16

Chapter 16: Ring of Power

Severus Snape swept out of his chambers near 4 o'clock in the afternoon. Damn Albus and his need to communicate with him! "Love is supposed to be wonderful, isn't it?" Albus had told him earlier at breakfast. And though they were but 8 simple words, Snape knew that they had a meaning much more important behind them. He wasn't a spy for nothing: he knew people. Their patterns, their mannerisms, their motivations. And right now, Snape was pondering Dumbledore's.

Love?

Like the love that was supposed to be in the Dursely household, erected around the Dursley household? Well, neither loving relatives nor blood wards inhabited or environed Number 4, Privet Drive- Snape laughed derisively at the idea. No, there was something the headmaster was hinting at, most likely something he had slowly been nudging Severus about for weeks. The answer flashed like a streak of light through his mind.

Rings.

Somehow the headmaster's comment about befriending colleagues was all just a cover up for the real intent. Somehow, Dumbledore had gotten himself into a potentially dangerous scenario...surrounding rings. To hell with seeing changes in old enemies and reading muggle books, the old codger just wanted to tell him he had a ring! And the fact that Sirius had just proposed somehow made Dumbledore's question on love that much more cryptic. If Severus were to wager a guess, it would be that Dumbledore had a ring, most likely magical, in his possession, that may potentially have a connection with love. Not a bad deduction for a Potions Master!

Speaking of rings, he had finished the entire muggle series from December to February, front to back, two times over. And yet, there were no clues to be found! It was just as Lupin had said: the ring made the wearer invisible, or technically, in another layer of existence... Which made sense, seeing as how Altair was (failing miserably at remaining) in hiding. Still, Hasan was a mystery, as was the father. A mystery that Severus hoped to work out in their next Patronus session.

Snape rounded the corner and walked up to the gargoyle, barking "Chocolate frogs!" so that the staircase would emerge and Snape could trudge on uninterrupted. He knocked thrice on the door, just for formality's sake, before receiving a weary "Enter!" from none other than Albus Dumbledore. The man in question sat behind his desk, where on it sat hundreds of his whizzing silver instruments. The former headmasters and headmistresses snored exaggeratingly loud, confessing of their need to eavesdrop.

"Hello, Severus. Thank you for coming, though I know you are busy."

Not particularly, but Snape wasn't about to say that. Not like he needed to anyway: what was he going to do on Valentine's day? Grade papers? They were already finished- damn his efficiency.

"It's of no consequence, Albus." Severus said, trying to keep the sneer from his tone.

Albus bowed his head, before making to get up, leaning heavily on his desk for support. His movements were slow, like that of a giant tortoise, and yet very poised.

"And yet, I will thank you." Dumbledore returned evenly. He straightened and locked ice blue eyes with obsidian. "I request the assistance of one trained in the Dark Arts." he informed Snape seriously, eyes never wavering and certainly never twinkling. "I also have quite a few confessions to make."

Snape's eyebrow rose dubiously. The great Albus Dumbledore parting with one of his beloved secrets? Oh yes, he was dead. He was dead! The world was reaching the end of existence! Snape nearly gaped at the headmaster, but the elder man showed no signs of falsity.

"What?" Snape asked before he could stop himself. He didn't want to push, least the man changed his mind, but he felt a physical need to exclaim something at this miracle.

"My dear boy, I had not wished to share this information with anyone. Not yet. The time isn't right, but then, is there ever a right time to share these types of things?"

Out with it, old man!

Albus sighed and closed his eyes. "The prophecy, in full, the exact same one you had overheard and told to Voldemort." Snape flinched- it was the greatest regret of his life. "But also the story of Tom Marvolo Riddle."

Tom? Snape had heard Dumbledore refer to Voldemort as Tom many times. Still, hearing his full name brought shivers up Snape's spine.

"Why? Why now? What were you waiting for? Surely not for Harry Potter to return!" Snape laughed harshly. "Surely you must be joking! Voldemort was in the school last year! We have dementors flying around the castle because of him! This isn't the time to wait!"

Albus' eyes snapped back open, roaring with icy fire. "I know. Which is why I wish to tell you now. Severus, if you'll hear me out." His voice reverberated with power, a wealth of ancient magic, swirling in the undulations of the wizard's voice. Snape found himself enthralled by the authority commanded in this wizard, and he again reminded himself that this was the person who had defeated the Dark Lord Grindelwald. Not just the wizard who had sentenced Harry Potter to a life of misery, but the only man whom the Dark Lord ever feared.

