"So how does it feel, being a woman now?" Ginny got on her knees and bowed down in mock supplication to Luna.
"I feel very old and wise, thank you very much," Luna preened, pretending to straighten a crown on top of her head and holding out her hand for Ginny to kiss.
"Why of course you do, madame. It won't be long before you are of marriageable age, you know," Ginny's lips grazed Luna's fingers.
"Indeed. I daresay it will soon be time for me to be swept off my feet by some eligible young man. I'll have to give up childish things like my education and…and having friends," Luna's feigned deeper voice cracked as she struggled to maintain her stately comportment.
"And playing make believe, dear lady?" That made them both erupt in giggles, and Luna was soon doubled over with laughter, crouching over Ginny, who was still on her knees. They helped each other to their feet while still chortling and wheezing. The soft afternoon light dappling the leaves of the ancient trees overhead calmed them, and the girls began to catch their breath. The only sound for miles was birdsong and the gentle wind rustling the stalks of wheat in the fields and tickling the ends of their hair. Luna felt her heartbeat begin to slow. She and Ginny's chests rose and fell in unison as they recovered themselves.
"So, will this grand fairground do for the most illustrious of ceremonies?" Ginny, still committed to the game, made a flourishing gesture at the meadow, edged on one side by trees and the other by the fields. But Luna grew thoughtful, all traces of laughter slipping from her face. It was an illustrious ceremony, and she had selected the location carefully.
"Yes, I think so," she said, a dreamy air slipping over her face like a veil, "Here, let's mark the outer circle with garlands. The girls in the outer circle will stand just outside the garland, and the inner circle will stand between the garland and the fairy ring. We ought to be careful not to disturb the mushrooms, though, it's very bad luck."
"Oho, the inner circle? Is that where your fondest admirer and closest friend will stand, my lady?" Ginny asked with another low bow.
"Well, the inner circle is for those who have bled," Luna reached into her mokeskin bag and pulled out several strands of garland she had woven with fragrant herbs and flowers for the occasion.
"Ah, the traditional blood sacrifice! Surely all of us in the most noble and ancient Circle are used to that," Ginny took a garland from Luna and began laying it down rather roughly on the ground to mark the outer circle.
"Not the usual type of blood sacrifice. No cuts necessary! You just need to have leaked blood from your private parts. You know, the rite of womanly passage," Luna sensed something bitter in Ginny's voice, and adopted the mock supercilious tone again in an attempt to cushion the blow.
"After Hogwarts was such a massive cock up, I thought we'd never do anything without each other again. But here you are, younger than me and already a fine lady! What does that make me, your humble servant?" Ginny's laugh was short and humorless, but she gestured to herself with an exaggerated flourish as if she were still playing make believe.
"I'm only a few months younger than you," Luna reminded her, gently wresting the garland from her friend's hands. She began arranging it with more care, bustling it so the flowers were positioned at the most advantageous angle.
"So does this great rite of womanly passage hurt?" Ginny gave up on helping and sat down some distance away, ripping clumps of grass out of the ground with her fists.
"Only a little. The cramps beforehand hurt more," Luna answered truthfully and in her normal voice, still pensive and distracted. She turned away from her friend and began rooting around in her mokeskin bag.
"Honestly, the most annoying part is trying to remember to collect the blood every few hours…" she trailed off, pulling from the cavernous depths of her pouch a small bottle of milk, a saucer, and a morsel of day-old bread. She unstoppered the bottle and filled the saucer with milk, resting the bread on the rim of the plate before placing the offerings in the center of the fairy ring of wild mushrooms. The white, gray, and brown caps sprung out of the grass like so many fairies swirling their skirts while dancing a reel. Much as Ginny teased her, Luna desperately wanted the ceremony to go well, and she would do anything in her power to have the favor of the fairies, goddesses, and any other creature who would deign to bless a young girl's first bleeding ceremony.
"Ah, but surely that's not typical for most young maids! Only young ladies who join a blood magic cult must fuss with vials thus, and add their menses to their tea and potions!" Ginny strained to stay in character, but there was something hard and bitter in her voice.
