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 2

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters belong to JKR. All situations are mine. No $$$ is being made from this fanfic.
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Chapter 2 ~ The Last Wishes of Severus Snape

“Miss Granger, so good of you to come on such short notice. I only received the missive from Professor Snape’s solicitor this morning. It is a letter concerning his last wishes. He left instructions that if he were not to return in six months, that we could rightfully assume he would never return at all. I’m afraid, as far as we know, Severus Snape is dead, killed at the Final Battle,” Albus said, his eyes sad.

Hermione felt her heart plummet. She had been hoping beyond hope that the Professor would return. After their final parting, she had so many questions she needed answered. It was obvious that the wizard harbored feeling for her she had never known about. She would have liked to have explored the possibilities with him. She had known him since a child, and he had served as teacher and protector her entire time at Hogwarts, and when she returned to the staff as a Spells Mistress three years later, he surprisingly treated her with courtesy, and as an equal. His dismissive and derisive treatment of her younger years had all disappeared. She had never suspected he felt anything else for her. If she had known, she would probably have returned his interest. But now he was gone, and she would never know what could have been between them.

The ring on Hermione’s finger seemed to pulse and grow warm. She looked down at it, and felt strangely comforted. She traced the small serpents. Snape left her something with which to remember him, and with his kiss, let her know that he felt something more for her than the respect of a fellow teacher. She looked up at Albus.

“What were his wishes, Albus?” she asked him.

Albus cocked his head and looked at her strangely.

It appears that he had a last request concerning you, Miss Granger. He would like you to deliver something to his ancestral home. Something rather precious and lay it to rest in his family vault.

“Me? Why me?” Hermione asked.

“According to his missive, only one pure of heart and purpose may deliver it. And there is another requirement…though I hesitate to ask about such a delicate personal matter. These times are much more…er…free than in my time, Miss Granger and you are now twenty-three, correct?” he asked her gently.

“Yes sir,” Hermione replied, “but please Headmaster, tell me the other requirement.”

Albus looked at her. “The deliverer of this item must be pure of body as well. A virgin.”

Hermione blushed. She qualified. She just never had time for a relationship, with school and then her position at Hogwarts. And she had never found anyone who struck her fancy, besides the dark Potions Master. And he never knew of her interest. Well, at least she thought he didn’t. Perhaps he had.

“Where is his ancestral home?” she asked the Headmaster.

“Well, that is the strange part of this, Miss Granger. He doesn’t say. He only says that you have something in your possession that will lead you there. He doesn’t identify what that is. Do you have anything that fits that description?” the Headmaster asked.

“I have his ring,” Hermione said, holding her hand out to show the Headmaster. He examined it closely, then looked up at her, his brow furrowed.

“Where did you get this ring, Miss Granger?” he asked her.

“The Professor gave it to me at the Final Battle, the last time I saw him. He saved my life with it. It is a port key,” she said, “He said to keep it with me.”

She said nothing about how he said it would protect her. For some reason she didn’t want the Headmaster or anyone else to know.

“It is much more than that, Miss Granger. This ring is many centuries years old, a Snape family heirloom said to contain powerful magic. It has not been off the hand of a Snape in over two thousand years. I am amazed he gave it to you as there are other Snapes to whom it could pass,” the Headmaster said, frowning. “If they knew you had it, they would come to claim it, despite Severus’ wishes that you have it. They are a dark group. Very dark. Severus would have nothing to do with them.”

Hermione always assumed Professor Snape was alone in the world, without family. Knowing he had relatives was quite a revelation. But he had meant for her to have the ring, and she would keep it. Relatives notwithstanding.

“There is more about this, Miss Granger,” Albus said. “You would be required to travel alone, and be wandless. You would in essence be traveling as a muggle.”

Hermione considered this. She was muggle-born so would not be put out by such a requirement. She knew how to survive non-magically. A pureblood wizard would be lost as a kitten if placed in such a situation. Hermione thought about this. The Professor was certainly asking a lot of her. Why her? His relatives could probably take the item. But then again, he didn’t deal with them. There was probably bad blood between them.

“Headmaster, if I took this journey, how would I survive? I have no idea how long it would take, and I don’t have much money.”

“The missive says that all you need will be provided for you. And as for money, that is no longer a problem for you. It seems the Potions Master has transferred his residuals to you, as well as given you his library and all his research on potions he was developing. Obviously he hoped you would continue his work at some time. You did minor in potions, did you not?”

“Yes sir,” Hermione said in a small voice. This was unreal.

“His solicitor has set up an account into which the residuals are deposited monthly. You already have quite a bit of money. Enough that you do not have to work if you don’t want to,” Albus said, handing her a piece of parchment. Hermione read it. It was an account statement from Gringott’s with her name on it. Her eyes went wide when she read the amount of galleons the account contained.

“All this in six months?” she breathed. Albus nodded. Hermione felt as if she would faint. Albus looked at her, alarmed.

