Chapter 8 – They Awaken

C/W: Animal sacrifice (not graphic but is included), Character death

Author Note: This chapter is much longer than previous chapters. So much character development happens and new facets of magic needed to be set up. I couldn't find a proper break in this particular storyline without creating some sort of reading disconnect. Also, if you are so inclined, a couple of songs assisted in the development of this chapter. I recommend taking a listen while you read: "Running Up That Hill" by Placebo, "Circles" by Ludovico Einaudi, and "Haunted" by ADONA. If you really want to time it out, turn on "Divine Hammer" followed by "Roar of Saturn" by Audiomachine following mention of the magical tidal wave. I'm a sucker for operatic music and it sets the scene *chef's kiss* perfectly.

Also, Welsh is not my birth language. I attempted to make the translations as accurate as possible. If you speak Welsh and can provide a more accurate translation, I welcome those corrections. The English translations are in parentheses to assist in clarity and flow.

Lastly, thank you to everyone who has followed, favorited, and commented. I adore this fanfic writing adventure and all your wonderful encouragement has kept me chugging along. Much love - delphicpigeon

The snow crunched softly beneath their feet as they traveled wordlessly towards the Grove. The use of groves for had fallen out of favor with the creation of wands. Prior to wands, magic had been traditionally channeled through rituals completed within a grove or anything other piece of land that had a particular concentration of magic. The Malfoys' Grove had been a fountain of magic for centuries and was the source of the deep familial protection that surrounded their ancestral lands. Many a Malfoy weddings, historically known as hand fasting ceremonies, had taken place there. But Malfoy was sure that Granger already knew all this. In their early Hogwarts days when she wasn't blundering around with Scarhead and the Weasel, her nose had always been deeply embedded in a book. His father had always been particularly horrified that 'that disgusting Mudblood' had always beat out Draco in academic marks. Deep down, Draco truly hadn't minded. Granger was ridiculously intelligent and had displayed a natural talent for magic even Draco couldn't deny. If he thought about it, maybe that was what began his regression on his opinions towards non-Pureblood witches and wizards. He had always been told they stole magic, their magic was dirty, and other various forms of biased and hateful thinking. If their magic wasn't pure or was stolen, then how was Granger so prolific in her spellcasting? Hell, he had even heard rumors she could cast a fully formed Patronus. He could produce one as well but the form was always misty – never solid. He sighed and looked sideways at Granger. Her breath was coming out in small puffs against the dusky evening air. He realized she wore no cloak to protect against the wintry breeze. However, she showed no outward sign of cold. Her mouth was set in a determined line and her eyes were dancing around, drinking in her surroundings, and almost calculating. He briefly wondered what was going on in that head of hers, then she took a deep breath and tilted her head towards Draco.

"This isn't just a presentation. This is a ritual." She stated matter-of-factly, "I've read enough about magic to know that magic performed within a Grove is traditional magic and incredibly powerful. What exactly is this Malfoy?"

Draco blinked. He should have known she'd figure it out eventually. He had dreaded her reaction in finding out just what exactly he was escorting her towards. Draco was mildly relieved, for once, to have the mask covering his reaction.

"The Rite, Marked One. The Dark Lord wishes to initiate you into his fold. He honors you with this favor." He snapped, hoping Granger would not detect any note of concern.

Her steps faltered.

"The Rite?" her voice trembled, "Are you telling me that that psychopath is going to make me a Death Eater, like you!?" she ground out.

Draco flinched at the accusatory tone. He knew she was right. He was a Death Eater, no matter how much he hated it and he was bestowing the same fate upon her. Draco didn't think it was possible to loathe himself any more than he did in that moment. Her words just made it that much worse. He only nodded in response to her questioning, unable to form any words.

"You should have just let me die that day." She whispered, both deadly and heartbreaking in its sound.

Now it was Draco's turn to stumble in his steps.

"No."

It was all he could manage to croak out.

"No?! Is that all you can say Malfoy?" she whirled on him, disgust burning in her eyes, "Do you really hate Muggleborns so much that you'd rather let them suffer in such a ghastly way?" she cried.