"It's not a cult," Luna had grown tired of this game of make believe, and no longer felt inclined to humor her friend, "But yes, I suppose so. I wonder if the original witches of Peloresow collected their monthly blood," Luna pondered. None of Ginny's jesting could shake her out of her thoughtful mood, and she felt herself determinedly clinging to her dreamy eccentricity because she knew it would annoy Ginny as much as Ginny was annoying her.
"Well, pain and blood aside, I'm sure the worst part must have been Mrs. Figg being the one to notice it first. Merlin, I can't imagine," Ginny tried a different tact, getting up to nudge her friend conspiratorially between the ribs.
"You shouldn't make fun of her. Could you get the cauldron set up? I want it somewhere in the inner circle, between the garland and the fairy ring, but I want it to be lined up as best as possible with the full moon."
"Oh, come on. I don't mean anything by it. You know I love Mrs. Figg, but even you have to admit she's a bit absurd," Ginny imitated Mrs. Figg's high-pitched voice. She took the cauldron from Luna and plopped it on the ground while Luna looked at the sky, trying to calculate moonrise.
"I was actually thinking of asking her to read the rites during the first bleeding ceremony. A little back and to the left, please," Luna motioned to her friend to adjust the cauldron.
"What? But she's a Squib!"
"And what of it? She'll be in the inner circle because she's had her first bleeding, just like the rest of us. Besides, like you said, she was the one who was there with me when my bleeding began. I want to honor that. And even if she can't do any magic…any that we know of, anyway, it doesn't mean she's less a part of the Circle."
"Huh? Luna, I know you get a kick out of being a bit daft, but she's a Squib. Of course she can't do magic. What are you on about?"
"Listen, Gin. Right before she saw me bleeding, Mrs. Figg was telling me that she thinks there's a chance she could have some magical abilities she might be able to unlock some day. She was saying that's why she tries so hard in all the Circle meetings, on the off chance we can help her do magic. I mean, we've already discovered new types of magic. Who's to say we won't find a way for her to do magic too?"
"You shouldn't get her hopes up, Luna. It's cruel. Squibs are constantly being told that someone or other has found the miracle cure that will unlock their secret magic, or whatever. Maybe Mrs. Figg should just accept what she is. She can still be in the Circle, of course. But if you string her along like this, she's just going to get her heart broken."
"But she was telling me what it's like to be a Squib, how she's basically spent her whole life being an outcast, and hoping and praying she can do magic one day. Can you blame her for wanting that?"
"I don't blame her. I'm telling you not to make promises you can't keep." Ginny's brow furrowed and her brown eyes blazed, all traces of false levity tinged with jealousy gone. They had clearly come to an unspoken truce in whatever bizarre battle of wills they had been engaged in.
"I didn't make her any promises. But even if we don't find a way for Squibs to use magic, I don't think they should be treated as second class citizens!"
"I agree with you there," Ginny raised her hands palms out, shielding herself from the accusation in Luna's words.
"She was saying that Squibs get treated like dragon dung by the whole world, even their families!"
"What, like that's news? Pretty much the whole wizarding world would rather be born a Muggle than a Squib. Just go ask my mum's cousin. I think his name is Bertrand. Or Bartholomew?"
"Does your mum have a cousin who's a Squib?"
"Yeah, he lives in Essex and is a Muggle arithmancer or something," Ginny shrugged, fiddling with the cauldron.
"Why didn't I know you had a Squib in your family?"
"Well, I've never even met him. The Prewetts and Weasleys pride ourselves on being blood traitors, but even we don't quite know what to do with a Squib."
"Ginny, that's awful!"
"It's not like he's actually been disowned, he's just sort of…not really there. He does his own thing and we do ours. It could be a lot worse. Some of the Sacred Twenty-Eight used to send Squib children to Muggle orphanages, or even kill them."
"Morgana…" Luna was paralyzed with horror. A mosquito buzzed menacingly past Luna's ear and landed on her arm, but she barely noticed.
"Don't you have Squibs in your family? Dad says every family has one, and anyone who says they don't is just lying. Or hiding something," Ginny reached over to swat the mosquito away from Luna.
