The Slytherin listened, skeptically, as Miss Dashwood explained. He was not so high in the instep that he thought she couldn't know what she was doing, but was still suitably bristled from not being successful on his own. At least she wasn't an ass about it—if it had been Fraser, or even Crick, nowhere near as much care would have been taken with Elijah's pride.

"You make this potion often, then?" he asked, skepticism shifting to surprise.