Their waffling had taken them to the edge of the lake, where the moon reflected gently off the surface and the water lapped lightly against the edge. Ginny grasped the object in the pockets of her robe tightly, feeling it's comforting familiarity. A small wooden twig, stolen from one of the apple orchards in her youth, carved with well-worn marks in the 'handle.'
Ginny spoke first. "We come before the Black Lake, tonight on this night of balance. We recognize the equal night. We call upon the dísir, the women of our past, to protect us and to guide us."
A calm settled over Ginny as she stood, Luna's hand still clasped in hers. The lake before them was placid, her words echoing loudly into the space around them as the smell of fresh air and night time dew settled around her.
"We entreat the dísir, our dísir, to appear before us. We ask for guidance in our works as we venture forth to greater heights. We learn, we grow, and we ask for oversight."
Ginny felt on edge, waiting for a similar, familiar feel of buzzing magic to course through her, but it was as though they spoke to only the wind. A slight twinge of disappointment tightened her gut, and she resolutely ignored the shiver of fear she felt at the nape of her neck. This would work, it would, they didn't need to kill in order to sacrifice. Ginny wet her lips, then continued.
"Three things we ask for, and three things we give."
"Stay our hands from malignant works."
"Urge us onwards to greater heights."
"Bring calm to us in our hours of strife." The last line, they spoke in unison. With no pause, Luna continued their alternating lines.
"Three things we ask for, and three things we give."
"The toy of my childhood." Ginny tightened her knuckles, one at a time in a wave as she held Lunas hand. Her other hand fingered the twig held safely within her pocket. She hesitated, for only a moment, before she pulled it out. She swallowed heavily, before continuing
"Picked by my hand, carved by my mother. The false wand of a child, playing pretend. No longer do I indulge in fanciful follies, falling fell foes which do not exist in protection of my second self. Grown now, with a real wand, I treasure the reminder of my youth, filled with fantasies, dreams, good friends and cheer. I offer this to you."
Ginny stared at the pretend wand in her hand one last time. Felt its rough bark, and the smooth handle, well-worn from years of grasping it. She remembered the fond look on her mother's face as she begged with doe eyes to have it carved so she could "slay monsters with Harry Potter, and protect Luna." Recalled plucking it out of the apple orchard after a trip to Diagon Alley where she'd seen a real, professional toy wand, a practice wand, in the shops and had been told that they didn't quite have the money at the time to afford it. She remembered all the laughs, and smiles, and adventures she'd had with this simple twig grasped in her palm. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and pulled back before whipping her arm forward quick and sharp.
Her sacrifice, her blot, sliced through the night. A light fwip, fwip, fwip as it flitted quickly forward, dancing end over end, high into the sky and out over the lake. It fell just as quickly as it flew, hit the water's edge with a gentle plop. The moon was only a waning edge of light, and the water's surface was as dark as the space between the stars. The faux wand quickly disappeared, sinking under and into the gloom of the lake. Ginny could feel it's loss like a physical blow, a part of her childhood, gone forever.
"The token of friendships lost and regained." As Luna spoke, her hand tightened around Ginny's as well, until they were clasping so hard their hands must've been bone white. Her free hand drifted to her necklace, the one with the cork pendant, then pulled it over her head, and held it out, dangling from her fingertips. "Crafted by my hand, taught to me by my mother. On the eve of my unknown loss, happily did I make a talisman to ward off evil for my second self. Kept apart by powers outside our control, I treasure this reminder of our bond as it was; we have been reformed but cannot replicated. I offer this to you."
Luna stood for a solitary moment as well. Unlike Ginny, she stared intently at the cork necklace, instead of closing her eyes in remembrance. Ginny had to force herself to restrain her hand, her voice, her desire. She wanted to reach out to grasp the necklace. She wanted to shout out "It was meant for me, I want it, it's mine!" She wanted to proudly display Luna's necklace, let the world see their friendship and bond. She craved to have their old bond, the friendship of children with nothing to worry about, back in her life as an innocent and pure happiness.
