Chapter 4: A Slippery Slope

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author.

Thank you to VIVAvivacious for beta-ing this chapter.

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Autumn had brought along a lot of cold weather to the Scottish Highlands and Hogwarts.

Snape had all the fireplaces in his chambers lit to ward off the cold that permeated his dungeons. He had checked in on Granger early in the afternoon and had ensured before leaving her chambers all her fireplaces were lit, also. It wouldn't do well for her to end up ill after all the trouble everyone had gone through in order to prevent her arrest or death. Because it had been he who had prevented her immediate capture and questioning by the Ministry, she was now his responsibility entirely – a responsibility he was finding harder than he had imagined it would be.

Granger had been withdrawn for several days now, and it was becoming increasingly difficult to entice her to converse and share with him what troubled her. She had spent increasing amounts of time in the library during the day and shut herself away in her chambers at night, researching something she seemed extremely unwilling to share with him. He didn't blame her. She was emotionally delicate at the moment, and he had not exactly been nice to her in the time they had been acquainted.

He sighed heavily, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose to chase away an impending headache.

Snape had been forced to do many things in his life he regretted, to the point where he thought ending his life would be the easiest way to deal with the problem. If the Granger girl had any suicidal impulses, she did well at hiding them, for he was certain she had not seemed to lean in that direction. Instead, she was curling in on herself, becoming an emotional cripple in the same way he had been doing all of his life. It was okay for an old man like him to be that way, but for a young woman with so much promise, he did not want that to be her fate.

He resolutely decided it was time to go and complete his nightly check-up of the Granger girl while it was still a reasonable time to do so. Getting up from his armchair, he left his chambers and walked down the hall to the next portrait that served as the doorway to her rooms. Muttering the password they had agreed upon, the portrait swung forward to allow him entry, and he closed it behind him as he stepped into her still-warm sitting room. He found her sitting in one of the armchairs by the fire, a book open on her lap and a quill idly twirling between the fingers of her right hand.

'Miss Granger, is everything to your satisfaction this evening?' he asked.

She turned her head to watch as he perched himself into the adjacent armchair. 'I'm fine, Professor,' she answered, closing the book on her lap he now identified as being her personal journal.

Snape nodded, satisfied. He noted the dark circles beneath the girl's eyes and slightly pursed his lips in anger at seeing her as she was. She was far too skinny, verging on gaunt, and her skin was an unhealthy shade of white and grey. To say she looked ill would have been the understatement of the decade. He stood up and went to her fireplace, tossing in some Floo powder from the mantle to call the kitchens. After ordering her a tea service complete with sandwiches, he relit the fire and returned to his seat.

'I'd like you to try and eat more and drink some tea,' he told her simply. 'It's chamomile, so you might find it helps you sleep.'

'I've tried chamomile to get to sleep, but very little is effective, short of working myself to the point of exhaustion and passing out in this armchair,' she answered, her voice quiet.

Snape nodded in understanding. There was a point when he, too, had trouble getting to sleep for the same reasons. He was always afraid of seeing their lifeless eyes in his dreams and nightmares.

'Regardless, Miss Granger, I would like you to try and eat some of the sandwiches and get some sleep in your actual bed before tomorrow morning,' he informed her, his tone brooking no argument. 'That being said, I will disturb you no longer. Good evening.'

He stood when she nodded in response and swept out of her chambers and back to the portrait guarding his own. He ordered himself a tea tray from the kitchens and sat down in his armchair to enjoy a cup of strong, black tea once the service had arrived. As he sipped the hot liquid, his mind reeled back to thoughts of Hermione Granger once more. She wasn't taking proper care of herself, and the dubious pleasure of doing so now fell on his shoulders. He was certain that if they were any narrower, they would break under the weight of all of his responsibilities. Dumbledore knew nothing of the monster he had created.

He closed his eyes for a short time, considering Granger's situation. It was obvious she was lonely, despite her increasingly reclusive tendencies. He knew, with her temperament, there was every chance she could be lulled into sinking further into the world she had created for herself within the deep recesses of her mind. With no one to confess her feelings to, she would bottle everything inside until she exploded.

Opening his eyes once more, he stared sullenly into the fireplace. He knew there was nothing else for it.

Hauling himself from his armchair, he went to the mantelpiece and scooped a generous amount of Floo powder from the jar. Tossing it into the fire, the flames immediately turned green. Crouching down, he stared into the cool, green flames taking the place of the warm, orange ones.

'Harry Potter, Grimmauld Place,' he stated clearly.

The messy hair of Potter appeared in the flames, and soon he was faced with the curious face of Harry Potter. 'Professor Snape?' he asked, confusion clearly written on his face.

