"What am I to do?" Gasped the young woman, still staring at the message. She couldn't believe she was actually contemplating leaving, but there it was, as clear as day. Given to the fact she didn't throw the message directly into the fire.

I am your friend.

What is this supposed to mean? Is it a trap? It surely was a trap, all the other Death Eaters had been practically yearning to have their way with her for weeks. If the rough strategy failed, and convincing their master failed, were sweet words and roses the option?

But then again, he told her he knew she wasn't under the Imperius, and he hadn't told Severus. Maybe he thinks I've broken free of it and Severus doesn't know. Could he actually be on our side, and presume Severus is on theirs? And he was offering her a way to escape – not something many Death Eaters would do. But then again, if it was a trap after all, the sole fact that she'd broken free, as he believed, from the Imperius would get Severus killed, if ever Alastair told Voldemort that the Potions Master had lost control over his puppet.

If Alastair was a friend after all, they could use his support and help. In this case, she should meet with him secretly and reveal Severus' true colours. But had she any right to do that? No, she hadn't. So if his intentions weren't friendly, she shouldn't meet with him anyway, because Severus could be in trouble. But then again, if he was friendly, Tara couldn't bear him believing that she was kept his friend's hostage. Plus, her papa could have convinced him to do it. And if that was so, her not coming to the designed meeting would send a definite message that she was beyond saving.

She briefly contemplated showing the message to Severus, but she knew it would make him angry again. Angry at her, because he would know she was thinking about it, and angry at Alastair for either suggesting he was capable of keeping people prisoners or trying to lure him into a trap and having him found out.

She pinched her nose. She knew she needed more information.

-oOo-

"Severus?"

"Huh?"

"Who's this Alastair anyway?"

"You've been thinking about him." His tone was accusatory.

"Yes, I have." She admitted. "But not in the way you imagine."

He finally looked up from his parchment: "When I got to know him, he was an apothecary in Nocturn Alley. He would buy my creations and concoctions and we would eventually become friends."

"Back then, did you know he sympathised with Vol– You-Know-Whom?"

"We found out in a meeting where we were both present."

"So it was never the question of who was first?"

"I believe not. Why you ask?"

"He seemed nice. I couldn't believe someone like him would actually be a Death Eater."

"Death Eaters are not all like Dolohov and Greyback, you know." He snorted.

"Have you actually made up your mind about whether his warning was genuine or not?"

"No, I'm still at a loss about that one."

"What about Alastair's family?"

"Tara, you're starting to sound like Umbridge with all those questions." He growled, his voice tired. "Why ask this much? Are you actually considering his... offer?"

"Maybe." Was all she said. Well, I cannot lie to him, I am actually considering an offer, but it is entirely different from what Severus imagines.

"I hope you're joking." He drawled. "I mean, he could be a devout follower, for all you know. Besides, you cannot just leave me, how would I look?!"

She was on the verge of telling him about Alastair's message, but then she decided against it. No, I don't want Severus to know about this yet. Alastair would know he knows. And that would ruin everything.

But what would it ruin, precisely? She didn't know.

Why was she even contemplating leaving in the first place? She knew she loved Severus Snape at this point, yes, she loved him, there was no use denying that. Perhaps she felt lonely, cooped up with her only friend up in the tower for weeks. Perhaps she wanted back the freedom that was once hers, the freedom of speech and comportment that she had to abandon to successfully maintain their ruse with the Imperius. Maybe she was sick, sick of being Severus' puppet, even just for appearance's sake. Perhaps, somewhere deep down in her soul, there was a desperate need to be loved, and valued, and cherished, and approved of. Tara felt like she was suffocating, suffocating in this claustrophobic situation with no immediate way out. This could take years, she suddenly realised, before Voldemort is dead, wouldn't it be better to spend it somewhere safe, away from all this? But she blinked quickly. How can you be so selfish, Tara, she thought. After what you promised your uncle, you would desert this place he so recently entrusted to you for your own personal convenience? No, I'd never do that, she thought. I'd never leave Severus. He needs me, although the best treatment that I can receive from him is a decent conversation over a cup of tea. No, he doesn't love me, but that doesn't bother me. I'd never leave him. I'll just meet with Alastair and explain.

