The Burning Pen

Yuleride
by Ruth Solomon

The story content is adult in nature and can contain graphic sex and violence.  Those under the age of 18 are asked to leave this site immediately.  You are not welcome here.  The author is not responsible for those under-aged who view these works.

CHAPTER 38

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters belong to JKR. All situations are mine. No $$$ is being made from this fanfic.
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Chapter 38~ The Aab-e-Hayaat

“There is something alive in this chamber, Mr. Answany,” Snape said as they walked through the small corridor toward another dark doorway.

”Ah, yes, the severed limbs of those who displeased Thoth. I know the legend, Mr. Snape, but I doubt the truth of it. While the Elixir might extend the life of a living user, I highly doubt it would sustain the severed limbs of one. There are no bodily functions, no blood, no sustenance—" Anwar replied, shaking his head ruefully.

Snape didn’t say anything more. Anwar was a fool. This was magic they were dealing with, not biology. They entered another small chamber, perhaps ten feet by fifteen with a low, seamless ceiling. There were no hieroglyphs here. Only a small boulder with a warning written the face—and a very small bottle made of molten glass rested on top of it with a jeweled stopper shaped like the head of an Ibis. Inside the bottle was sparkling blue water. But the sparkling extended beyond the bottle, bright twinkles swirling around it.

”Ah! The Aab-e-Hayaat! It is here! Get it!” Anwar urged, staring at the bottle with hunger.

Snape’s black eyes shifted around the chamber, looking at the bare walls.

”Don’t you find it strange, Mr. Answany, that there are no protections here? No holes for spears or spikes, no grooves for sliding walls? I wouldn’t advise removing that bottle without further exploration. Something—quite nasty may occur.”

Anwar stared at the bottle, his eyes full of greed.

”You are too superstitious, Mr. Snape. One might accuse you of being one of our gullible natives if not for your appearance,” Anwar replied.

”You have to have seen the pillar of fire,” Snape said to the wizard.

”Pah. The ancients knew much about metallurgy and mixing chemicals. They could have used some concoction of ingredients to create that display. Magnesium flares brightly—“

”That was not magnesium,” Snape said in a low voice as Anwar took another step toward the hypnotic bottle. The water within seemed to have its own tide, rising and crashing against the glass like an enclosed ocean. Blue, so very blue and beautiful.

”Be silent, Snape! That display was designed to dazzle men who could be dazzled by bright lights in such a way, not modern men such as you and I. Or, at least I. There is no magic here, only this—the prize. My prize.”

Snape watched as Anwar closed the distance between himself and the boulder. Snape read the inscription written on it. It was the same inscription Hermione had read on the iron plate.

Not good. Nothing was ever this simple. He was going to die down here. As Anwar reached for the bottle, Snape grabbed his wrist.

”Don’t do it,” he hissed as Anwar pointed his wand at him and snatched his hand away. Snape stood there, unmoving, the tip of Anwar’s wand pressing into his chest.

”I never took you for a coward, Snape,” he snarled at the wizard.

“Discretion is the better part of valor,” Snape snarled back at him venomously. He hated being called a coward.

“I do this at my discretion,” Anwar said, picking up the bottle with his other hand.

Snape waited for all hell to break loose, but there was no ominous rumbling or grating noises. No doors opened up. Anwar beamed at him, lowering his wand.

”See? I told you there was nothing to fear-- blech!”

A thick layer of sand fell on top of them, some getting in Anwar’s mouth. Snape looked up, his black eyes widening in horror as he saw a pale squirming mass of limbs, torsos and decapitated heads, obviously held in place by the sheer amount of them. They wriggled and bulged downward toward them, some starting to work loose.

Snape tried to sprint by Anwar, but the wizard clutched him in terror as the squirming limbs tumbled down on top of both of them, writhing, grasping and pulling at them with great strength.

Snape wrested free of Anwar, but was covered in clutching hands, legs kicking at his feet and shins. He fought desperately and saw his wand sticking out of Anwar’s pocket, his vest torn away. He had to get it!

The hands already had the Egyptian’s wand and it was snapped in half as he screamed and gurgled, two sets of hands wrapped around his throat trying to throttle him. On the floor lay severed heads, unable to actively move, the eyes wide and blinking, the mouths moving horribly, unable to make anything other than mucousy, clicking sounds as their black tongues worked ineffectively. It was the most horrible sight Snape had ever seen as he fought to get to Anwar and his wand.