“Are you all right, Miss Granger?” he asked her.

The room stopped spinning. Hermione looked at the Headmaster dazedly.

“I’m fine, sir,” she said as her head cleared.

“Where is the item I would have to deliver?” she asked Albus.

“Apparently, somewhere in his private rooms. I imagine the ring would help you locate it, if you choose to fulfill the Potions Master’s last wishes. It is quite a tall order. It would be understandable if you declined. After all, you have no idea where you are going, and you will be relatively defenseless without your magic. It seems a daunting task,” he said softly, looking at her soberly over his half-moon glasses.

“I will have to think about it,” Hermione said, her brow furrowed.

“Of course,” Albus said. “Severus’ private rooms have been attuned to your magical signature, Miss Granger. Since we hoped he would return, nothing in it has been touched. It remains as it was before he left us,” Albus said. The old wizard’s eyes glistened. He missed the Potions Master greatly.

“You can enter them at will,” the Headmaster continued, “but preferably after class hours. Our substitute Potions Mistress utilizes the office then, and you must use it to access Severus’ rooms.”

“Yes sir,” she said, “Is there anything else?”

“No, that is about it, Miss Granger,” Albus said, duplicating the solicitor’s parchment and handing her a copy. Then he started as if remembering something.

“Oh, there is one more thing, Miss Granger. It seems Severus has also left you his familiar. A raven. His name is Raucous.”

Oh no. Not that bloody bird. Hermione wondered if Raucous knew he now belonged to her. He was a smart bird…if irritating. If he did, he probably laid an egg while having birdy conniptions. Hermione and the raven never got along. Whenever Hermione was in his presence and distracted, the bird would swoop at her and shit on her shoulder, then fly to the highest ceiling joist and caw in raucous birdy laughter. He had remarkable aim. Well, that little hobby would definitely stop. Now she could hex him. She grinned a bit wickedly.

She rose and said good-bye to the Headmaster and headed for her lab, looking over the missive thoughtfully.

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In another part of the world, far from Hogwarts and Hermione’s situation, a pale, dark-haired young man sat in a luxurious sitting room, his head bent to a lyre, plucking each string and tightening it. His black eyes closed in concentration as he listened, trying to find the perfect pitch of each note. Finally, he strummed it, and gave a slight smile of satisfaction. He sat up straight and began to play a beautiful, if melancholy tune.

As he played, a beautiful woman swept into the room gracefully, and walked behind the chair in which the young man was playing, her ebony eyes focused on his pale hands as they plucked the strings almost lovingly. She was tall, and willowy, with silken raven locks that fell to her hips. Her alabaster skin was flawless, her lips full and sensual. Her nose was slightly aquiline. She had the bearing of royalty. She was dressed in a black gown, her long fingers tapped the back of the chair idly as she listened to the last dying strains of the song. Silence fell. She clapped.

“Very nice, Vivaldi,” she said as the young man turned in the chair to look up at her

“Sister, I didn’t know you were standing there,” he said, “You heard my new composition then?”

“Yes, and it is quite lovely, brother,” she said, walking around the chair and running her finger over his cheek then under his chin slowly. The young wizard’s eyes went abnormally hot at her touch.

“Thank you, Venoma,” he breathed.

She kissed him lightly on the mouth, then walked over to the sofa and sat down, crossing her long legs.

Her brother looked at her, his black eyes sweeping over her form. He looked appreciative.

“Vivaldi, it’s rumored that Severus is dead,” she said.

“Our cousin?” the young wizard asked, interested.

“Yes. The one who was a teacher of some type at that wizarding school. How degrading to the name of Snape,” she sneered. “Teaching peons and mudbloods.”

Venoma shuddered with distaste.

“Do you think it’s true, sister?” Vivaldi asked, idly caressing his lyre as he looked at her.

The witch looked consideringly. “I don’t know, Vivaldi. No body has been found, and no attempt has been made to deliver what must be delivered.

“And what of the ring?” the wizard asked, his black eyes glittering, “where do you suppose that is? We should have it now, if he is dead. We are family, after all.”

“You’d never know it by the way he treated us. No doubt that blackguard has placed it in another’s care for safekeeping. But the delivery cannot be made without the ring. We must watch for strangers. Watch the tomb. Try to waylay them and claim what is rightfully ours before his or her mission is completed,” she said, her eyes narrowed.

“But the ring…the ring may not…” he said nervously.

The witch turned dark, dangerous eyes on the wizard, who blanched.

“Don’t worry about that, brother. The ring will not work at full power for anyone outside of the Snape family. Nor will it work for a wearer…that is dead,” she replied.

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A/N: This is shaping up to be more of an action/adventure mystery type story. There might not be any lemons until the end of it, but I will try to keep it interesting. Will work in some sex. Introducing new characters, Vivaldi and Venoma Snape. Seems like the brother is kind of sweet on his sister too. Brrr. Ok…this story is writing itself, so stay with me. Please review.

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