Disclaimer: All recognizable characters belong to JKR. All situations are mine. No $$$ is being made from this fanfic.
*******************************
Chapter 13 ~ Starting Out
Hermione awoke the next morning feeling refreshed. Raucous was bright-eyed and spread-tailed and cawed a loud greeting at the witch, hopping down on the bed and immediately beginning to preen her tangled hair. He caught a snag and Hermione let out a little shriek and waved him away. The raven fluttered back up to the headboard, but didn’t look nearly as penitent as he should. He then hopped on to the windowsill and let out another caw, presumably to go out. Hermione rolled out the bed and raised both shades, then opened one of the windows. Raucous took off.
“Be sure to be back here soon, Raucous!” she called after him, “we have to hit the mountain this morning.” A caw answered her. Hermione closed the window. Raucous could enter the inn through the front door on his return.
Hermione stretched, yawned and scratched, then headed for the small shower. This might be the last good wash she’d have in days, so she scrubbed up good, getting all the nooks and crannies. Her mind turned to the Professor as her hands moved over her body, and she slowed down a bit at the thought of the dream wizard kissing and pressing against her. She felt a small tingling between her legs, and worked to relieve it. She did, with a gasp.
A gasp that was almost matched to the moment by the voyeur Snape, who once again found himself watching her through the mist image. Just watching the water run between the cleft of her breasts, and over her thighs was almost overwhelming. The Potions Master had never expected to see the chaste Gryffindor witch masturbate. There were distinct advantages to being in a half-life state. But as Snape watched Hermione dry her delicious body, he dearly wished he were in the flesh, if only for a few moments. He hoped that she would get up the mountain quickly, and that his cousins would be caught unaware, since their spy was undoubtedly dead. The quicker she got there, the quicker he could leave this place and return to her. What a heated return that would be. As far as Snape was concerned, Hermione had already accepted him as a lover, and his first act, other than returning them to England, would be to consummate their relationship as quickly as possible. He had waited years.
Snape watched as Hermione dressed in layers. Very wise, the mountain could be cold at night. The weather was always temperate during the day, and there were no true winters in Mu, the climate control of the original continent still active and in place. It stayed at a relatively steady rate of twenty-one degrees Celsius during the day, but lowering slightly during the winter months. Whether the coldness of the mountain nights was a part of the protection, no one knew.
Hermione hoisted her pack onto her back and exited her room, locking the door. She would leave the key with Petra. She planned to have a hearty breakfast and set out on her way. She walked down the hallway and turned down the stairs. When she reached the main floor she noticed Petra behind the bar talking to three gray-haired gentlemen in hushed tones who were sitting on stools and drinking some steaming liquid out of cups. It didn’t smell like coffee. It had more of a woody aroma. Not unpleasant though.
Petra saw Hermione and said something to the men, who turned to look at her. They were older, rather dignified looking gentlemen. The fabric of their tunics and trousers were very fine. They nodded soberly at Hermione, who removed her pack and set it on the floor by the stairs and walked over to them. Petra came from behind the bar, and wiped her hands on her apron.
“Good morning, Hermione. These are three elders from our village council. I sent Peter for them this morning with a note telling what you said happened to you last night with Ketri. He was looked for by his home, but he was not there and no one has seen him this morning, which is unusual, because he is always out and about from morning until evening,” Petra said, looking sober.
Hermione nodded at the three elders, and they nodded back, their brown eyes taking in her features and strange clothing. All three sets of eyes dropped to the ring and widened.
“You spoke the truth, Petra,” one of the elders said. He held out his hand to Hermione.
“May I examine your ring?” he asked her. Hermione placed her hand in his, and the elder placed his face very close to her hand, studying the ring, turning her hand over to inspect the band. After a few moments, he released her hand and stared at her.
“This was given you by a Snape?” he asked her, his bushy gray brows drawn together.
“Yes sir,” Hermione answered.
“And you go up the mountain today?” he asked her, looking over at her pack.
“Yes sir, right after I eat,” Hermione responded.
Petra excused herself and rushed to the kitchen to prepare breakfast for the witch, leaving her alone with the elders.
Another elder spoke.
“You have been given a great power. Obviously you have a great quest to fulfill as well,” the elder said, “But we feel it our duty to tell you that no one who has ever started on that mountain path has ever returned. Whether they died or were taken into the Manor, we do not know. We advise you not to take this journey,” he said, looking at Hermione with a small scowl.
“I have been duly warned, sir. Twice.” Hermione said, remembering Petra also asking her not to go.
“There is a reason we ask that you do not go. The ring. It would be bad indeed if the Snapes regained it,” another elder said.
“They will not take it. It belongs to me,” Hermione said, a rather stubborn look on her face.
“It has long been rumored that Ketri worked for the Snapes as a spy, and an assassin on occasion, though we have no proof of that. This was our first lead to possibly proving Ketri a danger to our citizens. But we cannot find him. We think we never will,” the elder said, looking at the ring again. “But if he were indeed after your ring, then it is safe to say the Snapes are aware of your presence on Mu, and you are in grave danger. Again we ask that you not take this journey,” the second elder said.
