Two

Riddle Me This

Author's notes and disclaimers found in Chapter One. Additionally, as I'm not posting the entire story at once, I shall henceforth include each chapter's riddle solutions and attributions as end-notes.

Chapter Two

Rich men want it

Poor men have it

If you eat it you will die(1)

Scant illumination filtered through the magical barricade, yet sufficient after decades in darkness. She had been right. Others had come, and she watched as they trespassed upon her domain.

Aside from he whom she had dispatched, two others bore the taint of the Betrayer. They would not be allowed to pass.

Another had arrived. A woman this time. There was a hint of Darkness about her, and the guardian flicked her tufted tail.

Time would tell whether it was the Betrayer's touch. Meanwhile, the guardian watched and waited.

To share me is a temptation hard to resist,

When you do, I no longer exist.(2)

While Severus finished the trituration of acacia seeds in a malachite mortar Hermione settled in the chair Lucius abandoned when he had left them alone. Aside from the noises Severus made, silence had blanketed the room. Just as Hermione decided it was an exercise in patience – something she wasn't known to possess in abundance - Severus asked, "Did you bring Bellatrix's wand?"

"So it's Dark then."

After the war, Hermione had been the recipient of an Ollivander wand made especially for her. She had spent a month with the old wizard, save only her Saturdays at Gringotts. Hermione helped him restore order to his business, and he had shown her some of the details of his profession. One afternoon while they harvested branches from a lightning-felled tree, he had said, "I am sorry to say, Miss Granger, your talents lie elsewhere." She hadn't minded, and when the month was over, her new wand -- willow with a phoenix feather core -- was tucked firmly in its sheath.

Hermione had also kept Bellatrix Lestrange's wand. Aside from scars and horrific memories it was the only memento Hermione had kept from the war. The late Death Eater's wand had an affinity for Dark magic which proved a distinct advantage in Hermione's profession.

"Yes," Severus replied, "and no." He measured four grams of crushed seeds into a copper bowl before summoning his floating rack of ingredients. Plucking a small vial from the top shelf, he uncorked it and poured exactly five drops of its potion onto the crushed seeds.

When he replaced the vial in the portable rack, he asked, "Do you know what this is?" and tapped the newly replaced vial.

She shook her head.

He smiled suddenly. It was a surprisingly winsome smile, one Hermione had seen on too rare an occasion. "You wouldn't have seen it before, but it's what remains of the mandrake juice I used during your second year at school."

"And you kept it all this– Medusa's writhing hair! There's a basilisk down that hall?" She pointed toward the magical barrier in the forecourt. Questions crowded her mind: "Why haven't you had the Aurors in? Or the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures? Is it guarding something you need a curse-breaker for?"

Severus held up a hand and she halted mid-thought. "It is not a basilisk."

"Why do you need the Mandrake juice if not to ...." Her mind raced, furiously trying to sort clues from the scant information she had been given. Hermione reached a conclusion and her eyes widened as they met the inky black gaze of her former professor. "Bill and Cormac are petrified."

Severus smiled, but it was sardonic. "Leaps in logic appear to be your forte."

She ignored the dig. "It's not Petrification?"

"No. They're in a voluntary stasis; a healing coma, if you will. The mandrake juice is a component in this elixir. It will keep Weasley and McLaggen relatively healthy until they're revived."

It was an irritatingly oblique answer, and she asked, "When will that be?"

He didn't reply. Instead, he used a thin gold spatula to fold the mandrake juice into the ground acacia seeds until a smooth paste was formed.

Hermione noticed the grim set to his features; the expression made him appear far older than his years. "Severus?" She rose from the chair and crossed to his workbench. He didn't look at her, and she saw his knuckles were white where he gripped the utensil. She asked, "When can you revive Bill and Cormac?"

He practically snarled his answer. "When we learn how to cure the curse that was killing Dumbledore."

She stifled a gasp. "Is that what it is? Dumbledore's curse?"

Severus still wouldn't look at her, but he nodded in a sharp jerking motion. Hermione's throat tightened. If what they faced was Dumbledore's curse, then the situation might be irreparable. No one knew what curse Tom Riddle had placed on Slytherin's ring, but there was no denying its lethality.

