Three

Riddle Me This

Author's notes and disclaimers found in Chapter One.

Chapter Three

Voiceless it cries,

Wingless flutters,

Toothless bites,

Mouthless mutters.(1)

Severus had gone and Hermione settled in to do what she did best. Research.

She waded through Draco's and McLaggen's notes and reference materials. The bulk of the parchment and pyramids of scrolls were Draco's handiwork, but McLaggen had done a fair share, although not quite as thoroughly. The most recent parchments, however, bore Bill Weasley's distinctive handwriting. Hermione reasonably decided to see where her colleagues had been before she tackled the problem directly.

A sphinx.

A ghost sphinx.

Just because she had never heard of one didn't mean it didn't exist. After all, she had been forced to recant her skepticism after Luna Lovegood proved the existence of the Crumple-Horned Snorkack. Hermione had been happy for Luna, but less than pleased to lose the hundred galleons to Ginny Potter.

Fortunately, Hermione was familiar with common or garden sphinxes. On occasion, Gringotts used them to guard the higher priority vaults. All curse-breakers knew of their existence, and once past journeyman status, they were introduced to each of the seven sphinxes who resided in the lower levels.

None of them were ghosts, however. Hermione had always understood that only humans could be ghosts. She pursed her lips. This was a puzzle. A riddle, she thought and her lips morphed into a scowl. Not funny at all.

She reached for the parchment Bill had scribbled on, and scanned his notes. Their thoughts had coincided as the very first thing he had written was: Sphinx ghost? Ghost?"

She shuffled through McLaggen's pages, scanning them, looking for a similar question but found none. He had initially focused on determining whether the ghost sphinx was a magical construct. With a shudder, Hermione remembered being confronted by the construct of Dumbledore creation which haunted Grimmauld Place after the old wizard's death. If only Mad-Eye Moody were still alive, she thought. He had been a canny old wizard.

Summoning a glass from the tent's kitchen, Hermione absently cast Aguamenti before settling in to read her cursed colleagues' notes.

Hours later, Hermione was startled by Penny's arrival.

Penny laughed. "Don't you need light to read?" She pulled her wand from the untidy bun on her head and with a non-verbal incantation, several lamps flared into life.

Hermione blinked, and rubbed her eyes. "I hadn't even noticed."

"You were squinting at the page," Penny pointed out.

"I suppose I was." Hermione watched the other woman settle onto the sofa, almost exactly where Severus had been. "Do you mind if I ask you some questions?"

"Not at all," Penny replied. "I want this to be over." She sighed and angled her head back, in a parody of Severus' earlier posture.

Hermione noticed the glitter of tears in the other woman's eyelashes. "Severus told me about Cormac."

Penny's lips curved in a small smile. She said, "I want him back," so softly Hermione almost didn't hear. "I want him whole."

"I will do my best." Hermione promised.

Penny lifted her head and pierced Hermione with her deep blue eyes. "Good. I know your best is nothing less than excellent."

Hermione blushed. "Thank you."

"Do you mind if I get ready while we talk. I want to freshen up before we go to Lucius'." Penny eyed Hermione and said, mildly, "You might want to wash your face before we go. You've got ink on your chin."

"Have I?" Hermione swiped at her chin, only to smear the ink further. She couldn't see it, but Penny's reaction was a clear indication. She capped the ink and put the quill on its rest before moving across to her room. "We can both get ready while we talk."

Penny entered her own room, and her reply was slightly muffled. "All right."

Hermione eyed the clothing she'd packed, and called out, "Do we have to dress for the occasion?"

"I wouldn't suggest you go in the nude. They might get entirely the wrong opinion."

"That's not at all what I meant." Hermione laughed. "Is it formal? I didn't bring anything that would be suitable – although I suppose I could transfigure something."

"Casual is fine." Penny stepped into the opening of Hermione's room. She had changed into summer robes the color of spring daffodils.

Hermione groaned. "My only robes are formal. I generally wear jeans on location."

"Transfigure something then, or simply change your top. Now, what did you want to ask?"

"How soon after he was cursed did you treat Draco?" Hermione eyed her nightdress. After a quick swish and flick, it was transformed into a long swishy skirt in pale blue. Paired with a three-quarter-length sleeved top, she would be modest, comfortable, and suitably dressed. Hermione turned to see the other witch staring at her skirt. "What?"

"That's pretty. Now I wish I'd done something similar." Penny fingered her more restrictive robes momentarily before dropping the fold of cloth. "To answer your question, though, I didn't treat Draco at all. He was in a healing coma by the time Cormac sent for me."