Draco could only walk forward. His throat had gone dry and his stomach was threatening to vomit up hot bile. He tightened his grip on her hand and begin pulling to prevent her escape.

"You monster!" she sobbed, attempting to twist her wrist from his grasp. Her wound tore open and began weeping. Soon, blood had soaked through the white linen encircling her arm. She cried and fought as Draco continued to drag her forward.

"Please Malfoy," she begged, "Please don't do this."

So reminiscent of the words she had screamed when Bellatrix had cut into her.

Tears threatened to fall out of Draco's eyes. The only reason he had the strength to continue dragging Granger forward was knowing that tonight, she could be free. Severus's warning. His mother's cryptic words. He was terrified of how far the Rite would go before Granger was gone. He couldn't handle her pleas or her tears. She began to struggle even harder as the Grove came into view. Slowly, he pushed all his thoughts and feelings behind that wall in his mind and let the fog of disassociation settle over.

"I suggest you control yourself Marked One. This will be less painful if you don't struggle." He intoned, "He won't let you die, no matter how much you beg for it."

Hermione lessened her struggling, recognizing the resignation in Malfoy's voice. He was clearly speaking from experience. Tears continued to streak down her face, smearing the makeup that had been so carefully applied. In her struggles, strands of hair had escaped. Combined with the smeared blood of her wound, she looked wild and feral. She turned her eyes to the Grove and gave one final stuttered sob before entering the wall of ancient trees.

The Grove was a perfect circle of twelve ancient trees, each a different species: Ash, Beech, Birch, Cypress, Elm, Fir, Hornbeam, Linden, Maple, Oak, Pine, and Willow. Beneath each tree sat a stone, a different symbol carved deeply into them. An elevated platform sat in the center where Lord Voldemort stood waiting, a gleeful smile plastered across his tight features. Masked Death Eaters stood quietly on the perimeter of the circle, partially hidden in the shadows but for the gleam of their silvery masks. The moon had fully risen by now and was shining softly. Hermione could feel the soft pulse of magic emanating from the circle and coursing gently under her feet. Despite the thick concentration of Dark Magic that flowed out, the Grove seemed to keep the majority of it at bay. Despite her fear, this piqued Hermione's ever-enquiring mind. Voldemort's power was deep, dark, and hideous but the Grove appeared to be containing it. The Grove's magic didn't feel Dark, but it didn't feel Light either. It just simply was. She wept quietly as Malfoy escorted her over the circle's threshold and into the moonlight. She found it odd that none of the Death Eaters stood within the circle. She quirked an inquisitive brow towards Malfoy as he released her arm and walked away to join Narcissa Malfoy near the edge of the outer circle, under the Hornbeam Tree. Malfoy vanished away his Death Eater visage and stood stoically with a carefully blank expression. Mrs. Malfoy had a curious expression on her face, a mix between concern and terror. Hermione was surprised to find herself sadden that Mrs. Malfoy had chosen not to divulge the nature of Hermione's "presentation". She thought maybe Mrs. Malfoy would have a small spark of humanity or motherly concern for Hermione's safety. Hermione scowled, bitterly disappointed in herself for holding onto any shred of hope from members of the Malfoy family. For a moment, all was silent except the rustling of the many trees' branches.

"Marked One." Voldemort greeted, "Tonight we shall release the Most Dark and Ancient One and restore the magical world to its glory!" he proclaimed, a great sweeping of his arms encouraging rallying cries from the shadowed Death Eaters. The Malfoys stood by silently. Hermione was utterly confused. Hadn't Malfoy drug her here for the Rite? What on earth was Voldemort going on about? Was she a sacrifice for some magical being?!

"On this night, the full moon of Imbolc, I shall call forth the Most Dark and Ancient One and bind their terrible magic to me! With this magic, all dark prophecy shall be ours and the world shall cower at our feet. The Marked One bears the vessel symbol, she shall be the cauldron from which all magical knowledge shall flow." He shouted with a feverish and frenetic energy.

With a flourish of his pale hand, a solid block of black onyx appeared on the central platform. He beckoned Hermione forward. She violently shook her head and clenched her fists in a show of defiance. She wouldn't be complacent in her own sacrifice and Voldemort was mad if he thought she would willingly walk to that stone slab.

