Chapter Forty-one: The Struggle of Honesty

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"And the terror and the horror; God, I wonder why we bother. All the glamour and the trauma and the fucking melodrama."

-Lorde, Sober II (Melodrama)


She wasn't sure what she had expected to walk into when she found Snape, but it certainly wasn't him hunched over a bottle of vodka with his hands raking through his hair. She'd landed in his office, the one that would always belong to Dumbledore in her mind, to see him so vulnerably under stress that it was awkward when he hadn't even noticed her appearance.

She cleared her throat awkwardly, "Is this a bad time?"

His head darted up, black eyes that always held all the secrets of the world, brutally narrowed at her before recognition flashed and they softened into genuine curiosity. "Ember?"

She shrugged non-committal, before walking and sitting herself at home in the chair across from his desk just like the old times. It would have been a good idea had she come up with a plan before apparating, but alas she'd just have to make do. Perhaps she could even gather information on the new opposition, especially if he was already indisposed. But she got the feeling that he had only begun to toe with the liquor.

His mouth gaped open in an expression that she had never expected to find on such a well masked face. He looked at her as if she was a ghost. It might have been the first time she had ever struck him speechless and she inwardly found an inch of pride fill in her. She was learning this game, slowly but surely.

"Where have you been?" He questioned like he wanted to spit the words at her but they came out in a rushed, almost relieved, river.

"All over. I'm sure Greyback could inform you with some specifics." She replied snidely. She trusted Snape more than she trusted anyone on that side of the wizarding divide, but she was still creeping on the side of caution. She was determined that she wouldn't be a reason to flame any sort of metaphysical fire.

His eyes narrowed at her accusation. "It wasn't my idea to send him after the two of you."

A silence settled over the two of them, almost as if they had come across a line neither knew what to do with. Just then, Snape reached below Ember's line of vision and fished two glasses out of a side drawer. He placed them both on top of the nearly bare desk and began pouring hefty helpings of vodka in each. He slid one over to her, effectively breaking any sort of grudge held tension.

She accepted with her trademarked sweet smile and took a slight slip in good faith, trying not to wince as the burn dripped down her throat. Snape leaned back, his glass hanging loosely at his side. "How did the two of you manage to escape without leaving any trail besides the fact you'd withdrawn money from Gringotts?"

She smirked over her glass, pride at besting those who had once upon a time underestimated her filled her once more. It was a smirk almost identical to that of her husbands Snape noticed and wondered what else had changed in the near ten months since he had last seen her.

"I healed the dark mark."

"I gathered that. Even so, how did the two of you fly under the radar for so long? Greyback only found you a week ago."

She shrugged. "Had to keep moving around. We didn't use magic unless absolutely necessary and blended in with the muggles."

"I'm sure Draco loved that."

Her smiled turned into more of a grimace. "He's learned that magic and superiority aren't the only ways to live. He assimilated quite well, mind you."

"Did he now?"

The way he said it made her double think on how much Draco had really learned in their self-imposed isolation but she didn't let it actually hook its claws into her thoughts. She let it pass by with nothing more than a glance.

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