-oOo-

Tara was at her paperwork again, when Severus looked up from his research notes he was reading. The only thing he said was: "Second floor. Muggle Studies classroom. I think Alecto is about to have fun with some third years."

"How the hell do you know that?"

"I'm the Headmaster. Out with you." He said sternly, and Tara, unwilling as she was, had to get up and sprint towards the classroom.

Taking the stairs by three at a time, she was soon out of breath, but in front of the designated classroom nevertheless. As she sped through the corridor, she threw the classroom door open, scaring half the students out of their wits.

"Have you just cast an Unforgivable, Alecto?" Tara asked sweetly, desperately trying to suppress the heavy panting that was bottled up in her lungs and dangerously threatening to crash them to pieces.

"Yes, but– How do– Why do–"

"The Headmaster of Hogwarts would like to remind you that the use of Unforgivables on students is officially prohibited. Mr Pearce, if you'd come with me please, the Headmaster would like to oversee your punishment himself." Tara chirped sweetly, and held the door open. Alecto's nostrils flared, and clenching her hands into fists, her wand emitted a few fiery sparks. She was furious.

"You filthy little–"

"Pardon?" Leading the student away, Tara turned towards the teacher, cunningly pretending to be temporarily short of hearing.

"Nothing. Just go." Spat Alecto through gritted teeth, and as the classroom door closed shut behind them, she set the teacher's desk on fire.

-oOo-

"Seve-Severus..." Tara was desperately trying to catch her breath, clutching the edge of her desk desperately. "This has been the fourth time today. For how long do you think I'll be able to do this?"

"For as long as will be necessary, Tara." He cast her a stern look. "Do you think I enjoy this? Do you think I enjoy being constantly on the tips of my toes, paying attention to every little word these imbeciles (Tara wasn't sure if he meant the students or the Carrow siblings) utter? Do you think I like playing the secret hero, while pretending to be the worst Headmaster Hogwarts has ever had?"

"N-No, Severus, I…"

"Then stop whining." He cut her short and bent over his parchment again.

"I'm not your shepherd dog, Severus!" She blurted. "And it's not my fault that your friends are incapable of following your orders!"

As soon as the words left her mouth, she knew she had crossed a line.

"My friends…" He drawled, getting up from his chair, and seizing Tara's shoulder roughly so that she couldn't help but look directly at him, he continued in the icy drawl he normally saved for his students, "wanted to have some fun with you for weeks. I didn't let them, pretending you were... unavailable. But perhaps I'll let it… slip that this isn't currently the case anymore. What do you say to that, secretary?"

"Have you really no concern for me– no respect for me, whatsoever?!" She snapped, perhaps more loud than she should have.

"At the moment, no." He sneered and with three swift steps, he was at the secret passageway to his lab. "I suggest you start taking a Calming Draught on regular basis, darling. You're getting hysterical."

And having said that, he descended the stairs quickly, leaving Tara staring after him in disbelief.

"Hysterical?! Hysterical?! I am hysterical?!" She shrieked, took his half-empty inkpot and threw it down the stairs after him. "I'm keeping the bloody school together, away from resembling war trenches, and I am hysterical?!"

-oOo-

It was a dark November night. The sky was crystal clear, no cloud in sight, and the moon was shining with unforeseen intensity. Alastair Vance landed noiselessly on the Astronomy Tower, and not seeing anyone, he leaned casually on the battlements. His long cloak was dancing in the mild breeze and his dark blue eyes were glistening in anticipation.

"Mr Vance..." There was a shaky female voice. Stepping out from the shadows of the castle tower, Miss Henley tentatively revealed herself. Taking a few nervous steps towards him, her hands were clasped at her bosom, nervous what to do, what to fidget with.

"I was beginning to worry you wouldn't come." Alastair smiled, and closing the distance between him and the woman, he said softly: "You've made the right choice."

"Mr Vance, I just came to tell you... To explain... Sir, I cannot go with you, you don't understand..."

