Severus raised a brow, not looking at Sabine, but a slight smile crept across his features as he held the door to his office open for her. Friend. Imagine that.

Putting the coffee on to brew, he grew more serious as he turned over plans in his mind. Perhaps... He halted and spoke out loud. "Perhaps it would be a good idea to begin your Occlumency lessons tonight."

Friend? Friend was such a flippant word to Sabine- she tossed it about in everyday language; her life was constantly filled with new friends, old friends, ex-friends. She paired it with sarcasm frequently. There were so many of them, really, though of varying levels of importance. It never once occurred to her that the word might bear much more weight to Severus than it did to Sabine.

Speaking of friends, Sabine sighed as the scent of coffee brewing filled the room. Although it was given to her now on a regular basis, it always seemed like years between the cups. "Indeed," she half-mumbled as she watched the pot in question heat. "I've been looking forward to it. It'll be nice to learn something again for a change..."

Coffeecoffeecoffeecoffeecoffee.

Pulling the pot from its resting place on the hotplate and pouring a full mug, he handed it to Sabine. His internal clock told him that they had roughly half an hour before classes, though he was certain that he was off by five minutes, give or take. Time enough... There was something important he wished to discuss.

"I must warn you," Severus commented, his expression sober as he filled his own mug. "It is a common practice among the Death Eaters to - how to phrase this? - share their wives. I will not allow it," he added quickly, "But you may be approached." He drew a breath. "You may also see… To gain favor in the Dark Lord's eyes, it is not unusual for a Death Eater to present his virgin daughter as …amusement… for his fellow servants." He said the word darkly, and his expression became one of revulsion. "I never would partake," he spat, "Even for the sake of proving my worth. But Lucius…" He glanced at her, and ended the sentence in a clipped manner, as if commenting on the weather to a stranger. "The man has a seemingly insatiable appetite for such things."

Sabine gagged hideously on her coffee, managing to choke down the scalding liquid before setting the cup aside and giving way to a minor coughing fit. The grotesque images that went along with this story were enough to turn her off from caffeine, if even momentarily.

When the spasm had ended, the expression on her face was a revolted sneer. "Disgusting rats," she muttered fiercely. "How in damnation can there possibly be so many men with those tastes?" She stared at the fireplace for a second and shook her head before returning her gaze to Severus. "Quite a crowd you chose, Snape," she decided sourly. "What else?"

Severus winced visibly, suddenly tense. After studying his coffee for a long moment, he slowly raised his eyes to hers in a pained gaze.

Damn it, I do not need to be reminded!

"I know, Sabine." He said quietly.

The sneer slid from Sabine's face, leaving instead a gloriously guilty frown. Immediately she rose from the chair upon which she had just seated herself, and calmly approached Severus' side. There she laid a gentle hand on his wrist, and shook her head.

"Of course you do. It was horrible of me to say."

She was sorry, and yet there was a part of her that nagged the very question; she wanted to know why he had ever descended to such a pitiful crowd. Had he ever been malicious enough to pass for one of those atrocious creatures? It was none of her business, really.

Bull. I should think you have a right to know.

But damned if I'll ever make him tell.

The wrist her touch lingered upon was his left, and his fingers tensed for the barest of moments, the movement imperceptible by anyone to whom the responsible muscles did not belong. But the gesture was comforting, and he remained very still.

...He could feel her question. There was a natural perceptiveness that the Legillimens could not turn off, and he could tell that she was wondering.

"I know what you're thinking." He said softly, raising his eyes to hers. "And I cannot give you that answer, not yet. I'm sorry."

And he really was.

Opening her mouth in protest, Sabine originally had every intention to deny having thought what she thought he thought she thought, but that idea was quickly abandoned. He knew.

She sighed resignedly and furrowed her eyebrows. "Why do I ever bother talking to you if you know what I'm thinking?" she complained, squeezing his wrist briefly before removing her hand. Well, she was going to remove her hand, but in actuality she didn't. It served a better purpose there than at her side anyway.

"I didn't plan to ask, you know."

He smiled slightly at her apparent exasperation. "I know. You've done nothing wrong. Now, finish your coffee and be off... Your students will no doubt wonder where you have been lingering for so long, if you are late." He gave her a look that mocked long-suffering. "Mine, on the other hand, could not care less."

Coffee?

Coffee!

Sabine returned diligently to her chair and retrieved her mug, topping off its contents with the help of the pot. "I will return your mug at noon," she promised, sweeping off towards the door and pausing before her exit. "I'm sure there're some that would miss you if you were gone," she said with a smile, exiting and pulling the door shut behind her.

Severus grunted in response to this, then thoughtfully finished his coffee, his eyes staring blankly at his wrist.

Setting aside the cup with grudging resignation, he rose and set off for his classroom... He had students to torment - that is, teach.

Meanwhile, Trefethen wandered off down the dungeon corridors, a thought striking her when she reached the top of the stairs and stopping her short.

Whose class am I teaching today again?