Albus ruled over this power now, his entire being infused in the magic of the centuries.

"I have made a great many of mistakes. So many that you will never know. But I am willing to open up now because I must. Yesterday, I found something I had been searching for over the course of a year. I had interrogated an old friend of mine, one I am sure you remember quite well: Horace Slughorn. I say interrogated because it was indeed an interrogation. He had warped the memory beyond recognition and buried it under years and years of reassurance and denial, and to recover it was to fight against his mental wards. This had occurred as soon as I had learned of Harry's disappearance, and though he is undamaged mentally, I lost an old friend. An yet, I hold no regrets." His voice was grave and laced with fire.

Severus was gaping. What memory had been so crucial that Albus had cut loose such an old friendship? What memory was so crucial that Albus had to actually fight tooth and nail to obtain it? And they had all imagined him to be unconcerned with the Potter boy, when he had sacrificed for...something. For something.

"What do you need me for, Albus?" Severus finally asked. "What are you planning to do?"

"I plan on destroying Voldemort. It is not the responsibility of an infant, a child, or a single being. It is for all of us. And I'll start by telling you the prophecy."

Snape sucked in a breath as Dumbledore recited:

"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches. Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies. And the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not. And either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives. The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies." Albus clasped his hands in front of him and paced quietly to stand in front of Snape, who, by the end, had found himself sitting in one of the headmaster's chairs, his legs seemingly unable to hold him.

"So it means that...we're all doomed, essentially?" Severus whispered numbly, dread sinking into his heart as a serum dripped from a needle. "Only Harry Potter can defeat the Dark Lord."

Albus nodded slowly, "...It would appear that way."

Snape eyes snapped to him, angry at being left to worry, but also desperate for the confirmation. "What are you not telling me?" he demanded shrewdly.

"The prophecy, if interpreted right, only means that Harry must deliver the final blow. That is to say, anyone can begin to kill him up to that point."

As Snape was opening his mouth to protest that Albus had finally lost it, Albus drew his attention away by summoning the stone pensieve from its crystal cabinet. Well shoot him dead!- giving up secrets and memories in one go?

"I believe that we should delve into the memories first. Do not protest, I promise I will explain all in time. They depict Tom Riddle's beginnings at the orphanage, as well as the memories I have been able to secure about the Gaunt family, and lastly the memory I procured taken from Slughorn; all of these condensed of course." Dumbledore looked from Snape's incredulous face to the great silver clock on the wall with an expression of thoughtful speculation. "We should be out of here by six."

The memories, misty silver, already swirling within the great basin rose up to great them, as the two wizards plunged into their depths.

.oOo.

It was four o'clock, and Hasan found himself back in his dorm, hands cupping his cheeks, and jade eyes staring blankly at his bookshelf. Where was it?

His Lord of the Rings Books had suddenly been returned to him in a small pile outside of his room. Mysteriously, Draco had just parted with him down in the library, so it couldn't have been him to place them there...

Then, as he went to place the back on his shelf, he noticed something he should have noticed a long time ago: the diary was gone. GONE. As paranoid as Hasan was, he hadn't even thought that the diary would disappear, either from theft or...other means. He knew that the diary held a certain quality about it, a pull, a pull that was so similar...to the diadem? What did it all mean? The first of what? he recalled asking. Instinctively, he knew that the diadem was one of them.

Hasan took the tiara out of his bag and cast several protective wards about it to defend from intruders, but also to defend the intruders from it. Hasan wasn't quite sure what the diadem could do, but a certain feeling in his gut made him think that it probably wasn't good...and seeing as the diary belonged to Lord Voldemort, Hasan was sure that both items could do pretty nasty things.

He hid the tiara in the bottom of his trunk, safe inside the pouch that Luna had given him, (which just so happened to be charmed so that only he could open it) and stared back at the book shelf. Why? It must have been Draco...right? Who else? Unless...he vividly remembered that Lord Voldemort was a parselmouth and that the book could respond...he didn't know where he was going with this. Books couldn't just hop up and leave! Especially under such shady circumstances: Things weren't looking so great for Draco.

But thinking to the fashion in which the books were returned, it was obvious that Draco hadn't returned them. Which meant a few things: Either Draco read the books and stole the diary, Draco didn't read the books and stole the diary, Draco read the books but didn't steal the diary, or Draco didn't read the books and didn't steal the diary.

Which lead to: Who had he given the diary to?- unless it was stolen, and who had he given the books to?

Or perhaps he was collaborating? A group of two or more reading the books AND stealing the diary?

