"Please, Severus. Do me this one more favour. I really don't know what else to do!"
With his back to the blonde woman, Severus Snape stared into the flickering fire in his office. It was almost comical that this woman offered him the ideal opportunity to return to Malfoy Manor once more to speak to Hermione Granger. But the circumstances worried him. "So, Lucius is ignoring you?"
"All week, yes," Narcissa explained in a brittle voice, "I understand him, I really do, I know it's not the right thing to do to have your own husband watched. But he did everything he could to provoke me into taking such a step."
He found it difficult to sympathise with Lucius. He spent an entire weekend observing the relationship between his old companion and Hermione, made it clear to him exactly what his wife thought about it and how dangerous it all was. And although he came to the realisation that Narcissa's suspicions were indeed more than justified, he returned home with the certainty that Lucius Malfoy understood that he had to change his behaviour. Out of good will and the fear of putting Hermione in danger if he said something wrong, he had lied to Narcissa. He had done far more for the head of the Malfoy family than he or any other Malfoy deserved - but as always, his actions were not appreciated, not recognised, only trampled underfoot. The fact that Lucius gave his wife the cold shoulder instead of taking the opportunity to put all doubts to rest made him seriously question the man's sanity.
"I'm the last person who should pose as a marriage counsellor, Narcissa," he finally said in a feeble attempt not to get involved in other people's affairs again, but he knew beforehand that it wouldn't work.
"I'm not asking you to," she replied desperately. "But ... you're an old friend of our family. Lucius used to help you when you were new to our Lord's circle. And you stood up for him when he fell out of favour. He has not forgotten that. What you say carries weight with him."
"You said all that in the letter that got me to spend last weekend with you in the first place. My visit obviously didn't work. Why should it be any different now?" Snape enquired coolly.
His visitor didn't give up, however. "That was about something else. I thought it was the mudblood's fault that Lucius pushed me away, I wanted to get to the bottom of it and gain distance at the same time. I still think she's to blame! Just in a different way. It was stupid of me to assume that Lucius could actually be seriously interested in a mudblood. But she can always give him what only a wife should. It's her fault he doesn't need me anymore."
Severus did not miss the anger and hatred in Narcissa's tone, and he felt a slight worry rise in him - this woman brought Hermione to the brink of death once before, and he dared her to try it again. He couldn't help but feel a certain amount of responsibility for her continued well-being after all he had done to the young woman. Although he realised that she was stronger than he thought, he was only too aware that in her position as a slave in the House of Malfoy, she would be defenceless against any attack from Narcissa. Her mental strength, which allowed her to cope with rape and the violent assaults of her owners, did not make her petite body any less fragile.
"So not a marriage counsellor," he stated matter-of-factly. "Then what exactly are you hoping to gain from my visit?"
He finally turned to Narcissa as he waited for an answer. It took a moment before she responded, obviously finding it difficult to put her thoughts and feelings into words. "I don't know. I just don't want to feel so alone in my own house."
"Then why don't you ask your sister?"
A hysterical laugh rang out. "I want to improve my relationship with Lucius, not destroy it for good. You know how Bella is. She would provoke him all the time, make fun of him, and humiliate him. I love her and I'm really grateful to her for everything, but she's not helpful in a case like this."
"And you'd rather turn to me for emotional support instead?" Snape retorted cynically.
He could see her shrinking in her chair under his cold gaze, but she didn't give up. "Damn it, Severus, why are you making this so difficult for me? You responded so openly and helpfully to my letter, what's different now?"
"It's one thing to monitor a man's behaviour and tell him that his behaviour is dangerous," he explained simply. "But this is about feelings. That's not my area of expertise."
"Then ... just come and visit. Without any ulterior motives. As your host, Lucius will be forced to recognise my presence and at least behave politely towards me."
Snape deliberately allowed a sneer to play around the corners of his mouth as he nodded slowly. "So desperate, my dear Narcissa. There is no denying that the Malfoy family is not what it once was."
He took a certain amount of schadenfreude in seeing his guest visibly wince at these derogatory words, but as they both knew that she was dependent on his goodwill, she could not utter an appropriate retort. Narcissa stood up calmly, shook his hand with her head bowed, and took her leave.
Snape closed the door behind her and returned to the fireplace. Again, he stared into the flames for a long time without really noticing his surroundings. An opportunity to see Hermione again had presented itself sooner than expected. He had to use the visit to be alone with her. The herb garden would have to serve as an excuse again, but he was sure that no one would question him this time either.