Voldemort let out a soft laugh.

"Either way, Marked One, you will be bound to me by the end of this night." His scarlet eyes gleaming in the light, "The ritual can begin without you." Voldemort began producing various objects and placing them on and around the stone.

Red candles appeared. The air suddenly smelled of cinnamon. A bundle of wheat appeared at the edge of the slab along with a small silver mirror and an elegant ceremonial knife Hermione recognized as an athame. A small black cauldron had also appeared below the onyx platform. Suddenly, the tiny bleat of a snowy-white lamb drifted across the Grove. She hadn't noticed it earlier. Hermione's heart lurched when she realized that the lamb was meant for slaughter, not her. She was horrified at the small breath of relief and begin dry heaving when Voldemort magically summoned it to the side of the platform. He inhaled and begin speaking:

I call upon the four corners. The four directions. The four elements.

On this day, the full of the moon pours as shall this sacrificial settlement.

Something must die so that something new and better can be unfurled.

To call forth the Dark Goddess of the Otherworld.

Voldemort repeated the chant two more times and as a thin silvery light begin to glow around the platform, Hermione felt something begin to crawl up her body. As she looked down, she was alarmed to see ropes tightening on her ankles, wrists, and legs. She struggled to shake the creeping bindings, refusing to cry out or show any weakness in front of these sadistic people. Voldemort paused and motioned to Malfoy.

"Draco, I will need your assistance for this next part of the ritual." He ordered, "Bring the Marked One to the altar."

Malfoy hesitated and briefly glanced around as if he was looking for someone. Hermione observed Mrs. Malfoy wordlessly moving her lips towards Malfoy.

No doubt urging him to finish the deed and rid them of this repulsive task.

Malfoy's pale eyes flashed before he slowly stalked forward and with a strength that surprised Hermione, swept her up in his arms and began carrying her bridal style towards the circle's center.

"How dare you!?" she hissed, "You vile, cowardly piec-", Hermione's words were abruptly stopped. She twisted her head towards Voldemort, who stood pointing his wand in her direction.

"We don't need your words, just your body and magic." He mocked, obviously enjoying the act of silencing her protests.

She struggled which caused Malfoy to only hold her tighter, his face illuminated as he crossed the line of silvery light near the altar.

"Stop struggling." He hissed quietly, his hot breath brushing over her ear, "You'll survive this and after tonight, you'll be free."

Hermione immediately stopped struggling in surprise.

Was he telling the truth or just saying that to get her to stop battling against his arms?

Unceremoniously, Malfoy dumped her onto the dark altar and stepped back. Her eyes rapidly switching back and forth between Malfoy and Voldemort. She had been here before. Her body bound, at the mercy of whatever cruelty Voldemort had in store, and no way out. Her body began to shake violently.

"Draco, you have crossed the threshold and therefore, are bound to the ritual." Voldemort's face contorting into some semblance of a smile, "You cannot leave until the circle is undone. You should be honored to witness firsthand the history we make here tonight." He cackled into the night and turned to resume the ritual.

Malfoy gave no response beyond a suffocated grunt and Hermione saw that his hands begun to shake slightly. Apparently, Malfoy had not known that Voldemort would trick him into this position. She gasped internally, realizing that Voldemort had intentionally caused Malfoy to walk willingly into the ritual and that he was just as trapped as she was. She was so consumed with watching Malfoy's reaction that she, mercifully, missed Voldemort draw the shining athame across the struggling lamb. Hermione squeezed her eyes shut as it gave a watery cry and fell with a final thump.

With this blood price, we shall summon the Dark Goddess poured forth from her cauldron,

With this grain of the Earth, we shall beckon the Most Dark and Ancient One to this chalice,

With this mirror, we provide a passage to her darkest realm,

With this willing son, we provide a consort on which to feast her malice.

Hermione thought her heart had stopped beating. Malfoy dropped to his knees at her side, shock plainly written across his increasingly pale features.

"My…My L-Lord?" he stuttered, "A consort?"

Voldemort turned to Malfoy's crumpled form, malice radiating.