As Penny talked Hermione unbuttoned her jeans and stepped out of them, slipping the skirt up and over her hips. She enjoyed the swishy feel of the hem around her ankles. Penny was right. It was quite pretty.

"I was so angry he hadn't asked sooner..." the older witch unknotted her hair, its curls twining around fingers making it an onerous task, "...but Cormac hoped they could create the antidote before he had to say anything. He's optimistic that way," she said fondly.

It didn't tie in with what Hermione knew of Cormac McLaggen, but she held her tongue. Love altered people's perspectives. "So you didn't treat Draco at all, and you only saw Cormac after a few weeks?" she asked. "What about Bill?"

"Oh, I treated him immediately. Why do you ask?"

Hermione fluttered her free hand toward the accumulation of research. "I can't find any reference to the riddle."

"Riddle?"

"Traditionally, sphinxes guard treasure or sacred places. They do not allow anyone to pass without payment, and payment to a sphinx is the answer to their riddles. It's how Harry reached the Goblet of Fire. He had to face a sphinx first."

"How horrid." Penny shuddered. "Cormac didn't mention any riddles."

Hermione frowned. "And I found nothing in any of his notes. Or Draco's, or even Bill's."

Penny's frown matched Hermione's. "Now that you're asking, no one recalls much of their encounter with the sphinx at all. I put it down to the pain they were in at the time. Now I wish we'd been more thorough in questioning them. I was so distraught about Cormac's..." A small chime sounded throughout the tent thoroughly derailing her train of thought. "If we don't leave now, we'll be late," Penny said, offering her arm to Hermione. "I'll take you Side-Along."

"Hang on a moment," Hermione said, and called out, "Persephone!" as she crossed to the table filled with research, notes, and conjectures. She hurriedly quilled a note on a piece of parchment as Persephone flew silently from her perch in Hermione's room. The large, snowy owl landed on the table and bobbed her head with pleasure when Hermione brushed her feathers. "Please deliver this as quickly as possible." Persephone accepted the missive, and launched herself toward the entrance, flying through the flap that magically rose for her egress. "That's sorted," Hermione said and turned toward Penny. "I'm ready. Maybe the others will know about the riddle."

Penny took her arm and spun on her heel, squeezing the two witches into the nether guided by Penny's determination and destination.

An hour later, Hermione was impatient to discuss the topic at the forefront of her mind. She had been graciously welcomed to the Malfoy flat, a beautifully decorated and luxurious home, and met the small team of dedicated specialists responsible for cataloging the Mut Temple's collegial legacy. Among them, Edouard Delacour, no relation to Fleur, was the team's photographer. He regaled his fellow diners with his latest escapade in a Cairo Muggle nightclub. As a half-blood, Edouard traveled between communities frequently and was an engaging raconteur. However, Hermione was too preoccupied to really listen.

Dinner was Hermione's first opportunity to taste local cuisine. The meal was served family style, with serving dishes waddling between host and guests.

"I've never had pigeon before," she commented to Severus who was seated to her left. "It's delicious."

"I prefer it to pheasant," Severus replied. There was a lot to be said for a potions master and his dexterity with a knife. He dismembered his pigeon with exacting skill. At one point, he accepted a liberal portion of salad from a side dish which then settled quite happily between his plate and Hermione's. Every so often a piece of cucumber would slip onto her plate. She pretended not to notice.

Severus waved off a platter as it sidled toward Hermione's place setting, and with what could only be described as a sulky air, it turned toward the opposite end of the table.

An accomplished host, Lucius noticed, and asked, "Do you not care for mushrooms, Miss Granger?"

"I'm sure they're as delicious as the rest of the meal," Hermione said, watching Ayman Mubarak, the magical site's recently returned Field Director, accept a generous serving spooned over his fish, "but I've lost my appetite for them."

"A bad reaction?" Penny asked from across the table.

"Over-indulgence, I'm afraid," Hermione replied before glancing at Severus. He was watching her, his expression unexpectedly affectionate.

Lucius cleared his throat, and she shifted her attention to her host. "I confess myself surprised, Miss Granger. I would not have taken you for the type."

"It was a circumstantial thing," she said, shrugging off his curiosity, uninterested in explaining her aversion further. She didn't know the other diners well enough to talk about the time she, Harry and Ron had been on the run. It was then Hermione had traipsed through each and every forest where they camped, searching for edible fungi, and adding them in every possible meal to bolster their scant rations. Along with camping, mushrooms had made it to her never again list.

Edouard took a small portion and speared a bite-sized piece, sauce dripped from the curved cap. "Perhaps it's the texture. I've never been fond of fungi," he said, and Hermione stifled a giggle.

At her side, Severus coughed to cover his laugh at the other man's expense. "I foresee a future coffee table book of the same name," he said snidely, but only for Hermione to hear. She laughed.

