Chapter Two

AN: Lariope, thank you for all your hard work in making this story better.

A week later the golden girl was frowning at a piece of parchment. She'd received it anonymously the day before, and while anonymous tips had paid off in the past, this one...in her opinion...was not the most promising.

"You keep frowning like that and you'll have tons of wrinkles before your time, Mione," Ron said as he heaved a hip up on the corner of her desk. "At least that's what Padma's always telling Parvati when she's fretting over something one of the kids has done."

"Ron, you know I hate being called Mione; why do you insist on using it?" Hermione asked and added, "Get your arse off my desk; it's not a chair."

Ron flashed a wicked grin and continued to sit on the corner of her desk. "I call you Mione 'cause you are, and I sit on the desk to annoy you, of course. You need some shaking up between the endless research on your book and the day-to-day grind; otherwise you'll end up as dusty as the files in this office," he said with an all-encompassing wave of his arms.

"My files are not dusty, Ronald Weasley," Hermione said and then huffed before holding out the parchment for him to see. "What do you think of this?"

Ron took the parchment and read it aloud. "Strange goings on at Spider's End. Wonder what secrets they intend to buy."

Hermione shook her head. "It's not Spider's End, it's Spinner's End and bury, not buy."

The area of skin between Ron's eyebrows became crinkled as he studied the words on the parchment. "Ah, I see. Say... isn't that Snape's old house?" he asked as he handed it back to Hermione.

"Yes, it is and there's a developer buying up all the property in the area. Supposedly, he wants to renovate and renew the blighted area," Hermione said and looked at the back side of the parchment again. "I can't find any connection to any witch or wizard. Everything points to it being a Muggle developer with entirely Muggle plans for the area."

"You want Harry and me to check it out for you?" he asked.

"No," Hermione said with a shake of her head. "It would be a waste of time, I'm sure, and I really don't want the Auror department involved with something that's probably the figment of someone's paranoid imagination."

Ron yawned and stretched. "Ya never know, Mione. Snape's whatchamacallit never would let us look the place over."

"His solicitor?" she asked.

"Naw, that person who's appointed by the deceased party to make sure their wishes are carried out."

"Executor," she stated and then asked, "Why not?"

"Some cousin of Snape's inherited and wouldn't allow it."

"Professor Snape had a cousin?" Hermione asked with a surprised expression on her face. She stood up and batted Ron on the arm. "And you never thought to tell me?"

"Oww! What was that for?" Ron asked while he rubbed at the spot.

"Oh, let me think," Hermione said and placed a finger on her chin. She pretended to gaze off into the distance as if trying to remember something. After giving a theatrical sigh, she dropped her hand and glared at Ron. "You knew I've been trying to get any sort of information on Professor Snape about the years before he went to Hogwarts, and you didn't tell me about a cousin!"

"Well, it's not like I know the bloke's name or anything, Mione," Ron said before he slid off her desk and headed for the door. "Hell, I don't even know if it's a bloke!"

"Wait!"

"Why, so you can hit the other arm?" Ron asked with his hand on the door.

"No, and I'm really sorry about that, Ron," Hermione said as she came around the side of her desk. "Who is the executor for Snape's estate?"

"Horn-something," Ron answered while opening the door.

"You don't remember?" Hermione asked with a note of exasperation in her voice as her hands flew to rest on her hips.

"That was years ago, Mione. You're lucky I remembered the Horn part," Ron sassed back with a cheeky grin. "We'll see you on the fifth for Little Ron's birthday party, right?"

"Yes, you will. Now go away so I can get back to work," Hermione said. She shook her head and headed back toward the business side of the desk as the door closed behind Ron. She didn't pause at the desk, but instead pulled open one of the drawers in a massive filing cabinet that was positioned directly behind her work area. Flipping through the files, she found the one she wanted, snatched it out of the drawer and sat back down in her chair.

"Eileen Prince," she muttered while running a finger down a list of names and then across the page. "No mention of a brother or sister. She had a cousin, but he supposedly died without issue. Unless a child was born on the wrong side of the blanket, that's a dead end." Scribbling furiously on a piece of parchment, Hermione sighed and closed the file before rubbing her forehead. "Now, who do I know in the Muggle world that will help me research the Snape line?" she mumbled. Hermione started flipping through an old-fashioned Rolodex, and silence reigned in the office for several minutes while she examined every contact she had. "Damn." The softly muttered expletive broke the stillness, and the Rolodex was shoved back to the edge of her desk.

Hermione's eyes became glazed as she gently chewed on the inside of her lower lip. She remained almost motionless for approximately fifteen minutes when suddenly her eyebrows rose and her eyes widened. Searching thorough the papers on her desk, she picked up the anonymous note, read it again, and nodded her head slowly. This time when she stared off into the distance, her eyes were slightly narrowed and her lip was no longer in danger as her jaw was quite firm. If one of the boys had been there, they would have recognized the look immediately. She was plotting and planning how to do something that probably shouldn't be done, but would be if the witch in the chair had any say in the matter.

