Disclaimer: If only the Potterverse was mine… but alas, it is not.

Tamblyn was furious. The greasy git didn't understand it was about life, not whether she got her certification or not. She stalked through the halls, scaring a few first years. She didn't mean too, honestly. They were just happy. She wasn't, and made it quite evident. She slammed the door to her chambers, the sound echoing through the halls. Flopping on her bed, she finished the crying she started in the Potions Master's Office.

He watched her leave, feeling stunned.

"Women." He muttered. In all his dealing with females, he always forgot to factor in their emotional outbursts and mood swings. He sat down and pulled the bottle of whiskey from his desk. After pouring a generous amount into a glass, he put the cap back on and took a long drink of the bitter liquid. It burned as it went down his throat. Burned so much he felt it on his chest.

Wait, that wasn't the whiskey. It was his charm! He dug the necklace out from his clothes and held it. It was hot, and glowed. That was a sign she was in harms way from a DeathEater.

He got up and rushed to her chambers.

"Miss Desautelle!" he called banging on the portrait. It was less than impressed with the abuse.

"Tamblyn, open the door!" he tried again.

No answer. The attack couldn't be now, he thought. It was too soon in the year. Draco didn't have near enough time to have planned this all. Severus wondered is Narcissa was helping her son. That still didn't explain the early warning of a horrendous attack on the auburn-haired witch.

The charm he gave her picked up her feeling as well as the energies of those in the building with her. Each DeathEater carried a specific spike in energy that the serpents picked up. If Tamblyn felt threatened or frightened, only then would the serpents react, sending a message to their counterpart on his neck to warn him.

Snape finally understood why his charm was burning him, when no other Death Eaters were present.

Tamblyn no longer felt safe with him around.

Tamblyn listened to Severus pound on her door. She heard him yell and scream for her to answer. Then it stopped. Normally she would be concerned. But right now, she didn't care. For all she knew, he could just be giving up on her completely, leaving her for dead.

'That's not fair duckling.' Her mind told her. 'He does care. He just doesn't know it yet.'

She shook her head. "No, he doesn't care. He cares more about his own skin. He always has, and he always will."

She sat alone for the rest of the night, staring at the moon through her window.

Severus went back to his dungeon rooms. His walk was of a man who was scorned by the woman he loved; only he didn't love Tamblyn. Not in a sexual way, it was more platonic, teacher student love.

'Is there such thing?' his mind asked. 'Is there such thing as teacher student love?'

"Of course there is." Severus muttered to himself.

'How do you know, when you have never loved another human being, Severus Snape?' the little voice nagged, laughing at him.

"Quiet." He snapped.

Severus spent the night in his sitting room, drinking whiskey, staring at the fire dancing wildly in his fireplace.

His head hurt. Why did his head hurt? Bloody hell, it felt like his temples were magnetic opposites, thrusting against each other to split his head wide open.

'Maybe that would relieve the pressure.' Taunted the little voice.

"Since when did my conscious take a care in what I was doing with our lives?" he muttered, trying to get out of the chair he hadn't moved from all night. He moved towards his bathroom, catching a glimpse of himself in the mirror. So this was what he would look like if he was dead…..

She was warm, but stiff. She noted that fluffy blankets were pulled up to her chin, and a pillow was hugged tight to her chest. She had been crying all last night, putting herself to sleep when she finally ran out of tears to cry.

'Would you throw yourself at a man who had absolutely no feeling?' asked the nagging voice from last night.

"Apparently I have. Leave me allow. I like to wallow in peace." She rolled over, getting out of bed. Her joints protested. She walked to her wardrobe, seeing herself in the mirror. I guess my parents were right, I do cry pretty….

With a cup of coffee in hand, both Severus and Tamblyn headed towards the dungeon office. Neither knew of the other's whereabouts this morning, and both would have to agree they didn't care either.

Tamblyn rounded a corner, yawning, running right into a black clad man who cursed as coffee spilt down his clothing.

Severus mentally planned out the day, one version with Tamblyn to help and one without. As he exited through a doorway, he felt burning liquid spill down his front. He cursed loudly.

They both looked up at the same time from Severus' clothes to meet eyes. They held their gaze only a moment, and then each looked away.

"Morning, Miss Desautelle." He muttered.

"Hullo, Professor." She mumbled.

Awkward silence ensued for a few moments. Tamblyn shifted uncomfortably.

"I think I shall head to my chambers to change." Severus blurted out, catching himself too late to stop.

"Good idea." And with that, she left towards the Potions class.

Snape watched her leave, wondering why she was heading that way. They had 3rd year Dark Arts first thing on a Tuesday morning.

Shrugging, he headed to his chambers for fresh robes.

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