Four

Riddle Me This

By Bambu

Author's notes and disclaimers found in Chapter One.

Chapter Four

I defend without weapons,

Stand without legs,

I wound without force,

And am harder to fight than to kill(1)

She watched from behind the scintillating, magical barrier, gloating at her triumph. He had been so certain of his cleverness, this most recent man. And yet, the other had been equally clever, equally certain of victory. But none had discerned her secret.

With a deep-throated roar the guardian extended her wings to their full width, feathers brushing the sides of the antechamber, blue paint flaking off the sandstone, coating her wingtips.

She didn't care. She had gained ground.

Soon there would be more, and after a time, her domain would return to its former state. Hers alone. None, thus far, had proved worthy.

A cloud is my mother,

The wind my father, my son is the cool stream.

A rainbow is my bed,

The earth my final resting place, and I'm the torment of man.(2)

Draco looked so young, Hermione thought as she stood at his bedside in the infirmary. His blond hair had been swept off his face, feathering the pillow upon which his head rested. His chin wasn't nearly as pointy as it had been when they were children, and he had filled out since she'd last seen him manacled to the witness chair at his own Wizengamot hearing. For all that he'd been in a healing coma for months, he appeared merely asleep, and none of the wasting signs of long-term inactivity were yet apparent.

Despite their history, Hermione was not unmoved by his plight. She glanced at the man standing on the other side of the bed. He didn't seem to remember she was even present. Lucius' gaze was fixed on his son's face, and for once, his expression was naked. Grief etched deep lines around his eyes and mouth, and fear painted a too vivid picture. His hand rested on his son's arm, as if he hoped the connection were somehow helping Draco combat the destructive curse lying dormant in his body.

"I know how you feel." His head jerked up at Hermione's quiet comment, expression smoothing into the polite mask he had perfected over the years, but she was not fooled, not any longer. "The summer that Dumbledore died, I cast Memory Charms on my parents and sent them away from England."

Lucius' eyes widened in shock. "You altered their memories? You were – what – sixteen? How could you...?"

"I was eighteen and desperate to protect them. Little did I know that after six months the spell would become irreversible. I became an orphan in essence right before Christmas that year. I just didn't know it until after everything was over."

"So that's why Severus..."

"It's how we became friends actually. I was annoyingly persistent while he was in hospital, but afterward, Severus loaned me several books from his personal library. None could ..." She trailed off, blinking rapidly against the tears thoughts of her parents always seemed to call.

"I am sorry for your loss."

To Lucius' great credit, Hermione believed him. "Thank you. I won't let Draco be another casualty."

Lucius smiled tightly.

Drawing her wand, Hermione asked, "May I?"

He nodded, and she rotated the willow wand in an arcing loop, non-verbally casting the revealing charm. Nothing happened at first, and Lucius' shoulders sagged in disappointment. However, this had happened in each of Bill's and Cormac's case, so Hermione waited, maintaining the spell, letting its power develop. Perspiration dotted her brow with the effort she exerted.

After an endless minute, wisplike runes began to appear above Draco's head. They were too faint to be seen clearly. Instantly, Lucius snapped his wrist, ebony wand dropping onto his palm. A dark blue spark ignited at the wand's tip, gleaming off silver quillian and pommel at either end of the wand's hilt. The cobalt-colored spark separated from the wand and glowed brighter, backlighting the faint, smoky runes, making them easier to read.

"Thank you," Hermione said, noting the similarities between this casting and her earlier efforts. Algiz, Eihwaz and Perthro were expected. However, as with the others, a fourth rune appeared. "Is that Thurisaz?" she asked, squinting as if that would somehow make the vaguely distinct rune more readable.

Lucius leaned closer to the wispy runic representation. "Yes. I believe so."

Hermione bit her lower lip and cancelled her spell. She turned toward the small bedside table and added to a series of notes she'd compiled. "I have to see Severus."

"Aside from the pleasure of his company, why?"

"I need to tell him what I've seen here." She nodded toward Draco, indicating the rune reading. "And I want to cast the spell on Severus again."

Lucius stepped in front of her, as if questioning her reasoning. "Again, I ask why?"

"We don't have time to wait. Severus doesn't have the time."

"What do you mean?" he asked sharply, turning with her as she stepped past him and into the corridor.