In what became a thoroughly entertaining conversation, the others discussed their least favorite foods. Hermione's sole contribution was her dislike of mushrooms, but she was amused to learn Lucius disliked asparagus, Penny wouldn't touch veal, and as Hermione already knew, Severus was not fond of eggplant or cucumber.

When the cheese was served, there was a brief lull in conversation, and Hermione seized the moment to ask of Lucius, "Do you recall Draco mentioning a riddle the sphinx..."

He cut her off by saying, "Speaking business at the dinner table is vulgar, Miss Granger."

A scathing retort danced on the tip of her tongue, but Severus elbowed her. "Not now," he said quietly.

Hermione scowled at Lucius, and shared her disgruntlement with Severus by turning to engage Edouard, her right-hand neighbor, in conversation with an anecdote about her first sight of the Eiffel Tower. He seized the topic with enthusiasm.

Finally, Lucius dabbed his lips with his serviette and announced, "There is coffee in the lounge for those who wish to stay."

Hermione was the first to rise from her chair.

At her side, Severus chuckled. "I've been told that patience is its own reward," he remarked casually as he stood, but his glance was pointed.

Hermione was never able to remain angry with Severus for long. "As you have ample reason to know," she said and then smiled at him.

"I am not a patient man." When she opened her mouth, a contradiction half-formed and ready to escape, he added, "with certain exceptions."

As they left the dining room, Edouard, Ayman and his assistant bade the rest a cheerful good evening and departed. The Field Director's assistant was a dark-haired, swarthy-complected man whose eyes were as pale as a Malfoy's. He had made up for his striking looks by being nearly as silent as the grave, and Hermione didn't think she'd heard his name or a word escape his lips the entire evening.

Hermione turned to Severus. "Now can we talk about the riddle?"

"No."

"What!" she exclaimed. "Dinner's over."

Her reaction had drawn the attention of the others. Lucius had been chatting with Penny, the other remaining guest, about an author they both liked, but he politely excused himself and came to Severus' side. Not for the first time, Hermione noticed how at ease Severus was in Lucius' presence. Severus rarely allowed people to come too close to him, and it had taken her years before she had found the temerity to offer him a polite peck on the cheek or a pat on the arm.

Now she remembered Sirius Black calling Severus Malfoy's lapdog, and she also remembered Severus' white-lipped reaction. Hermione had always dismissed the comment as one more of Sirius' vicious taunts, but she wondered.

Shoving the wayward thought to one side, she addressed Lucius, "I want to know what riddle the sphinx asked Draco and Cormac and Bill. I can't find it in any of their notes."

Lucius looked at Severus quizzically. "To the best of my knowledge there was none."

"There must have been."

Lucius shrugged. "Draco never mentioned it. Neither did Mr. McLaggen."

"Or Bill," Severus supplied.

"There has to have been a riddle, or it cannot be a sphinx."

Lucius scoffed. "That's the sum of your expertise on the matter? If it doesn't ask a riddle the creature isn't a sphinx?"

"Conundrums are a fundamental sphinxian characteristic. Asking the riddle determines worthiness in the supplicant." Hermione's pedantic reply curled Lucius' lip further, and Severus put a hand on his friend's shoulder. Hermione stared, and then dragged her eyes away, looking up at Severus' face instead. His eyes were fixed on her.

He said, "If you will recall, we're dealing with an anomaly. It is a ghost sphinx. Perhaps there are other anomalies as well. Perhaps it isn't a sphinx at all."

She shook her head. "While its being a ghost is anomalous, I've read all the notes and they indicate it's a true sphinx. Draco and Cormac were quite exhaustive in their research, although they did consider the possibility of a construct. Yet, even Bill's notes concur with their conclusion. If they're correct, and I believe they are, then there must be a riddle."

Lucius said, "There was none."

Penny interrupted. "If I may?"

Severus turned toward the healer. "Of course you may."

"I didn't have an opportunity to see Draco or Cormac until long after they were cursed, but I did treat Bill. He mentioned nothing about a riddle, but he was in considerable pain at the time. During the course of my examination, I noticed the tell-tale trace of a Memory Charm."

"What?" Lucius asked, his eyes widening.

"It wasn't directly related to the curse injury itself, and the traces were so faint they could have been weeks or months old."

Severus' eyes narrowed. "Why am I just learning of this now? We need to know everything..."

"It's in my report." Penny's posture stiffened, affronted by the accusation.

"Where?"

"I listed it as either pre-existing or incidental symptomology."

"This is unrelated to the curse," Lucius said. "Narcissa certainly wasn't hit by a Memory Charm. She was checked most carefully."

