"Well of course I do," Q begins, but then stops, his face a mask of alarm. "Are you all right Severus?" he asks anxiously. "Is there anything that you want? Is there anything I can do?"
Q bites his lip to keep from laughing at Severus' indignation. "He didn't Severus." Q is very sure of that. "Hermione Granger did it for him." His smile disappears and he frowns, rubbing his forehead again. "I...I don't really remember," he falters, recalling that high, cruel voice urging him to hurry, hurry! "Are you sure you're all right?"
"Sensible, yes. Common, no. You," Q points at him, "could give Machiavelli deviousness lessons. "No one else would dose themselves with anti-venom on the chance they might be bitten by a snake." He glances at the package. "Just muggle stuff," he explains. "The magic books they have here are drivel. Written by muggles. I'm sure you know the sort." Sensing Severus' disapproval, he replies somewhat defensively. "I have to do something to support myself Severus. And I'm hardly qualified to do much. There isn't any call for defense against dark arts professors here in Margate." Q makes a face. "Not that I was any good at it."