But if wishes were swishes, even Muggles would cast spells
Luna curled in her fingers, lifted her arm above her head, and began to twirl her wrist. The cork picked up speed, slowly at first but gaining momentum, as Luna deftly, nimbly, forced the necklace to swing faster and faster. Ginny wasn't sure, but thought Luna might be holding her breath, so focused was she on the lake before her. Without warning, with no windup or suggestion, at the crescendo of the spin's speed Luna simply let go. The necklace soared. Out and over the lake, farther than it should have for something so light as a mere cork, it climbed slightly into the air, then cruised out in a gentle arc. Like her wand, Luna's sacrifice dropped gently, slowly losing altitude. Again, a gentle plop signaled its descent into the depths of the lake. Ginny was only lightly surprised to find that, even though it was made of cork and simple string, the necklace still sank quickly into the depths of the murky water.
"The sum of our earthly wealth." They spoke in unison, again, and Ginny's eyes drifted unconsciously to the pouch lying between them on the ground. It contained all of the Galleons Ginny had saved up over the last summer, in addition to what was left of Luna's allowance. She'd saved up most of her allowance throughout the year, and all of it was in the pouch, excepting for what little she's given to Fred and George for treats from Hogsmeade when Ginny had done the same, and the few Sickles and Galleons that had occasionally gone mysteriously "missing."
"Earned with our labor, gifted by the head of our house. All summer and all year have we scrounged and saved, and we pool it together now as a joint offering. All that we have, all material wealth, we give up to our ancestors. We give back what we have to those who have come before us. We eschew the material for the spiritual. We offer this to you."
As one, they unclasped their hands and reached down to pick up the pouch, each of them holding on to one of the leather drawstrings. It was heavy in Ginny's grasp, full to the brim with Galleons, Sickles, and Knuts. Given how numb Ginny's hand was from the tight grip she and Luna held on each other's hands, if the bag was any heavier it was likely to slip out of her fingers. She held tight, though, resolute as she and Luna swung the money pouch between them, back and forth one, two, three times. On the third swing, they let go of the pouch together, and it went sailing high up into the sky, before crashing down sharply into the lake. A heavy splash as it broke the surface of the water contrasted the faint sounds that had been made by their two personal sacrifices.
They stood there, side by side in the empty night, and Ginny strained all her senses for some semblance of recognition for their work. Unlike their earlier magical rituals, both the one she'd watched and the one shed participated in, Ginny felt no creeping energy, no powerful magic surrounding or filling her. For the briefest of moments, she felt doubt deep within her. A treasured childhood possession. A gift meant for her that she never received. All of those Galleons. Gone, and for nothing.
Before her melancholy truly set in, the water before them began to rise and change shape. Only, as Ginny watched, transfixed, she realized the lake was still placid as ever, only lightly lapping at the shore. A ghost was flowing upwards and outwards, rising out of the lake. Ginny had a brief moment where she almost let out a laugh; she thought it was Myrtle, come to question them. Any humor quickly died at her sight of the severe face of the ghost. A tall, dark haired woman, translucent in the moonlight, floated before them.
She stared down at them as they stared up at her. Narrowed eyes, pursed lips, Ginny had no idea who she was. She wanted to look to Luna next to her, to see if her friend knew, but the ghost's glare held her captive.
Her voice was as harsh as her visage. A sharp thing, filled with savage consonants and short vowels, it snapped like the tail of a manticore, dangerous and poisonous.
"Sacrifice? What have you of worth to sacrifice? Trinkets and baubles and coin." Ginny quaked beneath the ghost, fear running up her spine. The ghost couldn't do anything to her, she knew that, This was only a ghost, intangible and not truly there, but she couldn't comprehend it. Her feelings ran amok without her control, and all she could feel in that moment was distress to be caught by the most terrifying ghost she'd ever met.
