The Burning Pen

The Ring

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 17

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters belong to JKR. All situations are mine. No $$$ is being made from this fanfic.
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Chapter 17 ~ Almost There

Finally, Venoma could stand it no longer. She pressed her slim fingers to her temples.

“Ozmadias, come to me! Now!” she thought angrily, sending the thought to the familiar.

Ozmadias woke with a start. His mistress had summoned him, and she sounded pissed. The bird looked down toward the campsite to see the witch and the raven gone. Damn, they had left while he slept. Ozmadias hesitated. He had to go to Venoma. She would not be pleased with what he had to show her. The great bird, then leapt off the mountainside and flapped strongly upward, heading for the Manor. He didn’t rush.

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Hermione and Raucous were making good time. They were halfway up the mountain and the way was clear. Professor Snape had been right. Hermione’s lack of magic was giving her easy passage. The trees trembled a bit as she passed but did not reach out their limbs to grab her. The stones did not trigger avalanches, and the path itself did not swallow her when she passed over the magically triggered traps. The witch hiked up the mountain at a good clip, passing Grog’s cave with no idea that the ogre ever existed.

Raucous flew ahead, his beady eyes pealed for the great bird. He saw no sign of it. Hopefully it was still sleeping back by the campsite. Unfortunately, he didn’t see the hawk watching him from a shadowed crag in the side of the mountain. This was a wild bird with only one thought, food. The hawk dropped out of the crag and soared silently behind Raucous, talons extended.

Luckily, Hermione saw the hawk drop and screamed, “Raucous, a hawk! Fly for the trees!”

The raven didn’t even look back but headed straight for the trees, the hawk in deadly pursuit. The raven dove into a tangle of branches and hopped through them, heading for an even denser clump several meters away. The hawk tried to follow unsuccessfully and let out a screech of frustration, and took to the air. It hovered about a bit, Raucous peering up at it from between the branches, spewing a slew of cawing birdie obscenities. Hermione stopped under the tree and coaxed the angry, frightened raven down to her shoulder. The hawk flew overhead, but did not attempt to attack Raucous again, because of the presence of the witch. Eventually the hawk left, deciding to look for a meal elsewhere.

As Hermione continued up the trail, Raucous sent her images showing the hawk being killed in a number of nasty ways, the most heroic being Raucous running the hawk through with a fantastically lengthened and sharpened beak, then cawing victoriously, one claw firmly planted on its twitching body. Hermione laughed at this and told him he was a very brave bird. Raucous preened himself at the praise. He stayed on Hermione’s shoulder until dusk.

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Ozmadias arrived at Snape Manor and squeezed his feathered bulk into the windowsill. Venoma was waiting for him, and there was no smile on her face.

“Ozmadias, why did you not contact me? This is very important. What happened to the witch?” she asked the bird, frowning.

Ozmadias sent her images of the charging unicorns being turned by Raucous, and of Grog fleeing the campsite. Venoma was livid and very concerned about the glow that had surrounded Hermione’s tent.

“This is impossible. She is not a Snape. How could the guardian manifest to protect her? It cannot be invoked by one who is not a member of our family. Something is very wrong here. Very strange and very wrong,” she said, pacing the setting room.

Vivaldi entered, and knew immediately something was wrong by the angry way Venoma was striding back and forth across the room, her black gown swishing in her wake. He watched her for a moment before he spoke.

“Sister, what’s wrong?” he asked her.

Venoma looked at him, her black eyes blazing with rage.

“What’s wrong? What’s wrong? The witch still lives, that’s what’s wrong. The mountain’s protections have failed to work against her, and she escaped Sewell and Grog,” Venoma spat. She turned to Ozmadias.

“Where is she now, Ozmadias?” she asked the bird. He had been afraid of this. He sent her an image of the abandoned campsite.

“Where did she go? How did you lose her?” Venoma demanded, her fists clenched. She was trembling slightly.

Ozmadias sent an image of himself sleeping. It was unfair of Venoma to expect him to stay awake a full day. He had to sleep after all.

“You fucking featherbrain!” Venoma screeched, lifting her hands to blast the bird. Ozmadias closed his eyes. Vivaldi ran to the window and grasped his sister’s hands, stopping her from using her power. He wasn’t particularly crazy about Ozmadias, but he was useful, and needed for deliveries and messages as well as spying.

“Venoma! No! Are you mad? We need Ozmadias! Calm down!” the wizard said, holding her hands tightly.

