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 21

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters belong to JKR. All situations are mine. No $$$ is being made from this fanfic.
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Chapter 21 ~ The Resurrection

Hermione stopped as she passed through the doors, then returned to her pack outside and retrieved her flashlight. She again passed through the doors, Raucous on her shoulder. The open entrance allowed some light to enter into the tomb. The air was stale, though fresh air was entering slowly. Hermione felt a sense of disquiet as she entered the tomb. The main chamber was circular, and opposite the entryway there were doors carved into the bedrock that led to tunnels that wound throughout the mountain forming a great labyrinth. To the right was a chamber that contained stone benches and a large stone table. The tattered remains of cushions rested on the benches. The walls themselves had strange writing all over them, and images similar to hieroglyphics. Serpents were featured prominently in the drawings, many with wings.

In the center of the chamber was a raised circular dais of stone. Carved into the sides of it were images of serpents and skulls. It was to this dais and the object that floated freely above it that Hermione’s eyes were drawn. At first it appeared to be a glowing blue orb, the same hue as the blue light that emitted from the ring. Hermione drew closer and saw it wasn’t an orb, but a multifaceted blue crystal. She could feel waves of powerful energy flowing off it, and began to back away when the box in her hand gave a furious pulse and seemed to pull toward the crystal.

Raucous felt the pulse of power and flew from Hermione’s shoulder. He glided to the chamber room and stood on one of the stone benches, observing her silently, his beady eyes fixed on the box in her hand.

Hermione drew the box back to test if it was indeed moving toward the crystal. It was. Hermione inched forward and placed the box on the dais. The moment she let it go, the pulsating box slid by itself across the stone and centered itself beneath the glowing gem.

In the void, Snape was watching the scene unfold before him, Hermione standing before the dais colored blue by the crystal, watching the black box pulsing beneath the gem. It wouldn’t be long now. His heart was pounding and the Potions Master was beginning to feel a powerful pressure around his body.

Hermione stared at the box pulsing beneath the crystal. Suddenly the ring heated up, and a beam of blue light shot from it, hitting the onyx box. The cube began to ripple and flow, the corners melting into smoothness, the top hollowing out, revealing something pale in the interior. Hermione watched as the box became a small bowl containing what looked like ash. The ring’s beam ceased, and the band pulsed on her finger tightly, hurting her. She looked down at it, and the “S” shaped stone twisted open, revealing a small cavity behind it. Inside the cavity was a crimson liquid. Hermione carefully raised the ring to her nose, and smelled the slight metallic scent of fresh blood.

“Pour the blood on the ashes, Hermione,” Snape breathed, watching the witch. She was smart enough to figure this out. “The blood is the life, pour it on the ashes. The ashes, Hermione.”

The ashes.

Hermione looked around sharply. She had distinctly heard a silken voice say “the ashes.” It sounded like the Professor’s voice. Hermione looked at the blood inside the ring and made the connection. She carefully removed the ring and leaned over the dais, reaching for the bowl. She tipped the ring so the few precious drops of blood fell directly on the ash. Suddenly the ring flew out of her hand and rotated over the bowl beneath the crystal. Hermione watched as a stream of light no wider than a finger passed from the bottom of the gem, through the ring and into the bowl of ash and blood. A low hum began as the light connected with the ash.

Snape felt a tremor pass through him, then a great burning pain washed over him, golden light erupting from his body. The Potions Master writhed and screamed in agony, his voice echoing through the void impossibly loud, shaking the stars from the sky. They began to fall, streaking downward as he contorted, spinning in place as the golden flames flared outward. The spell he had cast to kill himself and Voldemort was reversing. Whereas he had felt little pain when he died, because it was a quick burst that reduced him instantly to ash, he now experienced the full force of the spell. Snape was dimly aware through his haze of pain of a powerful downward pull, the space around him fading to grayness as he fell like a blazing star himself.

Hermione watched as the bowl and the ring both lifted and floated past her, then settled on the stone floor before the dais, pulsing. She heard a great roar and looked upward, covering her ears against the noise and watched fascinated as a swirling mist appeared above the objects. It spun faster and faster, flattening into a disk. A dot of darkness appeared in the center and slowly spread. Hermione realized the dot was actually a hole that was opening wider and wider until the disk was gone and all the remained was an opening, floating in space. She could see what looked like falling stars as she looked up into the rift. Suddenly a streak of golden light fell through the hole, funneling through the ring and into the bowl of ash. Once again the bowl began to undulate, shifting shape, this time the gray ash forming a cylinder that expanded into a tall, thin, pale column, the blackness of the bowl flowing upward with partially covering it.

The column widened, then split partially up its length. Two tendrils erupted from the sides of it. The blackness of the bowl immediately covered these extremities, and flowed partially over the top of the column, which was quickly swelling like a balloon. Hermione thought it looked like a stick figure. Then she realized that the extremities were becoming defined, the ends of the tendrils splitting into five digits, the balloonish top developing angles, indentations and a large protuberance in the center. The black covering was separating into parts, the top becoming silken strands, long and flowing, the bottom staying in one piece, also long and flowing.