"Haven't you seen him?" She turned her head to look at him, but didn't stop her forward momentum.

"Yes."

"Recently? Have you seen him in the last hour?"

Lucius raised a hand as if to stop her from walking away, but remembered the Stinging Hex incident earlier. Hermione noticed and paused. "The entire Dark Mark has changed since this morning."

"Damnation!"

"Penny wants to induce the healing coma now, but he keeps putting it off. The last time I saw him Severus agreed to complete the first stage of the restorative elixir and leave the rest to her, but he refused to go into stasis until I told him the results of my examination."

"What are the results?"

"Come with me, but don't interfere. I will talk to you once he's safe."

Lucius' long legs allowed him to keep pace, but Hermione's anxiety fueled her speed. When they entered the subterranean forecourt, they paused to stare at the glittering, pulsing barricade holding back the ghost sphinx.

Lucius said softly, "You care for him."

"I told you we were friends." Hermione strode toward Severus' office as if ignoring his comment, but before she stepped into the potions lab and office, she turned to face the blond. "Yes, I care for him. Perhaps even more than you."

Hectic activity greeted her entrance. Penny was thinly slicing lotus root as Severus lectured to her, and at the far end of the workbench, Ayman and his assistant poured over the papyrus under glass, interrupting Severus' lecture with questions as they attempted to correlate the hieroglyphs with Severus' theories.

All activity halted with Hermione and Lucius' entrance, but only for a moment, and then Ayman called out, "Are you certain it requires a cauldron of precious metal?"

Severus frowned, but nodded curtly as he added four dried berries to the gold cauldron he leaned over. Steam rose from the cauldron, swirling about his head, and Hermione noted that his hair was lanker and oilier than ever.

"Only four haws?" Penny asked.

"From this source, yes." Severus frowned suddenly, and Hermione watched his Adam's Apple bob in his throat. "Should it be necessary to find another source of thornapple, I suggest using five haws for the initial batch."

Penny paused, her knife poised above the lotus root on her cutting board. "I hope that won't be necessary."

He nodded curtly, and stirred the potion with a wooden spoon. Hermione suspected it might be hawthorn to enhance the use of the berries. "Severus," she said, "I need to recast the revealing charm."

"Not now, Hermione." He frowned at her while reaching for another ingredient, a powder she didn't recognize.

"If not now, when?"

Something in her tone caught his attention and he looked up. "As soon as I'm done here. Fifteen minutes?"

Penny interrupted. "As soon as you're done here, Severus Snape, you are going straight to the infirmary."

"There's too much to be done."

"Severus." Penny's tone was a clear warning.

He glanced at the magical hourglass on the bench, time-telling sand falling in a steady stream. These sorts of hourglasses were quite common for use in potion-making. They resembled their Muggle counterparts, yet were capable of being set for several hours or even minutes at a time. In this case, it had been set to track Severus' final hours, and now there was far less sand in the top half than piled in the bottom. "I have another hour," he said. "I need all of it."

"I hope you'll give me at least fifteen minutes." Hermione ignored Penny's frown and pinched lips.

Severus removed the stirring rod from the cauldron and set it aside. "Is that all you'll need from me?"

Their eyes met and locked. "Not nearly," she said quietly, "but I'll make do."

Lucius stepped next to Penny and distracted her by asking, "How may I be of service?" She had finished the lotus root, and wiped her hands on a cloth tucked into her belt. Then she and Lucius crossed to the corner table where they sat and began to discuss ingredients and local suppliers.

Severus returned to his self-appointed task which left Hermione to her own devices. She settled at the end of the workbench nearest Severus, and picking up a glass stirring rod, she asked, "Will you need this?"

He flicked his eyes in her direction and shook his head while adding the powdered ingredient a pinch at a time and stirring the elixir with his left hand: twelve deosil stirs, and then three clockwise, before the next pinch of powder was incorporated.

Hermione transfigured the stirring rod into a tall stool, and then spread her parchment across the mustaba, anchoring it in place with another stirring rod in one corner and an empty vial in the other. On the parchment were her notes from the results of the revealing charms she'd performed on Severus, Bill, Cormac, and Draco. She had been able to elicit data from each examination, something which had left Penny frustrated until Severus had explained how Hermione had come by the rare and unusual charm.

