1 August 1994
On the morning of the first of August, Harry invited Neville to join him for a private celebration of Lughnasadh at Potter Manor, but Neville declined as politely as he could.
"No, I… I really don't want to. Sorry, Harry. I mean, Gran is kind of traditional if not very keen on the rituals, but the Longbottoms are Light wizards. My dad went to church at Christmas, and everything. I want to believe my parents would be proud of me, Harry. Some of the rituals get really Dark. With blood sacrifices, and curses. I mean, not always," Neville hastened to add, as Harry looked mulish at the accusation. "I am sure you will stay away from that kind of thing. Please don't be mad? I don't think you're a bad person, you know."
"I understand. I just… well I'd like to share it with you," said Harry.
"I tried the Old Ways for you already, Harry."
"Yes, I suppose that's true – thanks for that. It's just… it'll look odd if I go off on the Knight Bus on my own when I just got here."
"Oh," Neville said.
They sat in silence together for a while before Neville sighed and said, "I can't think of anything. Another problem is that Gran has promised Mr. Black not to let you go off on your own anywhere. She has to Floo someone to arrange an escort."
Harry scowled, and Neville patted him tentatively on the shoulder. "I am not allowed out on my own, either. Not with D-Death Eaters on the loose. Even Ron was complaining at your party about how his mum makes him and his siblings go about everywhere in groups, now."
Straightening up in his seat, Harry said, "I know. I'll ask Master Snape to be my guard. He's one of the people Dumbledore has had watching me, on and off, I'm sure of it. He won't tell."
"He follows the Old Ways? Why am I not surprised," Neville said darkly. "I wonder though – can you trust him? People are saying he has run off to join You-Know-Who, just like old times. Are you sure you'll be safe with him?"
"He just got a new potions job, Neville. It's probably for the best, don't you think? Given how he hates teaching. I doubt I'll be in any danger. He could've kidnapped or killed me any time. Who's saying that about him, anyway? It's certainly not the Prophet. They're not even admitting You-Know-Who is back. No-one listened to me about Quirrell or the diary."
"A couple of people. Ron says he heard his parents worrying about it. People say the Headmaster trusts him, but I am personally not convinced, Harry. Are you sure he's not Dark?"
Harry hesitated. "No. Not completely sure. I mean, we know he used to be a Death Eater. But people say he also used to be a spy – I don't think he's a danger to me. He's more like the Malfoys, or Lupin – they might have some sympathies in that direction, but they're friends of mine. Sometimes… sometimes you have to try trusting people. A little." Harry winced. Trusting was hard. Part of him knew that Snape couldn't be completely trusted, that his current allegiances were suspect, and his history Dark. On the other hand, there had been many opportunities for Snape to have hurt Harry or betrayed his secrets, and he hadn't ever done so. Unless you counted Snape harassing him into getting better grades at school. Really, as evil deeds went, that wasn't so bad. For now, he'd trust Snape. Cautiously.
Neville sighed. "Well, I hope you are right to do so in this case, Harry. I have read a lot about the war, and before Auror Crouch tightened up the trials a lot of people claimed to be spies, or innocent dupes, after You-Know-Who died. However, they had to prove their loyalty to become a Death Eater, and that required more than just flattering words to their Lord – it meant killing, or torturing, or selling people out. The transcripts show that Snape admitted that he hurt a lot of people – poisoning with noxious potions or dosing people up for information, mostly. He didn't get to be a Death Eater by hugging puppies and refusing to curse anyone."
Neville's face steeled with determination as he added, "Harry, just so you know, if you are late coming home I shall tell Gran to Floo the Aurors. I know his behaviour was acceptable at school – to you at least – so I shan't succumb to panic over your plan for him to accompany you on your outing or try to stop you. You must promise me you will be careful, but I do think you will most likely be fine. However, I think Snape liking you shall afford you a better shield than your… optimistic hope that he isn't secretly serving You-Know-Who."
Harry smiled. "I promise I'll be careful. And your plan is fine by me, I don't mind emergency back-up plans."