But who would want his books? Who was curious about him enough to be interested in a bunch of muggle books? Or who was curious enough about books about rings to steal them? His mind came up with Lupin, the man who saw his boggart which turned into a ring, but Lupin was a thief, and last time he checked, Draco wasn't too close with him, thinking him a werewolf...which left Snape. His jade eyes flickered in sudden recognition.

Severus Snape.

What was it with the man and prying into his business? Sure, his father and he had some sort of history, brewing potions and...wait, didn't Lupin receive the Wolfsbane Potion from him too? Perhaps, hypothetically, Lupin mentioned his boggart because of Snape's inexplicable curiosity...perhaps Draco had given Snape the books- they were godson and godfather, after all.

It was all so obvious.

And yet...the mechanism, the spark: Why was Snape so damn curious? His thoughts sprinted to the diary and the diadem. Did Snape perhaps know what they were? They belonged to Lord Voldemort at some point in life, and come to think of it, Hasan wasn't sure what side Snape was on anyway.

He turned his mind to Draco again. Maybe he had missed something? Why would Draco steal from him? Jealousy? Anger? Curiosity? Or worse...the diary itself. Did Draco feel the pull as well? An icy dread settled over Hasan's heart as he imagined the implications. Hasan had tried for the better part of two months not to let any thoughts stray towards the diary. It was sinister; it had to be! A mystery, a secret...If Snape knew, would he tell Hasan? What if he denied it? And if Lupin had indeed told Snape of his boggart, then who could he trust? Who could he trust to keep secret or to tell him the truth? No one.

So where could he get the truth? Surely not the library: too crowded, and sure to have some sort of tracking charm for one's book history. Besides, Hasan had a feeling that this wasn't something one could simply look up in a school library- maybe not in any library.

So where?

His memories.

.oOo.

Hasan strode nonchalantly out of the castle, past the hallways full of snogging couples, and into the perpetual fog of the outdoors. Disillusioned, no one stopped to question him where he had put his brain to step outside, alone, and invisible, in a field of dementors.

Invisible, Hasan felt safe(r), not being able to bring himself to maximum security with the potential of dying looming appetizingly on the horizon. He still would have preferred to have James Potter's Invisibility Cloak, but well, who needed cloaks when one had spells? He walked forward, staying in the direct entrance of the building for a quick getaway, in case of the worst. No one walked outside anymore, except for Hogsmeade on the other side of the castle, and even that was with teachers and multiple other protectors. There wasn't quidditch due to a minimal turnout. The outside was barren, lonely, and perfect for the guards of Azkaban.

The dementors sensed his presence immediately, the ten stationed outside the school swooping in a slow descent over this warm body. They paused midway however, seeming to hesitate before advancing. This boy? This person? Was he...emotionless? No. As they neared, the faint pulse of passionate waves leapt up from a contained mentality. His emotions were buried so deep that the dementors questioned if he were even food. Perhaps he was a dog? Or a cat? Or another one of those blasted owls?

Yet, even as his emotions waxed and waned, the dementors' affects were not in the least lessened. Still high in the air, Hasan felt a pressure against his scar, and cringing, he fell to the floor in a kneeling position. His vision became dim...gray...black...The dementors loomed closer, so close now. Their icy breath upon his face...white...white...WHITE!

His entire vision was swamped in brilliant, radiant, effulgent light, so pure and plain and...figures, shapes, places. He was descending, as if on a cloud, down to the Castell Estate, over the slate roof and short grass, and straight through the door, somehow finding himself in his father's room. The bedchamber of Altair Castell. There- right there, thick brown hair, so rich! Younger...the word floated to mind. Yes, younger. The diary of Tom Riddle sitting on the desk, two faces poring over it, lit only by the candles...

"That's a-?" Altair's distinct voice questioned in awe.

"It's one of them, yes. The first." the other said, a soft voice, a sweet voice...and yet so very vague. Altair reached out a gentle hand to touch the cover and a gloved one shot out to stop it. "Don't touch it."

He turned his face towards Altair, and Hasan gasped. Lucius Malfoy?

"So...how do we destroy it?" Altair asked with a sigh.

"We don't."

"What do you mean?" Altair demanded.

"I mean we can't destroy it unless we find the sword of Godric Gryffindor or a basilisk fang to stab it with." Lucius explained petulantly. "And seeing as we have neither- Oh no, we are not raising a basilisk!"

"Oh be quiet, Lucy..."

White...white...grey...black...black...emerald.

.oOo.