"Yes, Draco," he replied smoothly, "This a binding ritual and a magical being of this magnitude requires a constant magical source to replenish her power. Your family pedigree spoke for itself. The Most Dark and Ancient One must have the highest quality magical feedstock. You were called "the Slytherin Prince" during your years at Hogwarts, were you not?" he questioned.

"Please, my Lord," Malfoy pleaded, "I am not worthy. I am no prince!"

Voldemort nonchalantly waved off Malfoy's pleas. Hermione's mind had gone blank, unable to understand just exactly what it was that Voldemort was insinuating. It was beyond comprehension. It wasn't happening. This was a nightmare she was desperately wishing she would wake up from.

"You have no longer have a choice." Voldemort sniffed, "You shall be bound to the Dark Goddess, allowing her to be bound to me through the Dark Mark. Now, we'll continue with the ritual."

Hermione had gone numb and was quite sure she had gone into shock once again. Her mind could no longer process the situation around her. She missed the words Voldemort began to chant, missed the sight of her magical scar beginning to glow, and missed the brush of liquid swirling across her skin in some tangible pattern. Suddenly, she felt the world shift.

Draco was still gasping for air following the Dark Lord's revelation when he was blinded by a flash of light followed by a magnificently powerful burst of magic that knocked nearly everyone to the ground. Concerned, he turned to find his mother on the ground as well, but she appeared to be unharmed by the tidal wave of magic. Her eyes went wide, and a fearful gasp fell from her lips. Draco turned to the source of his mother's terror and sharply inhaled at the sight before him.

Granger was floating above the altar, her bindings gone, and hands held out. Her hair and garments floated around her as if she were submerged under water. She opened her eyes but gone were those amber irises. In their place were deep pools of jet black, the whites devoured. A crown of floating stars had replaced the dark diadem that once graced her head. Her feet were dripping in a slick, black oil sizzling as it fell to the ground. Suddenly, her head was thrown back as if in agony and silent screams seemed to echo from her gaping mouth. The magical scar was still glowing brightly, marred by the river of blood flowing from her cursed wound. The numerous symbols the Dark Lord had drawn in sacrificial blood were glowing, etching themselves into her skin.

Draco could only gape at her. She was terrible and beautiful. Like a scorpion or viper, deadly but lovely in their form.

"Most Dark and Ancient One," he addressed the figure, "We have summoned you here to bring about the transformation of the magical world."

Granger, or the Most Dark and Ancient One, ended their silent screaming and tilted their head in Voldemort's direction. Hair swirling like smoke, partially obscuring their features. Sound flowed otherworldly from their lips, in a language that felt both unknowable and familiar. Several Death Eaters cowered at the power contained within those sounds.

Ni all unrhyw un fy rheo li. (No one can rule me.)

Fe'ch bradychir. (You are betrayed.)

Rhyddhau fi, gau broffwyd. (Release me, false prophet.)

The stone altar groaned and the magic in the air begin to visibly crackle. They lifted their arms and the Grove's twelve trees began to sway wildly. Blood continued to drip from their wound and the blood symbols on their body began slowing disappearing, one by one. Shadows began to rise and devour the Death Eaters, their scream of terror echoing around the Grove. Voldemort was attempting to throw curses at the drifting form. The being released a terrible laugh, a promise of doom. The silvery line surrounding the inner circle flickered out and another burst of magic surged forward.

"Draco!" cried Narcissa, realizing the ritual line had been broken. "Hurry!"

Draco scrambled to his feet and started running towards his mother, away from the frightening chaos behind him. Abruptly, the destruction froze. The being turned its dark gaze towards Draco.

"Draco." they breathed, reaching out a slender arm, "Minu armas. (My beloved)".

At their words, Draco roughly released his mother and was lifted upwards. The shadowy goddess moved closer, rippling like dark water. With a gentle flick of her wrist, tiny runes begin to shimmer across Draco's pale skin, similar in color to the one glowing on her wrist. Narcissa gaped at her son was lifted, terrified by the vision in front of her.

"What the bloody hell is happening!?" he screamed aloud.

"You are her consort!" Voldemort bellowed from behind Granger's form, "She has begun the binding and then the transformation is complete! Once those blood symbols fully absorb, I shall have my most powerful weapon and bring the magical word to a new order!" he began laughing manically.