After an awkward moment, she said, "Dumbledore wasn't your..."

"Do not say 'fault'," he interrupted, his diction flawless. "We have never discussed Dumbledore."

"It's never been necessary. My opinion of you won't change."

"Your loyalty has a price beyond rubies."

Despite the blandness of his reply, Hermione was furious. And she was worried. And he hadn't told her he was in Egypt, working on this assignment. She pulled her wand and sent a hex sizzling past him, striking the padded chair where she'd been seated. It evaporated in a puff of splintered wood, cotton and tainted the air with a noxious whiff of singed material. "Don't mock me!"

To his credit, Severus didn't flinch, but said gently, "You mistake me. Loyalty is an admirable trait."

Her anger dissipated as quickly as it had risen. "Sorry. I thought...clearly I thought wrong." He turned to face her, and Hermione met his eyes; while black, they were anything but cold. She'd always found them expressive, but since they had become friends his eyes reflected things other than rage, disdain, and the cold pit of despair to which he had so often fallen prey. "I'm willing to listen to anything you'd like to say."

He sighed heavily. "If you will wait a moment, we'll deliver the potion, you may see the victims, and I will tell you what you wish to know." He lifted his wand and the flame beneath the cauldron flared brighter, and then Severus picked up the mortar to add the mandrake-acacia mash to the simmering potion.

"It's not just academic curiosity," Hermione said. "I need to know." She paced alongside the workbench, pausing at the papyrus-under-glass, her eyes deciphering the hieroglyphs more easily after six weeks spent on translation. She read 'Magic is effective together with medicine. Medicine is effective together with magic' but passed on. When she heard him put his stirring rod down, she plucked two empty vials from a small basket on the stone worktop. "Here."

He nodded in his abrupt manner and filled the vials with the sludge-like elixir.

"Do you want to bottle the rest now?" she asked.

"I can return later." He slid the vials into the breast pocket of his linen shirt and walked to the door.

"Severus, why are Bill and Cormac in stasis if it's the same as Dumbledore's curse? He wasn't..."

"Come along. I'll explain." As they returned to the main subterranean chamber Severus asked, "What do you remember about Narcissa Malfoy assisting Potter?"

"Pardon?" The question was a complete non sequitur, and Hermione almost tripped over her own feet. She barely noticed the brightly painted hieroglyphs depicting ancient witches and wizards in daily activities, from gathering grain to taking inventory in storerooms; on another wall were scenes which could only be of teachers lecturing students. Ahead was the pulsing shield barricading the unknown malevolent entity, to the right was the broad staircase ascending to the Precinct of Mut. Severus led them to the left-hand hallway, but it was a short passage leading to a hypostyle half again as large as the subterranean forecourt. The hypostyle was mostly dark, mage-lights hovering head-height between the seven freestanding columns representing the papyrus plant in bud and bloom.

"Were you aware Narcissa saved Potter's life during the last battle?" Severus asked. He didn't seem to notice their surroundings, and Hermione pushed an errant desire to explore to the back of her mind. There would be time later, she thought.

"Yes, but what does Narcissa Malfoy have do to with..." Hermione dropped the question when he glared at her. She knew what that glare meant. She sighed. Compared to his behavior from the war years, Severus was now quite domesticated, but it would never do to forget he had once been feral. "Fine. She lied to Voldemort about whether Harry was dead. That's why the family escaped Azkaban."

"In part. Exile isn't a reward, Hermione."

"Fine," she said again, grinding her teeth before relenting. "Narcissa Malfoy's lie gave Harry enough time to recover so he could finish his prophesy-damned task."

"Succinctly put. What else do you know about Narcissa?" he asked as they reached the far end of the hypostyle, and stepped into a wide corridor with several illuminated doorways ahead of them. The hall ended abruptly where a cave-in had occurred; it was the site of the present excavation team's focus. It must have been a break time because no one was working at present. Hermione would have liked to look, but at that moment, Severus stepped through the second doorway on the right.

"What else is there to know..." she broke off as she entered the room behind him. A young woman Hermione recognized but couldn't immediately place greeted Severus in a way that set Hermione's teeth on edge. The woman didn't react to the sight of his Dark Mark, and that bothered Hermione even more, but then she was distracted by catching sight of the other occupants of the room. Bill Weasley and Cormac McLaggen were laid out on hospital-style beds, covered lightly to the neck with white linen sheeting.