Altair sat at his desk, reading Lucius latest letter with interest. He had received it only month or so...but did enjoy keeping the man hanging to a point. Besides, for an owl to fly from Britain to Paris to back? Not exactly instant mail.

The letter was composed rather formally, with a Malfoy oath to top it off. A bit extreme, but very much appreciated. The more cooperation, the less room for error. He was curious that Lucius had managed to pass on the diary...he wondered where and who- though the why was fairly obvious. Lucius lived to discredit people- or, that was the joke anyway...or used to be. Altair sighed and picked up his quill.

"Dear L.A.M.,

I appreciate your oath from the bottom of my heart. As stated, here is my second task- one I know that will be very much in your power to complete, and very much in your interest to do so.

There is a house outside of the woods in Little Hangleton, by name of the Gaunt House. It has been deserted for many years. I seek possession of a golden ring set with a black stone. You will know how to find it.

Best wishes,

A.D.C."

.oOo.

Lucius Malfoy, despite having told the man NOT to send letters during the day, found himself receiving one in the middle of a rather late and lonely lunch. Most fortunately for him, Narcissa had gone out shopping (again), and Dobby wouldn't dare tell on him...where was that infernal house-elf anyway?

The excitement at receiving a letter nearly two months overdue, however, outweighed his annoyance and he quickly tore open the envelope...

...L.A.M and A.D.C. It was something he had forgotten, wasn't it? Something just beyond his reach, he felt the familiarity- another subtle reminder of Lucius' dependency. But the rest...a ring? The man wanted him to go to an abandoned house to get a ring? No 'it's in a cupboard' or 'it's under a cushion,' just a 'go to the house and hope for the best?'

But it did make him wonder: first a diary and now a ring? What connection? What significance? Even as he grabbed his black cloak and spare wand, he pondered why he was even going to do this.

Lucius apparated to the outskirts of Little Hangleton and from there, strode to the forest, passing by a large and sprawling cemetery. It was a short walk, ten minutes at most, until Lucius arrived in a dying grass field with a dilapidated hovel backed up against some trees. The House of Gaunt indeed- Hagrid's meager hut was better than this! And yet, something about the house made him decidedly uneasy. Perhaps it was the fact that the entire area wreaked of death and decay, or maybe that the house was drenched and dripping with Dark Magic.

His cloak covered him from head to toe and his wand was out, poised in front of him. Taking a breath to steal himself, Lucius strode to the door, where upon it was nailed a great shriveled snake. He curled his lip in disgust and pushed the port open with his boot.

The inside of the house wasn't much better. Spider webs, cobwebs, more bugs, glass shards,...broken tables, chairs, and nearly an inch thick of dust on everything! Even the air! Simply put, the place was a dump. Had no one thought to clean it out? Obviously not. Lucius certainly wouldn't, what with the pure Black energy radiating off the place. If not for Altair Castell, Lucius wouldn't even had stepped in it, wouldn't even have known it.

Some glass from a beer bottle crunched underfoot as the blonde wizard cautiously stepped about the site. His slate grey eyes darted for any indication of what to do, but no clues were to be found.

"Accio ring!" Nothing. "Accio Gaunt's ring!" Nothing. "Accio Altair's ring!" Nothing. "Oh, for Salazar's sake! What am I doing here?"

He ground his teeth furiously, kicking glass into the walls, when he felt a sudden pull on his magic. To the bedroom. To the bedroom!

His legs carried him into a small room jutting off from the main one, that was furnished with but three things: a table, a chair, and a bed. But as soon as he registered these, there was that gentle tug on his magic again. He pivoted and nearly gaped in surprise: a swirling orb of Dark Magic (completely invisible, but easily sensed) surrounded a small drawer in the wall. Ah! So this was what he meant by knowing, he thought, reaching for the hidden compartment. It carefully slid out, not being a proper drawer, and Lucius brought it down to study its contents thoroughly.

A single ring, crudely made of dark tarnished gold, sat conspicuously in the little container. It did indeed bear a black stone, and Lucius nearly smiled in triumph, but his job wasn't over yet. The dark magic pulsed around it in an arc, invisible yes, and yet palpable. He began muttering a string of ancient spellwork, and as the wards fell away, he realized with awe that it was not the magic, but the complexity of the overlapping spells that gave the shield that much strength.

Ten minutes later, and a sheen of sweat shone on his regal brow. The wards had finally buckled, falling away like the peal of an orange, and the ring, singularly exquisite, sat harmlessly in his palm. He wasn't sure what it was, or why he felt the need to try it on, to wear it...but he knew that anything buried beneath that much dark magic was rarely good. It was common sense.