Hermione watched as the column transformed into the figure and visage of someone very familiar, someone she never dreamed she’d see in life again. The face was well defined now, the black hair flowing to the shoulders. A black robe draped the body, pale hands hanging loosely by its sides. The face was relaxed, the eyes closed. The hole above collapsed upon itself and disappeared, leaving Severus Snape standing in its wake.

Hermione stared at the reformed body of the Potions Master. The wizard stood there, his eyes closed. He was still as a statue, stiff and unmoving. Hermione took a cautious step toward him. Was this really Professor Snape or some kind of construct…maybe a golem?

“Professor?” she called to him, staying just out of arm’s reach. He didn’t respond.

“Professor!” she called louder. There was still no response, no sign of life. He was very pale…paler than usual. Actually, he looked dead on his feet.

Hermione took a deep breath and walked up to him, touching his hand. It was cold as ice. There was no life in the body. Hermione realized that what she had dreamed was actually the truth. That she had been sent to resurrect Severus, but it seemed although she brought his body back, she had not retrieved his soul. Her amber eyes filled with tears. She had come so close. Her lip trembled. She drew closer.

“I’m so sorry, Professor,” she breathed, tears starting to fall. She almost had him, almost brought him back. “I’ve failed you.” Hermione stood on her tiptoes and kissed the cold, pale cheek.

Suddenly the Professor gasped loudly, drawing air into his lungs, his gray, cold skin taking on color. Hermione gave a little shriek and stumbled back from him as his stiff body relaxed somewhat and his dark eyes opened. He was breathing heavily as if trying to draw in as much air as possible. Snape bent over slightly, placing his hands on his knees as he panted. He turned his head to look at her, still gasping slightly. Hermione noticed that the ring now rested on his finger.

“Well Miss Granger,” he panted, “I knew your kiss had an arousing effect on me. I just didn’t realize how much.”

Hermione just stared at him, her mouth open. She was too stunned to speak.

Snape straightened and felt himself all over.

“I seem to be all here,” he stated, his black eyes fixed on the witch.

He took a step toward her, and Hermione backed away from him as if he were a ghost. She was used to ghosts, but this was a bit much. This was a walking dead man. That was far more unnatural than a ghost.

Snape stopped, and scowled at her.

“Miss Granger, after all I’ve been through, this is not the reception I hoped to receive from you upon returning to the world of the living. Close your mouth. You look like a fish,” he said snarkily.

Hermione relaxed a bit upon hearing this. It was the Professor all right.

Raucous let out a joyous caw and flew to the Professor’s shoulder, preening his hair frantically between squawks.

“Hello, Raucous,” the Professor said, reaching up to stroke the bird’s feathers.

If Hermione had any doubts as to the reality of the wizard in front of her, Raucous’ reaction dispelled them. The bird would know its former Master anywhere. She found her voice.

“Professor. How?” she asked him. “How did you manage this? No one comes back from the dead.”

He looked at her and realized he had fallen back into the habit of addressing her formally. That wouldn't do...not after the intimacy they had shared. He corrected himself.

“Yes, that’s true Hermione, but I wasn’t dead. My life was in the blood, and sustained by the power of the ring. It acted as a stasis spell, suspending time and not allowing the blood to die as long as it was concealed inside the hollow. It kept me grounded to the corporeal world. As long as part of me lived, there was hope I could return.”

He pointed at the glowing crystal.

“That,” he said, “Is a crystal from the land of Atlantis. It has the ability to restore any item placed under it to its original state, providing that it was functioning properly when it was destroyed. It cannot bring the dead back to life under normal circumstances, because the spirit of life is usually fully departed. When you added my living blood to the ash of my body, you gave it the component it needed to restore me. My ancestor placed the gem here in the tomb when it became a source of feuding and bloodshed between the families. The only one who could access the tomb and the crystal was a Snape wearing the ring.”

Hermione looked at him.

“But I’m not a Snape,” said Hermione, leveling her amber eyes at him steadily. She couldn’t believe he was really here. “Why did the ring work for me?”

The Professor smirked at her.

“The ring is an amazing instrument. It doesn’t operate in the realm of linear time. Past, present and future are all one to it,” he said obliquely.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean? Talk sense, Professor,” Hermione said, scowling at him.

Snape looked at her, his dark eyes intense as they swept over her. Hermione felt a small burst of warmth in her belly at the way his eyes seemed to devour her. The wizard met her gaze.

“What I am trying to say Hermione, is that while you aren’t a Snape presently…you will be,” he said, a low, rather possessive growl in his voice.

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A/N: I just had to go to my friend’s house again and put this chapter up. Well, he baaaaaaak! Lol. Quite an explanation for why the ring worked for her. Please review.

Alyssa: Girl, get out of my plot bunny warren!!! lol. Good figuring. :) I'm going to place rat traps in there next time.
 

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