While McLaggen appeared much as he had the last time she had seen him, Bill looked significantly different. The scars left by Greyback's attack had subsided over the years, never entirely healing, but they had shrunk to thin red slash marks. Now, however, they were thick and scabrous as Dumbledore's hand had been. Black curse lines spread from the wounds, covering much of Bill's unconscious features.

Hermione blinked against the sudden upwelling of tears. If a cure for Dumbledore's curse couldn't be found, then she was looking at a dead man. Bill would never see his child being born, or say good night to his little daughters. His loss would be enormous, Hermione thought, and then she sniffled and glanced at the occupant of the other bed. She might not like Cormac, but he was equally a victim.

Severus' voice interrupted her reverie. "Miss Granger meet Miss Clearwater. Miss Clearwater is the matron for our endeavors."

"Most ably supported by you, Severus," the healer replied before speaking directly to Hermione. "You might not remember me, but we shared an adventure at Hogwarts."

"Of course I remember you," Hermione replied. Her memory was sufficiently jogged to conjure the image of a younger version of the brunette in the draughty, ancient halls of the school. "You're Penny, aren't you?"

"You do remember." Penny's smile was warm. "It's nice to see you again."

"You, too. You saved our lives by having a mirror when we needed one."

"You were the one who knew we needed a mirror in the first place, and why," Penny said.

Severus rolled his eyes. "Shall we dispense with the love-in?"

"You introduced us," Hermione replied tartly. "It's nice to see another friendly face."

"We have work to do," Severus said repressively as he handed the two vials of elixir to Penny.

"I didn't know you had become a Healer," Hermione commented.

Penny waved her wand, raising the back half of Bill's bed to angle him in a semi-recumbent position. Flick and swish. A silent incantation later and he had swallowed his potion. Penny spoke as she administered to her patient. "I was fascinated by Madam Pomfrey. She was far more capable than any of us realized. I originally planned on a career at the Ministry, but after what happened with the basilisk, I changed my course of study."

The healer turned to her next patient and repeated the procedure with McLaggen. His looks had never appealed to Hermione beyond his sterling ability to needle Ron. However, Penny seemed captivated by his rugged features, and there was something proprietary in her manner as she fondly brushed a wiry curl from his brow. Only then did Hermione see the striation of black lines radiating from some point under his hair. Her stomach turned.

Severus asked the healer, "Did Lucius tell you about dinner?"

Penny blinked and withdrew her hand from McLaggen's hair. "I'll be there," she said, "and I've sent an owl to Ayman. He's in Cairo, but he should return in time." She held her hand out to Severus as if expecting another vial.

He said, "There are twenty-eight vials in the basket on my workbench. You may decant the cauldron." Then he jerked his head for Hermione to follow him and left the room.

"I'll go now, Severus," Penny called out. "See you at dinner, Hermione."

"You, too." Hermione hurried after Severus. She didn't catch up with him until he was on the staircase leading to the surface. "Where are we going now?"

"Out."

"All right." They erupted into the hot afternoon, and it was as if they were in the path of a Norwegian Ridgeback's flaming breath. Instantly, sweat dotted Hermione's brow. She was glad the Anti-glare charm was still in effect against the brightness of the sun.

Severus stalked down the embankment toward Isheru, heedless of whether he drew attention or not, and it was unclear whether he wore his Muggle-repelling identification.

"Why won't you just tell me..." Hermione scrambled down the dusty incline, sliding a little as she descended, "...what's going on?"

His jaw was clenched and his hands were knotted into fists. Again.

Very real fear blossomed in Hermione's mind. "Severus?"

He held up a hand, a stalling measure. He stared intently into the water of the sacred lake as if it might solve all his problems.

With a leap of logic that would provoke Severus' teasing, Hermione said, "I don't think Bill and Cormac are the only ones who've been cursed." Severus didn't reply, but he didn't negate her postulation. "I also think the other victim is someone you know. Narcissa?"

"It is not Narcissa."

"Just tell me! I need to know. It's why I was assigned..."