"As was Dumbledore," Severus added.

Hermione's brain whirled with details and information, thoughts percolating as she toyed with the puzzle.

"I remember that look," Penny exclaimed, laughing suddenly and pointing at Hermione. "It's the exact same look you had that day in the library."

"Is it?" Hermione asked, blushing. "I didn't know I had a 'look', but I remember the moment I confirmed that we faced a basilisk. I could hardly wait to find Harry."

The mantlepiece clock chimed in the drawing room, and Hermione suddenly realized how awkward the moment had become. Victims and perpetrator sharing a meal. Although stranger things had happened after the war. Pansy Parkinson and Dean Thomas becoming a couple was a perfect example of how life after Hogwarts had changed for many.

Penny drifted toward the door and broke the awkward silence. "I'm afraid I must check on my patients. I'll see you later, Hermione. I'll send you the report again, Severus. Thank you for a lovely dinner, Lucius."

She slipped out before Hermione could say anything, and then Lucius turned to look directly at her, his face expressionless. "The war has been over for a decade, Miss Granger."

"I didn't mention the basilisk to upset you." Hermione thought Lucius' discomfort was fairly earned, but pricking his composure had not been her intention. Still, she was intrigued by the fact she had been capable of doing so. "It's how I met Penny," she explained. "We were both victims."

Lucius said, "And Severus brewed the cure."

"With Devil's Club Root grown in the Malfoy greenhouses." Severus detonated the heretofore unknown detail in exactly the right place to dislodge Hermione's paradigm. She didn't particularly thank him for it. Neither did her host, apparently.

"Severus!" Lucius snapped, glaring at the dark-haired wizard.

Hermione stared at the two men, taking in the undercurrents between them. Providing ingredients for the Mandrake potion was inadequate compensation to the many Lucius had injured. Yet, the fact he had attempted to mitigate that damage left her speculating about any other efforts at expiation he might have made. Then she wondered if that had been Severus' purpose in revealing the information in the first place. She said, "I had no idea, obviously."

"You were never intended to know." Lucius strode toward the inner hall. "I will not apologize for my actions, Miss Granger, but I never wanted to kill children. Good evening." He departed quietly, leaving Severus and Hermione alone.

"He is not a monster."

"Despite his intentions and your good opinion, Severus, I distinctly remember being at the other end of his wand and running for my life. Moments like those tend to color one's opinion," she said coolly. "Good night." Abruptly, she wrenched open the front door and slammed it behind her.

She didn't hear him curse nor did she realize the muffled crash from inside the flat was the sound of Severus' fist hitting the wall.

Always wax, yet always wane; I melt, succumbing to the flame.

Lighting darkness with fate unblest, I soon devolve to shapeless mess.(2)

Activity beyond the barrier roused her from unpleasant memories. Despite her incorporeal body, she felt the uneasy ripple of Darkness cascade against her awareness. The tainted Dark One had entered her domain. He came to stand on the other side of the magical barrier, staring into the corridor beyond.

She did not know his thoughts, but she smiled and flexed her claws.

Here was her next victim.

I have a bed, but never sleep;

I run, but do not walk;

I have a mouth, but never talk.(3)

"Hermione."

The voice infiltrated her dream, and she stirred, her curly hair tumbling across her parchment pillow.

"Wake up, Hermione."

She closed her mouth and frowned. In the recesses of her mind, wakefulness stirred. She shifted in the chair and vaguely knew she had fallen asleep at the table, draped across Draco's notes on the history of Mut and her son, Khonsu.

"Granger," the deep voice rumbled through her subconscious thoughts, "I need you."

Hermione's eyes snapped open and stared into Severus' too pale face. "Wha's wrong?" Her voice was thick and blurred. When he said nothing, alarm raced along her nerves, spurring her into full consciousness, and it was then she noticed his stance. "Severus?"

"I..." He broke off and looked beyond her.

She could see the careful way he held himself, as if to stave off excruciating pain, and the despair on his face was more than she could bear. "What's happened?"

"I..." He clamped his jaw shut and she could practically hear him grind his teeth.

Anxiety triggered adrenaline and Hermione shoved away from the table. Her hair flopped into her eyes; irritably she brushed it back. Her tone was shrill. "How are you hurt?"

Black eyes bored into hers and Hermione almost staggered at what she saw in their depths. Her fingers flew to her lips. There was no need to ask what he had done. She knew. "Oh, Severus," she whispered. "How – why? Why would you do such a thing?"

He sneered. "What were your plans for this morning?"

She flushed. "You're right, but it's my job. I've been trained."

"As were Bill and McLaggen, and even Draco is well-versed in the Dark Arts."

