been five years since she'd graduated, and since she'd been in Gryffindor it was relatively safe to assume that she'd been mildly obnoxious, at best. The manor's decor only affirmed his suspicion- in place of the gleaming silver artifacts that used to hang from the walls and line the tables [some of them ancient family heirlooms, undoubtably] were vases of yellow flowers and enchanted paintings of flowing green landscapes. The drapes had been pulled back from the tall windows, flooding the room in warm light and banishing the shadows to the deepest corners of the room. Certainly not up to par with Snape's aesthetic tastes. But where was Draco? Snape was about to tell Parvati that Draco had invited him earlier that day, but he bit his tongue. His arrival seemed to have taken Parvati by surprise, and it wasn't unreasonable to assume that Parvati hadn't been informed about Snape's visit beforehand for a reason... Snape studied her face for a moment. Her eyes were slightly too large for her face, which in itself wouldn't have been so unpleasant if her stare hadn't been completely vacant. Judging by the way her lips hung open slightly, unconsciously, this expression wasn't uncommon. Snape decided right then that if Draco was looking to off his wife, he would have nothing to do with it- Toxic potions had never been the most discreet way to murder, anyway. "My owl had a run in with a rather aggressive lamp post on the way to deliver my message, so I thought I'd come speak to Draco myself."