"Is that why you're here, Hermione? Because you were given an assignment?"

She held her frustration in, but it took effort. "You know me better. If you'd bothered to read my letter you would know Fleur came to see me. She hasn't heard from Bill and is worried. What she said worried me, too. I know Bill. He doesn't make mistakes. Please just tell me."

He sighed and unclenched his fists. "There's a lengthy explanation."

She huffed. "When isn't there? Shall we find somewhere more comfortable? My home away from home has seating ... and Cooling Charms."

"That would be acceptable. Lead the way." Severus gestured for her to precede him. He was infuriatingly quiet as they skirted the lake and made for the grove of palms where Hermione's tent stood.

Hermione frowned at the unassuming portable residence. "Fucking tent," she muttered and passed through the magical spell-ward guarding the entrance. Proving as uncanny as any owl, Persephone glided into the tent above their heads and into the room Hermione had claimed for her own. Once inside and dust free, Hermione sighed in bliss. Cool, cool bliss. Then she fixed a steely glare on Severus who remained in the doorway.

He smirked. "Minerva does it better."

She pinched her lips before speaking. "Unless you were the one to curse them, I don't understand why you keep putting this off?" Before he could be outraged, she continued, "And I know what you think of Bill, so you didn't." She pointed to the sofa and each word sounded as if it were bitten off before it left her lips. "Now sit there and tell me. Don't leave anything out."

When he obediently followed her command, she watched him suspiciously. Hermione slipped off her shoes and folded herself into the armchairs with floral upholstery.

Severus turned sideways and reclined until his head was pillowed on one arm of the sofa. He closed his eyes and began to speak. "When the Dark Lord learned Narcissa lied about Potter being alive, he cursed her."

"I had no idea."

"There were few who did and fewer who would've cared had they known."

Hermione shrugged; she would have numbered in the majority.

"They didn't discover it until later," he said, "when the family was allowed to see a Healer."

"She didn't notice she was cursed before then?"

He opened an eye and pierced her with his glare. "It was not her only injury, or even the most urgent."

She hesitated, but then said, "I doubt anyone was left unscathed." He closed his eye again, but did not immediately take up the tale. With some foreboding, she asked, "What did Riddle curse her with?"

Severus raised a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose as if warding off a headache. Perhaps he was, Hermione thought.

Then he sighed. "It was the same as Dumbledore's. He called it a Withering Curse."

Hermione shuddered.

"Unlike Dumbledore, Narcissa was struck in the elbow. The curse radiates from the point of impact. Because of Lucius and Narcissa's circumstances, adequate medical attention was difficult to come by, and they consulted every known curse expert willing to work with them. There weren't many. I refined the restorative elixir I had created for Dumbledore, and Narcissa drank it religiously."

Hermione blinked. He'd used the past tense. "She's dead then?"

"She died shortly after Draco was allowed back into England. He found the papyrus I sent you among the Dark Lord's things."

"I'm surprised the MLE didn't confiscate anything that was Riddle's."

When he looked at her, his black eyes held a distant expression. "The manor was sealed until one of the family's return. Potter himself headed the inspection." Severus grimaced. "I'll give him credit; Potter took only what was necessary, and none of his team damaged as much as a teacup."

Hermione smiled. "Harry can be fair-minded like that."

"What a paragon." The words were delivered in a voice as dry as the desert encroaching upon the Nile's verdant boundaries, and then Severus turned his head toward the tent's ceiling. "Nevertheless, Draco found the Dark Lord's cache in the Manor's library."

She leaned forward. "Including the papyrus on your workbench?"

"As I said before. It appears to be the recipe for an antidote to the Withering Curse, but is incomplete. There is a scroll missing. Draco searched everywhere; he even re-enlisted Potter's aid."

"Draco Malfoy asked Harry for help?" She was astonished. "Harry never said anything about this."

He sneered. "The reason Potter does anything escapes me."

"Let's not argue about Harry."

"We have agreed to disagree about Potter in the past."

"And what a memorable evening that was." She smiled at the memory. It had occurred shortly after Severus had been released from St. Mungo's and had been pardoned by the Ministry. Hermione had brought him take-away to celebrate and ended up leaving before she had eaten any of the chicken tikka.

