Severus looks over at him again, not showcasing any particular expression. He doesn't even look terribly tired, given he more or less always looks tired with his dull skin and exhaustion-shadowed eyes.

He shrugs. Blanks about the washing machine? He's got it figured out, more or less. Blanks about Charles? The open-ended questions and suppositions on his file? Merlin. Severus wouldn't know what to do with it. If Charles wants to think about those things, he can. Maybe he can find a way to do something about those notes made about himself; Severus isn't a therapist.

"I'm a schoolteacher, I know everything already." Humorless humor. Eyes on the back of his head, detentions for everyone.