#faerietanith

The Professor loomed in close, squinting down at the young Ravenclaw with the most grave of expressions.

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@faerietanith

She looked at the offered hand as though the man held all the answers within the lines of his palm. It was all Tanith could do not to flinch away from the weight of the truth in his words. She could deny it all she wanted, convince herself that this was the only way out of the suffocating dark, but she was suddenly all too aware that was far from the case.

For a moment Tanith simply stood staring hard at Snape’s hand, her knees shaking in the cold. The next second she released a painful breath of air and tears began to roll unchecked down her pale face.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Under normal circumstances, seeing a person in tears might have caused him amusement; a sense of satisfaction. Often he saw it as a means of a person accepting humility after showing disrespect in his classes, but this was an entirely different situation. Heartless as he seemed, Professor Snape found no joy in the suffering of others when it was not deserved. The break in Tanith’s face showed an opening to the idea that her path ahead was forked rather than one inevitable direction.

He took the trembling girl by the elbow and helped her down to the floor. Cold. At least she was feeling. Approaching footsteps echoed a short way down the corridor, so he turned in such a way as to block the Ravenclaw from view for the moment. The students scuttled by without pausing, thankfully. No sense in having her peers cause a scene and driving the poor girl to hysterics if it could be avoided. When the coast was clear, he shed his outer cloak and draped it over her shoulders, blatantly avoiding eye contact so it would seem less awkward.