Severus snorted. "It was a week before my hair resumed its normal color."

"And I thought you looked fetching in curls." Then she laughed. "What about me? I had to present my findings on the Avery property in Wales. I'm sure Bogrod thought I was mocking him with the pointy ears you gave me."

"Not to mention the green skin tone. That will teach you to defend the Boy Who Blundered."

She sighed. "Harry means well."

His tone had bite when he said, "A card at Christmas would be sufficient."

Amused in spite of circumstances, Hermione replied, "I'll be sure to tell him when next I see him."

"I won't hold my breath waiting for the results."

"No, that probably wouldn't be a good idea. Harry isn't always predictable."

Severus actually chuckled. "What a gross understatement."

Comfortable silence blanketed the room for a moment before Hermione broke it. "Let's get back to the point, shall we?"

Severus sat up and stretched his long legs to rest on the coffee table, ankles neatly crossed. "Potter searched the catalogues made from Death Eaters' holdings, and reported the lack of acquisition or even mention of a papyrus. Draco sent copies of what he had discovered to his parents, and Lucius and Narcissa came to Egypt. During their search, they heard rumors of a magical collegium. It was further rumored to be a great seat of learning with ties to the library at Al Iskandariyya. They began their investigations there, at Qait Bay."

"Of course," she said, captivated despite her relations with the Malfoys. Having been in Alexandria so recently Hermione could imagine the Malfoys beginning the search there.

"For a short time, they thought they'd discovered the location, only to find the ruins of the Pharos lighthouse instead."

"How disappointing."

"You have no idea. I believe it was then Narcissa lost hope."

His features set into the grim, stoic lines Hermione remembered from her youth. What astonished her was how unnatural the expression looked on his face now. She waved her hand to indicate their surroundings. "When did they know this was the right location?"

"Last year. We all hoped for a reprieve–" He shrugged his shoulders, but she knew it had mattered to him.

"You'd kept her alive for nine years."

He glanced at her, his expression indecipherable. "If we had kept her in an indefinite stasis, she might still be alive."

"Why didn't you – er -- they?"

"She wouldn't allow it. Would you?"

"No," she replied, shifting positions. "I would want to sort it out myself, or help."

"Do you blame Narcissa for doing any less?"

"No. I'm sorry."

He pierced her with his glare. "Don't dissemble, Hermione. You didn't like her."

She met his glare with one of her own, but her tone was gentle when she spoke. "I know Narcissa was your friend, and I'm sorry she died. I also know she saved Harry's life, but it's difficult for me to forget the way she did nothing while her sister cursed me."

"You were cordial enough with Lucius earlier."

"It irritated him."

He snorted. "It did indeed."

"Tell me about the basilisk."

He frowned. "It is not a basilisk."

"Fine. Did whatever it is curse Narcissa again?"

"No. She was bedridden by then. I came to be whatever help I could."

Reminded how often Severus had been unreachable over the past two or three years gave Hermione a peculiar pang. She had always assumed his absences were periodic, anti-social sulks. Now she knew better, and it hurt to know he hadn't confided in her. In all fairness, her antipathy toward the Malfoys, singularly and as a family, was most likely a deciding factor in Severus' decision not to tell her. It hurt nonetheless.

He was unaware of her introspection. "When I arrived," he said, continuing his story, "I knew it was only a matter of weeks, months if we were lucky. Over the years, the Withering Curse damaged Narcissa's internal organs, and complete collapse was imminent."

"There was only so much you could do without the actual antidote or spell reversal."

"I know that, Hermione," he snapped. "I don't need coddling."

Hermione privately disagreed, but refrained from saying so.

He sighed. "In any event, we were in Aswan when Draco arrived, and for several weeks, we attempted to recreate the entire potion from what we had translated. The three of us traced threadbare clues and false leads when we could, when Lucius could tear himself away from Narcissa."

Hermione was touched by this story of familial devotion. It reminded her painfully of her parents. That they lived was her solace; that they knew her not was her ever-present sorrow.

"Out of desperation, perhaps, or serendipity," Severus said, his fingers pressing together as if they were mirror copies of one another, forming a pyramid, "I picked up a copy of Nestor L'Hote's original notes from his Egyptian surveys, and discovered his mapping of the Mut Precinct. As I had been studying a recent layout of Karnak the day before, I noticed several discrepancies between the two. Draco was here the following day. When he reported the presence of a reconstructed healing temple within the precinct itself...."