That was when Penny had left the infirmary to accompany Severus to his lab. Hermione had remained behind to finish her examination. And now her notes puzzled her. There were constants in each case, but there were also distinct differences.

She created a small table, Algiz, Eihwaz and Perthro in one column, Isa, Gebo, Thurisaz and Jera in another. Next to Isa she wrote Cormac's name, and next to Gebo she wrote Severus'. She then added Draco to Thurisaz, and Bill's name was added last, next to Jera. Reversing the Memory Charm – which was fairly straight-forward, if archaic -- when she didn't yet understand the inclusion of the fourth rune could prove ill-advised.

"Why aren't these consistent?" Lucius asked, coming to stand at her shoulder and indicating the second column of runes.

Hermione had been working so intently she hadn't noticed him draw near, but for the first time, she didn't flinch at his approach. She replied, "I don't know yet."

"From our earlier discussion, Eihwaz, Perthro, and Algiz are standard. They clearly represent a shield and protection and hidden things..."

"And I suspect they're also an indication of warding off evil."

He firmed his mouth as he grew lost in thought, and Hermione sketched the four anomalous runes in their normal positions, then in merkstave and opposition, hoping for a clear read on the inclusion of Gebo. It was always difficult to tell whether it was a straightforward or an opposition casting.

"How do these..." Lucius pointed to the four oddities, "...affect your reversal of the Memory Charm?"

"Without understanding their relation to the charm, reversing it could be dangerous."

"In what way?"

She looked up at him and met his gray-eyed curiosity bluntly. "Permanent memory loss, or even worse, a complete mind-wipe."

"Fuck!"

"I won't take the chance with Severus, or anyone else. And we need to know what that riddle is."

"If there's a riddle."

"If it's a sphinx, there's a riddle."

"You're so certain?"

"Aren't you? Draco's research is impressively extensive, and he concluded it was a sphinx. There are anomalies, of course, but both Cormac and Bill seem to concur with Draco's initial conclusion. I've already sent an owl for some information about the anomalies, but from what we already know ... and demonstrably ... the sphinx is protecting something. It's proved an effective guardian of the library. It doesn't need to hide anything else –" she broke off, her eyes rising to the corner of the room as she chased a niggling thought. Beside her, Lucius turned his head as if to see what had drawn her attention, but she was lost in thought. The nebulous connection between theory and anomaly faded as she tried to pinpoint it. She shook her head in frustration and said, "There's a reason for the memory charm, and the most likely reason is to protect the riddle. I don't know why. I need to know what happened."

"Can you not use Legilimency? Severus is an expert."

"If the charm hadn't blocked-- No! Wait! What a brilliant idea!" She beamed at Lucius, and he seemed taken aback by her genuine enthusiasm. "Severus!" she called out. "I need more than fifteen minutes."

"I don't have them to spare."

"Penny?" Hermione asked.

"No, Hermione. If he waits longer than the next hour, we're taking an awful risk with his life."

"Severus," Hermione pleaded. "Lucius said something and it gave me an idea – I think it'll work."

He clenched his jaw, his nimble fingers wielding knife in fluid artistry. "What is your idea?"

"If I use a revealing spell on you while you Legilimize me, I might be able to see through the Memory Charm as if it were a window. It might not work..."

"Hermione, you're brilliant!" Penny exclaimed from the other end of the mustaba.

Hermione flushed. "Thanks, Penny. I've never particularly thought so. I used to tell Har...er – my friends it was all books and cleverness, but that's not it. I'm just highly motivated."

Severus sniggered, Lucius looked highly amused, and Penny asked, "Really?"

Hermione ignored the two men and talked to Penny. "From practically the moment I entered the wizarding world, I wanted to prove my right to be here. That desire changed fairly quickly, once I needed to help Harry, and my later efforts were all about keeping him alive."

Lucius's mirth had evaporated, and when he spoke he was entirely sincere. "Very few friendships inspire that sort of loyalty, Miss Granger."

"Harry's the brother I never had."

"And now?" he asked, curious and thoughtful at the same time.

"I beg your pardon?"

Lucius asked, "What motivates you now?"

Hermione looked away from his piercing, too-knowing eyes, but then she tilted her chin, and led from the heart. "Didn't you ever hear Dumbledore talk about the power of love?"