**********

Lucius almost hurried into the Manor on the following afternoon. The expression on his face conveyed an intense excitement, and he wasted no time in tossing his traveling cloak over the head of an elf that had the misfortune to be standing near. The noise his heeled boots made on the marble floors was of a quicker tempo than that which normally echoed off the walls, which explained the concerned looks exchanged by the elves working at various tasks along his route. They could be forgiven for this, as the only other time they had heard their Master's pace increase beyond its normal gentlemanly stroll was when the Dark Lord had taken over the Manor.

Their heads popped out of doorways as he passed, and one older elf sighed and remarked, "Mistress is going to be unhappy that Nasty Snake Person is coming back."

A younger-looking elf nodded its head and added, "We be needing to put the breakables away. Nasty Snake Person made Mistress cry in the before when favorites were used for practice spell making."

Completely oblivious to the hasty plans his elves were making, Lucius continued on the search for his house guest. When Severus wasn't located in the bedroom assigned to him, Lucius turned sharply on his heel and headed for the conservatory, which was in the other wing. By the time he'd located Severus, in the rear study, all of the elves in the Manor were busy packing away the many valuable antiques that belonged to the Malfoys.

"Is we be needing to worry about the books?" A frilled-ear elf asked a stoop-shouldered elf as it carefully packed away the last of the leaded crystal and then shrank the box.

Stoop-shouldered elf shook its head and said, "Master, in the before, is leaving all precious books packed away so Stupids don't find them when they is searching without Master's permission." Stoop-shouldered elf snapped its fingers, and all of the shrunken boxes that had been packed disappeared. After carefully checking all the small nooks and crannies, both elves left the room and headed toward another.

"She's taken the bait," Lucius announced as he walked into the study.

Severus looked up from the book he'd been reading and uncrossed his legs. Leaning forward, he placed a marker in the volume and placed it gently on the side table next to the chair he was sitting in. "Has she now?" he questioned as he removed a pair of reading glasses and slipped them into a vest pocket. "What bait?"

Lucius sent Snape a slightly exasperated look while reaching into the drinks cupboard for a glass. "The anonymous note that I ordered be sent to her, of course." He frowned at the object in his hand and held it up to the light. "Severus, have you been pilfering the crystal and replacing it with this rubbish?"

Severus snorted and said, "Hardly. Several of your elves swept through and cleaned the lot out, along with the various dust collectors. I figured it was one of Narcissa's annual or semi-annual cleaning binges."

"Ah," Lucius muttered as he picked up a plain glass decanter and poured a measure of scotch. "Probably is, but I've never seen her replace them with anything this common before. Odd, that."

"Yes, well, as fascinating as all this is, might we move on from the housekeeping details?" Severus asked drolly. "I agreed to follow your advice, not listen to the day-to-day trials and tribulations of running a household."

A house-elf chose that moment to scurry into the room, bowing and scraping the entire way. "Snicker is begging the Master's pardon, but Mistress is sending Snicker to find Master for Mistress."

After taking a sip of his scotch, Lucius frowned slightly and asked, "What does she want?"

"Snicker is not knowing, Master. Mistress is being very upset," the elf replied, wringing its hands and wilting a trifle more.

Lucius downed the rest of his scotch, pulled some pieces of parchment out of one of his pockets and said, "Here's what's what with our little project. I'll be back shortly. I hope."

Severus took the papers from the outstretched hand of the other wizard. He then watched with no small degree of amusement as Lucius straightened his shoulders and prepared for whatever had upset Narcissa this time. "Where is she?" Lucius asked the elf as they exited the door. The elf's answer, whatever it was, didn't have the power to reach Severus' ears, but Lucius' puzzled response did. "What in Merlin's name could she be doing in there? We have no formal dinners planned this week."

Quickly losing interest in the domestic troubles of his oldest friend, Severus unfolded the papers and started to read. "The cheeky little witch," he muttered before a screech of outrage caused his head to jerk toward the open door. It had sounded like a woman's voice, and as far as he knew, Narcissa was the only female in residence, but he had never known her to shriek like a charwoman, let alone raise her voice.

Rising, he moved toward the open door and managed to hear Lucius say, "Narcissa, you're being unreasonable. I am not planning on leaving you nor am I dumping you on the street! I love you, my darling, and I haven't a blasted clue why the elves are packing everything up!"

"Interesting," Severus muttered as he paused just inside the study door in an effort to hear more. All he heard were Narcissa's sobs and Lucius yelling for Enrique. Enrique, it should be noted, was the Malfoy's head elf who oversaw all that the others did or didn't do. The level of conversation from the formal dining room continued with a buzz, but it wasn't quite loud enough for Severus to hear the details. He shrugged and headed off in the opposite direction, sure that at some point Lucius would enlighten him.