"Blood." The woman whispered. "Sacrifice and blood are where power lie. Half is not enough, a dangerous thing to start and yet not finish. Worse, dísablót is a sacred holiday. To change a ritual holiday is no trifle, least of all one practiced for thousands of years, again and again by those more knowledgeable and powerful than you. Keen am I to let fate run its course, to let stupidity beget the disaster it courts and deserves. Yet I see a Raven among you two, so find myself compelled to act. Spill blood before the night ends, little seiðkona, or misfortune may cling to you like black clings to the night."
She stared at them, waiting for something, yet Ginny had no idea what to give the ghost. Fear held her like a vice, freezing her body while her mind ran ahead with a thousand thoughts on just how terribly they'd messed up. Luckily, Luna didn't seem to share her reservations.
"We thank you, Grey Lady. We shall take heed. We had prepared a binding ritual to become blood sisters this night; we shall complete it next." Overly formal and stiff, the words and cadence sounded wrong tripping out of Luna's lips. Calm, flowing, and melodic was Luna's regular cadence, and yet responding to the Grey Lady she sounded stilted.
"Good. You shall have to hope it is enough. From your folly already completed, however, I've no help to offer. In your workings the rest of the night, you may find yourself cursed, or blessed, or ignored if your sacrifice was deemed sufficient." She sneered, then, and Ginny couldn't help but think that Snape might have something to learn from her. "Let's see what your recklessness has wrought."
Ginny and Luna moved forwards cautiously towards the water's edge where the Grey Lady was gesturing them to. They both peered into the Black Lake, the water's surface living up to its name. Ginny stared deeply, wondering what she was supposed to be looking for, fear keeping her from giving up or looking towards the ghost. She stared, and stared, and stared, until she felt like if she stared any harder she'd fall right into the lake and be consumed by the cold black water.
Nothing happened.
She looked back up to see the Grey Lady floating there, watching them both intently. Luna looked relieved as she smiled up at the Grey Lady. "Luck, young Raven. Do not rely on it."
Perhaps Luna had felt something?
The Grey Lady turned her glare to Ginny, and Ginny could only duck her head. She hadn't felt a thing, that was certain.
The ghost pursed her lips. "Try the fire," was all she said, before giving them a sharp nod.
The pale woman floated back along the water, disturbing the face of the lake not at all as she moved across it. Fog rose from the lake, obscuring her pale, translucent visage until Ginny was no longer sure where the ghost ended and the fog began.
The two girls walked back in silence, feet leaden and steps heavy as the weight of their potential error hung upon them. As they approached their enlarged picnic basket, Ginny turned to Luna to apologize.
"Luna, I'm-."
"Well, it seems-."
They stared at each other for a moment, and tension broke as they both laughed lightly. "You first," Ginny gestured.
"It seems you were right to be worried. I shouldn't have pushed you so hard. You were the one who did the research, and if you had worries, I should have listened. I'm sorry."
"No!" Ginny gasped. "I'm sorry. I wasn't sure, and I told you it was probably fine. I did think it would probably fine. I should have been more careful."
"I guess we'll both just have to be more cautious in the future."
They paused for a few moments, just standing near each other. "Food?" Luna eventually said.
"Food." Ginny agreed. They tore into the food the house elves had prepared for them, bread and meat and butterbeer.
"You really didn't feel anything?" Luna asked as they ate. Ginny shook her head. "We should start a fire, and you should try meditating on that, like I did on the lake. The Grey Lady said it might help."
"Who was she, do you know?"
"Ravenclaw's house ghost."
"Oh. I'm glad you've such a helpful house ghost. Nick doesn't do much, he just moans about being only mostly headless, not actually headless, and how sad he is he can't join the headless hunt."
"That's truthfully the first I've heard her speak, to anyone. She normally just floats around acting morose."
"She didn't look sad to me, Luna. She looked angry."
"I think she was. Try the fire, you might know what I mean." Ginny rolled her eyes, but went about gathering some kindling and setting out an edge of stones to contain it.
