Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Hermione arrived at Spinner's End with a small pop. She wrinkled her nose at the stench in the air – there was obviously stagnant water somewhere. Noting that the street was deserted, she removed the Disillusionment Charm and looked around. Most of the houses were dilapidated and in fact appeared deserted. Only a few at the far end of the street were lit.

Checking the house numbers, she moved down the street until she found number 13. It appeared no different from any other house on the street. In fact, it looked like one of the worst. She hoped that it was merely a magical disguise and that she would not be risking her life by entering the house.

Once again checking that the street was deserted and that no one was watching her, she pulled out her wand and ran through a series of incantations, checking to see if there were any defensive charms on the property. She didn't detect anything, but she still approached the front door carefully. As she drew near the door, she could feel the key growing warm in her pocket.

Withdrawing the key from her pocket, she noticed that her hand was shaking as she moved the key towards the lock. The key slid easily into the lock, but she was struck with second thoughts before she turned it. Removing her hand from the key, she tried to recall what the letter had said and once again wondered why Snape would have entrusted her with his possessions. And what was this thing he needed accomplished? It didn't make any sense. Draco Malfoy was the one it would have made sense for him to choose as his beneficiary. Or any of his other Slytherins, but not a Gryffindor, especially an 'insufferable know-it-all'.

She was brought back to the present when she heard the click of the key turning in the lock of it's own volition. Once unlocked, the door slowly swung open, revealing the space beyond.

Peering inside, she was struck by the darkness – the light from the stars barely penetrated the grimy windows. It was clear that no one had been in the house for a very long time, since long before the war had ended. "Well, there's nothing to do but go in," she said to herself, building her resolve, before removing the key from the lock. As she crossed the threshold, several lamps lit.

A layer of dust covered everything. The sparse furniture was well worn, definitely having seen better days. Books lined the walls. She would have expected nothing less from someone as knowledgeable as Snape.

Tucked against one wall was a small secretary desk, and she decided that was the best place to start her investigation of her new house. Flipping down the writing surface, she saw that the desk was empty except for a quill and a half-empty bottle of ink. The only things in the drawers were the remains of a spider's meal.

"If this was so important, why didn't he leave me more information?" she mused aloud. This whole endeavor made less and less sense. Was this all some final cruel joke he was playing on her, leaving her this wreck of a house? One that probably would never sell and would end up costing her money in property taxes? If that was the case, she was surprised he didn't leave it to Harry.

At that thought, she realized this had to be a serious bequest. She resumed her search of the house. Looking around she realized that there were no doors. From the exterior of the house, she knew that it had two stories and that it should be deeper than just one room. Some of the bookcases obviously concealed doors.

Since the room appeared as wide as the house, she started at the bookcase on the back left wall. As she rubbed her hand along the side of the third shelf over, she heard a soft click and the door swung open, revealing an eat-in kitchen that looked as dilapidated as the rest of the house.

On the right side of the room she found a second doorway that led upstairs where she found two desolate bedrooms and a dingy bathroom. The state of the house was reminiscent of what they had found at Grimmauld Place.

She spent the next hour going through the house, checking in every drawer and cupboard and under every bit of furniture for any clue as to why she had been his beneficiary. There was nothing.

Exhausted, she threw herself into a rickety chair only to regret that decision when she was engulfed in a cloud of dust that produced a huge coughing fit. With a quick flick of her wand, she banished the dust and decided the house could do with a good cleaning.

Using the cleaning spells she had learned from Molly, she went after the dust, cobwebs and other detritus. It took close to an hour and some manual labor, but she was finally getting the house to the point that it was almost livable, not that she would want to live here.

In fact, the sooner she could leave, the better. No matter what she did to the windows, they were still reluctant to let light enter, leaving the house with a very gloomy feel, though one that was very much in line with Snape's personality. Being in this house was giving her a lot of insight into his personality, and she didn't entirely like what she was discovering. But with him gone, it didn't really matter, did it?

Even in cleaning, she had found no clues as to why the house was now hers. In fact, she found very little to suggest anyone had lived here in a long, long time. The kitchen cupboards were empty except for a few pieces of dinnerware and the barest cooking implements. All the drawers and cupboards were empty, and there was not even linen on the beds. It was all very strange.

As she was trying to think, she found herself wishing she had some tea. There was a kettle, but nothing to brew in it.

Looking around the main room, she saw the hundreds – perhaps thousands – of books,

and she wondered if the answer was in one of them. Moving to the nearest shelf, she began reading the titles. Oddly, they were all Muggle books – though there seemed to be no one predominant category. There were novels – both classic and modern – history books, biographies, a true cross section of Muggle publishing. None of this was something she would ever have expected from Snape.

She knew that he had a Muggle father and that perhaps he would have been exposed to some Muggle literature that way, but the breadth and range of the books, as well as the sheer number of them, was still astounding.

Moving to another part of the room, she finally found the books that she had expected to find in Snape's library. Many of them focused on the Dark Arts, and she was sure that she saw several that were on the banned book list, meant to be kept only in the most secure archives of the Ministry. There were even a few that she was almost positive were bound with human skin.

A shiver ran down her spine, and she continued her exploration of the books, moving quickly away from the Dark Arts section. Those books would have to be turned over to the Ministry; she wanted nothing to do with them. Though perhaps she should talk to Harry about that first and see what he thought she should do with them. After all, he had the experience of dealing with similar tomes from Grimmauld Place.

A majority of the remaining books covered the major magical disciplines of Charms, Arithmancy, Transfiguration, and obviously, Potions. Unsurprisingly, it appeared that he had every book on Potions that had been written in the last five centuries. Even so, there were not as many Potions books as there were Dark Arts books. Although in the end he had proven to be on their side, she had a hard time believing anyone with such an interest in the Dark Arts could truly have been in Dumbledore's service.

Perhaps he understood her love of books and realized that she was one person who would take care of his collection and put it to good use. But that still left the mystery of the nature of the task that Snape had felt only she could be entrusted with.

Suddenly there was a knock at the door.

"Who could that be?" she wondered aloud. She supposed it was possible that Ron had gone to see Harry and the two of them had tracked down the exact address where Snape used to live. After all, Harry was undergoing limited Auror training while they awaited the Ministry disposition and had access to Ministry records.

Wiping a damp strand of hair that was stuck to her cheek and tucking it behind her ear, she stormed to the door, ready to deliver the two of them an earful.

Whom she saw standing outside the door shocked her into stunned silence. Lucius Malfoy was at her door.