Neville's grandmother's barn owl was discreetly dispatched with a message for Professor Snape which hinted that Harry had a recent tradition of visiting the grounds of Potter Manor on his birthday or the day after, and if Snape was free to accompany him he'd appreciate his assistance.
When Neville's grandmother Flooed Dumbledore a couple of hours later to ask for an escort for Harry's sentimental private birthday visit to his ancestral home, Snape was coincidentally present in Dumbledore's living room. Dumbledore's face in the flickering green flames twinkled with a smile as he said that while he was busy himself, he'd managed to coax Professor Snape into breaking his visit with him to instead accompany Harry on his outing, with Dumbledore's promise that it wouldn't take more than a few hours. Harry admired the suspected manipulation there – someone was definitely being manipulated, but he didn't think it was his former professor.
Snape stepped through the green flames to Longbottom Manor, and a quick cleaning spell removed the soot from his robes with a silent flick of his wand.
"Greetings, Madam Longbottom," he said curtly, before turning to Harry and nodding at him briefly.
"Well Mr. Potter, don't stand about all day," he snapped at Harry. "Make sure you have gathered anything you need, for I shall not be taking you back and forth if you grow hungry or you realise you left your cloak with your brains."
"Yes, Master Snape," said Harry, darting off to get his leather satchel packed with food, his new golden sickle, a square of cloth Dobby had hemmed for him, a candle and matches, and his sleepy snake.
They travelled via Side-Along-Apparition to Potter Manor – or more precisely to just outside the grounds on the cobblestone driveway – since the manor was still just a few remnants of rubble. Storm awoke with a hissing complaint about being jostled, poking his snout out of the bag crossly.
"Shh, we're visiting Potter Manor for Lughnasadh. Remember the ssspecial rockss? Where you found the sharp ssstone for me last year?"
"Yess. Wake me when we're there," Storm said sleepily, coiling back up again. "It is too early to be awake."
"Now, Mr. Potter," Snape said, after their sibilant conversation subsided, "I inferred from your letter that you wished some privacy to celebrate Lughnasadh, correct?" He poked at the stone walls edging the shattered debris of the gate, picking off a few bits of lichen to expose some runes carved into the rock.
"Yes, sir."
"These seem to be waning, I think," Snape said conversationally, with a frown at the runes. "Notice-Me-Not and Muggle Repellent runes, at a guess. But it's not my area of expertise. You may want to have a professional look over them – it would run from a few hundred to a couple of thousand Galleons, depending on if you hire an Apprentice or a Master Warder. Or if you add a little blood, they might hold for another dozen years. Illegal, of course." He looked expectantly at Harry, as if waiting for a reaction.
"I'm not going to do anything illegal with you standing right there. Besides, Professor Babbling says that saliva works just as well to renew runes if the touch of your magic alone isn't enough." Harry licked a fingertip and traced over the runes, pushing his magical intent into his hand as best he could as he did so. You couldn't re-carve or change runes, but you could boost the power of their initial intent somewhat with regular maintenance. This was just a patch job, however, especially with Ministry restrictions that meant he wasn't able to use his wand out of school.
After Harry was finished, Snape leant over and tapped the runes with his wand to seal them with a touch of magic. "Professor Babbling spouts the Ministry-approved line. Saliva is weaker than blood, which is weaker than a sacrifice. The power fades very quickly with just saliva. Also, do try and keep in mind that I am about to witness you celebrating Lughnasadh, so any concerns you have about the risk of me witnessing you doing something illegal are farcical at this point."
"I don't even understand why it's illegal," Harry said, ignoring the criticism. "Lughnasadh, that is. I mean, I get that people worry about the sacrifices. But the Old Ways aren't all like that, and we kill animals all the time to eat anyway. Can't the Ministry just make any really bad stuff illegal and leave the rest of it alone? And since it's mostly pure-bloods who celebrate it, and there's lots of them in the Ministry, why isn't the Ministry in favour of the old Druidic traditions?"
They wandered down the drive, and Harry detoured to a bramble patch to harvest some ripe blackberries while Snape watched and waited.