"Hush, my dear, everything will be over soon." He whispered, his gentle voice caressing Tara's soul. Taking her gently by her shoulders, he leaned forward and before Tara could stop him, he kissed her gently.

So overcome by his actions that she forgot to react, Tara could feel his gentle kiss on her lips, could feel his tongue gently entering her mouth, and just as she was starting to give in to that powerful fluttering feeling in her stomach, she felt something hard and foreign being inserted into her mouth by his swift tongue. A pill?

And then everything went black.

-oOo-

Something soft.

Something big and soft.

A bed.

My own bed?

No, there's too much light for that.

Whose bed is this?

Why am I here?

Tara slowly opened her eyes. She was looking at an unfamiliar ceiling. Suddenly sick with fear, she tried to wiggle her legs and arms.

All working.

She sat up and looked around. It seemed that she was in a strange, but comfortably furnished room, Art Nouveau style, she thought. She caught a glimpse of the bedside table – there was her wand, carefully laid out for her to grab. So she wasn't a prisoner then.

Another disturbing thought came to her mind. Taking her wand, she cast a diagnostic charm at between her legs. The charm came out clear.

At least I was not raped, she thought. Where am I? What happened? The last thing I remember is the Hogwarts roof...

"Oh, come on," said a familiar voice from the door, "I don't usually drug my female companions before I make them scream in pleasure, how low do you think I could stoop?"

"Pretty low." Tara growled. Alastair Vance was leaning on the ornate doorframe, his face as handsome and immaculate as ever, his tight-fitted clothes resembling a medieval monarch, his blue eyes glistening with amusement.

"Come on, sweetheart." He walked to the bed and stroked her cheek affectionately. "You should be grateful. I rescued you."

"Rescued me?! Who told you I needed rescuing, you silly fool!" Tara yelled and jumped up. Gods, Severus will be livid. Oh Gods. Oh no no no no no...

"It's alright." Alastair gave her one of his irresistible smiles and stroked her cheek again. "He cannot hear you. He won't harm you."

"He never harmed me!" Tara cowered from his touch, trying to wriggle out of the bed.

"I wouldn't do that, if I were you, kitten." Alastair drawled softly. But Tara paid him no attention. As soon as she took a few steps from the bed, she collapsed on the floor.

"What the-"

"I told you, sweetheart." She felt herself being lifted off the floor as lightly as a feather by two strong arms. Holding her very, very close, Alastair slowly carried her back to bed. Oh Gods, this is exactly how I imagined Severus to do this– Oh no, no, no, no...

"What did you give me, you bastard?" Tara rasped, as she tried to pull herself as far from his chest as possible, with no results.

"Language, sweetheart." Alastair lowered her to the bed, lowering himself dangerously close as well. Contrary to her own thoughts and wishes, Tara felt the butterflies in her belly flutter and something deep, deep inside her tightened in anticipation, "or I might do something to deserve such salutation. It wouldn't be unpleasant to you, mind you, darling."

He straightened up: "As for what I gave you, I hope you'll allow the poor apothecary to keep his secrets, my dearest girl. But don't worry, it's only momentarily incapacitating... A good thing, too, because we don't want you to run back straight to him, do we, kitten?"

"Why do you hate Severus so much," Tara said through gritted teeth of anger, "that you would rob him of his closest friend – and you are calling yourself his friend, too!"

"My, my, I am wondering if he has you under the Imperius after all." Alastair said pensively and pointing his wand at Tara's head, he muttered a diagnostic spell. The spell clearly showing nothing, he shook his head in disbelief.

"Or perhaps a love potion? Yes, that would suit him nicely, why didn't I think of that?" He murmured, and looking very, very closely into Tara's huge eyes, he shook his head again. Then, out of the blue, he leaned forward and planted a hungry, passionate kiss on her mouth.

"Not a love potion, it seems." He murmured, barely audibly, against her mouth, and deepened the kiss.

It was the same kiss as the one on the Astronomy Tower. Tara's head began to spin, and contrary to her own best judgement, she moaned softly and entangled her arms around his neck. The knot inside her tightened even more, and she suddenly felt a small button between her legs starting to ache, longing to be touched. Lowering her on her back with his kiss, he was now on top of her, supporting himself by his muscular arms.