"I imagine there was rejoicing."

"I have rarely seen Lucius so hopeful," Severus smiled slightly, and there was real affection in the smile. "Draco took steps to blend in with the Muggles, and within days he found the entrance. A week later, Lucius brought Narcissa to see the staircase. It was the last time she left her bed."

"How terribly sad."

"There was worse to come."

"Worse? How could things get– Oh! It was Draco who was cursed, wasn't it?"

Severus' shoulders slumped. "Lucius couldn't leave Narcissa, and I was still in Aswan finishing the last version of the antidote. I do not know all the details. Lucius says little on the topic, but if the recent past is any indication, Draco will have attempted to hire an archeological team. Too many in the magical community know who he is and what he has done. No one would work for him." He leaned forward, his hair swinging like curtains to hide his expression. "Out of desperation, Lucius went to Gringotts."

"Was that when he hired Cormac?"

"McLaggen was hired later, after Gringotts turned Lucius down."

Her eyes widened. "They turned him down?"

"Initially." Severus let his head rest against the back of the sofa. His nose looked larger from this angle, she thought irrelevantly. "Neither the Ministry nor the SCE were willing to waive 'ownership' in favor of the goblins," he said. "But we're skipping ahead. When Draco learned of Gringotts' reaction, he took on the task himself."

"That's when he was cursed?"

"Yes."

"The basilisk's in the library, isn't it?"

Severus snorted. "It is most decidedly not a basilisk, Hermione, but you're correct. It is in the library, or better yet, it guards the passage to the collegium's library. Draco confirmed that it was a library before he was confronted."

She was lost in thought for a long, contemplative pause. "What did they tell Narcissa?"

His head jerked up, and she realized he had almost fallen asleep. "They – we didn't, at first," he said. "Draco came to Aswan. He referred to himself as my first test subject." Severus' expression was bleak. "When the potion failed, I dosed Draco with the restorative elixir."

"I'm so sorry, Severus."

Their eyes met, and she knew he could read the sincerity on her face. The corner of his mouth quirked upward in acknowledgment. Severus shifted, until he rested one arm on his propped up knee, and let his hand hang. In other circumstances it would have been dead sexy, as it was Hermione was too busy looking at his face to notice.

"Draco was desperate to prevent his father or me from going into the excavation on our own, and yet terrified to see his mother." Severus glanced at her. "I persuaded him to return to Luxor. When Lucius saw Draco he suspected the truth, but Narcissa knew immediately – it was too much for her."

Hermione's fingers covered her mouth. "She died?"

"That day."

"Oh, how cruel."

"It was. I will never forget the depth of Lucius' despair. If it hadn't been for the hope offered by having found the library, I believe he would have killed himself."

From his expression, Hermione could imagine how difficult it had been, and despite her dislike, Hermione was saddened by Narcissa Malfoy's death. Diverting Severus, however, she asked, "Is that when Lucius hired McLaggen?"

"Yes. Gringotts wasn't interested, but then Draco remembered McLaggen worked there. McLaggen was very interested." He snorted. "Arrogant snot. He didn't last a day before suffering the guardian's displeasure."

Hermione leaned forward. "I'm a little confused. Didn't Narcissa die last year?"

"November."

"Your restorative supplement kept Dumbledore alive for a year and Narcissa for nine. Why are the others in healing comas now? It's only been a few months."

"It has to do with the location of the curse itself. Draco was cursed in the chest, directly over his heart. After two months, it was clear he couldn't continue without considerable risk. McLaggen lasted barely a month."

"I saw Bill, and the encroachment on McLaggen's jaw. Where was he hit?"

He glanced at her sharply. "McLaggen was hit in the ear and Bill in the face."

"Oh, sweet Merlin!" So many of her curse-breaking assignments had resulted in minimal consequences, but in this case, if she – they – weren't successful, three men could die. Three men she knew. "Why did Gringotts agree – oh, that's right, they'll acquire any goblin-made artifacts." Hermione turned pensive, and stared at Severus. "Bill arrived a week ago."