"Good questions. Technically celebrating the quarter-festivals isn't illegal but most of the traditions associated with them are. No sacrifices, no offerings – not even fruit or grain offerings are permitted. One may not empower any Circles that have magic on them that might be harmful to Muggles or indeed to anyone else. No-one may worship Magic as any kind of sentient or semi-sentient force. Propitiation of spirits or ghosts, no matter how innocuous they might be, is of course strictly forbidden. Nothing to induce trances. I think that is all. Oh, and most of our songs are banned."
"It doesn't sound like that leaves much out. Ouch!" Harry cried, as he scratched his hand on some thorns while reaching for a clump of particularly tasty-looking glossy dark berries.
"You are legally restricted to bonfires, dancing, and feasting, mostly," Snape admitted, casually casting a wordless Episkey to heal Harry's scratches. "If you are ever caught, be sure to limit your story to your gathering being some kind of 'outdoor party', and that you are shocked to hear it has coincidentally fallen on a special date.
"Now, as to why our traditions are so comprehensively banned in the first place. It has, of course, to do with a clash of religious beliefs first and foremost. The influence of Muggles and Muggle-borns is notable in that respect, through their centuries of Christian evangelism in our society. Some would have you blame it entirely on them, pointing to their ever-increasingly numbers immigrating into our society, pushing their Muggle ways on the world with an air of righteous superiority. However, that would be neither fair nor accurate. For there are also many 'Light' pure-blood families that have been Christian for generations, wielding their influence against blood-loving Druidic believers at every opportunity.
"Political beliefs also play a strong role – you also have to keep in mind that many wizards are monarchists at heart. Most people bow to the Queen's right to rule even when they may disagree with her decisions. It's a tradition of respect dating back to King Arthur."
Harry interrupted to ask, "But we elect the Minister democratically, right? They're not appointed by the Queen, we vote them in – well, everyone who has the right to vote does. Don't a lot of people favour a Roman-style republic – is our government more like that?"
Snape looked at him curiously. "There is a veneer of democracy to placate the Muggle government and the hoi polloi. The Wizengamot works much like the House of Lords and has done so for centuries. Or perhaps a more powerful version thereof, as it wields both legislative and parliamentary power in our society. Active members act as a jury for trials of major crimes, with the Chief Warlock as the judge. As an institution it is an oligarchy stuffed with the Heads of Houses, with only a few token positions left for others. The Minister is appointed by popular vote from cives class citizens, but the candidates for elections are put forward by the Wizengamot. Once elected, he or she is officially a Minister of the Queen and reports to her on our bloated Ministry's continuing efforts to maintain the Statute of Secrecy, however, the Muggles delegated that task away from her to the Prime Minister some decades ago.
"While a fair number of the more Traditionalist families are monarchists, the Light and unaligned families almost always are. Many see Queen Elizabeth as the descendant of King Arthur. Some wizards and witches love her, while others hate her, for being a good, Christian queen. She is at least a less active meddler than her forebears, and thanks to… various influences, the past fifty years have seen a great reduction in direct royal and Muggle governmental influence on our society.
"Her great-great-grandmother Queen Victoria was a notorious inveterate meddler, and most insistent about the suppression of the evil Dark traditions in favour of Christian ethics, and more pandering to the Muggle-born joining our society. Of course, historically some monarchs were even more oppressive, such as Charles the First."
"Are many wizards and witches Christian? I hadn't really noticed anyone being especially religious?"
"The Christmas tree at Hogwarts wasn't a hint for you?" Snape asked with raised eyebrows. "The Dumbledore family all is, of course. McGonagall, Flitwick, Burbage – many of your teachers. In the Ministry and Wizengamot there are the Light families like the Houses of Fudge, Abbott, Bones, Prewett, Smith, Weasley, Moody, and Jones."
"I once asked Percy what he believed in – he's always seemed very traditional with etiquette and stuff, so I was trying to discreetly find out if he was a Traditionalist. He told me that he doesn't believe in anything much. His family used to go to church when he was very young, but when his uncles were killed in the war his mother was angry at God and had a crisis of faith."
