I know I shouldn't feed the trolls, but:

digthewriter: (you're not.)
longdistance: I'm tempted to congratulate you on commenting on chapter 63, lamenting on the un-originality of another marriage law fic, when it's labelled as such in the description, but instead I'll leave you with a verse from one of my favourite songs:

"All due respect here, there's no respect due

If you spend all day online just cutting down what people do
My words to you are

Fuck you and you and you and you
You're cool but fuck you and I'm outta here" Illy - Swear Jar

One more note: It was curious having three comments agreeing with each other in the space of an hour, all guests without attached profiles... very curious.

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Among my most prized possessions are words that I have never spoken. ~Orson Rega Card

Sometimes it is the person closest to us who must travel the furthest distance to be our friend. ~Robert Brault

I felt it shelter to speak to you. ~Emily Dickinson

The friend within the man is that part of him which belongs to you and opens to you a door which never, perhaps, is opened to another. Such a friend is true, and all he says is true; and he loves you even if he hates you in other mansions of his heart. ~Antoine de Saint-Exupéry

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Hermione still felt the warmth in her hands and stretched them surreptitiously, not sure if the lingering sensation was borne from the oath or something not worth thinking about. The glass apparatus was fascinating, and she moved around the aged workbench with curiosity. Was this where Nicholas Flamel had created the Philosopher's stone? She traced her fingers across scorch marks littering the wood, and the dust collected by years of disuse, peering into the bottom of flasks too cloudy now to see through.

He returned from the empty kitchen, having cast the necessary Homenum Revelio to ensure they were alone. He stood in the entrance to the workshop, leaning against the wooden spiral stairs that separated the room from the parlour beyond, and watched as Granger poured over the Alchemical instruments. He found himself speaking before sense caught up with him.

"They were the first things I was drawn to, too, when I was your age. It's not actually where Flamel created the stone, but the alchemy is fascinating."

Hermione looked up at him, that same curiosity clear in her gaze, and he moved to the other side of the bench.

"It is. Figuring out that Fluffy was guarding the Philosopher's stone was the first time I helped Harry really."

"I find it hard to believe you hadn't helped him with more than one essay before that." Severus tried to ignore the smile his comment had won, and wondered if it were only the damage to his vocal chords that robbed his tone of the acid intended.

"Helped him against Voldemort, I mean. Before going through the trap door with him, of course."

Hermione watched as Snape rose one of those magnanimous eyebrows at her, and felt stupid for recollecting with him, when at the time they had believed he was who they were protecting the stone from.

"I wasn't allowed to forget that you had beaten my logic puzzle for the remainder of your second year, Minervra brought it up so often."

Hermione laughed quietly and was struck once more by how open he was being.

"It was brilliant of course. Most wizards don't possess an ounce of Logic." Snape started at her praise, before hiding his face behind his long bangs and turning his attention ostensibly to the vials in front of him.

"As the dunderheaded research you bequeathed to me has proven. How could you work for such absolute idiots for nearly a year? Or was it familiar, after being surrounded by your doltish friends?"

Severus's voice was intentionally gruff as he sought to return the distance between them, doing as he originally planned and berating the moronic research she had handed him. He waited for her usual shrill rejoinder and was shocked at the snort she emitted.

"You have no idea. Truly." Hermione walked around the table, and examined the runes stitched into the dusty drapes, tracing her fingers across them.

Severus, still at a loss for how the situation had turned from him, turned from her and strode into the parlour, charming the ancient furniture free from dust before taking a seat. The bottle of Firewhiskey still in his cloak sat awkwardly, so he retrieved it, staring longingly at it but placing it on the low coffee table in front of the lounge instead.

She followed him into the parlour and tried to school her features as she eyed the bottle before him. For once he wasn't looking for her reaction, and Hermione watched as he tilted his head back against the ancient upholstery of the sofa. There was one other seat, a chaise lounge, absolutely blanketed in dust so she did her best to sit on the sofa with him as though it wasn't one of the most surreal things that had happened in the last few days.

"Sullivan once had us working on a project for six weeks, attempting to create an all purpose reactant to poisons. Something that would work on a wide array of poisons to restore the victim, which of course went against the premise of Golpalott's Third Law and-" Hermione almost chuckled remembering how incensed this had made her at the time, when Snape interrupted.

"Is just an attempt to re-create a bezoar." His voice was deadpan, but Hermione could see the contempt in his eyes and laughed.

"Yes! And every time I mentioned that he fobbed me off, until finally six weeks later he declared it wasn't viable, after wasting all that time and resources!''

"How did he manage it?" Snape asked with the smallest uplift in the corner of his lips.

"Manage what?" Hermione eyed him, confused, "He didn't manage it of course..."

"How did he manage to successfully fob you off?" Hermione glared at him, until his gruff laugh brought a rueful smile to her own lips.

"The other apprentice, Lucy - sorry, Lucillia Blishwick, keeps my, what does she call them? My 'Gryffindor ways' in check with merciless teasing."

"Blishwick." Severus foggily recalled through the languor the whiskey had left him in. "Slytherin, graduated three years ago. Mother was a pureblood but kept well adrift of the death eaters after her husband was killed in the first war. Lucilia was a good, capable student."

Hermione bristled for a moment, unsure why his praise of Lucy as a student sat so oddly with her and the next words were out of her mouth before she could give them censure.

"I forgot, one needs to be in Slytherin to be a good student."

Severus eyed the witch before him and almost laughed at her perpetual need for approval.

"You were a capable student." He deadpanned.

"I was an excellent student and you know it."

"You were an average to capable student then, and you're an average to capable ministry malcontent now. Happy?"

Hermione only sniffed as Snape smirked. Severus eyed the bottle once more and felt his fingers twitch.