A flash of movement interrupted Voldemort's gloating. A lone Death Eater had stepped forward holding an item covered in black cloth. Voldemort turned his attention to the figure, irritated. With a wave, the silver mask faded away.

"Severus," Voldemort warned, "Return to your place."

Snape ignored Voldemort's command and turned to the two drifting figures in front of him while slowly approaching the outer circle. Draco twisted his head while still observing Granger from the corner of his eye.

"Draco," he drawled, "What has started cannot be undone, but it is not final. Remember this."

Draco's brows drew down in confusion. He returned his attention to the magical being before him in alarm. She was nearly touching him, only a couple inches away, and his skin had started to prickle uncomfortably with the flow of magic dancing around her. Somewhere in the corner of his mind, he was fascinated. This magic was ancient, wild, and dangerous. It fed his magical core with an intensity that was dizzying. He knew he should be properly frightened, but he was more concerned about his status as some damned consort to Granger – goddess or otherwise. And what in Merlin's name was Snape doing? Was this the plan? How was Granger supposed to escape while she was possessed by some ancient magical being?

"Severus," Voldemort hissed once more in warning, "Do not breach the outer circle. You risk interrupting the ritual and risk your death for your disobedience."

Snape sniffed at Voldemort and stepped towards the boundary. He let the cloth drop away from the item he held. There was a ripple of sharp inhalation in the throng of Death Eaters and hushed whispering followed. Narcissa gasped, realizing what Snape intended. That was an Erumpent Horn. A volatile and highly explosive magical item. With that, Snape stepped into the outer circle – breaking the glowing line.

Voldemort howled in rage and wound to throw the Killing Curse when a high-pitched shriek echoed through the trees, stopping him mid-cast. Draco dropped to the ground just as the being's fingers were about to brush his hand, legs buckling beneath him. She had thrown back her head, a piercing cry emanating from her throat. Then as quickly as the sound came, it stopped, and she plummeted to the ground in a broken heap. A single blood mark remained visible on her bare shoulder.

Snape gave a curt nod towards Narcissa, who began scrambling towards Draco. She reached him and withdraw a familiar beaded bag along with a delicate brooch she had unpinned from her cloak.

"Draco," she whispered, stroking his disheveled hair, "Save yourselves. Everything you need is in this bag."

She handed him the platinum brooch, inlaid with a design carved in moonstone. It shimmered softly in the moonlight. Similar to Granger's mark, he thought offhandedly.

"This is a Portkey.", she explained, a tremor in her voice, "It will take you two to a safe house. He will not find you there."

Draco opened his mouth to protest when she silenced him with a finger to her lips. She gave him a weak smile as tears fell from her eyes. She looked up and gave a final nod to Snape.

"This is for Lily and the other lives you stole." Snape growled menacingly, "The witch had it right. You are betrayed."

With that, he wordlessly cast upon the curved horn in his hand. A blinding light illuminated the Grove and Narcissa barely had enough time to throw up a Shielding Charm over herself, Draco, and the unconscious witch's form.

"NOW DRACO!" she yelled over the din of the explosion, "TAKE HER AND GO!"

"I can't leave you Mother!" Draco cried, "I can't leave you with that monster."

"Draco listen to me," she ordered, "You two escaping is our best chance to survive this. We are Malfoys. We don't let opportunities go to waste – we seize them. Now, take the girl and leave!"

Draco hesitated before reaching for Granger, wrapping an arm around her waist. He took one last look around. The blinding light had receded to wild flame and Death Eaters were running aimlessly around the Grove while some laid on the ground, unmoving. Voldemort's shape was visible within the flames.

"PORTUS!" Draco shouted, a deep frown etched on his mouth as he and the slumped witch disappeared from the Grove.

Narcissa closed her eyes, knowing that for now, her son was safe. In a flash, all the flames were extinguished. Voldemort stood, looking around wildly at the chaos and destruction around him. He released a guttural roar upon realizing Malfoy and the marked witch were nowhere to be found.

Flashes of green light glittered through the trees and terrified shrieks resonated off the stones while the moon watched on, silent and serene.