"I don't think so. I don't know, I guess. My parents haven't mentioned anything. They wouldn't hide it from me." Luna spoke with more certainty than she felt. If a family as loving as the Weasleys could neglect one of their own, Luna was sure it could happen to anyone. The Lovegoods weren't particularly close with her father's parents, and she had assumed everyone on her mother's side of the family was dead apart from Cressida's sister. Now that Luna thought about it, Mrs. Figg was the only Squib she had ever met in her life. Now she wasn't sure whether this was sheer coincidence, the product of a sheltered upbringing in the countryside, or the result of her parents' careful scheming.
"I'm definitely going to ask Mrs. Figg to read the rites at the ceremony tonight," she said with some determination, "It's only right. She was the first person to see my blood, and she's just as much a member of the Circle as any of us." Ginny nodded and they continued working in silence, setting out herbs and animal components that would be used in the ceremony.
"It's just ridiculous!" Luna exploded after several minutes, "Why don't we treat Squibs the same way we treat goblins and merpeople and centaurs? They're just as much a part of magical society, but they're not represented at all. No one even thinks of them."
"It's not fair," Ginny agreed, not even attempting to mollify her friend "But what would you have done about it? Have the Ministry set up a special commission for Squibs? Your mum and Fudge could cochair it!" She crowed, but Luna didn't laugh with her friend.
"Ginny, I'm serious. I'm just saying that maybe one day, when things are different, I want them to have a seat at the table. In the Circle. As equals."
"Well now that you're a woman, I suppose you'll be ten times more powerful. You'll be ruling the entire world by next week," the playful tone returned to Ginny's voice, but this time she had a small, sad smile.
"Yeah, maybe. That would at least be a good use of my power. Not just fussing with tapestries and crystal balls," Luna said with a rueful flick of the head in the direction of the Circle.
"Do you actually think having your monthly bleeding will make you more powerful?" Ginny asked.
"I'm not really sure," Luna shrugged, "I haven't used any of the blood yet. I'm saving it for the ceremony and something else." Ginny considered this.
"So what's actually going to happen at this ceremony? Other than fairy rings and a potion of some kind, and an inner circle and poor old Gin being left in the dust in the outer circle," Ginny tried to make her tone light again, but Luna could practically smell the vulnerability and hurt broiling just beneath the surface. Luna felt like a dolt. She certainly had not liked being left behind when Ginny went to Hogwarts without her, yet here she was teasing her friend about being left behind. Or rather, letting Ginny tease her without assuaging her friend's obvious anxiety.
"You'll see. I want it to be a surprise. But I wanted to ask you if you'd walk by my side when I go from the outer circle to the inner circle. To represent my friends staying by my side as I begin this next phase of my life.
"Heh, that sounds cheesy," Ginny scoffed, but she looked pleased.
"I mean, if you don't want to, you don't have to. I could always ask someone else. Maybe Lavender or Rania," Luna slipped gratefully back into their easy banter.
"I'm sure Caroline will be just thrilled when you ask her," Ginny retorted, but she elbowed Luna and smiled.
The first bleeding ceremony began at moonrise. The girls who had not yet bled formed a loose circle outside the boundary of the garland. Luna had adorned it with night-blooming flowers, which opened their petals and released their heady fragrance towards the heavens. The floral aroma mingled with the peppery scents of the herbs into a disorienting medley of sweet and spicy, earth and fire. The women and one or two of the older girls who had already bled stepped between the garland and the fairy ring to form the inner circle.
At the center of it all was the offering for the fairies. Milk and bread. The tender nourishment of the mother's breast. The warm, yeasty smell of fresh-baked bread in a sun-warmed kitchen. A gift to the fairies, but also a gift to and from women and mothers everywhere. An invitation to be nourished. A prayer not to the gods of men but to the little people who live close to the earth, the invisible, the forgotten.
Mrs. Figg's voice trembled. She was not a confident speaker and claimed she couldn't be trusted to memorize the rites, so read the words Luna had written from a sheet of parchment. They all repeated the words in the right places, their voices uncertain, sometimes stumbling over words they would eventually come to know so well. Words that would be said under so many more moons.