Severus' hand arrested mid-stir, but then continued as if he were focused only on his present task. Lucius sneered, and his words were etched in acid. "Dumbledore was a fool."

Hermione shook her head. "He wasn't a fool. Manipulative and ruthless, but not a fool."

Both eyebrows rose in surprise. "You weren't beguiled by his dotty charm?" Lucius asked.

"I was once..." Her glance flicked in Severus' direction. He was leaning over the cauldron, steam obscuring his expression.

It was Penny who asked, "What changed your mind?"

"He used me to delay our quest for the Horcruxes, did nothing to mitigate Ron's insecurities, and he manipulated Harry into believing there was no other solution than for him to die at Voldemort's hands." Severus and Lucius both flinched at her use of Tom Riddle's self-created name, but she continued, "We had agreed to do what was necessary, and while my respect for Dumbledore suffered an irrevocable blow for being used as a pawn, I didn't despise him until later. Until the war was over."

Severus had stopped stirring, and Penny had given up all pretext of measuring dried goldenseal. At the far end of the work-bench, Ayman and his assistant said nothing, but it was clear they were listening.

Penny opened her mouth to speak, but Lucius spoke first. "I confess to being more curious than ever. What turned your approbation into enmity?"

Hermione looked at Severus as she said, "Albus Dumbledore remorselessly condemned one of the bravest men I've ever known to death with his reputation in tatters..." and turned her attention to the blond wizard standing at her elbow, "...and sentenced a young man to suffer the agony of believing he had to commit murder to save his family when there were other options." Seeing Lucius' shocked expression, Hermione added, "Dumbledore also fostered an atmosphere of divisiveness at Hogwarts because of his blatant favoritism. No one is immutably defined by who they are at the age of eleven."

There was silence save for the liquid burbling in the cauldron. Hermione briefly regretted her outburst; she wondered whether Lucius would exploit what he might perceive as a weakness. However, Severus put down the hawthorn stirring rod, lowered the flame on the cauldron over which he had been toiling, and said, "So that is why you dislike House bias."

She almost laughed. "In part, yes."

"We aren't here to reorganize Hogwarts, although I'll grant it is time." Lucius pointed to Hermione's parchment. "What are we going to do about this?"

Hermione glanced at the small clock, and then up at Severus. He was staring at her, his expression carefully masked. "Will you try?" she asked.

He nodded curtly, and turned toward Penny. "The goldenseal isn't necessary at this stage. There is nothing to be done on the elixir until the haws steep for forty-eight hours. You've only to follow my exact instructions..."

"Of course I will," the healer replied. "I'll review my notes and compare them with the memory in Lucius' Pensieve. I've already compiled the list of your usual suppliers, and discussed the alternates with Lucius. I won't let the supplies run too low."

He smiled at her briefly before turning toward Hermione. "It appears I've freed up some time. How much do you need?"

"As much as you can spare," she replied. "What else do you have to do before ... er ... before?"

"A few personal details." He picked up a sealed scroll and handed it to her. "These are my instructions to Gringotts relating to my vault and any eventual disbursements."

Hermione dropped the scroll. "Severus!"

His jaw clenched. "Be realistic, Hermione. How long are you going to keep me – all of us – in stasis before –"

She was furious. "Don't you even think it, Severus Snape! We will sort this out. Won't we, Lucius?"

"If at all possible."

And it was Lucius' turn to suffer her glare. "It is possible. I - we will make it possible." Hermione's chest heaved and she exhaled suddenly, an explosion of air from her lungs. She picked up the scroll. "I will accept this as a representative of Gringotts, but I'm keeping it in my possession. Now, let's go."

She turned and stalked out of the room. Her steps faltered in the corridor and her voice filtered back as she called, "Well? Where are we going?"

A smile tugged at the corner of Severus' mouth, and Lucius smirked. The blond said blandly, "She really is a Gryffindor."

Severus chuckled. "I wouldn't say that in her presence; you heard what she thinks of the house system." He nodded at the others before exiting the room.

Lucius murmured, "Among other things," and he, too, followed his friend.

I am a wingless bird, flying even to the clouds of heaven

I give birth to tears of mourning in pupils that meet me,

And at one on my birth I am dissolved into air (3)

Hermione turned sideways on the sofa and faced Severus. "We could've done this in the infirmary."

He sneered. "Because it would be so much more comfortable there."