"The day after Gringotts sealed the bargain. He spent his first three days reading Draco's and McLaggen's notes." He lifted his dangling hand to point toward the dining table with its scattered evidence of research in progress. "As you saw, the curse targeted Grayback's scars, and Bill was in stasis within hours."

"And you didn't think to inform his family?" she asked, indignantly.

"It would have broken the confidentiality clause."

"You could've arranged to tell Fleur."

"Gringotts assured us it was being handled."

Hermione stared at Severus, processing all he had told her. One thing stood out, and when she acknowledged the truth of it, her feelings were hurt beyond measure. "Why, Severus?"

"Why did Lucius wait so long?" He looked at her as if she were a first year and didn't know the answer to a question. "He's persona non grata, Hermione. No one would help him."

"That's not what I'm asking," she said.

"Then what?" he snapped.

"It's been seven months since Draco was cursed, six since McLaggen. You've been helping Lucius all this time. For years."

"Not consistently," he replied, and his incomprehension was completely exasperating to Hermione. She shot to her feet, and Severus' eyes widened. Cautiously, he said, "I have been in England, as you well know."

"If I had my wand I'd hex you." Irritably, she brushed a stray curl from her face.

"You do have your wand."

"Remind me to hex you later." She paced the large room, from dining table to coffee table, her gaze gliding over the piles of parchment, scrolls, and research materials left in situ. Her course diverted around the sofa, after which she returned to her original position and stared at him, scowling. "I'm too busy deciding how furious to be."

Abruptly, Severus straightened. "Whatever for?!"

She asked with scant patience, "Why didn't you ask me to help?"

His expression was sheer incredulity. "What would I say to you, Hermione?" His voice then twisted into sarcasm. "Lucius Malfoy, ex-Death Eater, scourge of Muggle-borns everywhere, the man in whose home you were brutally tortured and mutilated, he needs some help. Drop everything and come at once. Of course, you might die as a result, but come anyway."

Hermione's shoulders dropped, and she shrugged off her irritation. "All right. I understand you didn't ask because you thought I wouldn't help the Malfoys. But I would have come for you. If you had asked, I would have been here as fast as I could arrange transportation." Severus just stared at her. He looked Petrified. She wondered if he was even breathing. "Severus?"

He blinked and shut his mouth.

"Severus?"

"I did not ... I do not..." He rose to his feet, his posture stiff, face an expressionless mask. Uncharacteristically, his hands betrayed the turbulence of his thoughts, clenching and unclenching as she had seen him do at the lake earlier. "I do not ask for help."

"It's what friends do, Severus. It's what you do," she said gently, and then she took pity on his discomfort by returning to her seat and changing the subject, or rather, returning to the main topic. "To recap, if I may? Draco discovered a magical collegium which houses a not-basilisk, and the not-basilisk guards the corridor leading to a library which most likely houses the papyri required to brew an antidote to the Withering Curse – oh! Were there signs of the collegium being found before the Malfoys arrived?"

Severus finally sat down, staring at her as if he'd never seen her before. Perhaps, she thought, he hadn't. When he didn't answer the question, Hermione surmised he was absorbing her revelation, although why he didn't know she cared for him deeply after eight years of friendship, she couldn't imagine. Well, she could, considering the way he'd been manipulated and abused, but still....

She resumed her summation. "It has to have been Riddle. Sometime during his transformative sojourn, he discovered the collegium, and hence learned the Withering Curse." She paused in case Severus wanted to add something. He appeared to still be mulling over her comment. Finally, she commented, "He was awfully good with snakes. Are you sure the guardian's not a basilisk?"

Severus seemed to have realigned the axes of his universe for his response was perfectly in character. "Only if you consider a creature with the body of a lioness, the wings of a gryphon, and the torso of a woman a basilisk."

"Oh," she practically breathed her answer. "You've found a sphinx."

"Worse."

"Worse?"

"It's also a ghost."

~o0o~

End Notes, Riddle Solutions:

(1) The answer is 'nothing'. My sons learned this riddle in grade school; the original author is some anonymous wit who shall never be properly accredited. My thanks, nonetheless.

(2) It's a 'secret'. And I found this on the Riddle Poem Page on the internet.