Lucius replaced the drawer back into the slot in the wall, and tucked the ring into his inner cloak pocket. He exited the building before apparating away, wondering how the diary of Tom Riddle related to the ring of Gaunt...

.oOo.

Snape and Dumbledore flew out of the pensieve with similar expressions of horror, disgust, and loathing intermingled on their horror-struck faces. Dumbledore's features were muted, however, but the severity of the situation wasn't any less.

"That ring- is that what you've found?" Snape asked disbelievingly. "A horcrux? Is that what it is?" His sharp eyes held nothing but worry. Dumbledore nodded gravely.

"I fear it is only one of many. As we learned from Tom Riddle's beginnings, he was always fascinated by trophies. He kept a collection of stolen items I made him turn out at the orphanage. As you will also recall, he was fascinated by magic and resented both his muggle family and his muggle blood, to the point of changing his name and killing the Riddle side of his family. This happened while he was at Hogwarts, which can only mean that he had indeed created a horcrux while a student."

"And the rest of these horcruxes?" Severus asked. "Do you believe he has succeeded in creating seven?" Merlin knew he killed enough to split his soul to bits. But Severus also knew how dark and supremely dangerous magic dealing with the soul could be. Splitting a soul was...against the very laws of the universe. It would render a person less than human, a monster- namely, Voldemort.

"I have but the infinitesimal shadow of a doubt that Voldemort had not." Albus spoke. "As to the actually horcruxes themselves, I believe that Tom's fascination with this school's history has lead him to covet items belonging to Hogwarts' founders."

"The ring of Gaunt?" Severus probed.

"Yes, the Gaunt's were indeed descendants of our school's Salazar Slytherin. The ring, but also the locket you will notice. Tom found particular significance in items belonging to Slytherin as they represented both his magic and his heritage."

"And you have found the hiding place?" Snape asked. "Albus, this is madness! If there are indeed seven pieces of Voldemort's soul, they would be in the most infernal locations surrounded, I am sure, by layers and layers of the darkest wards! To have expected Potter to go on such a hunt! Sheer madness!"

"I regret my past decisions, but right now we have in our power, the ability to destroy one of Tom Riddle's horcruxes: the sword of Godric Gryffindor." He waved his arm and the old battered sorting hat came floating towards them. Snape quirked an eyebrow and Dumbledore elucidated. "Only a true Gryffindor can pull the sword from the hat. When we return, I'll call Neville to try it on- it's the least I can do for putting him through this whole ordeal...and he has borne it extremely well."

Snape nodded tersely as the clock struck six. "The sooner we get this over with the better."

"I couldn't have put it better, my boy." Dumbledore nodded with a sigh. He placed the sorting hat on the desk and took up a little silver snitch. "It's such a shame there wasn't quidditch this year, after all."

He held the portkey up to the light and then brought it back down in front of Snape. Understanding dawned on him, and as their fingertips brushed the silver shell of the portkey, the ground dissolved beneath them.

.oOo.

The two wizards, Albus and Severus, materialized outside of a distasteful little shack, the exact same one they had visited only mere minutes ago in the memories.

"The House of Gaunt." Dumbledore announced, striding purposefully to the door. A wrinkled, dead snake was nailed to the port in a serpentine wave, and Severus swallowed thickly. Just because he agreed to do this didn't mean he was any less nervous about chasing down a part of Voldemort's soul. The door creaked open and a swirl of dust puffed out to greet them. Almost immediately, Severus could feel the dark magic saturated in the very fabric of the house, pulling against his heart, the desire that all dark magic contained.

"It's here." Severus said suddenly. "I feel it."

Albus' blue eyes widened behind his spectacles and he turned to Snape with curiosity. "How can you tell? Is it the Dark Mark?"

Snape started. He actually hadn't thought of that in light of the present situation. He rolled up his left sleeve to reveal an inky black skull and snake.

"What is it?" Dumbledore demanded with concern, peering at the accursed forearm. "Oh my..."

"Yes." Snape nodded tersely. "It is indeed worrying- hardly surprising when so near a dark artifact."

"Where is it? Can you sense it?" Albus asked in earnest. His blue eyes a wild energy within his aged face. Snape stared at the headmaster a moment longer, an odd feeling coming over his heart.

"Headmaster? Albus, are you alright?" Snape asked, voice not as harsh as usual.

"Where is it? Where is it?" Albus asked frantically, "The stone!"