Venoma looked at him with such hatred in her eyes that the wizard quailed. The witch seemed to realize that she was showing her true colors, and quickly calmed, her eyes hooded.

“I’m sorry brother. This situation has me on edge. I didn’t mean it,” she said, her eyes beginning to glisten with unshed tears. She fell into Vivaldi’s arms, pressing herself against him as she did so. The wizard held his sister, relishing his arms around her slim body, her breasts pressed against him. He made sure there was no contact below his waist. Her effect on him would be too obvious. He smoothed his hand over her silky hair.

“It’s all right, Venoma,” he purred comfortingly, “You’re under a lot of strain. If she makes it to the top of the mountain, we will handle her. Don’t worry,” he said.

Venoma pulled back from him.

“But Vivaldi…the guardian manifested for her!” Venoma said.

Vivaldi was stunned. The guardian only manifested for members of the Snape family. How could it show up for the witch? He looked at Ozmadias.

“The bird saw the guardian?” he asked, his eyes curious.

“No, it was too dark. But he saw the glow around the witch’s tent. It protected her from Grog,” Venoma replied, displeasure etched in her beautiful face.

Vivaldi frowned.

“It will be hard to stop her if the guardian is protecting her, Venoma,” he said.

He wanted the ring, but it would do him no good if he were dead. Vivaldi was quite sensible when it came to situations like this. Life good, death bad. Very simple really.

“Perhaps we should just let her complete her mission and go,” he suggested.

Venoma looked at him in horror, then disdain.

“You coward. You would let her take what belongs to us and leave here unmolested? You have no backbone. You aren’t a man, you’re a sniveling little boy,” she spat at him, her eyes narrowed.

Vivaldi’s nostrils flared. Venoma had never spoken to him like this. Before he knew what he was doing he had grabbed Venoma’s wrist and twisted her arm behind her back painfully.

“Don’t you EVER call me a coward, or a boy, Venoma. I am very much a man, and the Master of this house! Just because I allow you to run the Manor as you wish does not give you the right to demean me. I can have you beaten, flogged within an inch of your wretched life. You too are subject to my will, sister. Do not mistake my kindness for weakness. I am a Snape and will not hesitate to punish my own, if necessary. Don’t ever disrespect me again. Do you understand me?” he hissed against her ear, pressing against her with his body. He made sure as well that she felt his erection, though he made no mention of forcing her.

Venoma was frightened. She had never seen this side of Vivaldi. She didn’t know the wizard contained so much anger or brutality.

“Yes, Vivaldi, I understand,” she whispered. He let her go and spun her to face him.

“I hope you don’t plan retribution, Venoma. Any attempt on my life will be dealt with harshly and quickly,” he said, looking into her black eyes with his own stony gaze. “And I know you want the ring for yourself, sister. It will never happen. If we acquire it, it will be placed on my finger, and passed on to my heirs. If you try to secure it, I will look upon such an act as a personal attack and act accordingly.”

Venoma looked at the wizard. She had badly underestimated him. She had assumed she had Vivaldi wrapped around her finger by keeping him panting after her. Apparently, lust wasn’t enough to keep the Snape genes at bay. The wizard was as cruel and wicked as any of his forebears. He had his own agenda and she had never recognized it. She had no doubt he would do something terrible to her if she stepped out of line. She looked at Vivaldi with a new respect. Now he was acting like a true Lord of the Manor. It was a bit of a turn-on.

“Yes, my Lord,” she said softly.

Vivaldi looked at her. It was the first time his half-sister had acknowledged his title. It empowered him. He gave her a smirk, then his eyes swept over her slowly.

Ozmadias watched the exchange. He was grateful to Vivaldi for stopping Venoma. If she blasted him, there was a good chance she would have killed him. She might not have given him a full blast, but he would have been stunned and fallen from the window. He probably would not have been able to recover quick enough to right himself and fly. He might have been dashed against the mountain.

“Send the bird back down to watch the witch’s progress. Tell him to return either when she reaches the top of the mountain or when the mountain takes her,” Vivaldi instructed his sister. Ozmadias understood him, but Vivaldi respected the familiar/master arrangement and did not order him directly. Venoma repeated the instructions to the bird, then hugged him around the neck. Ozmadias took it stiffly.

“I’m sorry my pet,” Venoma said, stroking his crest.

Ozmadias remained aloof. She had almost blasted him. He needed time to re-establish trust, if he ever would. Venoma seemed to sense this, and pulled back from the bird, her dark eyes sad. She really was sorry. She had that undisciplined Snape temperament and had acted before she thought.

