The atmosphere in the staffroom was relaxed when Abigail arrived. There were two fire places in the large room and chairs and couches were clustered around both. A long table was laden with food and another smaller one held alcohol. Septima, Aurora, and Sybil were conversing quietly, but animatedly on one of the couches. Gerald, Simon, and Silvanus were talking Quidditch over glasses of what looked like Scotch. Snape and Poppy were going over her potions stock for when the students returned. Bathsheda, Rolanda, and Irma were visiting family, and Filch was in bed with the flu. Albus had turned in early.

What caught her eye though were the three remaining heads of house. Minerva, Pomona, and Filius were seated in one of the clusters of chairs in front of the far hearth. They were speaking somberly with their heads together. Abigail set down the mini Seared Beef Yorkshire puddings and Raspberry Millefeuille she had brought, grabbed a glass of whiskey, and went to join them. She really was such a nosey fuck sometimes.

Well it's better than earwiggin it.

"You three look far too serious for a Christmas party. What's the story?"

Minerva pat the cushioned arm of her chair, inviting her to sit and join the conversation.

"Good evening Abigail. I trust you're well."

"I am. Yourselves?"

"We were just discussing Allistar Richby." Filius said.

"The young boy who gave the sorting hat so much trouble?"

"That's the one." Pomona said.

"Has something happened to him?"

"It's not so much that anything has happened to him, so much as what he's done." Minerva said.

"The boys a bit troubled." Filius chimed in. "He doesn't handle it very well when he can't have his way."

"He took shears to my plants!" Pomona mourned.

"He also may be responsible for two of the missing cat cases." Filius said.

"No!"

"Yes." Minerva replied. "He was scratched and we think he may have loosed them in the forest. He'll be spending two weeks scrubbing cauldrons and polishing the trophy room when he returns after the holiday."

"Does he come from a troubled household or is he perhaps a spoiled only child? That may explain the bad reaction to not getting his way."

"No. He has two younger siblings. I'm not sure what the home life may be like though." Filius replied.

"He's an unsettling child. His eyes are always so empty." Pomona shuddered.

"Are you speaking of Allistar Richby."

Abigail turned to find Snape frowning down at her. His eyes swept quickly over her attire, a thick off-white turtleneck sweater with sleeves almost to her fingertips and grey leggings, before turning to Filius.

"That boy has an unsettling fascination with wanting to test our potions on animals. Specifically rats. He may not be our thief, but I would recommend your Ravenclaws keep their pets close."

"Is there a counselor he can speak with?" Abigail asked.

"Poppy usually takes care of such things. She has agreed to do so if someone accompanies her." Minerva said. Abigail stared.

"I told you he's somewhat unsettling." Pomona said. "When he stares at you it's as if there's nothing there."

Abigail didn't know what to think. It was so odd to her that an eleven year old boy had unnerved these veteran teachers in such a way; and they were unnerved. Bad behavior in itself wasn't so unusual even though the boy's did seem a bit extreme. Some children came from terrible home lives and their conduct reflected that. Perhaps he just needed to learn acceptable social behaviors; what was okay and what wasn't.

Maybe black eyes on a child are a little disquieting as well. Whereas on an adult…

Her own eyes drifted upwards to Snape's face. The pitch black irises suited him with his pale face and dark hair. They added to his air of intrigue and ability to command attention. She supposed it was in the same vein as how children in horror movies were infinitely scarier than regular ghosts or creatures.

Why is that?!

It was a few hours later when Abigail finally decided to retire to her rooms. She would be flooing to her family's estates in the morning and she knew she needed at least some rest. Not to mention she wanted to sleep off a bit of her drinking before hand. Her mother would not be happy if she showed up with a hangover. Not that, that hadn't happened previously. Her brother had still been drunk for Easter one year and had spent the day in bed.

Next time I'll be sure to limit my glasses the night before a holiday.

"Hm?"

Lost in thought and feeling slightly sloshed she hadn't realized there was someone else in the corridor until she was almost right on top of them.

"What are you doing here? All students were said to have gone home." The young boy was knelt on the floor, hunched over whatever was clutched in his hands. "Are you all right, boyo?"