Damn! Snape knew the headmaster was off all night! Something wasn't right; the man was possessed. Snape stepped back in horror. If the Dark Lord truly had laid this trap, then he might have laid something specifically for Dumbledore...

"Albus! Albus! Get a grip!" Snape shouted, even as his magic urged him to enter the bedroom. "ALBUS!" he screeched as the old man made a break for the dark magical origin. Snape raced him to the bedroom, but it was too late. Dumbledore had found the secret compartment and had ripped it from the wall eyes darting hungrily inside the cavity and inside the drawer.

"The ring! The ring!" Dumbledore shouted. "I know it's in here!"

Snape lunged for the drawer, knocking it from the headmaster's hands so that it crashed against the dusty wall. It was like the Lord of the Rings all over again. But made this magical object so precious? Why did Albus want it apart from the obvious reason of destroying it.

"ALBUS!" Snape cried, gripping his shoulders in a vice-like grip. "Look. At. Me."

The old man turned his weary and tearful eyes towards Severus and the mist whirling about in those blue icy depths dulled immediately.

"S-severus..." His shoulders, wrapping in a light blue cloak sagged heavily against Snape and Snape wasn't sure quite what to do. Luckily, the headmaster regained his senses and sat up moments later, fixing Severus with a stare of one who had lived a long time. "I'm weak."

His voice was small and yet so loud in the silent house.

"No, you're not weak." Severus said tiredly. "The Dark Lord had laid a trap. He's killed millions before-"

"No. It wasn't him." Albus dissented. "It was me...all me." A great sadness emanated from the wizard, and Severus couldn't help getting swept up in the currant. "But let us turn our mind to the present. The ring. It's not here."

Severus sighed. He felt it as surely as he knew. "But it was, recently. Did the Dark Lord remove it? Or perhaps a follower?"

Dumbledore shook his head. "None that would have this knowledge. It's very possible that I had miscalculated the location, or that Voldemort had moved it."

There was silence, broken only by the distant calling of spring birds. "Wait." Snape interjected suddenly. "Hold on. This, these footprints. They're recent." His eyes widened as he took in a foot print beyond his own, right at the base of the wall. His gaze lingered before following the trail to the main room. "The question is who."

Dumbledore's face seemed to crack in a million tatters. "We're too late. But I have the distinct feeling that it was a friend." They both ventured to the main room, scanning for clues, and found glass moved from their original locations and burst against the wall. "Most likely they had not been given directions on where to find it, explaining a need for frustration release."

"And if it were the Dark Lord, he would not have left footprints, unless he was paranoid enough to make it look like a set up. A highly unlikely scenario, since the main reason he would have to remove it would be for fear of discovery. The Dark Lord wouldn't waste time creating such a puzzle." Snape concluded. "And a follower would have been told explicit instructions to leave minimal evidence. So this is not the work of a Death Eater, unless of a Death Eater gone rogue."

Dumbledore nodded thoughtfully, stroking through his long beard. "I fear I have wasted our time, and yet, it makes me inexplicably happy to know we have an ally somewhere. Even if that ally has no means to destroy it."

But already, Snape's mind was miles away. An ally. One against the Dark Lord. One that knew something of the Dark Lord. One with enough time to set a puzzle and the luck to set it just before Dumbledore's search. No this was beyond luck. This was the work of Altair Castell.

.oOo.

"HASAN, WAKE UP!" Sirius Black bellowed in the kid's ear, slapping his face from side to side. "HASAN! YOU IDIOT! WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU DOING OUTSIDE?" SEVERUS WOULD SKIN ME ALIVE! WAKE U-"

"Quiet." Hasan hissed, his hand shooting out and grabbing Sirius' hand so that he could be spared the incoming slap.

"Oh, thank Merlin!" Sirius cried, close to tears. "Can you stand up?"

Hasan nodded before his head throbbed painfully. What the hell?

"I saw your hand sticking inside. You must have hit your head on the door..." Sirius supplied, swallowing. "Just stay here, I'm going to get Poppy. Oh, wait, I can use magic-"

He levitated Hasan onto a conjured stretcher and rushed him to the infirmary, snatching a chocolate frog from some second year girl, Luna Lovegood, he thought, and shoved it in Hasan's hand. Hasan chewed at it thoughtfully letting the warmth flow through him as Sirius raced down the halls, Hasan's stretcher floating behind.

"Out of my way!" Sirius barked to lovebirds, snogging intensely outside the infirmary. "Poppy! Poppy!" He burst into the ward and levitated Hasan onto a clean white hospital bed, screaming 'Poppy!' at the top of his lungs.