Hermione didn't reply. The truth needed no defense. She blinked back incipient tears. "You – you arrogant – independent -- daft pillock!" She darted toward the loo, pulling off her top as she crossed the living room, heedless of his awestruck expression. "I need -- I need a shower to clear my head. Wait right here. Don't go anywhere."

"I came to you."

Despite the horrible situation, the dry humor in his tone stopped her in her tracks, and she turned to face him, one hand braced against the loo's door jamb, her shirt clutched in her hand. Severus stood next to the dining table where she'd wasted too many precious moments in sleep.

"You did," Hermione whispered. "You came to me." She stared at him as if memorizing his features. He stared back. While she couldn't read his expression she was fairly certain he could read hers. She cleared her throat. "Where -- where did the curse hit you?"

Without a word, Severus pulled his left arm forward. The long shirtsleeve had been rolled up to his elbow revealing his Dark Mark. It had faded to insignificance over the years, but had now changed overnight. The outline of the skull was vividly black, and the snake was a welt of pulsing Darkness. Hermione cried out as if in pain, and her tears came then. With one despairing glance at his face, she retreated to the shower thinking how utterly stupid she was. How foolish to think she had controlled her feelings for him.

Pressed for time, Hermione skimped on her normal rituals: lather, rinse and no repeat. She washed away the last of her tears and then stepped out of the shower, grabbing the nearest towel. As the last syllable of a non-verbal Accio faded from her mind, her wand squeezed through the gap beneath the door and into her hands. Hurriedly, she summoned clean clothes and cast a charm to dry her hair. Instantly, the sodden, straggly mess snapped and crackled as it dried, puffing around her head before falling into unruly curls framing her face. When the clothes slithered under the door and into her hands, she paid no attention to whether the knickers and bra matched – they didn't – nor did she care, at that moment, whether the t-shirt was appropriately modest for Egypt.

Voices could be heard from the living room, Severus' deep tones and others' she didn't recognize. Hermione didn't bother to look in the mirror before she opened the door.

In the short span of time she'd been absent the living room had filled with people. Ayman demanded answers about the relocation of the magical barricade. His assistant shifted from foot to foot behind him, nodding in agreement as the Field Director argued with Severus. He believed the change in the barrier's location was less defensible, possibly providing a weakness the sphinx could exploit.

Severus' reply, "It was regrettably unavoidable," didn't daunt Ayman's passionate worry.

Penny, too, was there, her dressing gown held together by a hastily tied belt. She stood at Severus's side her wand moving so fast Hermione was unable to determine any but the most basic diagnostic charms. From one of the kitchen cabinets a wide terra cotta bowl rose from its shelf and flew toward Penny. She flicked her wand and it halted, hovering beneath Severus' forearm and left hand.

From behind Hermione, bottles jostled in the medicine chest until a dark blue bottle separated itself and flew into the living room and straight to the healer's hands. With sure fingers Penny poured its contents over Severus' hand and a yellow liquid dripped into the bowl below.

It was then Hermione noticed his bruised and bloodied knuckles. She frowned and would've spoken, but was distracted by movement at the tent's entrance. Lucius Malfoy had arrived. Beyond the raised tent flap sunlight glittered off the Isheru like a beautifully faceted emerald, and a small flock of birds wheeled into a graceful, swooping arc to land on the lake's banks to search for its breakfast. The scene would have been beautiful if Hermione wasn't distracted by the cataclysmic events of the morning. Lucius' sudden stillness drew her attention, however. His face appeared carved from stone, paler than the statues she'd seen the day before, but just as hard.

Severus snapped his head toward the new arrival. Hermione couldn't read his expression, but for some reason she felt as desolate as the moment Hagrid had carried Harry's limp and apparently lifeless body from the Forbidden Forest during the Battle for Hogwarts.

"You stupid sod," Lucius said, diction as precise as ever. His gaze dropped to Severus' hand soaking in the essence of Murtlap, and then he looked at Hermione. His eyes blazed with cold fire and he curled his lip.

Hermione forced herself to take a deep breath, and asked the question for which she already knew the answer. "Well?"

"It's the Withering Curse," Penny pronounced sadly. Lucius joined them, laying a hand on Severus' shoulder as Penny continued with her debriefing. The gesture was so reminiscent of the evening before, Hermione glanced at Lucius' face. He was staring at her. Hermione blinked and returned her attention to what Penny was saying. "Severus is both lucky and unlucky. The fact that he was struck on the arm should have given him several months before we had to consider a healing coma..."

"Should have?" Lucius interrupted her. "Why is that not an option now?"

