Not for the first time that night, Snape found himself questioning whether or not Moon was deliberately flaunting his wealth. It was entirely possible, but it was more likely that he'd been a child of the gentry, forever surrounded by affluence and therefore somewhat oblivious to it by now. Snape waited for the customary stab of envy to wrench his insides, but only felt a twinge of nausea as the carriage started forward. True, he'd felt no appetite for food as of late, but he'd thought that his appetite for wealth was insatiable. His eyes flicked about the interior of the carriage, but the gleam of gold stirred nothing in him but apathy. "I assume you have some destination in mind?" He asked, staring out the window.