Snape just nodded at that and looked broody.
As they meandered through the grounds, Harry pulled out his new golden sickle to cut a piece of ivy vine, since he'd included it successfully in his last offering.
"Is that for an offering?" Snape asked. "Ivy isn't very traditional, though I don't see any harm in it."
"Yes, sir."
Snape nodded. "Do you have the other necessary supplies? Bread, wine, fruits, wheat stalks? What are your preferred traditions?"
"I do a circling ritual around a lesser Circle on the grounds – it's based off things I read in The Decline of Pagan Magic and some talks with Pansy. I also chant a song from The Knights of Walpurgis. Then I make a harvest offering, again that's based off Bagshot's book, plus some advice from uh… someone. I'm open to suggestions of new things, but that all worked well for me last year, so I was planning on keeping things the same."
Ambrosius had talked with Harry about the Old traditional offerings to make for various celebrations. Lughnasadh ideally should be an offering of bread you'd baked yourself, but any bread or grain-based food would do in a pinch, plus vegetables, herbs, or ripe fruit harvested from your own lands. Something that celebrated the bounty of the earth you cared for. The blackberries would make up his main offering, and Dobby had baked him a bread roll at Potter Cottage and popped it over to Longbottom Manor that morning for Harry to use in his ritual. Harry would have liked to have baked something himself, but he wasn't allowed in the manor's kitchen by the passive-aggressive orders of the Longbottom house-elves, and he didn't want to upset them.
"Where did you obtain a copy of The Knights of Walpurgis? I was not aware you owned that book. You certainly didn't find that in the Hogwarts library."
"The Malfoys – it was a birthday gift last year. Is it restricted?"
"Very much so. Lucius took a great risk there."
Harry stopped dead in his tracks in the middle of the woods and turned to his former teacher. "What am I missing? It has a few traditions listed, and it's very critical of the government. Is that enough to see it banned?"
Snape gave a twisted smile. "It's the author. Didn't you know? No, of course you didn't."
"The author's anonymous…" Harry trailed off, a worried frown creasing his face as he thought of the very limited possibilities for a contentious author. Unless it was by Grindelwald, there really was only one other likely candidate.
"The author is the Dark Lord," Snape said, confirming Harry's unspoken guess. "He called his followers the 'The Knights of Walpurgis' for a while as a young man in the fifties, before changing the name to 'Death Eaters' in later years when political machinations didn't yield all the results he'd wanted, and his campaign became more overt and violent."
Harry let out a loud huff of breath. Just what he'd thought. "Great. Just great." He resumed walking, with a lot more stomping and crunching through the underbrush this time. "Geez. I just can't get a break. Lucius is giving me recruitment literature."
"Unwise of him, one might think. What shall you do, now that you know?" Snape asked carefully.
"I don't know," grumped Harry. "Nothing, I guess."
"Even despite… his allegiances?"
Harry sighed. "Everyone already knows he was a Death Eater once, and his defence otherwise is already doubted – how would my accusation make a difference? I can't accuse him of anything bad except giving me a book, and that's not illegal. Is it?"
"It is, actually. Or at least it was… perhaps it is not any longer, if the laws have been quietly changed, though I think they have not. For until recently Dumbledore presided as Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, and he would not have approved such a change. During the last war it was illegal to try and recruit for the Dark Lord. You could make a case against Lucius, should you wish to, Potter. An accusation from a minor wouldn't carry much weight, but with your name and your of-age allies you could see it pushed through to the Wizengamot for a formal trial overseen by Chief Warlock Thicknesse. Lucius' vaults and influence would probably get him off, however," Snape explained, "unless you have credible witnesses who saw him handing you the book, or talking to you about the Dark Lord's cause, or you're prepared to testify under Veritaserum about your gift. Ideally some combination of those would be required for a comfortable expectation of success."
Harry shook his head. "I think technically the gift was from Draco. It was owl-delivered at night, so no witnesses. Draco wrote that his father thought I might like to read it."