"The Dark Mark," Penny replied simply. "It's causing the curse to mutate. If we don't put Severus into stasis soon – which will halt the curse's progress entirely – I don't know if even the proper antidote will cure him."

Hermione crossed the room to stand in front of Severus, her heart stuttering in her chest. "How long does he have?"

Penny looked at Severus and when he nodded, she said, "The sooner the better. Today, if possible."

Lucius dropped his hand from Severus' shoulder and snarled, "What the fuck were you thinking?"

Severus bristled, and spoke. "Do not presume..."

"Row later," Hermione interrupted him. "We have no time for bickering."

Severus glared, and Lucius sneered at her. He said, "Do not..."

Hermione interrupted him as well. "Later."

"If there is a later," Severus said gloomily, then removed his hand from the bowl and stared at it dispassionately. The abrasions on his knuckles were noticeably better, but it was insignificant in the face of the greater threat to his life.

"There will be." She ducked her head and caught his eyes with hers, willing him to see her sincerity and her determination. The grim line of his lips softened momentarily.

Lucius muttered, "Gryffindors are so idealistic."

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him. "Stop it. We haven't time to be petty."

He raised his head to look down his nose at her. "I suppose you think you can solve this puzzle when others..." he waved his hand to indicate Severus and himself, and the unspoken more clever, better, than you was as clear as if he'd said the words aloud, "...have been unable to."

"Yes," she replied, and then ignored him and asked Severus, "Do you remember the riddle?"

It was clear he did not. Hermione turned toward the healer. "Penny, did you find evidence of memory tampering?"

"I did, and before you ask, there are similarities to the remnants I found on Bill Weasley. You should also know that I checked Bill last night, and any residual charm trace is entirely absent."

"Is that usual?" Lucius asked, once more a proponent rather than antagonist.

Penny frowned. "Not at all. I should be able to detect its traces for several more weeks."

Hermione bit her lip and Severus raised an eyebrow. Their eyes met. He was the only person in the room who knew about her post-war avocation: Memory Charms and their reversal. After the war had ended and before she'd begun her work at Gringotts, Hermione had traveled to Australia to find her parents. Fortunately, Monica and Wendell Wilkins were easily found, hale and hearty, and opening a dental practice in Brisbane. Unfortunately, Hermione was advised that too much time had passed for an effective charm-reversal. Hermione had refused to believe the healers at Australia's Cooper Hospital for Magical Maladies, but was finally forced to accept the heart-breaking diagnosis after consulting with Healer Cumbra – Gilderoy Lockhart's primary healer -- from St. Mungo's. In the end, her only consolation was that her parents were happy.

For two years Hermione had refused to accept the diagnosis. In every spare moment, she scoured wizarding libraries, corresponded with Charms experts, dipped into the fields of Muggle psychology and neurology. She learned a great deal about Memory Charms and how to reverse them, but nothing could alter her parents' fate.

"May I?" she asked Severus, while adjusting her hold on her wand.

He closed his eyes. "You may."

When she raised her wand, Lucius blocked her arm. "May you what?" he asked harshly. "What are you going to do?"

Hermione glared at the blond, and he wrapped his fingers loosely around her wrist, not tightly enough to hurt, but enough to impede. "Release me," she said evenly.

"Lucius!"

The blond ignored Severus, and with an edge to his tone, he repeated his question. "May you what?"

"I'm going to sort this out."

He jeered and Hermione wrenched her arm free, casting a Stinging Hex as she did.

"Granger!"

"You little..." Lucius ground the words out, and shook his hand.

"Hermione!"

She ignored Penny's and Severus' outbursts, and noticed but didn't acknowledge Ayman and his assistant's hasty departure. Instead, Hermione stared down the end of her wand and into Lucius' face. He was livid, and she remembered that expression all too well. If she weren't aiming her wand at him, he would have already drawn his. Her smile was grim. "Just like old times, isn't it?"

"I seem to remember always having the advantage before."

Suddenly, Hermione's wand flew from her hand, and both she and Lucius toppled face forward, victims of a swift, non-verbal stunner. As expected, she met a furious glare when she was turned right side up, but it wasn't Severus who was doing the glaring. It was Penny.

She held Hermione's wand in her hand and tapped one foot. "Honestly, can't the two of you behave properly? You both owe the other an apology, and as you said, Hermione, we don't have time to waste."

Remorse flooded Hermione, and when she was released she couldn't meet Severus' eyes.

"My apologies for behaving like a boor, Miss Granger," Lucius intoned coldly, formally, and she noticed that he rose to his feet a little stiffly.

She stood up and shook her hair out of her face. "I wasn't going to hurt Severus."

