"Enter," Harry steeled himself, and pushed his way into the office. Snape was exactly where he expected to find him, sat on a chair in front of the the hearth, another chair opposite him for Harry, a familiar row of potions set out on the desk behind him, numbered one to twelve. Harry shuffled towards the chair meant for him, but nearly tripped when he noticed something missing from the desk: the first, numberless concoction was nowhere to be seen. He recovered quickly, glancing briefly to Snape’s stony face and back to the space where the small pipette stoppered bottle should have been.  