Am I even speaking English right now? She stifled a giggle. God. How much had she drunk? If I am speaking English I might not even be understandable.

As the boy stood and turned she realized it was Allistar Richby.

Oh I don't believe in coincidences. I've got a bad feelin about this.

"Honey, what are you doing here? How are you here?"

He didn't answer her. He just fiddled with whatever it was he was holding.

"What have you got there?"

Snape rolled his eyes as Blackwell stared after O'Connor like a lost puppy. The man had been pining after her since start of term. On more than one occasion he'd requested that Snape bring him up in conversation. He'd promptly shut that down. He was not some cupid playing matchmaker. It wasn't like they did a whole lot of conversing either. The man didn't seem to get it though.

"Perhaps I should walk her back to her quarters. She seemed a little wobbly there."

"She's a big girl Blackwell. She can handle herself." He looked skeptical.

"What if she falls down the stairs and breaks her neck? Then how would you feel?"

"Like she shouldn't have gotten herself drunk. Look, if you're so hell bent on courting the woman just man up and do it Blackwell. Stop dancing around the subject like some lovesick teenager. You're a man for god's sake."

"Hm. Perhaps the reason you're so reluctant to help me is because you fancy her yourself mate." He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively and nudged the younger man.

"Hardly. I have no interest in such things."

"Oh you can't tell me that. You're in her quarters at least one night a week now in addition to those Monday potions meetings."

"Office! We are in her office and we are playing chess. That is it. There is nothing more to our relationship than that! I would ask that you refrain from coming up with such fantasies in that head of yours."

"Merlin's Beard, man! Does she not turn your head even a little?"

Snape huffed and set his glass down a little harder than necessary.

"Blackwell I…"

A high pitched shriek split the air and everyone froze, all glancing at each other as if to confirm what they had heard.

"Was that Abigail?" Minerva finally spoke.

Snape and Blackwell both bolted for the door, the others close behind. When they arrived it was to a strange scene.

"What the devil?"

Snape frowned harshly. O'Connor was crouched on a windowsill and clutching the frame and mullion in a white knuckled grips. Her face was pale and her eyes wild. Standing before her was Allistar Richby holding out his hands palm up. Scrambling and helpless to get away a baby Acromantula flopped around on three legs. The other five lay twitching beside it. Snape swallowed thickly.

"Mr. Richby! What are you doing here?" Minerva's cheeks were tinted red as she bore down on the young Ravenclaw. Behind her Filius was sputtering angrily.

"I made sure everyone was on that train. How did you get back here?"

"And what have you done to that poor spider?!"

Snape turned away from them to tackle the mess that O'Connor was sure to be. Blackwell was trying unsuccessfully to coax her from the sill. She looked petrified and seemed to have checked out. Her deep green eyes were staring off somewhere around his right hip. Snape didn't have time to be any more kind than he had in the forest, but he knew he had to approach this carefully. She was in a rather precarious position. The castle windows weren't made to hold a person's weight and the sills were quite narrow.

"Miss O'Connor I must insist that you come away from the window at once. We don't need to be scraping you off the front lawn on Christmas morning."

She didn't appear to have heard him at first. Then, slowly, she extended a hand for him to help her down. He had just taken her wrist in a firm grip when the window latch gave way and she slipped backwards. Several voices cried out, but to Snape they sounded like they were incredibly far away. O'Connor had locked eyes with him and her gaze was filled with such abject terror he could almost feel it. Her eyes pleaded with him not to let her die.

Severus!

He pulled her towards him and lunged forward to fist his other hand in her oversized sweater, wrenching her from the window. The pane swung open a second later and she clung to his robes, shaking like a leaf. He could feel her teeth chattering as she pressed her cheek to his collarbone.

"Good heavens!" Minerva cried as she darted over. "Are you all right Abigail?"

She nodded numbly.

"What the hell were you thinking?!" Snape snapped. "Crawling up there in the first place!"

His scolding seemed to snap her out of her shock. She leaned back to glare into his eyes.

"In case you've forgotten I'm terrified of spiders and I was half locked if you hadn't noticed!" Her accent was so thick he barely understood her.