"He is my oldest friend," Lucius replied, an oblique explanation and more realistic apology rolled into one. He had donned wounded dignity like armor, and Hermione wondered whether he was jealous of her and Severus' friendship. She thought fleetingly of Harry and the lengths to which she had gone for his safety, and then glanced at Severus. She flinched. He was livid.

Sighing, she held out her hand toward Penny as she addressed the healer. "I'm not going to hex Lucius..." a sideways look at the blond spurred her additional remark, "...unless he deserves it."

Severus glowered, Lucius huffed, and Penny laughed before handing Hermione's wand to her. "I won't deny he deserved the Stinging Hex. What were you thinking, Lucius, to grab her that way? She could have been mid-cast and then what would have happened to Severus?"

Lucius said not a word, but spun on his heel and stalked toward the tent's exit.

"Please don't go." Everyone, including Lucius, turned toward Hermione, their surprise blatantly obvious. "If the circumstances had been reversed, I might've done the same," she explained. "Our history isn't conducive to giving one another the benefit of the doubt, but I'm willing to try."

Lucius inclined his head, his hair falling forward in a pale curtain. "As am I. We have a common goal."

"Yes," she said. "We do."

"If you are finished with these histrionics..." Severus' icy tone ended their efforts at rapprochement. "There is little time for frivolity."

"All right." Hermione crossed to Severus' side, and said quietly, "I'm sorry."

He pinched his lips, and then nodded. "Get on with it."

"Penny?" Hermione looked at the other witch. "How soon is soon?"

Penny flicked her wand in Severus' direction, and Hermione frowned as a green mist erupted from the healer's wand, settling over Severus and glowing in a range from green to red. The darkest, crimson so dark it appeared black, seemed to adhere to his Dark Mark like cling film. "The sooner the better," Penny said, "but under no circumstances later than midnight."

Hermione sucked in her breath.

"There are things I must see to," Severus said, and would've left had the others not blocked his exit. "Move," he said angrily. "I must start the regenerative elixir, and ..."

"I can brew it," Penny said, and pointed toward the sofa.

"I will assist, if necessary," Lucius volunteered, then he looked at Hermione who had remained silent. "Miss Granger? I recall that you were the top of every class. Are you not going to volunteer?"

Hermione flushed. "I was an excellent student, although my potions making skills aren't more than adequate. I can certainly prepare ingredients, but Penny's a much better choice for brewing."

Lucius cocked his head skeptically, and Hermione was rewarded by a small smile from Severus. "So modest," Severus commented as he moved to where Penny had pointed.

"Not really," she replied. "I just grew up."

"How refreshingly honest," Lucius said in an entirely different tone of voice than his friend's, and then he and Severus engaged in a silent communication. "Yes, yes, I concede." Lucius tossed his hair over his shoulder and crossed to one of the occasional chairs, instinctively choosing the more masculine of the two. "If you will proceed with your – whatever it was you were going to do when I interrupted you, Miss Granger, I will then speak with Ayman about acquiring another bed for the infirmary."

Severus gritted his teeth, but said nothing, and he glared at Hermione. "Let's get on with it."

"Fine."

"Wait!" Penny said. "What are you going to do, Hermione? I'd like to know so I can monitor its effects, if any, on the curse and its progression."

"I've spent some time researching Memory Charms and while the attack on Severus is recent, I want to see whether I can reverse what's been done to him. We need to know what riddle has so stymied three – er –" she blushed and glanced at Severus in apology, "...four – intelligent, highly competent wizards."

"All right," Penny agreed, and she sat on the sofa, next to Severus, and summoned a Dictation Quill and scroll of parchment from her room. "I want this recorded properly."

Hermione grinned. "You remind me of Poppy Pomfrey."

Severus practically growled, but settled into his seat.

"Penny, will you cast the diagnostic spell that revealed the Memory Charm?"

"All right." Penny suited action to words, and sparks shot from her wand, circling Severus' head until, one by one the sparks burst, forming runic symbols before they dissipated entirely. "They were never that clear with Bill, and entirely undetectable in Cormac and Draco."

"I've learned an obscure Revealing Spell which should prolong the manifestation of its results." Hermione settled on the small coffee table in front of Severus, facing him. "Ready?"

He nodded; his posture rigid. Hermione swished her wand, and within a minute, runes identical to those which had so recently dissipated hovered several inches above Severus' head. They were clearer and shone more brightly than those resulting from Penny's spell.

"No. That's not right," Hermione said, shaking her head.

"What isn't?" Lucius asked, his pale eyes reading the runes as easily as copperplate script.

"Algiz, Eihwaz, and Perthro are the foundations of Memory Charms." There was a questioning note in Penny's statement.

"True," Hermione replied, "but have you ever seen Gebo used before?"