Snape nodded. "Cunning. Young Mr. Malfoy might get in more trouble than his father should you try to make something of it, and Lucius can plead ignorance of the gift, or shock at his words being so misinterpreted when he really was doing was just musing aloud that you might want to study the works of your family's enemy, one day. To better understand your parents' noble fight."
Harry scowled. "I thought Draco's dad cared about him."
Snape blinked. "He does – a great deal in fact. I doubt he would actually sacrifice his son for his own self-interest. I was simply outlining a couple of possibilities and pointing out that with enough bribes and his silver tongue spreading around blame to a minor who can't be charged for an 'honest mistake', he could make the charge against himself disappear."
"Oh."
Thoughts awhirl, Harry suddenly realised why Quirrell – Voldemort – had always liked to call him his 'Gryffindor Knight'. He was still worrying over what the Dark Lord must think of him as they arrived at the small Circle of standing stones.
"Wake up Ssstorm, we're here," he hissed, reaching in to his satchel to withdraw his sleepy pet. Though from Storm's point of view perhaps it was he who was the pet. Or perhaps some kind of combination of servant and friend. The fetcher of meals and the reliever of boredom.
"Do you think Lucius is a Death Eater again? Is he a danger to me?" He also wanted to ask the same of Snape but didn't dare.
Snape gave Harry a sharp glance, and Harry avoided eye contact, just in case of any attempts at Legilimency. "For the first part, I really couldn't say. However, for what it is worth, I honestly do not believe he poses any risk to you at the moment. Quite the opposite, as I believe he holds you in some esteem."
"Thank you, sir," Harry said, with a nod of gratitude for the advice.
"I don't know what to do, now. About my planned ritual," Harry admitted to Snape. "It feels all… ruined. Tainted."
Snape hesitated a moment, then said, "If it is of any comfort, remember that the traditions the Dark Lord wrote down predated him by centuries. He merely recorded them, without imposing any significant alterations."
Harry smiled. "It helps a lot, actually. Thank you again. What are your own traditions?"
"Very similar to yours, I think. I circle around an offering of bread, wine, and fruit on an altar on the earth. I also weave a sunwheel to offer on the altar – a tradition which you seem unfamiliar with – while last year's sunwheel is buried in the earth. I sing the 'Wheel of the Year' song-"
"I know the words, but not the tune," Harry interjected. "What's a sunwheel?"
"I would be happy to teach the tune to you, if you wish. A sunwheel is a wreath fashioned of some natural material such as stalks of wheat or grapevines, often with a star woven inside its circumference. It calls us to remember the cycle of life – the turning of the seasons and the unending circle of celebrations that mark them. It evokes the sun that nurtures, and the bounty and magic of the earth. When a House celebrates both masculine and feminine aspects of life in a ceremony led by a priest and priestess, the sunwheel represents the masculine while a corn dolly represents the feminine. It is a very ancient practice – decorative corn dollies have been found in Egyptian tombs."
Snape spent a moment teaching Harry the tune to go with the lyrics he'd already memorised, then the two of them worked together weeding the Circle. Snape seemed surprised Harry was using a golden sickle for such a relatively mundane task but aside from advising him on proper cleaning methods for gold implements, he didn't offer any overt criticism of its employment. Instead, he made small talk, asking about Harry's plans for his studies in the coming year. Snape seemed pleased when Harry promised he'd be aiming to do the best he could in almost everything, with the exceptions of History of Magic (which Harry regarded as pointless under Professor Binns) and Astronomy. He would be aiming to get Exceeds Expectations in both those classes. Snape encouraged Harry to try for a top grade in Astronomy too, and Harry agreed to think about it, even though it would be a big jump up from his consistent Acceptable grade.
"Am I invited to join your Circle today?" Snape asked as they continued working side by side. Snape didn't seem to have come well-prepared for gardening but had a small silver knife he was using to trim back some weeds.
"I'm not sure. What does that mean?" Harry checked cautiously. "What would the consequences be?"
