"So, is that what Love is?"
"Yes, that is what Love is. It is what makes the game become the falcon, the falcon become man, and man, in his turn, the desert. It is what turns lead into gold, and makes the gold return to the earth."
...
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The Scottish sky over the grounds of Hogwarts was clear that night. All the starts were visible and one could see most of the constellations if one knew where to look.
Severus Snape did know where to look, he paid a lot of attention in Astrology in his days as a student at Hogwarts, but he didn't have the luxury to do that at the moment. He was rather preoccupied with something that couldn't wait.
Dumbledore was sagged sideways in the throne like chair behind the desk, semiconscious. His right hand dangled over the side, blackened and burned.
Severus' heavy traveling cloak was draped over the back of a chair and the sleeves of his robes were folded up to his elbows to keep them out of the way.
He softly muttered incantations, pointing his wand at the wrist of Dumbledore's withered hand, while with his left hand he tipped a goblet full of thick golden potion down Dumbledore's throat. After a moment or two, Dumbledore's eyelids fluttered and opened.
"Why?" Severus asked the headmaster right away. He'd traveled long on short notice to come to Hogwarts in the middle of his summer break. Pleasantries were never Severus' forte and he especially didn't have the energy for it now. "Why did you put on that ring? It carried a curse, surely you realized that. Why even touch it?"
Dumbledore grimaced. "I . . . was a fool." he managed in between grunts of pain. "Sorely tempted . . ."
"Tempted by what?"
Dumbledore didn't answer and left Severus wondering how a Stone that didn't look like it was worth much could tempt a man who had everything.
If only he knew.
"It's a miracle you managed to return here!" he continued when Dumbledore left him long without an answer. "That ring carried a curse of extraordinary power, to contain it is all we can hope for; I've trapped the curse in one hand for the time being . . ."
Severus cut himself off when he noticed the old man wasn't paying much attention to what he had to say anymore. Instead Dumbledore had raised his blackened, useless hand and was examining it with the expression of one being shown an interesting curio.
"You have done very well, Severus." he murmured at last, still looking at his dead hand with not a lot of emotion visible on his ancient face. "How long do you think I have?"
Dumbledore's tone was conversational. He might have been asking for a weather forecast or what they were having for dinner.
Severus internally frowned at the man's careless attitude. He hesitated before answering, wondering if he should voice his thoughts, but decided against it. He then said, "I cannot tell. Maybe a year. There is no halting such a spell forever. It will spread eventually. It's the sort of curse that strengthens over time."