“Go, my pet,” she said shortly.

Ozmadias dropped out the window and flew off strongly. Now only Venoma and Vivaldi remained in the setting room. The wizard looked at her, aware of his new status in her eyes. He should have twisted her arm long ago. It seemed she responded to strength, rather than adoration.

“You have angered me greatly, Venoma,’ he said, his eyes cold now.

Venoma lowered her eyes.

“I am sorry, my Lord,” she responded.

Vivaldi looked at her, wondering if he dared. He did.

“How sorry are you, sister?” he breathed, his black eyes glittering hotly at her.

Venoma looked at him, calculating her situation in her mind. The balance of power had changed. Her half-brother had asserted his lordship of the Manor, and her place as his subject. She had lost power, and in her mind, favor. There was only one way she could get it back.

Venoma wrapped her arms around her half-brother, pressed her body tight against his and gave him a very unsisterly kiss.

“Very sorry,” she said, her eyes liquid. “How can I make it up to you my Lord?”

Vivaldi stared at her a moment, the taste of her still on his lips, her curves molded to his body. The wizard partially turned and waved his hand at the setting room door, closing and locking it.

“I am sure you will find a way, sister” he said..

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Ozmadias circled high overhead and found Hermione quickly. She was almost at the top of the mountain. He settled high on a crag, knowing the black bird was watching for him. He didn’t want to tip his wing. He would stay awake the entire night. He didn’t want to go through that experience with his mistress again.

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Hermione had made good time and was more than three quarters of the way up the mountain. She could just make out Snape Manor. The domicile seemed to built mostly of stone, but part of it seemed to be actually carved into the side of the mountain. The Professor’s estranged family lived there. Hermione did not intend to meet them but find the ancestral tomb directly. It would be better to get permission, but she felt since she had the ring, there would most likely be a confrontation. She wanted to avoid that. She had a feeling these Snapes would not hesitate to use magic on her to retrieve the ring.

She wished she had a disillusionment spell. It would certainly come in handy right about now. Then she could access the tomb without being seen. She sighed. Wishful thinking was not going to make this any easier. Dusk was falling, and she began to look for a place to camp. She was very tired. The air was thinning and she wasn’t used to it. She wished she had thought to ask Flitwick for a charm to counteract the effect. Again wishing wasn’t going to help anything.

Hermione located a spot that would do, again near some trees and quickly set up camp. After making a fire, and preparing her tent by putting the warming stone and her sleeping bag inside, she and Raucous shared some of the jerky she had packed for the journey, then she turned in early. Tomorrow she would be completing her journey and wanted an early start in the morning. Raucous again took shelter in the boughs of a nearby tree. Both fell asleep quickly.

Several skinny wolves skulked along the path below Hermione’s camp. Their fur was matted and their yellow eyes sharp with hunger. One particularly bony wolf snuffled the path, catching Hermione’s scent. He growled, drawing the other wolves, which also sniffed about. They looked at each other, then ascended the mountain path, following the trail. They weren’t sure what it is they were tracking but they were interested. It had been hard hunting lately with the unicorns on guard. The wolves primarily hunted the goats on the mountain, but the unicorns had been attacking them with regularity, driving them to lower ground, where the hunting was terrible. Only small rodents lived at the base of the mountain. They couldn’t catch enough to fill their bellies.

It was difficult creeping back up the mountain undetected. Unicorns had an amazing sense of smell. They had to proceed at night, when the herd slept and hide in caves during the day. The animals were starved. Whatever creature left this scent, if they could find it and it wasn’t a predator itself, they would bring it down.

It was a matter of survival.

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A/N: Well, Vivaldi asserted himself all right. Sorry. I couldn’t bring myself to do an incest lemon. You’ll have to use your imaginations if you even want to visualize it. Brrr. But the Snapes are sort of like royalty. Incest was pretty common among royalty. So it’s squicky, but follows a kind of logic, at least in my twisted little mind. Vivaldi would probably marry a cousin
if he could access one. Without the ring he can’t however, because of Mu’s restrictions. His half-sister is the only female Snape available. Raucous had a rather close call, and now the wolves are going to be at Hermione’s door, or flap actually. She’s almost reached the tomb, she should arrive next chapter. Not sure what Vivaldi will do. He likes life. Please review.

A/N/N: Am off line. Drove to a friend’s house to upload this. Updates will be slow from now on, at least until I can get my phone back on. So be patient and keep reading.

Cath: Thank you very much***

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