"Drink?" The offer left his lips and penetrated the short silence than had grown between them.

Hermione glanced once more at the bottle before him and shook her head.

"I'd love a cup of tea though." It felt like the most natural thing in the world to ask for until the prospect of Snape making her a cup of tea sunk in, and she made to say that he needn't worry- but he was in the kitchen already.

"It's okay really, I -" She called out, but was interrupted by his slightly muffled reply.

"There's absolutely nothing else in this kitchen. Flamel never kept food in the house. But when I was here, I left ah, there. Merlin knows how old these tea leaves are." Snape snapped his wand at the copper kettle on the hub, and examined the remnants of what was once good quality tea.

"Don't worry!" Hermione couldn't help but feel the absurdity of the situation get to her. "I'll have some of your- firewhiskey is it?"

Snape eyed the tea leaves once more and waited for the kettle to boil, despite her protestations. Really he was relieved to leave the confines of the couch. He hadn't expected such a genial response. He had insulted her job, her friends, and still hadn't been able to stop the pleasant conversation. God, he'd even catered to her incessant need for approval without the slightest temptation to lambast her. Coming here three sheets to the wind was a bad idea. He was laughing with an ex-student. He was making her a cup of tea.

Pathetic

Severus was shaken from groggy thoughts of how to rescind the affability between them with yet another question from the girl, called from the other room.

"Why were you here, when you were my age?"

Snape sighed and watched the kettle boil, gripping the marble counter before him. He let the whistle of steam fill the pause and debated with himself. What was the harm? Perhaps a reminder of who he was would shock the girl and reaffirm the distance between them.

Hermione listened to the whistle of the kettle and strained, able to hear the sounds of him pouring water and the chink of crockery while waiting for his reply. She knew she was staring as he came into the room, her tea floating before him, his face impenetrable as he sat once more. She plucked the hot mug out of the air before her, and hesitantly sipped, doing her best not to make a face at the weak brew. She placed it on the low table in front of her and wondered if she should repeat herself when his quiet, gravelling voice finally sounded.

"It was the summer before I started teaching. I had just been released from Azkaban, after my trial. Albus wanted me to make an appearance on the continent, to be seen in the right circles and keep my ear to the ground for escaped death eaters. Few were stupid enough to make contact with me, but others, were less than pleased I'd been released and saught me out for retribution." Severus cast a sidelong glance and met her now contemplating gaze, and looked away at the vestiges of sympathy emerging.

"It was a way for Albus to prove I was committed to the cause, but it had the added benefit of keeping me out of sight and mind as I… recovered."

Snape resolved to say nothing more, and reached for the bottle before him, taking a swig without bothering to summon a glass.

"Did you meet Flamel?"

Severus felt a clench of tension release at her innocuous question, and quickly attributed it to the burn of whiskey settling down his throat.

"No. He and his wife had relocated to Devon by then."

"Devon."

Severus felt light as the urge to laugh caught him once more at her incredulous question.

"Devon."

Hermione did laugh, before taking another sip of the weak tea, letting the cup warm her hands and relaxing slightly as fatigue caught up with her. With a start she realised she had completely neglected the time, distracted as she was by the novelty of her first non-combative conversation with Severus Snape.

"Is there a Radio here?"

Snape raised an inquisitive eyebrow in response and she hastily explained herself.

"I was meant to find a magical radio. George is reinstating Potterwatch tonight. Well. Granger watch. I don't know exactly what he's calling it. But I was meant to listen and see how it went."

Snape rose silently and tried to recall where he had seen the large wooden wireless. The last time he had been here the rooms hadn't spun so much. The rooms.

"There's one upstairs, from memory." He stalled as he reached the spiralled wooden staircase and wondered at the propriety of leading her into the upstairs bedroom and recalled Skeeter's observation of these memories with a scowl. In-advisedly, he waved his wand in an Accio, and heard the clunk from above them, as the large, mahogany box and antique bronze mesh and dials spun into the room. He directed it as quickly and carefully as he could to the parlour and ignored Hermione's grimace as it settled with a thunk upon the low coffee table.

Hermione couldn't help but feel whatever tentative amiability that had built up between them was about to be shredded by the broadcast, but turned the dials of the wireless regardless. As static filled the air between them, she tried to reach the correct airwave station, but faltered upon remembering she needed her wand. Without asking, she turned to find Severus pointing his wand at the dials, magically tuning it to the same digits the twins had used during the war. She opened her mouth ready to ask how he had known the station before he forestalled her.

"I couldn't believe it myself, but I actually looked forward to hearing from the Weasley twins and their foolish broadcast that last year. It incensed the Dark Lord of course, and it was banned in Hogwarts."

"Which only made more students listen."

"Naturally." Severus concentrated on the delicate mechanism before him that continued to emit the sound of static. "What was tonight's passcode?"

Hermione felt the blush returning to her cheeks once more.

"Brightest witch of her age."

Snape scoffed immediately, and caustically replied: "I'm not saying that." but the radio lurched to life and the sound of voices was brought into life by her words alone. She glared at him none-the less before being distracted by the familiar sounds of George and Lee, cheerfully presiding over the air waves once more. For a moment, despite her current surreal situation, Hermione was transported back into that tent, hungry, desperate and on the run. She looked at Snape, who had reclined his head on the upholstery once more, bottle clasped in his hand, and wondered how he had felt, alone at Hogwarts, hearing the forbidden broadcast. She sipped her tea, to stop herself from asking, and let the cheerful hum of the wireless wash over her.

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"All due respect here, there's no respect due

If you spend all day online just cutting down what people do
My words to you are

Fuck you and you and you and you
You're cool but fuck you and I'm outta here" Illy - Swear Jar