Author's Note: I own nothing. J. K. Rowling owns all Harry Potter things. Thanks to MysteriousMagicalMuse for reviewing!

They walked quietly through the front doors of the castle and stepped into the night air once again. Snape's eyes were trained on the approaching Quirrell, but his mind was still racing, trying to understand what was going on. I am just being paranoid. He thought to himself. There is no reason to start panicking just because Quirrell decided to go for a little moonlit stroll.

But then another thought crossed through his head. Do sick people usually go for a jaunt in the Forbidden Forest at night? And I'm not 'panicking'. I'm just being cautious. Dumbledore must have a reason to want Quirrell watched. Snape closed his eyes tightly and clenched his hands into fists. His headache was getting worse.

He opened his eyes again and they were immediately drawn to the professor walking along next to him. For the third time tonight Charity Burbage was as quiet as a mouse. But this silence seemed to be because of fear, not her internal musings or her simply enjoying the view from the roof. The poor woman was clearly nervous, staring at everything they passed like it was going to grab her. Her slight frame was clearly shaking, and her eyes were wide and flighty. And again, Snape squashed the need to ask what was bothering her. Instead he focused on Quirrell, who had just spotted them and stopped abruptly.

Guilt. Snape thought, his eyes narrowing. And Fear. He looks like a stunned doxy. What was the old Muggle saying? Ah, yes, 'like a deer in the headlights'. He smiled slightly, but stopped as he heard a laugh come from the woman next to him. He raised an eyebrow in question and frowned.

"You're right, Severus. He does look like a deer caught in the headlights." She laughed quietly. "But where did you learn a muggle metaphor?"

Snape frowned, embarrassed by his spoken thoughts. "I was friends with a muggleborn while in school." He said sharply. Trying to forget how similar Charity's and Lily's eyes were.

"Ah." She said, returning to her fear filled shadow watching.

They were only a handful of steps away form Quirrell now, and Snape could swear that Quirrell was whispering hurriedly to himself. It sounded like; "-eep him there until the Halloween Feast."

Snape and Charity came to a stop in front of him, and Quirrell threw back his hood in order to see them both.

"P-P-Professors S-Snape and Burbage!" He stuttered loudly. "What a p-p-pleasant surprise!"

Snape scoffed as he watched Charity smile at the meek man. "Yes, Quirrell. Very… Pleasant." He sneered. "Professor Dumbledore asked us to take some food to you, as you were too sick to make it to the party. Unfortunatly, the food did not make it here." He looked pointedly at Charity, who had gone suddenly red. "Although some of it seems to be on my robe's sleeve." He turned back to Quirrell. "May I ask why you are walking about the grounds at midnight, when you were too sick to even make it to a party only an hour ago?"

…...

Quirrell was fidgetting. Literally rocking back and forth from foot to foot. His fingers worrying at the corner of his sleeve. Charity watched as he lifted his hood back up over his turban, which was slightly askew. She didn't hear the excuse that he gave to Severus, as, again, she smelled the mixture of old socks and dirty public toilets that is distinctive to Mountain Trolls. Her brow furrowed, and she took a step closer to the now shaking man.

"Quirenus," She asked softly. "why do you smell like a Mountain Troll?" She saw both men stiffen, and heard Snape fall as Quirrell cast a spell. He spun his wand towards Charity, pointed it at her heart, and then everything went dark.