"Oh believe me we noticed!"

She pulled her wrist from his white knuckled grip and shoved him.

"I could walk a straight line you prick!"

"Shall we test that theory?"

"Severus! Abigail! Please!" Minerva said.

"Sorry Minerva." Abigail said. Severus just looked away.

"It's all right. I realize things are tense after what just happened. I'm just glad you're safe." The older witch pulled her into a tight hug. When she let go her eyes were slightly misty. "Now, Filius and I will take Mr. Richby to the Headmaster's office. Severus I think it would be best if you saw her to her quarters. Just to be safe."

Abigail turned bright red and buried her face in her hands. Minerva pat her shoulder as they passed, she and Filius marching Allistar between them. As they went she thought she could finally understand what the others had meant. Even though they both had black eyes, said eyes couldn't be any different.

In Snape's eyes I can see life. Even when he doesn't want anyone to know I can see that spark. I can see how they light up when he knows he's going to win the round of chess, and how they darken when he totally focused on his next move or mad about something. In Allistar's however, there's nothing¸ there. His eyes are like dull pieces of coal devoid of all emotion.

I don't like that boy. I don't like him at all.

"Do you think you can walk that straight line back to your quarters?" Snape sneered. She glared at him and turned to the rest of the staff.

"I'm so sorry I scared you all like that."

"Oh don't worry dear. I'm the same way with snakes." Pomona gripped her hands tightly. "Rather unfortunate for a herbologist." They laughed lightly.

"Are you sure you're all right?" Simon touched her elbow gently. She smiled and nodded.

"Perhaps next time though, just run away instead." Rolanda smiled teasingly. "Not all of us have Severus' lightning fast reflexes."

"Don't worry. No more windows for me. Might just bar mine over."

The group laughed.

"If you're done, some of us would like to get to bed."

"Snape!" Simon said. "She's just been through a right scare. Have a heart! Don't rush her. You go ahead to bed. I can take her."

"It's ok, Simon. I do need to crack on. Have to be up early. Thank you though." She squeezed his bicep and followed the sour looking Snape. "Good night everyone!"

"I'm not making a good impression as a skilled spy, am I?" O'Connor sounded sullen and Snape smirked.

"Not when there's spiders involved, no." He glanced down at her. Whether it was the scare or her skill at handling liquor she was indeed walking a straight line. "You seem quite capable when it counts though."

She gave him a surprised look.

"After you fixed my knee in the forest you were able to overcome your fear enough to look out for us both. You're also an incredibly skilled and powerful witch and very analytical."

"I didn't take you as one to give compliments."

"I am not complimenting you. I simply recognize and respect talent and skill." He stared ahead frowning slightly. "You do seem to have a knack however for getting yourself into trouble."

"Hazards of the job I guess."

"Is that what you're going to call it?" She smiled and gave him a light shove. At her door she turned to him looking embarrassed. "I do have to get up rather early and I don't know how the hell I'm going to manage to get to sleep. You don't happen to have any, uh…"

O'Connor trailed off turning red. He rolled his eyes and reached into an inner pocket, withdrawing a vial of dreamless sleep. She smiled and took the vial gently.

"Thank you."

"Do try to come back in one piece."

"Good night, Snape. Happy Christmas."

He inclined his head and walked away, cloak billowing behind him.

That woman is a disaster waiting to happen. That phobia of hers is going to get her killed! What the hell even possessed her to jump up there in the first place? She took off running and screaming like a banshee the first time.

Snape didn't realize it then and there; it wasn't even a conscious thought, but going forward he would be keeping a closer eye on her. Perhaps the need was born from the look she had given him when she'd nearly plummeted to her death. Surrounded by several other capable witches and wizards she had focused on him like he was the only one. Her life was in his hands and she had depended on him to take care of it; despite her said distrust of him.

His hand moved of its own accord to rub at the tightness forming in his chest. She had somehow managed to plant in him the desire to protect someone. Albus' words about second chances were the water that helped it grow. They weren't friends, they would never be friends. He didn't bother with such things; but he had failed someone once before, and he wasn't going to do it again.