'I realize it is late, but I need to speak to you about Miss Granger,' Snape said, shifting his legs to sit on the rug before the fire.

'Oh,' Harry replied, casting his eyes downwards.

'Mr. Potter, your friend is going through an intensely difficult time at present,' the older wizard said softly. 'She has been extremely withdrawn of late, and I believe seeing some of her friends may help her.'

'I understand,' Harry said, swallowing visibly. 'Do you want me to come to Hogwarts tomorrow and speak to her?'

Snape ground his teeth and frowned, his annoyance evident in his expression. 'Boy, you should have been here every day for the past week to see your friend,' he growled. 'I am not in charge of reminding you of your duties to your friends, Mr. Potter, nor am I interested in reprimanding you. In the future, I simply expect you to do what is correct and start splitting your time between the Weasleys and Hogwarts.'

'Mad-Eye said it isn't wise for me to be around Hermione while she is the way she is,' Harry mumbled under his breath.

'Mad-Eye Moody is named thusly because he has gone mad over time,' Snape spat, causing Potter's expression to turn to one of shock.

'I – I will talk to Molly and Arthur in the morning to see if I can be escorted to Hogwarts,' Harry stammered.

'Oh yes, because a young man aged twenty-five is unable to make any decisions on his own,' the older wizard said snidely.

Harry's expression immediately turned to one of anger at Snape's sharp jibe. 'You know, for someone who is fighting on the side of good, you really are a first-rate bastard.'

Snape sucked in a sharp breath, glaring at the boy's head. 'I feel as though this entire conversation has been a waste of my time, Potter. Be here tomorrow for your friend or do not bother coming to the castle at all,' he ground out.

Snape ended the Floo call without so much as a goodbye and hauled himself off the ground, waving a hand in the direction of the fireplace to light the fire again. When it was once again radiating warmth, he walked towards the door that led to his bedroom. Ridding himself of his boots and robes, he stalked crossly into the bathroom, shedding the rest of his clothing and placing it all into the wicker hamper. He waved a hand in the direction of his shower, turning on the faucets and setting the water to his preferred temperature before stepping under the spray.

As he grabbed a bar of soap and began to lather himself up, his thoughts turned to Potter. He snorted at the thought of Harry Potter being the person on his mind whilst taking a shower and shook his head in disbelief. Either way, he was more disappointed in the boy than he had ever been prior to that point. Granger had stood by the irritable piece of baggage for all of their years at Hogwarts and all of those that had followed, and the boy was allowing his ridiculous feelings for the Weasleys and the influence of Mad-Eye Moody keep him from paying her a visit.

Of all the ridiculous and disloyal things...

Snape closed his eyes and finished washing himself, allowing the water to rinse the suds from his body before manually turning off the taps. He grabbed a towel and dried off before heading into his room once more and donning long, silk pajama pants and a matching black robe. Climbing into his bed, he rested his head on the pillow and stared up at the ceiling, feeling weary beyond his years. And was it any wonder? After twenty years of deception, he was worn out. He had been forced to discontinuing spying for the Order two years ago, having nearly lost his life on more than one occasion, and yet he was still being pursued for his betrayal.

The addition of having to babysit a member of the former Gryffindor trio was hardly lessening the burden. He was stuck with the emotionally unstable girl for an indefinite length of time while being expected to both teach at Hogwarts and work for the Order.

He closed his eyes and willed away mental images of the Granger girl and the battle in which she had gone from beloved know-it-all to one of the least-liked people in the Wizarding world. Unsure how the story had managed to leak, Hermione Granger's slaying of one of her best friends had been widely publicized in a number of journals and newspapers. Snape had been very careful about screening what newspapers she actually saw in order to prevent her from having to read the worst of it. No doubt the Dark Lord had a hand in the revelation.

His mind drifted back to Hermione's face that night as he had checked to see how she was faring.

Her eyes were almost as dead as if she had been hit by a killing curse herself. It was hardly her fault – the curse itself did lend toward the destruction of one's soul a little bit every time it killed. Rolling onto his side, he contemplated his options for the days and weeks that would follow.

He needed to help Hermione Granger come out of the lonely pit of despair she had been slowly burying herself in. He was certain she was the key to discovering just how to rid the Wizarding world of their worst dark terrorist yet. He needed to finish what he had started and repay the debt he owed to both Albus Dumbledore and Wizarding society for his misjudgments as a youth. He would strive to repair the damage inflicted on his unsuspecting young charge and repay the debt he owed to all those souls that he had destroyed himself or had been unable to heal.

Severus Snape had a clear purpose.

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A/N – A few Snape chapters will be scattered throughout, and here is one of them. I hope you are all enjoying this so far.