Now is the right time to announce the winner of our competition as the answer will be revealed in this chapter anyway - huge clapping and cheering for emjrabbitwolf!
The reward has already been sent and hopefully enjoyed!

CHAPTER 36

Something was biting into her shoulder persistently, trying to make its way through her skin, into her bones and blood, into her very soul, never ceasing in its gnawing at her flesh like a starving animal would. It was made up of sharp claws, ugly and dark, and smelling of rot and decay. Hermione flinched and turned to try and shake the beast off, to make it stop hurting and scratching her, but all it did was hurt even more, like something was pressing on the wound the hideous creature caused.

It made her open her eyes then, her forehead covered with sweat and her heart racing, and couldn't believe what she was seeing with them; even faced with that other-worldly beast that had hurt her in her dream, she would not have been this surprised.

There was light all around her. Normal, daily, natural light that landed in beautifully straight rays onto the rickety bed she was lying on, enveloping the little bits of dust that were suspended in the air, floating and spinning in their never ending dance with gravity and the small amount of air circulation in the unfamiliar, cramped room.

It was the most beautiful thing she had ever set eyes on and she found herself smiling even though her upper back hadn't stopped hurting like it was reminding her of the cost of this sight. She was out of that hellhole. She had made it. Snape had done it...

Snape!

Looking around herself hastily, she saw the person she was thinking about and looking for, sitting in the wobbly, old-fashioned armchair by the bed. He was obviously asleep, a relaxed expression on his usually stern and controlled face as his head rested on his chest, his arms folded across his body. One of his fingers twitched and drew her attention to his right hand that was once again bruised and bloody with some of his fingers obviously broken. Damn, did she do such a bad job mending it that the wounds opened again? Why did he not heal it himself to correct it if that was the case? Or did something else happen whilst she was unconscious?

But then something else caught her attention; there was Snape's wand, lying on the bed table just a few inches from her. He had not stored it in his holder for some reason...

Reaching her hand slowly towards the dark wood, she watched the man cautiously. Even as a Muggleborn, she knew that touching anyone's wand - outside of a duel, of course - without the person's direct permission was a true taboo in the wizarding society as it was about the most personal and intimate object that a wizard or a witch owned, but she simply could not resist. It had felt so good the last time she had held it, reassuring her and giving her the peace and stability of mind that only being in full control of her safety and magic could provide.

As soon as her fingers made contact with the handle, she felt it humming happily against her skin, full of power and warmth. It was strange for this cold and unfeeling man to own a wand so warm, friendly and alive.

Lifting it from the table, she held it in her hand firmly, letting its magic and power seep into her.

"I rather like the wand," came from her side and she startled violently, nearly dropping the thing. Damn! Snape!

Pointing the wand quickly at him in hopes it would hold him at bay should he slip into one of his Mr. Hyde moods and decided to punish her for this, she looked him over hastily, trying to ascertain the situation. He seemed entirely serene, never moving his hands from their relaxed position, never reaching to take the wand from her. Did he really consider her to be so weak and such a bad dueler that he was so unafraid? Or did he not believe her capable of hurting him, the arrogant bastard?

"I acquired it when I was 16 after my first one got broken in a skirmish with my 'classmates' and it's something of a miracle that it has endured everything with me up till now, unbroken and unburned. It's even somewhat famous for its moods and temper amongst the Death Eaters; I fondly remember in particular how it zapped Bellatrix Lestrange when she tried to take it from me, turning her hair curly which she has not been able to reverse ever since..." Snape's eyes got a bit distant, a dreamy expression in them. "You are the first person, aside from me, that is hasn't tried to disable actually," he added, watching her hand still gripping the wand, obviously calm and at peace with her being armed while he was not.

Hermione never moved or spoke, still on guard, not giving him any excuse to attack her. She is out of her cell! She knows how to defend herself if need be. She can handle this!

"I have a proposal for you," he said then and reached into his sleeve, towards the hidden holder. She raised his wand higher, warning him silently, and he stilled, waiting. They eyed each other for a few seconds and she finally nodded her head. He did not look to be about to start cursing her, volatile as he might be. She'd decided to trust him once, taking the risks and he really had freed her and brought her to wherever she was now, living up to his word... Besides, she was curious as to what he had to offer. If she did not like it, she was still the one armed here; she could show him just how well she could fight in case he tried something fishy on her.

Merlin! She was not the only one armed here now anymore! She cursed herself for her stupidity as she saw him pulling out another wand. She draw her breath to curse him with something nasty when she noticed what he was really holding and all air escaped her lungs, leaving her gaping and unable to move.

It was HER wand. He held it by the tip, offering her the handle, his eyes never straying from hers.

She had never thought she would see it again. She had thought she had lost it forever.

Nodding her head quickly, incapable of words, she pushed his wand into his lap and snatched the precious vine wood from his hand, holding it to her tightly and suppressing her tears. Yes, it was only a thing, it was replaceable but it had been with her for seven years now. Her parents had bought it for her on her very first trip to the Wizarding World. She had cast her very first spell with it...