While strolling along the hallway, one of Snape's brows rose at an angle that any of his students would have recognized. Lucius had done a magnificent job of keeping a tail on Miss Granger, and events were proceeding more quickly than either of them had foreseen. He paused, turned, and headed directly for the bedroom he'd been using at the Manor. Once there, he hurriedly packed a small bag with a few necessities and shrank it before slipping it into a pocket. After leaving a short note for Lucius, he quickly left the Malfoy estate. Outside the high fenced-in area, he cast a Disillusionment Charm on himself before he twisted and Apparated into the alley behind Spinner's End.

Severus pulled his wand and began checking the various wards still intact upon his childhood home. He found the ones put up by Hornworthy, but he also found a few placed there by the Aurors. Nothing too drastic, and surprisingly enough, nothing keyed to himself. Apparently they'd been convinced, even without a body, that he was actually dead. Moving closer, he walked into the tool shed at the rear of the small yard and accessed a passage hidden underneath the warped flooring. He'd made it a lifetime ago to answer the Dark Lord's call without alerting his parents.

The steps down into the darkness were narrow and steep. Severus cursed lightly when he found he had to turn sideways at one point to avoid knocking his head on the edge of the floor. "Don't remember this being so annoyingly small," he muttered while reaching up to close the door after him. A Lumos revealed a cramped passageway filled with small webs and dust. He paused for a moment, decided to take the chance that spells cast "underground" wouldn't trigger a Ministry ward, and reinforced the ceiling and walls before clearing out the webs.

He soon found himself in his old boyhood bedroom and winced when he saw the disarray. Hornworthy hadn't allowed the Aurors to search the house, but it was obvious that someone had gone through his belongings. A short tour of the house revealed it had been completely tossed, but he could find nothing obviously missing. A few short waves of his wand put objects back in the proper place, and a few layers of dust...to perpetrate the illusion that nothing had been disturbed for eight long years...were added.

Severus, satisfied that it would pass, nodded his head and moved toward the cellar entrance. He walked briskly over to one of the brick walls, counted down and over from the corner, and pressed one of the bricks with his wand. A passage appeared, and from the sill he could see that no one had disturbed this repository of books. A small smirk appeared, and he breathed easier. After closing the passage, he bounded back upstairs, straightened his vest, and chose a small book of verse to read while he waited for the curious Miss Granger to appear.

"Perfect," he muttered as he sat down in a chair and put on his reading glasses.

The Spider and the Fly by Mary Howitt

"Will you walk into my parlour?" said the Spider to the Fly,

'Tis the prettiest little parlour that ever you did spy;

The way into my parlour is up a winding stair,

And I've a many curious things to shew when you are there."

"Oh no, no," said the little Fly, "to ask me is in vain,

For who goes up your winding stair can ne'er come down again."

"I'm sure you must be weary, dear, with soaring up so high;

Will you rest upon my little bed?" said the Spider to the Fly.

"There are pretty curtains drawn around; the sheets are fine and thin,

And if you like to rest awhile, I'll snugly tuck you in!"

"Oh no, no," said the little Fly, "for I've often heard it said,

They never, never wake again, who sleep upon your bed!"

Said the cunning Spider to the Fly, "Dear friend what can I do,

To prove the warm affection I've always felt for you?

I have within my pantry, good store of all that's nice;

I'm sure you're very welcome...will you please to take a slice?"

"Oh no, no," said the little Fly, "kind Sir, that cannot be,

I've heard what's in your pantry, and I do not wish to see!"

"Sweet creature!" said the Spider, "you're witty and you're wise,

How handsome are your gauzy wings, how brilliant are your eyes!

I've a little looking-glass upon my parlour shelf,

If you'll step in one moment, dear, you shall behold yourself."

"I thank you, gentle sir," she said, "for what you're pleased to say,

And bidding you good morning now, I'll call another day."

The Spider turned him round about, and went into his den,

For well he knew the silly Fly would soon come back again:

So he wove a subtle web, in a little corner sly,

And set his table ready, to dine upon the Fly.

Then he came out to his door again, and merrily did sing,

"Come hither, hither, pretty Fly, with the pearl and silver wing;

Your robes are green and purple...there's a crest upon your head;

Your eyes are like the diamond bright, but mine are dull as lead!"

Alas, alas! How very soon this silly little Fly,

Hearing his wily, flattering words, came slowly flitting by;

With buzzing wings she hung aloft, then near and nearer drew,

Thinking only of her brilliant eyes, and green and purple hue...

Thinking only of her crested head...poor foolish thing! At last,

Up jumped the cunning Spider, and fiercely held her fast.

He dragged her up his winding stair, into his dismal den,

Within his little parlour...but she ne'er came out again!

And now dear little children, who may this story read,

To idle, silly flattering words, I pray you ne'er give heed:

Unto an evil counsellor, close heart and ear and eye,

And take a lesson from this tale, of the Spider and the Fly.

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