"Tell me you don't want this..." He breathed and buried his face into the nape of her neck, gently trailing his kisses down her collarbone. The woman moaned, louder than before, and buried her fingers in his luxuriously soft, wavy honeycoloured locks. "Tell me to stop... and I will."

-oOo-

When Severus Snape walked into his Headmaster Office the next morning, there was no sight of his lovely secretary. Knowing he had left almost all the paperwork on her shoulders, and feeling rather guilty for doing so, he allowed her some time to lie in. God knows she deserves it, he thought. Could it also be her stubbornness at my treating her rough yesterday? I've really been a dick to her lately, haven't I... He decided to let the worrying thought slip out of his mind. Whatever it was that she was pissed at, he was sure they would resolve it eventually. He was even ready to apologise, if it came to it...

He glanced at the battered watch she had given him for Christmas. Goddamnit, he thought, the blasted thing stopped working: both hands were pointed at five past one. But when it was nearly noon, and she still didn't show up, he started to feel uneasy.

On his way to lunch, he quickly stopped by her chamber door. Knocking lightly, he murmured: "Tara? Are you in?"

No response.

"Are you not feeling well?"

Again, no response.

He hesitated slightly. Being the Headmaster of Hogwarts had its privileges, and he could let himself in any room he wanted to, but still... He hadn't let himself into her room before, even if he would be sure she wasn't in. But now, something was going on. He had to take the risk.

Placing his palm at the knob of the door, the wood panel flew open. What he saw was an empty bedroom, with a bed carefully made.

This meant that his secretary was either running around the castle somewhere, or she was ill. Or she hadn't slept in her bed last night, he thought, but the last possibility seemed odd at best. Why wouldn't she sleep in her own bed? Unless...

"Dobby."

The elf appeared instantly: "Master Snape?"

"Is Miss Henley somewhere in the castle?"

"Miss is not, Master Snape."

"Is Miss Henley somewhere in Hogsmeade, Dobby?" Severus growled dangerously and his eyes flashed like the eyes of a hawk.

"D-Dobby will check, Master Snape, sir." The elf squealed, clearly terrified of Master Severus' current disposition.

"You better find her, Dobby." Severus drawled dangerously. With a slight pop, the elf disappeared.

Severus sank down on her bed with a sigh. Gosh, you silly girl, where are you? Why do you make it so difficult for me to protect you?

-oOo-

"Miss Henley is not being in the village or in the castle, Headmaster." Dobby dutifully reported some minutes later in the Headmaster's Office. "Miss Henley is being gone, sir."

"Well done, Dobby. Bring me Mr Macnair."

A gnawing feeling of panic started to chew on his consciousness, but he tried to ignore it.

-oOo-

She moaned again, and hugged the man closer to her chest. The wizard who, at this moment, was making every cell in her body tingle and ache for more. The aching feeling between her legs increased every second and she realized she wanted him. More than anything. But she also realized this felt wrong. Very wrong.

"N-No..." She rasped, trying to see beyond the clouded paradise she was currently floating in. "S-Stop..."

"You don't like this, my dearest?" His question was but a mere whisper against the skin of her left breast.

"I-I do... But you aren't him." She whispered. A lone tear rolled down her cheek. Oh God, what have I done... He'll hate me... He'll hate me for good... What have I done?!

-oOo-

"So you're trying to tell me," the Headmaster's voice was but a deadly wheeze, "that none of you stationed here or in Hogsmeade has seen her, and I am to believe it?!"

"If you don't believe us, Severus, you can bring this matter directly to the Dark Lord," Avery smirked, "I'm more than sure he would oblige you."

"Dismissed." He snapped, and rubbed at his temples. This wasn't good. This wasn't good at all.

By sunset, even a troll would have realised that Miss Henley was missing. But the question was, how? The castle was guarded and heavily protected: no one could sneak in, or out, without him knowing.

I have to speak to Aberforth, Severus thought, and only the thought of going back to Hog's Head made his blood curl. But go back he must.