The mediwitch had been enjoying a relatively pleasant year without any scrapes or injuries, largely due to fact that quidditch had been canceled. Resting in her office with a book on Magical Herbs propped up on her desk; she practically jumped in surprise at Sirius' shouts, tying on her apron as she ran.

"What is it, Sirius? What? Oh my!" Her eyes had just caught sight of Hasan's brown braid hanging off the infirmary bed, and she wet her lips nervously. Hasan's skin was a deathly, clammy pale, and his eyes were shut tight though he chewed silently on a beheaded chocolate frog. "What happened? Was it-?"

"Yes. I found him outside with his hand in the door. He must have hit his head." Sirius informed her quickly. "The dementors were swarmed around him when I opened the door, but his soul seems safe enough."

"Mr. Castell, can you hear me?" Poppy asked seriously.

Hasan cracked open his eyes and winced. "Yes."

"Good, now I'm going to cast a diagnosis spell on you and come back with a box of chocolate frogs, goodness knows we have enough of them." Madam Pomfrey muttered, casting the spell with complicated swirls of her wand. "Hmm, minor bruising to the back of the head, thankfully nothing else, though you may experience a slight headache. I'll be right back with the chocolate frogs." The mediwitch bustled away, leaving Hasan and Sirius alone.

"What were you doing out there?" Sirius demanded. "If I hadn't gotten there in time-! The dementors were surrounding you!"

Hasan groaned and covered his eyes. His skull was pounding and he wasn't sure why. His heart was racing and his entire body ached. The memory, the diary... so much information throbbing painfully against his thoughts. But the emerald light! So beautiful...

"I'm sorry." Hasan said quietly. "I just get lonely on Valentine's Day and wanted to get away."

The answer shot to Sirius' heart, for he had been on cloud nine the entire day. The thought that Hasan felt so alone as to want to be with dementors!

"Don't worry about it, kid." Sirius sighed. "Just pray that Severus won't kill me."

"Do I mean that much...to him, I mean?" Hasan queried, "Or does he really not like you?"

Sirius chuckled softly. "A little bit of both, I think. When we were children, we didn't get along very well."

"Ah. I see. What time is it?"

"Seven." Black answered. "We'll bring dinner to you later."

"I'm not hungry, but thanks." Hasan groaned. Just then, Poppy came back with the chocolate amphibians, and shoved a couple in Hasan's hands.

"Eat up, eat up! I told Albus not to let dementors guard the school! But I suppose we can file a formal complaint now that you've been attacked." she added thoughtfully. "Yes, I'd like to see Fudge worm his way out of that one: Fudge insists Dementors stay at school after Student almost Dies! Ha! But are you alright, Mr. Castell?"

Hasan nodded. "Fine. I just have a killer headache."

"Well, we'll be alerting your head of house as soon as he gets back." Poppy told him.

Gets back?

"Where is he?" Hasan asked sharply.

"Oh, well. He and the headmaster went out on some errand or other." Poppy said with a frown. "But he disappeared three hours ago. Sirius, do you want to check the office?"

"Yeah, just hang tight, Hasan." Sirius mumbled and walked out the door.

Hasan's eyelids fell heavily over his jaded orbs, and before he knew it, sleep was leading him away...

.oOo.

Snape sat in a white infirmary chair beside Hasan's sleeping form. As soon as he and Dumbledore had reached the castle, Sirius Black had come bursting in, requesting both of their prescences.

"Dumbledore, Sn-severus! Hasan, the dementors!"

Dumbledore's twinkling eyes at the fact that Black called him by his name hardened at the second part of the yell.

"He's in the Infirmary." Sirius had panted. "He was fine and then he just sort of blacked out."

Dumbledore had sagged where he stood.

"Go. I'll talk to Cornelius about the dementors."

"Are you going to be alright?" Severus had asked hastily, heading towards the door.

"Yes, go."

And now, Severus found himself alone, but for Hasan's unconscious form, with a quill and parchment in his hand. Altair said not to contact him unless in a case of dire emergency...but Severus had a feeling that this qualified. The color had returned to Hasan's cheeks, but otherwise, he was out like a light. His chest rose shallowly and an open box of chocolate frogs lay on the bedside table.

How should he begin?

Dear Castell, your son nearly received his first kiss! (From a dementor.)

Yeah, he was sure that would go over well. Severus heaved a sigh. He almost wished that today had been another normal, absolutely boring Valentine's Day...Could he never catch a break?