"No need to be sarcastic. I just don't know how long it will take and I wanted you to be at ease."

He closed his eyes slowly and sighed. "Nothing about this is easy."

"I know, but if this works – and it should – then it will have been worth it, don't you think?" He smiled tightly at her, and she blushed. "Merlin, that was insensitive. I'm sorry, Severus. I don't – damn it! You're right. Nothing about this is easy, and I'm wasting time. I just... Being a curse-breaker has its exciting and dangerous moments, but this just might put me off..."

Severus reached out and touched her shaking hand. "Stop stalling, Hermione."

"All right." She reached to the coffee table, nudged the plate of biscuits and fruit aside, and grabbed a tall glass. She quickly drank the iced hibiscus and ginseng tea. It was a favorite at the Muggle dig site, and was both refreshing and energizing. She replaced the empty glass and plucked her wand from the messy topknot she'd made of her hair. "I'm ready."

"What do you know about Legilimency?" he asked.

She smiled. "Beyond the textbook definition?"

His mouth curved in answering amusement. "How fortunate you've grown out of your childish mannerisms."

"I'll have you know..." she started to say in mock-outrage, but then huffed and desisted. "I know more about Occluding. We practiced a lot that year we were on the run, and even now, I often clear my mind at night before I go to sleep."

He pursed his lips before commenting. "It isn't an exact discipline, yet masters can discern truth from lies as a result of extracting the feelings and memories of their subject."

"Feelings?" she asked. "I hadn't realized."

"Afraid I'll learn what you really think of me?" he asked lightly.

Her answer was anything but frivolous. "I think you already know."

They stared at one another for several long seconds, and then he swallowed hard and raised his wand. "We cast simultaneously," he reminded her.

"All right." Hermione pointed her wand at him and counted down. "Three ... two ... one."

"Legilimens!"

Hermione's surroundings blurred to an invisible background as image after image, memory after memory, flickered across her mind. Fitting emotions battered at her psyche until the cascading images slowed, finally stopping on a memory familiar to both Hermione and Severus, whose presence she felt but could not see.

They were in the Dark Arts classroom during the only year he had taught her. The curtains were drawn and candlelight was the only illumination. Hermione's attention was avidly fixed on Severus as he paced along the edge of the room, speaking in a low, mesmerizing voice.

"The Dark Arts are many, varied, ever-changing, and eternal. Fighting them is like fighting a many-headed monster..." Admiration and interest were Hermione's foremost emotions mixed with excitement that here was a man who could teach them what they needed to know. "You are fighting that which is unfixed, mutating, indestructible. Your defenses must therefore be as flexible and inventive as the arts you seek to undo."

That memory faded into the next, to the moment Hermione watched Severus' body being levitated past her and into the Hogwarts infirmary where she was carrying a pile of clean bandages hours after Harry had defeated Voldemort. Her own injuries forgotten, she stood at the open doors -- shame, guilt, and relief vying for prominence within her as she stared past the rows of occupied beds, to the back of Hogwarts' infirmary where Poppy Pomfrey cried out and immediately began to work on her most recent patient. At the door, Hermione sobbed, crying for everything she had lost, and for the bittersweet victory they had won.

The next memory was a happier one. The New Forest, where Hermione and Mr. Ollivander harvested deadwood to replenish the raw materials required for his wand-making. A protective magical dome shimmered above a blanket dotted with the remains of a picnic. At the edge of the clearing, Hermione held a long branch for Mr. Ollivander to assess. The frail but stalwart wizard leaned forward to inspect the wood when an official owl swooped below the forest canopy to deliver a letter to Hermione. Her heart raced and her mouth was dry. She knew the letter bore her NEWT results.

"Go on, girl," Mr. Ollivander urged, "open it."

She gave him a shaky smile and with trembling fingers, Hermione broke the official seal, and pulled the results from the envelope.

"Well?" Mr. Ollivander asked after several moments.

Hermione's smile lit her face. "I passed all of them, and I raised my DADA score from an E!"

"Not an unexpected outcome after your lengthy sojourn in the forest," the elderly wand-maker commented dryly. "But you don't mention how many, my dear. How many NEWTs did you take?"

"Not as many as my OWLs but ..."

"And how many are not as many as your OWLs?"

"Nine," she replied, flushing, thrilled at her success.