Raising her eyes back to him to thank him, she saw him looking in her direction, deeply absorbed by something - but not into her eyes. Lower. She looked down too to see what had diverted his attention and blushed violently. The blanket had slipped from her body, revealing her bare breasts that peeked out from the gap in the familiar black cloak which was draped around her. Pulling the two parts of the cloth together quickly to cover herself, she shot him a look, uncertain of his reaction. He had promised to keep their couplings to a minimum but they were alone here; no one would know, no one would judge him for it. He was a man and she had heard many stories of them claiming the girl had been asking for it, provoking them to the point that they could not help themselves. He had said this was a deal, the wand would have a price...

But he appeared to come to his senses then, fortunately, blinking a few times and clearing his throat. He appeared to be suddenly very interested in looking out of the dirty and dusty window set in the opposite direction from her.

"My apologies, Miss Granger," he said very quietly and she only nodded, although he could not see it, her throat still constricted with worry. Perhaps he would think she did not hear him. It did not really matter. It would be fine as long as they could pretend this had never happened.

It took several minutes before she had gathered enough courage to break the oppressive silence.

"Where are we?" she asked hesitantly.

Finally, he looked in her direction again, abandoning the view offered by the window.

"Cokeworth, Spinner's End. This is my house. This is where you will live," he answered, watching her carefully.

What?!

Hermione looked around herself once more, properly this time. She thought this was only some transit house, serving to give them some shelter for the night. A very bad hotel maybe. Certainly not a place where someone actually lived. Not a place anyone would call a home.

There was nothing even remotely personal in the room around her; no pictures, no decoration, not even a carpet or curtains. Only a bed, a mismatching bedside table and an old armchair, all covered by an even layer of dust that had to have been forming for years to get so thick.

So this is how he got around promising to allow her into his private space unrestricted; he had bought this ruin of a house to accommodate her so he did not have to suffer her intrusion. Obviously he did not even bother to spend too much on it. That was why he was so quick to accept her terms - he never even planned to let her into his actual home.

Maybe she would not be welcome there for more reasons; it only occurred to her now that she knew nothing of Snape's personal life and his relationships. Maybe he had a wife or a girlfriend that he had never informed of her existence. Maybe he liked to bring women home for just one night... Her presence would not be tolerated in his home in any case, so Hermione would be kept here like his newly acquired dirty, little secret in his dirty, little secret house...

She felt somewhat cheated by that, although rationally she knew that she should be glad for it; maybe it meant that she wouldn't have to see him as often if he had another woman that he actually liked. Once a week was really fine with her as long as she had her books. Hopefully there WERE some books somewhere around here as he had promised her that too.

"Is there anything specific that you would like me to obtain for you?" he asked then and she jumped having forgotten about his presence for a minute.

"Clothes?" she requested once more, hoping she would not be denied this time. She really didn't want the situation from today to ever repeat itself.

"Sure. I left some of my shirts and trousers for you to adjust in the living room. They should be enough until you select your own. There are some magazines you can order from by owl post at the table in the kitchen, along with the food," he said and she was relieved somewhat - he at least counted on her to be here and permitted her to get clothes, although they had not specifically agreed on that. She half expected the Slytherin to provide only the bare minimum for her to survive on. Furthermore, it was good to know there were more rooms in this ruin of a building.

"Anything else?" he prompted her after a few moments of her silence.

Hermione only shook her head. She had food and she had clothes, at least he had said so. She had a house to explore. She had her wand. She would be fine for a week.

"I will see you tomorrow in that case to collect the clothes order as there are no owls for you to send," he told her, standing up from the armchair. She was not that lucky then... Still she only nodded, never rising from the bed so as not to not reveal any of her body as long as he was still in the room. There was no need to risk provoking him again.

The door closed behind him quietly and she breathed out, some of the tension finally leaving her. So this was it. This was the freedom she had traded her cell for...

Pulling the cloak tightly around her and waiting a few minutes until she heard the telltale 'whoosh' of the Floo transporting someone through the fireplace, she stepped out of the bed, placing her bare foot on the dust floor and making it creak, the sound resonating throughout the silent house.

Silence was good. Silence was better than the moaning and crying. Silence did not have her cowering in fear.

Exiting the room, she quickly found an old bathroom and spent about an hour in the shabby shower.

Still wet and feeling considerably more human again, she wrapped herself in an old towel hanging on a rusty peg that she had cleaned with a charm and opened the first door that she reached.

A gust of stale air, thick with the smell of old paper, dust, ink and parchment, hit her face and she smiled, her eyes widening in wonder.

This house is rather good actually. She will be fine here.

Many thanks to Pirocantha, the girl who has to work hard to be able to read this story ahead of everybody else, yet she is never complaining!

And thanks to all of you who like this story and give me the will to continue, you really make all the difference!