Snape tutted disapprovingly at his ignorance. "You should already know this, Potter. I'm asking whether as the host – for despite your youth and inexperience that is what you are – you are wanting me to be a participant today, or an observer. It carries no obligation or ramifications beyond that. Perhaps a certain non-binding social expectation that on any future visits I would most likely be treated similarly – that is all."
Harry thought for a moment. "Participant, I think." He trusted Snape, but there was no reason to be silly about it. If Snape participated, he wouldn't have any grounds to later try and blackmail Harry over anything he witnessed, for he'd be just as guilty as Harry.
"Be thou welcome in this Circle," prompted Snape, and Harry obediently echoed him.
Storm burrowed into the earth in search of an interesting rock to contribute to the altar, while Harry and Snape laid out their offerings on a cloth in the middle of the Circle. Harry's beeswax candle from Longbottom manor took pride of place in the centre of the arrangement.
Storm returned after a little digging with a rough pebble of dull white quartz pushed ahead of him out of the ground with his snout, and his apology that he couldn't find anything better. "It is not as ssspecial as the last rock I found, but it is a very nice white rock," he said. His words sounded confident, but his uncertainty leaked through in his tone.
"It's a lovely rock, what a good choice!" Harry reassured, picking Storm up to place him atop one of the sunnier boulders in the ring. "Thank you so much, Ssstorm. It's a wonderful offering."
Returning to speaking English, he said to Snape, "Time to circle, I think. I travel deasil and touch each of the menhirs as I go to offer them some of my magic. Then I kneel in front of the altar with my hands on the ground as I chant."
"Obviously," Snape said, with a note of impatience in his voice.
Little fairies emerged from the trees to alight on the stones, chittering happily as the two wizards circled the ring of stones. Storm optimistically snapped at one fairy that tried to land on 'his' rock (but missed it), and it wisely chose a different rock to bask on. As Storm had eaten only a day ago, he wasn't hungry enough to exert himself in pursuit of the fairies.
At the end of their procession, Snape – not having any restrictions on wand use – lit Harry's candle with a silent flick of his wand. Harry knelt on the ground and Snape joined him more gracefully, with a careful flick of his robes to ensure they lay tidily that spoke of long practice.
Harry put his hands on the earth in front of the cloth altar with their combined offerings and sent his magic into the earth as they sang together:
"The Wheel of the Year turns,
Dark to light, light to dark, the seasons turn,
And the time of harvest is upon us again.
With food am I blessed, with food do I flourish,
The bounty of the earth.
Food I offer, grown, harvested, and prepared with my own hands,
The bounty of the earth.
Blessed be the earth,
Blessed be the sun that warms it,
Blessed be the magic that empowers it.
On Lughnasadh, this day of earth, may Magic accept my offering,
May Magic bring blessings to my household, land, and crops."
He watched with expectant focus and the candle tipped over just like last year to burn up their offerings, which seemed to startle Snape slightly.
"That was lucky," Snape murmured. "Usually you only get that effect with a larger gathering or more… experienced participants."
"It happened last year too," Harry said, with a look of slightly smug satisfaction.
"Perhaps it is the location," mused Snape. "We are on your ancestral lands tied to your name for generations, and inside a small Circle. That surely helps – magic will flow strongly here. You might not get the same responsiveness from a ritual performed elsewhere."
Harry nodded. That made sense.
"Any other business or questions before we depart?" Snape asked. "I suppose you must not have many opportunities to ask questions of a senior druid."
"Now you mention it, yeah-"
"Yes," corrected Snape.
"-Yes please, I do have some questions," finished Harry. "Why do some people talk about druids or priestesses, or the 'Old Ways' or 'Traditionalists'? Why do the names change for everything, and why are there so many different rituals?"
"Well, one could blame it on our ways being driven underground, but in truth the practices and names for them have always varied since time immemorial. Take Lughnasadh, for instance, which has an Irish origin and references the wizarding hero Lugh. Almost everyone celebrates a harvest festival around this time of year, but the details vary, and it isn't always called by that name. Some call it Lammas, and for them it marks the end of the hay harvest. Adherents in those traditions will often have a strong focus on making offerings of bread and weaving sunwheels and corn dollies. Meanwhile, those pure-bloods of Welsh ancestry are more likely to celebrate Calan Awst, and there's a rather amusing tradition of chasing a sheep or lamb around a paddock – the one who catches it is regarded as being destined for a particularly lucky year. They also get to keep the sheep."