Hermione looked at all three wizards.
“I am afraid I must do this. It is the last wish of a very great wizard. Not to do so would dishonor his memory. I hope you will not try to hinder me,” Hermione said, looking from one to the other.
“No, we would not. That is not our way,” the third elder sighed.
Petra came out of the back of the inn, carrying a plate of food and a steaming mug. Hermione looked over at her. The witch’s stomach growled audibly. The three wizards looked at her and waved her on.
“Go and eat your meal. We will pray to the gods for your success,” the first elder said. The three wizards left the inn as Hermione made her way over to the table and sat down. As if on cue, Raucous soared through the open door and alighted on the table next to Hermione’s plate, eyeing her food hungrily. Hermione looked at her plate. There were eggs, what appeared to be ham, and a large piece of the crusty bread she had yesterday. It smelled delicious.
“Thank you, Petra,” Hermione said.
Petra gave her a slight smile.
“I have packed some dried meat and bread for your journey,” she said, producing a small bag from her apron pocket and placing it on the table. “Though I wish you would not go.”
Peter ran in the front door and straight to Hermione’s table.
“Mama says you are going up the mountain, Hermione. Do not go! It is bad there. You won’t come back!” he said, his brown eyes glistening. Hermione reached out and ruffled the boy’s hair affectionately. He smelled of the ocean. He must have been on the beach.
“I will be fine, Peter. I have protection,” she said.
The boy narrowed his eyes at her.
“You have no magic. You can’t be safe,” he said accusingly.
“I have other things that will help me. Don’t worry. I will be back,” she said softly.
Peter stared at her a moment, a black scowl on his face. Then he ran to the back of the inn, clearly upset. Petra looked after him.
“Don’t mind, Peter. He likes you and Raucous. He doesn’t understand you have something important to do. He is afraid that you won’t come back, like his father didn’t come back,” Petra said softly, sitting down across from Hermione.
“Did he disappear on the mountain?” Hermione asked, her brow furrowed.
“No,” Petra replied, “He was trying to draw in his nets during a storm and his boat capsized, and was broken up against the rocks. His body was never found, but we believed the sea took him. Peter was four then. He would spend hours on the shore, looking for his father, waiting for him to return. One day he came home and told me his father was gone forever. His heart was broken. The idea of losing someone else he knows frightens him.”
“I will come back and show him I’m all right,” Hermione promised.
Petra smiled and patted her hand.
“I hope you do, Hermione,” the Lemurian said.
Raucous had made short work of Hermione’s ham and was busily devouring her eggs.
“Raucous, you selfish, greedy little thief!” Hermione scolded him. Raucous cawed at her and flew to the bar with her crusty bread.
Petra laughed. “Don’t worry. I will bring you more, Hermione. It seems Raucous expected his own meal after yesterday.”
Raucous stopped eating the bread long enough to caw in agreement, then continued pecking, tearing and devouring his ill-gotten gains.
Petra returned with another plate of food, which Hermione wrapped one arm protectively around as she ate, observed by Raucous from the bar. It was clear that as far as his mistress was concerned, he had eaten his fill.
Breakfast done, Hermione walked over to her pack, hoisted it on her back and handed a sad-faced Petra the key to her room. Petra kissed her on both cheeks, and Hermione exited the inn and started up the road toward the mountain trail, Raucous flying before her.
It was all or nothing now.
********************************
Venoma sat by the window, shading her eyes from the sun and scanning the skies. Ketri had not yet responded. She should have heard something by now. The greedy wizard never wasted time reported. Information was Croupkas after all. The witch had a bad feeling about this.
Vivaldi sat in the armchair, strumming his lyre and singing a melancholy song of unrequited love in a sweet tenor voice. Everything he composed was melancholy, reflecting the sadness in his heart concerning his unanswered longing for his half-sister. Venoma was aware of this, and encouraged his dark, brooding creations. It kept him focused on her to the exclusion of all else. If the young wizard were to have his heart drawn elsewhere, Venoma feared she might have to attend him in order to keep him lusting after her. She did not want to do this, but was not beyond committing incest to keep her standing in the House of Snape. It would be a necessary sacrifice. She glanced at the wizard. He was dark, intense, like most of the males of her house. It might not be an unpleasant sacrifice at any rate. She looked back out the window and frowned. She had waited enough. She placed her fingers on either side of her temples and concentrated.
“Ozmadias, come to me,” she thought, summoning her familiar.
She opened the window and waited.
Several minutes later she saw the approaching speck. She smiled. The speck grew larger and the great copper bird fluttered outside the window, then crowded into the sill, lowering his head for a caress from his mistress.
“Ozmadias, Ketri has not returned,” Venoma said, stroking his white crest lovingly, “I fear something has gone wrong. I want you to fly down the mountain and over the village and send me what you see.”
The bird squawked and fell out the window, straightened himself and plummeted downward. He would watch for his mistress.
He would not fail her.
*******************************
A/N: Hermione is on her way to the mountain. Ozmadias is watching. Snape is watching. Venoma is watching. Lots of watching going on here. Lol. Please review.
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.