"Bless my stars! Nine NEWTs. That's ... very good, my dear. Very good. And all Outstanding?"

"Except Magical Theory. I got an E..."

The memory whirled away, replaced by one of the tempestuous last day of her and Ron's relationship, but Hermione wasn't going to allow herself to wallow in that debacle any longer than necessary. She watched a furious Ron grab his broomstick from the dining table, his face the color of beetroot. He turned on her, yelling, "If that's how you feel, we're finished, Hermione."

She stared at the redhead and wondered if she had only ever admired the qualities he most downplayed, and then, why she had ever thought that would be enough. Sad, yet determined, she answered him, "Yes, Ron, we are."

The pictures hanging in her hall stressed their sticking charms to the very limits as Ron slammed the front door on his way out of her flat. Hermione flicked her wand and the front door swung open, and then slammed shut. "Good riddance!" she shouted before it had closed the second time.

And then, suddenly, the memory's image wavered, morphing to one more recent: to the day before when Severus had brewed the restorative elixir. Her heart raced as her attendant emotions soared, were defined, and Hermione mentally cringed at how easily Severus could read her feelings about him.

It took considerable determination for her to counter-cast her spell, but she finally seized control. "Clairvoyance!" she cried out.

She was sucked into Severus' memory as if it was her own and she was he. Briefly, Hermione wondered if it was how Legilimency felt to him. Rather than bounce from memory to memory dating throughout the course of his life, Severus' mind was more orderly than hers, or more practiced in guiding others through it. He had been able to focus on more recent times; in fact, his first shared memory was of the night before, and their disagreement.

It was odd to watch a moment she had lived from a different perspective. It reminded her of videos of her childhood. This, however, was different. Not only did she see the images, but she felt Severus' emotions. At the time, he was angry with Lucius and disappointed in her.

"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, and remembered saying, coolly. "Good night." Abruptly, she wrenched open the front door and slammed it behind her.

That much Hermione remembered, but then, watching the door close behind her, she felt an overwhelming sense of loss before Severus cursed viciously and slammed his fist into the wall, knocking a hole in the plasterboard.

Suddenly, Hermione was wrenched from that memory and vertigo twisted her senses, but then she was planted in the midst of the subterranean forecourt and a newer, fresher moment. But this memory was different from the others, as if she were looking through a foggy plate glass window on a rainy day.

A surge of exultation spiked through Hermione, and from her to Severus. Her spell had worked!

In the memory, Severus deftly dismantled the final spells maintaining the magical barricade at the head of the west hallway leading to the purported library. She felt his emotions, just as she had when he punched the wall. He was nervous, yet bolstered by a conviction that it was better him than her tackling this monster.

Severus took a deep breath and terminated the final spell-ward. The second the last layer of the barricade dissolved, a nine-foot-tall ghost sphinx bounded into the forecourt, confronting her jailor.

Hermione's heart raced in time with memory Severus'.

The sphinx was translucent, silvery and female. She wore a layered hairpiece comprising thick braids hanging to her shoulders with elaborate beads woven in a band, forming a sort of crown at her brow. Her face, neck and chest were nude and human in form, but the rest of her body was leonine, from the aggressively raised front paw to the tufted tail flicking in irritation. Unlike many classic sphinxes, however, this was not a cross between woman and lioness, but appeared closer to a cross between woman and gryphon, and like all gryphons, she bore a set of wings. With a snarl, revealing sharp incisors, the sphinx spread her wings to their full extension, covering half the width of the vast antechamber.

Severus stared at this awe-inspiring and rather terrifying specter as she arched her head back to roar her challenge and fury. Hermione could see Severus' wand in his hand, held in a defensive position, and she could feel the adrenaline coursing through him, dampening his palm where he gripped the hilt of his wand. It didn't matter that this creature was a ghost; she was imposing and he knew she was lethal.

When the sphinx lowered her head, she shouted at Severus. To his great consternation, he didn't understand a single word. Neither did Hermione.

The sphinx's face screwed up in frustration, and then she folded her wings and settled onto her haunches, effectively blocking the hallway leading to the library. Her cold smile let him know it was deliberate. She said something then, in a language Severus had never heard before. When it was obvious he didn't understand, the sphinx closed her eyes.