The mass of limbs spilled out through the corridor and the outer chamber. Apparently, the Unfaithful had been sealed in the ceiling, which was compacted sand. When the bottle was removed from the boulder, the sand was agitated and released. The rest was pure horror. A few flailing fingers caught hold of the rope and began to inch upward.

Snape tore a clutching hand from his face, deep scratches running from the corner of his eye and down his cheek, but it was Anwar who had the worst of it. It seemed they were attracted to him because he had the bottle. Snape managed to pull his wand out of Anwar’s pocket from the midst of the squirming melee, then kicked and fought his way to the far wall. Yes, all the limbs were converging on Anwar. Snape currently had a clear space. He stared with fascination at the scene before him, Anwar pulled into the mass of writhing limbs and covered for a moment.

Snape thought that might be the end of him, but it wasn’t. Suddenly, the limbs parted, showing a screaming Anwar spread out on the floor, held down by numerous, clutching hands, next to a head facing his way. The eyes of it were narrowed.

”Help me, Mr. Snape!” the terrified wizard cried.

”I can’t do that, Mr. Answany. I wouldn’t want to get in the way of your heritage,” Snape called back.

Snape saw the sparkling bottle clutched in the hand of a limb that was being transported by the others and watched in fascination horror as another arm inched over to Anwar, the fingers feeling his face and tapping on his lips. The horrible head next to him slowly smiled and the hand slid down and clutched Anwar’s throat, choking him so his mouth flew open.

It was then Snape realized that the limbs carrying the bottle and choking Anwar were right and left. More than likely they belonged to the maniacally grinning head looking toward the wizard. Another hand assisted by pulling out the Ibis-head stopper, and the Aab-e-Hayaat was poured down Anwar’s throat, then a gray hand clapped over his mouth to keep him from expelling the liquid.

It was gone.

Snape watched as the limbs closed back over Anwar again with grim purpose, and the renewed, agonizing screams rang out so loud they carried to the men and their prisoners above. Anwar was being physically torn apart by the limbs. He was to join them in their eternal torment.

“In Allah’s blessed name, what is that?” Abu said, standing up and looking toward the chamber, taking his eyes off of Hermione and Haruun. Abu looked as well. That was all Haruun was waiting for. He whipped out his wand. The two men didn’t know he was a wizard or that he had a wand.

”Stupefy!” Haruun snarled, hitting the seated Abu first, rendering him unconscious.

But Abdul had fast reflexes. He pulled out his knife and dove toward Hermione blade first.

Hermione screamed, and aided by adrenaline, rolled out of the way, Abdul driving the blade hilt deep into the camel’s flank. The camel let out a scream, stumbling to its feet and pulling out the torch, which swung and hit Abdul, knocking him aside before the camel ran away into the night, screaming in fear and pain. Hermione bolted for her fallen robes but Haruun hit Abdul with a stunner and knocked him unconscious as well. Then he stalked over to Abu, rolled him over, and stomped on his nuts as hard as he could.

”Take that, desert dog!” Haruun hissed as Hermione ran back over and cast good strong binding spells on both of them. She then ran to the chamber, half sliding down the slope.

“Severus! Severus, are you all right?” she screamed before looking down into the chamber and recoiling in horror as she saw all the writhing limbs and other body parts. Two dismembered arms were climbing up the rope inch by inch, using their fingers for leverage.

”Oh my gods, Severus—“ she breathed.

She didn’t want to cut the rope in case the wizard was trying to get out. But there were hundreds of grasping, writhing arms and legs. She was sure Mr. Answany had taken his wand. He would have had to. She stared down into the chamber, biting her lip, unsure of what to do. Going down there didn’t seem to be a good idea. She cast the Killing curse on one of the ascending arms to see if she could kill it. Nothing happened as it kept inching upward.

”Oh damn,” she breathed. Suddenly Haruun appeared beside her with a shovel.

”I’ll get it,” he hissed, hefting the shovel over his shoulder and waiting for the limb to climb high enough to be knocked back down.

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Snape winced as blood flowed over the limbs, turning them red as Anwar’s screams suddenly stopped short. A torn leg joint wrapped in a bloody brown trouser leg was tossed out of the heaving mound, falling aside and flexing as blood trickled out the ragged end, the bone showing, torn tendons and muscle exposed. Then Anwar’s head was tossed out, landing in front of Snape, the eyes turned on him and the mouth working as it lay in a pool of blood.