Penny said, "I've never had the need to examine them closely, so I don't know."

"To my knowledge, this is entirely non-standard." Hermione trailed off, deep in thought. Vaguely, she listened to Lucius and Penny discuss why Algiz was so commonly used for Memory Charms.

The runes hovered above Severus, resembling nothing more than a glowing crown. The standard three represented hidden things and enlightenment, defense and protection. Hermione ignored those, however, and focused on the unusual addition of Gebo. Not that she was an expert, but she had consulted with many before she'd grown resigned to her parents' fate.

In this instance, Gebo's positioning was ambiguous, but Hermione thought it lay in opposition to the rest of the runes. If that were the case, then the gifts of sacrifice and generosity which were the rune's basic meaning had been twisted into something darker, perhaps over-sacrifice or loneliness or privation. Translating runes was a lot like curse-breaking, she thought. Much depended upon the circumstances.

"The presence of an anomalous rune is certainly daunting," Lucius added to the discussion, drawing Hermione's attention.

"Why?" Penny asked. "What does it mean?"

"A challenge," Severus commented wryly.

"This whole bloody thing's a challenge," Penny said, suddenly, her own anxiety and fear rising to the surface and clearly expressed on her face.

"My dear, we will not let it defeat our efforts," Lucius said very gently, and patted her on the shoulder like a benevolent uncle. Penny flashed him a grateful smile.

Bemused by the interaction, Hermione didn't reply to Penny's question, but when Severus cleared his throat it spurred her to answer. "It's unclear whether the rune lies in opposition, and I can't tell whether its presence is deliberately misleading or included as a warning against tampering."

"If it's a warning, then isn't it dangerous to look further?" Penny asked.

"It's more dangerous to abandon our efforts, especially now," Hermione replied, fingering the smooth wood of her wand. "If there are no direct contra-indications, Penny, I need to examine Bill, and it would help if I could see the others as well."

Penny cast several diagnostic spells on Severus, including the clinging mist. There appeared to have been no change from before Hermione's spell.

"Mr. Malfoy?" Hermione asked, looking at the blond. For an instant, she saw beyond his façade, to the fear he held in check. She said very gently, "I don't believe it will injure Draco, or Bill or Cormac further."

"Do you know it won't?" he asked.

"Not absolutely, but from what we've just seen, and Penny's supposition that Severus' Withering Curse is worse than the others because of its location, it stands to reason none of the others will be negatively impacted as a result of my revealing spell."

Severus snorted. "Negatively impacted? Good gods, Hermione, it's no wonder you've never gone into the healing arts. You have an atrocious bedside manner. Just tell him Draco won't be hurt as a result of the diagnostic charm."

She scowled at Severus, and Lucius asked, "Is that true? He won't be hurt?"

"If she says she believes not, Lucius, and I am patently unharmed," Severus said, "the risk is negligible."

"It's not your son!"

"No, but this..."Severus raised his left forearm so all could see the raised black tattoo, pulsing with malignance, "...is my life. I've only recently got it back and I'd rather not have given it in vain."

Hermione bounced to her feet, standing between Severus' parted knees. She looked at him, hoping her expression was unreadable. "Let's go. We haven't much time, and I need all the information I can get. Penny?"

"Let me dress. I agree to your examining Cormac. I want him back. And I want him back whole."

Lucius rose to his feet, stiff and unbending. "No more than I want my son restored to me."

Hermione replied to Lucius, but stared at Severus. "I need to know the riddle so we can find its answer before confronting the sphinx, and I don't want anyone else to suffer –" Unexpectedly, tears caught in her throat, and her eyes filled.

"No!" Severus exclaimed. "No maudlin displays, Hermione. I beg you!"

She sniffed, and laughed, but it was a sickly sort of laugh, and entirely lacking in mirth. "All right. No maudlin displays, but you will do as you're told."

He rose to his feet as she side-stepped to allow him room. He towered over her. "I must begin that potion."

"But no more confronting sphinxes on your own. Anyone might get the wrong idea."

Lucius asked, "And what idea might that be?"

"That he has a saving people sort of thing."

Lucius's laughter was short and sharp. "Isn't that what people say about Potter?"

Severus sneered and stalked to the entrance to the tent. "I will be in my office." He glared universally at the three and slipped into the morning beyond canvas walls.

~o0o~

End-note/Riddle Solutions:

(1) Another Tolkien riddle from The Hobbit; its answer is 'the wind'.

(2) The answer is, of course, 'a candle'. I found this riddle at azkidsnet.com

(3) It's a 'river'. I found multiple versions of this riddle on the internet, including the Riddle Poem Page and jokelibrary.com, but I've adapted it slightly for my own use.