At that moment, a woman's voice broke into Severus' mind; it was heavily accented, but comprehensible. Hermione wasn't sure whether the language was English or pure thought, but it was remarkable ... magical.

The sphinx's voice held overtones of judgment. "You are trespassing, Tainted One."

"It is unavoidable," Severus replied, mentally forming the words with great care. "I seek a cure for the Withering Curse you have placed upon my friends and family."

The sphinx's expression changed to something unbearably smug. "They did not win the right to pass. If you wish to acquire the knowledge you seek, you must first win the right."

"Does this mean you have the knowledge I seek?"

"I do not." Hermione felt an agonizing shaft of disappointment spear through her, but then the sphinx spoke again, and Severus' hopes re-ignited. "I protect the knowledge you seek."

Severus stepped closer to the sphinx. "Then it seems I must pass, Winged One.

"You must answer my riddle correctly before you may pass."

"Will you tell me how many have been successful?" he asked.

The sphinx's answer was chilling. "Should you succeed, Tainted One, you will be first."

"Why do you call me Tainted One?" he asked.

She roared, teeth flashing like white smoke in the mage-light, and Severus' heart hammered in his chest.

"You test my patience." The sphinx practically snarled the telepathic words. "I have been tolerant enough. Answer my riddle correctly if you wish to know more."

"And if my answer is incorrect?"

"You suffer the same fate as those who came before." Her expectation of his failure was clearly evident in her bearing.

Severus bowed his head in acquiescence, and clenched his wand tighter. "I am ready," he thought a perfectly distinct mental declaration.

"Womanly features, yet my claws gouge mine enemy

Leonine in form, yet my wings carry me to safety."

Severus stared at her, and his reaction had been the same as Hermione's present thought, It can't be this easy.

"Will you tell me the other answers?" he asked.

The sphinx laughed, and it was entirely at his expense. "Answer the riddle. What am I?"

Severus paced, his mind whirling. After several minutes, he sat, cross-legged on the floor, his wand balanced on one knee and a finger tracing his lips as he considered his answer. He could think of three or four obvious choices, but which would it be. Was it a bluff or a counter-bluff?

"Time grows short, Tainted One. Have you an answer?"

He narrowed his eyes. "There's a time limit?"

"No answer is still an answer. You try my patience."

Severus rose to his feet, fluidly, as if he hadn't been sitting in one place for an hour. "There are a number of possibilities."

"Such is the beauty of a riddle, but there is only one correct answer. Which is yours?"

Hermione felt his trepidation as he considered. Then he spoke softly. "You are a ghost."

The sphinx's smile was feral. "You are as clever as the last, but alas, you have not answered correctly." She stood and padded toward him.

"The answer is true. You are a ghost."

"And I am Egyptian, as your predecessor guessed, and a sphinx as the simpleton before him tried. Nonetheless, you have failed and you will suffer the cost." She stretched her wings, settled back on her haunches and raked the air with her front paws. Glowing red slash marks tinted the air where her claws had been, coalescing to form a magical lightning-shaped bolt. A final jet of gold wrapped around the bolt, limning it in iridescent flame.

Severus back-pedaled toward the stairs, his wand already snapping into action. He set the magical barrier in place with an economy of movement that had Hermione mentally gasping in admiration. The sphinx screamed in fury, and charged the barrier, but she rebounded as the first scintillating motes of light began to flicker and the initial shield engaged.

Regrettably, the malevolent bolt of magic hurtled through the barricade before Severus's final flick of the wrist. Instinctively, he raised his left arm to ward off impact. In the next second, agonizing pain speared through him, beginning and ending at the Dark Mark burned into his forearm.

The memory went black, and Hermione was ejected from Severus' mind.

She gasped, and looked around at the daylight reality of the tent, at the dun colored cloth walls and the golden brown rug, and then coming to rest on Severus's harsh features. Abruptly, Hermione grabbed his left arm, pushing the sleeve to his elbow, revealing the pulsing, mutating Dark Mark. The skin was raised and hardened, like charred chicken left too long on a grill; the surrounding skin was reddened where blackened curse tendrils already encroached on the unblemished skin.

Hermione bent over his arm, and she couldn't stop her tears.

Severus' right hand touched her hair, and then gently, he cupped her face and raised her head. "Why are you crying? Didn't it work?"

"You – you didn't see it?"