They blessed themselves and each other. They blessed Luna's body and spirit, and the bodies and spirits of each member of the Circle. They celebrated the change Luna's body was going through not as a weakness or a punishment, but as power. They all knew that power lay on the other side of pain.
Luna began the ceremony in the outer circle, pressed close between her friends, their bodies warming her in the cool night air. When the time came, Ginny gripped her by the arm and escorted her the few steps from the outer circle to the border of the inner circle. She gripped Luna's hand as Luna stepped over the threshold, the light of the moon illuminating the tears on her face and turning them into silvery streaks. Luna squeezed Ginny's hand before letting go and joining the women in the inner circle.
Each member of the inner circle added an ingredient to the cauldron, followed by a few drops of her own blood. The bubbling contents of the cauldron flashed purple with each new bleeding, until finally the only person who hadn't put her blood into the cauldron was Luna.
"Step forward, initiate of the Circle of Peloresow," Mrs. Figg intoned as solemnly as she could, but her voice still squeaked. Each woman put a hand on Luna and pulled her closer to the cauldron. They remained touching her as Mrs. Figg took out a knife and pressed it to the soft flesh of Luna's forearm.
"Do you consent to your blood being spilled to seal your pledge as a woman of the Circle?"
"I do."
"Do you vow to uphold the values of the Circle? First and foremost, do you vow to…to treat all whom you meet, witch, creature, Squib, and Muggle alike, with dignity and kindness?" Mrs. Figg's voice wobbled from more than just nervousness.
"I do."
"And do you vow to dedicate yourself to the pursuit of knowledge, the revival of the ancient and forgotten ways of women's magic, and the discovery and creation of magical arts yet unknown?"
"I do."
"And do you vow to approach all your undertakings in the Circle with a spirit of curiosity and generosity?"
"I do."
"And do you vow to support your sisters of the Circle and their own pursuits with the same spirit?"
"I do."
"And are you prepared to use the power of your own blood in the rites and magic of the Circle?"
"I am."
"And do you understand that true power only comes with true sacrifice? And that no sacrifice, not even a single drop of blood, is to be taken lightly?"
"I do."
"And…" Mrs. Figg paused and gave a small smile. The women and girls of the Circle began shuffling restlessly in anticipation of the final vow.
"And do you vow to safeguard the legacy of the original women of the Circle of Peloresow, to honor their work and sacrifice, and to preserve and build upon their traditions for all future sisters of the Circle?"
"I do."
There was a raucous cheer as Mrs. Figg laid down the parchment and pressed the knife into Luna's skin until she drew blood. Luna barely flinched. Mrs. Figg gently twisted her arm so a long trickle of blood coursed like a ribbon down Luna's forearm and into the cauldron. Violet steam swirled in tendrils that caressed their faces and lingered on their skin and hair like dew on early morning grass.
When the smoke subsided, an old metal ladle was produced and dipped into the potion. The first spoonful was dribbled carefully onto the fairies' plate. The next was given to Luna. The ladle was passed around to all the women of the inner circle, and then all the girls in the outer circle took a sip. The concoction warmed them from the inside out and made their fingers and toes tingle. Most of the girls and several of the women giggled, giddy with the physical manifestation of their bond, their promise to themselves and each other. The rest of the potion was carefully bottled and put away for future years, when it would be the first thing added to the cauldron at all future first bleeding ceremonies. Like a bread starter, passed down from generation to generation, used again and again in myriad different recipes, kneaded into different shapes, sometimes burnt, sometimes achieving perfection. Each iteration containing within it the infinite variations of multitudes of generations. All from the same source. The same blood.
They lifted Luna above their heads and walked her in a grand procession, cheering and toasting the raven queen, the newest woman of the Circle. The night had grown so dark that Luna could only see faint silhouettes of her sisters, tinged purple with mist and magic. Each reached out a fumbling hand to touch her in the darkness, slapping her on the back, squeezing her shoulders, patting her on the head, even kissing her on the cheeks. Appreciating and loving her body for what it could do and not for what it looked like. Tears filled Luna's eyes. For the first time in her life, she felt the reality of her mother's prophecy, the visceral joy and promise of it. And the faint hope that what her mother had Seen might come to pass after all, might already be coming to pass, right in front of their eyes, under this very moon.