He was still exhausted from his escapade with the headmaster, and the extremely condensed lesson on Voldemort's past. Learning that Hasan had been outside, unconscious, and surrounded by dementors really put the icing on the cake. But still, he had to think why. Was there a correlation between the missing ring and Hasan being outside?

While Hasan was no doubt connected to rings, Snape was highly skeptical that he was the one who stole the horcrux. Still...Snape peered at Hasan's fingers and spotted a most peculiar silver band on his hand. It wasn't gold nor was it set with anything, but Snape found himself gently sliding it off and examining it. Suddenly the ring began to burn, not enough to harm anyone, but just enough to alert of...wait, were they words? His obsidian eyes widened imperceptibly as his grip tightened on the silver band.

'Hasan, are you alright? N.L.'

A protean charm? His gaze trailed back to Hasan, then down again at the ring. Had he cast the protean charm? Where had he even learned such a- Altair. Of course. But if he knew this, then did he know others? Did he know how to cut through the Dark Lord's wards? The idea was extremely unlikely.

Severus slipped the ring back on the boy's finger and began to write.

"A. Castell,

Your son nearly got kissed by a dementor today. But as I'm already troubled to write to inform you of his wellbeing, do you or do you not know anything about Gaunt's ring? Humor me. I don't believe in luck.

Regards,

S.S."

.oOo.

Altair Castell was enjoying a very busy Valentine's Day. Despite living alone and in hiding, with a snake as company, a broad smile painted the sage lines of his face. He had just received Lucius' letter and now the ring lay upon the table, odd parts of it glinting from the crude indents and make.

"Ah! The Deathly Hallows!" Altair hummed to himself, studying the triangular insignia. It had been his favorite fairy tale growing up, and was as recognizable as the Dark Mark. He believed in the myth to an extent, but the point was, it could possibly be an indicator of the Dark Lord's belief in the three hallows as well. Which meant that sooner or later, the wizard would go after the wand, and thus in turn, Dumbledore might possibly die...But this was of little consequence.

He had one of them now. It had been as simple as wizard's chess! Tell the pawn to move and he moved! Tell the pawn to fetch and he fetched! But Lucius was no ordinary pawn, if anything, Altair thought of him as the queen- not all owing to his flowing mane and tendency for drama...

He picked up Lucius' letter and scanned over the lines once more. The house had been covered in inch thick dust, full of broken glass and bugs. He told of the location of the ring, but also asked for its significance. The two questions were thus: Have you destroyed my memories? Do I have the chance of getting them back?

"Dear Lucius,

I thank you for your speedy delivery and consideration for venturing into such a dreadful place. As thank you, here are the answers to your three questions: 1) The ring has a separate significance for separate intents. For instance, it belonged to Marvolo Gaunt, a descendant of Salazar Slytherin. For him, it was an heirloom, a priceless testament to his heritage. To me, it is simply a tool. And to you, it is but a task on the rung. 2) Have I destroyed your memories? I thought I had covered my tracks well enough- apparently not. Your memories are still in existence, but not in my possession. They're safe enough. 3) A chance at getting them back? Perhaps, perhaps not. It all depends on how well and if you obey. By the by, have you ever heard of Slytherin's locket? It once belonged to the Gaunt's but a certain tragedy overthrew them. Perhaps some prying is in Order?

Happy Valentine's Day,

Altair"

Just as he sealed it up, Raven came hooting into the room through the window. His eyebrows rose in surprise, as she wasn't supposed to bring him something unless in a dire emergency. Hasan...

He let Raven nibble on an owl treat as he relieved the owl of its burden. He sliced open the letter with wandless magic and read cursorily...

... Dementors? When had Hogwarts gotten dementors? And why? Was the Dark Lord about to return? Was the school undergoing a reform? Who was supposed to control them? He was ready to burn Albus Dumbledore to the ground. But aside from this, Severus' knowledge of the ring intrigued him. He knew how well-informed Severus was about these things that no one knew about, and so wasn't gasping in surprise.

What amused him, however, was how quickly Severus had been able to deduce he was involved. And hang on a second...Severus knew something about the ring as well. Altair had no doubt that Albus had cracked the code, so perhaps Severus was closer to the headmaster than he had previously thought...interesting. So close, in fact, that they probably had gone after the ring today- it didn't take a genius to figure out where it would be hidden, and if Lucius didn't cover up his tracks...well, it was no surprise that Severus had made a guess.

"Dear Severus,

Thank you for informing me. I'm worried, of course, but I know you will do everything in your power to help Hasan recover. As for your second point, I hope this answer sates you for a while:

The ring? I'm staring at it.

Best regards,

A.C."