Determined, he sat down at his desk to compose a letter to Lucius, informing him that he intended to visit on Saturday afternoon so that he could once again use Narcissa's herb garden as a favourable source of potion ingredients. He tied the piece of parchment to his owl's leg with tight, routine movements, and then watched as it flew out of the headmaster's office window and into the night. If he was honest with himself, he felt a certain anticipation for the visit. It wasn't often that he felt anything other than tiredness and despair at the overwhelming responsibility he carried, but Hermione had done it several times now. Her empathetic, open nature made her an amazing woman - all the more he regretted what he had done to her.
Months ago, when he had paid Lucius the galleons to buy Hermione's virginity, he hadn't planned to actually take advantage of his side of the bargain. He had wanted to prevent any other Death Eater from taking her, because he had been only too aware of how devastating that would have been for the young woman.
But Draco Malfoy threw a wrench into this plan. Under the burden of having to kill Dumbledore and the knowledge that he would die if he failed, the boy had obviously gone mad. His hatred and desire to torment Hermione quickly came to Severus' attention - one of the reasons he followed him when he watched Draco make his way to Hermione's small bedchamber that night. He was repulsed, but not surprised, that the young Malfoy actually tried to force himself on Hermione.
He had to intervene. Had to interrupt Draco and shoo him away. Had to point out his purchased rights to the slave girl.
As so often before, he hated himself for what he did afterwards, but he still couldn't think of what else he should have done. The likelihood that Draco stayed around to watch him with Hermione was just too high. He manoeuvred himself into a dead end in which he had no choice but to sleep with her after all, despite his intentions. To brutally violate her. He nearly vomited afterwards and whenever he thought back to that day, he felt sick again.
Filled with loathing, Severus sank into the armchair in front of the fireplace. He felt sick at the thought of what he had done to her. He had been forced to behave as one would expect of a Death Eater who had bought sex. He couldn't able to risk Draco telling his father or any other interested Death Eater how gentle Severus Snape treated a slave, a mudblood. But that didn't make his actions any better. And the fact that a small part of him had enjoyed the act, that he had actually felt attracted to Hermione, to her warm body, only made things worse.
There had to be a curse on him that his own actions always put him in a situation where he was directly or indirectly responsible for the suffering and death of the people who meant the most to him. He had betrayed Lily and caused her death. Dumbeldore, the only man who had ever really known him, had died by his hand. And then he had also done the worst thing that could happen to a woman to Hermione Granger, the most intelligent member of the Order of the Phoenix, who at the same time always impressed him with her big heart.
He had known for a long time that he never was destined to lead a happy life. He made a mistake, he allowed himself to be seduced by his feelings of inferiority - and he would pay for it for the rest of his life. But no matter how much he sacrificed, how much he did and took on, life always repaid him with more suffering and guilt.
When the Death Curse had struck Harry Potter so many weeks ago and Lord Voldemort had won the final victory, the last will to live had vanished from him. He had failed, he had not only failed to protect Lily's son, he had also disappointed Dumbledore.
Only the prospect of at least protecting Potter's love, and thus preserving the last memory of Lily, had stopped him from putting an end to all the madness. He never liked Potter; in fact, he hated him, both father and son. But he always felt obliged to look after Lily's son - and if the only thing left for him to do was to protect the woman who meant the world to Lily's son from the grasp of other Death Eaters, then he would do it. He had sworn himself to this duty at the time and had chosen Ginevra Weasley as his slave without hesitation. He only found the strength to develop a new plan to overthrow Voldemort when he saw Hermione Granger again. This strong, young woman, who obviously never gave up her will to live and fight, even as a slave, taught him that he, too, could not stop fighting. With all he was guilty of, he owed Lily and Albus that too.
Guilt.
His whole life was characterised by the fact that he felt guilty and was indeed guilty. No matter how hard he tried to make amends, he had never succeeded. He wanted to protect Lily, but it had already been too late. He wanted to help Dumbledore, but in the end the old man had driven him to become a murderer again. He wanted to protect Hermione Granger, but in the end his actions had turned against him and he had been forced to do what he had wanted to save her from. With every attempt to pay his debt, he only added to it.
He hated himself. Nothing about him was lovable, not even to himself. And yet he was forced to continue living and fighting. Until he finally did everything in his power to pay his debt and set the world right again.
"Enough now," he ordered himself sternly as he rose from his chair and left the office to go to dinner in the Great Hall. "It won't get you anywhere to wallow in your own self-pity. You're pathetic enough as it is. At least keep your dignity and don't feel sorry for yourself! It's all your own fault! You have a task ahead of you now and it requires you to be focused and determined. Stop crying about the past."
Those students who found the courage to look up at the professor's table that evening saw a Severus Snape whose lips were pressed together in a fine line and whose eyes expressed a relentless hardness that they had never seen in him before. Whatever the reason, these poor students thought, this man looked like he was ready to kill.