As the Circle danced under the moonlight, they sang the words of the first women of the Circle with a reckless abandon until their voices cracked.
"For we art women."
"For we art women."
"For we art women!"
Luna had only been living at the Circle for a matter of months, but when she stepped through the fireplace of the Rook and surveyed the home of her childhood, it felt like she had been away for years. She tiptoed through the hallway towards the kitchen, trying not to alert her father to her presence. Much as she missed her father, she did not want this to turn into a social call and another Deathly Hallows research session. She could hear his faint clattering on the typewriter, muffled by the closed door of his study. Luna moved more quickly, slipping through the kitchen and out the back door.
Whereas the Rook had seemed unnaturally quiet and coated in a thicker layer of dust than usual in the absence of Cressida and Luna, the fields between the Rook and the Burrow were much the same as ever. The Devon sunlight felt different on her face and the birdsong was different than in Cornwall. She paused for a moment near the stream where she had selected her runestones, the same brook she had had the horrifying prophecy about Ginny and the diary. Luna allowed herself to gaze at her shimmering reflection in the rippling water for a moment before pulling away. No. No matter what Lavender said, she wouldn't allow herself to drown in the coming storm.
The rowan tree had seen another season since Luna and Ginny had last sheltered in its boughs. The white blossoms that the girls eagerly awaited every spring had come and gone, now wilted and crumpled on the ground. In their place were the crimson berries, the girls' snack of choice during the autumnal last days of summer. Luna popped a few in her mouth and tucked a handful into her pockets for later. She would share with Ginny, even though she was sure Gin would scold her for making a trip to the good old rowan without her.
But she wasn't there for berries. Luna reached into her pouch and retrieved her knife, which she usually only used to collecting her own blood. She found a sturdy old branch and slowly sliced off several long, thin cuttings. The blade quivered and strained, not quite strong enough for the task of cutting anything much thicker than flesh. Luna eventually gave the knife up as a bad job, dropping it to the ground and using her hands to roughly snap several small branches clean off the tree. The metallic sheen and blackened blood stains of her knife stood out sharply against the pure cream petals when she stooped to retrieve it.
Luna returned to the Rook and left as quickly and quietly through the fireplace as she had arrived. Once back at the Circle, she stole away to the laboratory, relieved to find it empty. She rummaged through several drawers in the cabinet until she found a small bundle of unicorn tail hairs. Luna closed her eyes and fanned them in front of her like a deck of cards, choosing one at random. She held up the strand she had selected and examined it. It was pure white, like the streak in her hair.
Luna spent several hours in the workshop, slowly whittling several of the rowan cuttings. When she had a rough shape she liked, she nestled the unicorn tail hair in the cavity she had hewn in the wood. Finally, she retrieved a small vial of blood, some of the blood she had saved from her very first bleeding. She closed her eyes and put several drops of blood on the tail hair before continuing to carve. Her crafting was somewhat smoother than the clumsy runestones she had made years before, but not by much. She whittled and winnowed until the wood was quite thin and she worried that carving more would expose the core, so she was forced to accept the current shape as its final form. She poured the last of the blood over the wood and rubbed it in like polish.
"Serve me well. Guide me. Work with the magic of my blood, and not against it," Luna whispered.
The wand hummed to life in her hand.
Author's Note: I want to take a moment to thank anyone who's gotten this far in this little fic of mine! I know my posting has been erratic and I worry that the quality of writing has varied drastically, so it means a lot that I have any readers at all. I've been working on this fic since 2016 and have had it as an idea in my head for longer, so to see it coming along is so special to me. I really enjoyed writing this chapter and I think it's one of my best ones yet, and I have a big twist coming up in two chapters, so I'm really looking forward to posting those!
I appreciate any hits and reviews that I get - it really, really helps motivate me, which has been a big problem when writing a fic as niche and strange as this. If you liked this chapter or have any ideas about what the twist might be, I'd love to see your thoughts in a review. :)
Thanks for reading!