"I felt you in the memory of last night. Beyond that, I knew we were linked, but –"

"Yes. Yes, it worked," she said, stuttering through her tears. "I saw the encounter, and heard the riddle, but I could strangle you for taking such a risk."

"It is the same one that you will take, although you now have more information."

His answer engaged her brain, and she sat up, drying her tears. When she smiled, it was as evil as the ghost sphinx's had been when she had thought Severus was at her mercy. "That's quite true. Severus, not only do I know what the riddle is, but I also know the answers Bill and Cormac used."

"She told me their responses?" Severus was gobsmacked. When Hermione nodded, he said, "No wonder she used a Memory Charm."

A chime rang throughout the tent, and while Hermione flinched, Severus grimaced. "It's time," he said irrelevantly. "Will you walk with me?"

"You needn't ask."

They rose from the sofa, ignoring the uneaten nibbles and pot of tea on the coffee table. As they left the tent, the flap magically pulling back to accommodate Severus' height, then falling into place once they'd passed, Hermione asked, "If you weren't watching the memory, what were you doing all that time?"

He gave her an intense, penetrating look. "Why were you crying over my arm?"

Heat rose in her cheeks, and she glanced at the green water of the sacred lake. "I hate that you're suffering. That you have to be put into a coma. I remember what being Petrified is like. Life passes by while you lie there like a statue. And when you come back, you don't know if your friends will still be friends; you don't know if the monsters who are killing people have–"

"Hermione, shhh. I know you. If there's a way to defeat this creature, you will find it." Severus halted on the bank of the Isheru where reeds grew almost as tall as his waist. It was an image burned into her memory.

"But..."

"Why were you really crying?"

Her chin trembled, but the bravery which was so intrinsically a part of her nature asserted itself. "I don't want to lose you!" Then she stammered, "I – I – I mean your -- our – our friendship. It's–"

She broke off when Severus cupped her cheek and placed his thumb over her mouth. "I do not particularly wish to be lost. And that is what I was thinking while you watched my encounter with the sphinx."

"That you don't want to be lost?"

He murmured, "That I, who have only just learned how much you care, might lose you, too." Slowly, carefully, in case she reacted negatively, he leaned toward her, and when she understood what he was about, she tipped forward onto the balls of her feet to meet his lips in a desperate, awakening kiss.

It was sheer heaven, until Lucius' drawl interrupted them. "When you've finished your last hurrah, Severus, Penny is pacing the infirmary counting the seconds until you submit to her tender mercies. I wonder if it's a mediwitch peculiarity."

The moment he'd spoken, Hermione had broken the kiss, but she and Severus stood resting their brows against one another's, panting as if they'd run a race. When Severus drew back and turned to look at Lucius, the blond had already retreated from sight. "If memory serves me correctly, Hermione, your last relationship began with an equally ill-advised kiss," he said, still staring at the place Lucius has been seconds before.

"Oh, please," Hermione scoffed. "I was a teenager driven by fear, friendship and hormones. I may have loved Ron, but I wasn't in love with him."

Severus's eyes met hers. "Do you mean that?"

"You're the Legilimens." She searched his expression for the emotion she hoped to find there. Then, greatly daring, she said, "You should know how I feel about you."

"Don't play with me, Hermione. I have never had anyone believe they were in love with me before."

Hermione drew him down toward her again. "I don't believe, Severus. I know."

She had a brief moment to see how delight altered his expression, but then he pulled her into his arms, and, regardless of whether they could be seen by Muggles, or any of the magical crew, or how inappropriate public displays of affection might be in Egypt, Severus kissed Hermione as if it was for the last time.

They were both breathing raggedly when they ended the kiss, and they linked their hands together as they strode up the hill. Before they took the stairs, Hermione said, "I'll try to wake you that way."

"Something to look forward to," he said as they disappeared from sight.

~o0o~

End-Notes:

Severus' speech about the Dark Arts, is quoted directly from Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, pages 177-178, of the American printing.

I shan't be giving you the solution to my ghost sphinx's riddle, as it is all mine. However, solutions to the other riddles found in the chapter are:

(1) This was among several clever riddles submitted to jokelibrary.com by a user named Gal'desh. The answer is 'a wall.'

(2) It is 'rain', and I found it on riddle.com.

(3) The answer to this riddle is 'smoke' and I found it on jokelibrary.com.