”A decapitated head can reason for about twenty seconds after being cleaved from the body, but in your case, Mr. Answany, I fear it will be much longer,” he said coldly

Then he heard it. A rumble. He looked down at his feet and saw water trickling from under the wall. And the limbs were now inching toward him. Suddenly a stone wall fell, blocking off the exit. Snape looked at the boulder again, reading the inscription.

”— May he be set upon by the unfaithful and consumed by Aab-e-Hayaat - the Dancing Water.”

Well, the unfaithful had certainly set upon the unfortunate Mr. Anwar Answany. This must be the ‘dancing water” portion of the curse. Snape cast a Disillusionment and Silencing spell on himself and Disapparated just as the wall he was leaning against exploded, water roaring through and filling the chamber.

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Severus had cast the spells with the intention of surprising Hermione’s and Haruun’s captors, but found them bound and unconscious on the ground.

”Severus! Severus!” Hermione’s anguished voice carried over to him. He removed the spells then walked to the edge of the hole, looking down just as Haruun swung the shovel and knocked the first ascending arm off the rope.

Snape arched an eyebrow as Hermione kept circling the hole, clearly in a state.

“Severus!” she called again, her voice tormented as Haruun swung at the second arm. It fell but managed to grab the edge of the shovel. Haruun tried to shake it off, but it hung on tightly. Finally, the boy threw the whole shovel into the hole.

”I’m going down, Haruun! I have to see if I can help Severus,” Hermione said. “Maybe I can clear a path through them—or maybe levitate them. Something. I can’t just leave him down there. He needs me!”

Haruun looked doubtful, but didn’t try to discourage her.

”I will come, too. I will beat them with the shovel,” the boy said staunchly.

“Haruun, up to this point, I’ve always believed you Slytherin-bound,” Snape said from the edge of the pit. Both Hermione and Haruun looked up in disbelief. “However, it seems close association with Hermione has rubbed some Gryffindor traits off on you, particularly their insane suicidal inclinations. It won’t be necessary for either of you to descend to your deaths. As you can see, I am fine.”

Both Haruun and Hermione ran up the slope and leaped on Snape, all of them falling into the sand as they held on to him.

”What—hey! Get off of me this instant!” Snape spluttered as they felt him all over, smiling and making sure he was in one piece. “I don’t appreciate being bum-rushed and tackled after my ordeal!”

“Oh, you’re injured,” Hermione said, sitting up and brushing his lank hair away from his face and seeing the deep scratches starting from under his eye.

”I am much better off than Mr. Answany,” Snape replied, trying to pry Haruun’s skinny arms from around his waist as the boy clutched him.

”What happened to him?” Hermione asked, getting up. Snape finally managed to get Haruun off of him. He stood up and brushed off his ripped robes.

”Let’s just say he went to pieces,” the wizard replied, letting Hermione take his hand and lead him over to one of the torches. She pulled out her wand and set about healing his wounds.

”What about the Elixir?” she asked. “Was it there? Did you get it?”

”It was there, but Mr. Answany got it first and then some. But I can attest that it does work. Mr. Answany is now among the immortals.”

Hermione finished healing his wounds and looked up at his dour face as he looked down at her.

”So we failed,” she said to him softly.

He shook his head.

”No, we didn’t. We found the elixir. We just didn’t manage to acquire it. I’m not sure we should have,” Snape replied quietly. “It was something not meant for men, Hermione. Still, the expedition wasn’t a total failure. We have honed our skills greatly and will be better prepared for the next mission—”

He studied her.

”—if there is to be a next mission for you, Hermione. Will there be?”

Haruun watched the couple, both of his eyebrows raised. Were they—was Hermione? Was Snape? By all the sands of Egypt—they loved each other!

Hermione must close her eyes when she kissed him.

”After all of this? The spies, the danger, the robberies, the slinking around?” she exclaimed. “Of course I’m going on the next mission. And the one after that and the one after that—but you have to swallow my costs since we didn’t get anything and I’m not going to make any money off of this.”

Snape frowned at her.

”Is that all you think about? Money?” he snapped bad-naturedly. He knew he had to take the loss, but she didn’t have to bring it up.

Hermione’s eyes darted to the stunned Haruun, then back to Snape a little naughtily.

”Well—it’s not all I think about,” she admitted.

One of Snape’s eyebrows rose as he looked at the witch. There was a bit of unfinished business between them, something to do with the stars of Egypt.

”Indeed,” he said shortly.

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A/N: Thanks for reading.

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