Harry snorted with laughter, as he imagined the dignified Lucius Malfoy dashing across a muddy paddock in his fancy white robe, trying to catch a recalcitrant sheep.
"Others may skip the quarter festivals entirely, in favour of recognising only the solstices and equinoxes. The Malfoys celebrate all of them, you may have noticed. Also, those Ancient families who lay claim to Ancient Roman origins are more likely to practice animal sacrifices as part of any celebration, and practice haruspicy."
Harry nodded. "And it's all an offering to Magic basically, isn't it?"
"That is more or less correct. One makes offerings to Magic, to the land. To enchant the land we live on and make it a fertile place for magic to flourish. To enrich the ley lines – the currents of magic in the earth. It is to enhance ourselves, too. Some say wizards and witches are inherently superior magical beings – for while the lesser magical creatures and beings are dependent on magic for survival, we can live without it. Others argue that we don't flourish as well in its absence and are thus no different in that respect than magical beasts. That it is simply a matter of respective degrees of resilience, not an inherent difference in our natures."
"What do you think, sir?"
Snape hesitated a moment. "I think we need it. I think we feel less than our fullest, best selves when away from magic. To give magic back to the land, which empowers us too – it's a circle, do you understand? One we must play our part in supporting. Some of us believe it has weakened us as a people, to deny the earth and our protective spirits their rightful due of magic and sacrifice. Rumour has it that the Chinese are often the longest-lived and most naturally talented of all the magical peoples of the world, and that it's because they never stopped their offerings to the land and to ancestral spirits, or their cycle of lunar festivals at sacred sites. The Emperor demands it of every citizen of the secluded Divine Land of the Middle Kingdom."
Harry nodded thoughtfully. "Storm doesn't like it in Muggle areas. He says it's… cold, and dull. He likes to bask wherever the magic is strongest – he loves the stones here." He pointed over at where his happy pet was still lazily coiled on top of a sunlit standing stone. "I don't really notice a difference, to be honest, though I do like being at Hogwarts."
Harry thought that the Chamber of Secrets was one of his favourite places, but that might be more about it being his super-secret safe retreat, rather than any inherently high magic in the area.
"Storm is wiser than many humans, and you may tell him I said so."
Harry dutifully did so.
"He is a wise Clever-man," Storm said. "Ask him if he likess sssnakess."
"He's the former Head of Ssslytherin House, if that helpss establish his good character," Harry said, amused. "But he's left the school now."
"Then I like him."
"He says he thinks you're wise too, and he likes you because you were the Head of Slytherin. He wants to know if you like snakes."
"Ahh, the loyalty of serpents," Snape said, with a small smile. "Yes, I like snakes. They know how to look out for themselves. I read Storm's interview in The Quibbler. It was nice to hear he favoured my House over Gryffindor for the Cup. He must be a good influence on you in quelling some of your more unwise leonine impulses."
"You read The Quibbler?" Harry asked in amazement. He liked Luna and her father, but their magazine was a rather strange jumble of dubious articles on cryptozoology, unsubstantiated wild gossip, and crazy conspiracy theories.
"Only idiots read the Prophet for anything other than entertainment value or to stay informed as to what the latest propaganda is saying."
"Hermione and Sirius both read the Daily Prophet every morn…" Harry trailed off at the smirk on Snape's face, and scowled. "They're not idiots! The Malfoys read it too, you know. It's got better news than The Quibbler!"
"Come," said Snape, ignoring his objections. "It is time to go."
A/N:
Guestramita1996 – A tiny snippet here briefly looking at why Neville's not keen on the Old Ways.
EssayofThoughts, Twyla, and the Accuracy in Fiction FB group – Thanks for the information and brainstorming about various Welsh and pagan traditions.
kuonji – Thanks for spot-checking the information about China.