"Incendio."
The twigs sparked into life, a crackling fire appearing from nothing, and growing fast. Ginny sat down, cross legged, butterbeer in hand as she stared deeply into the fire. She let her mind wander as she stared, allowing her focus to narrow onto the flickering flames.
It felt a bit like her daily meditations, like her mind was dancing along with the fire itself. She lost track of time as she stared. The maelstrom of emotions within her, all the things she'd been keeping at bay since their ordeal, they welled up within her. Fear of her failure's consequences, gratefulness to the ghost who warned them, fury at the ghost for not stopping them sooner, loathing of herself for being so stupid and prideful and daring in the worst sense of the word. So many more, so plentiful she couldn't name them all, they danced within her and threatened to overwhelm her.
She counted her breathing, like in her meditation exercises. Slowly, ever so slowly, her emotions calmed. They settled. The fire crackled, the distant sound soothing, as she watched embers jump and spark. As she stared into the flames she began to feel a sense of otherness. As she watched the flames play, she imagined she saw images within them. A lick of flame became a whip of hair, the visage of a face in the embers, the crack of the logs the sharp bark of a woman.
The longer she watched, the longer she let her mind wander. The harsher the heat became, the angrier the otherness bearing down on her felt. An undercurrent of desire strung through the anger as well, a greedy, capricious, hungry want that fueled the anger. She felt the moment it changed, the moment she became the center of attention for some alien otherness. A feeling of waiting, of incompleteness overcame her, a sense of urgency. She felt judged, and found to be just barely acceptable, but desperately wanting. She imagined the echoes of scorching heat on her skin whispering to her "Next time, do it right, or don't do it at all."
She shivered, in spite of the prickling heat of the blaze before her.
She looked up at Luna, breaking her connection to the fire. Luna was staring at her, as focused on her as she had been on the flames.
"The second ritual?" She murmured.
"You still want to go through with it?" Luna asked. "The first one you were nervous about, and I didn't listen. If you're nervous about this one, I'll listen this time."
"No, this one I'm sure of. Besides, didn't you hear the Grey Lady? Even if we didn't want to, even if I wasn't sure, we need to do this one."
"Okay."
They moved away slightly from the fire. As they passed by their overturned picnic basket, Ginny picked up the small wooden rod laying against it along with a few other small tools. "Finite Incantatem" she murmured as she waved her wand at the rod. It grew rapidly in height, dwarfing her in size. The tip of it gleamed in the firelight, a sharp spear point with a deadly edge.
Ginny and Luna stood across from each other, and Ginny laid the spear between them. They caught each other's eyes, and gave a sharp nod. It was time to begin .
Ginny handed one of the tools over to Luna and they both knelt down to begin carving. Ginny had nicked a few rune carvers from some older students. Ginny and Luna had three runes in total to carve; one for Ginny, one for Luna, and one for the both of them. They carved the runes up the length of the shaft of the spear, over and over and over. Painstakingly slow, and with no practice or skill, they did their best to carve the runes as precisely as possible.
Ginny was glad that the book Luna had found on the ritual had suggestions for runes to use. Trying to learn all the intricacies, subtleties, and meanings of the whole Futhark alphabet to make their decision would have been far too much work. They wouldn't have been able to complete this ritual so soon. Having a shortened list of suggestions had been immensely helpful.
Once the spear was adorned with carvings, they stood up, and stepped back. As she stood, Ginny felt a prickling along her skin. What she'd thought had been the residual heat of the fire was now too strong to be merely the flames. Ginny felt her breath hitch and her pulse quicken, unbidden. She felt as though there were a thousand, thousand eyes upon her, upon them, watching their work.
As one, the two girls pulled out their wands. A sharp twist and slash, and two concurrent incantations of "Diffindo" left deep gashes along the earth. Parallel lines stretched out before them, dividing a strip of the ground.
Step. Bend. Heave.
They each grabbed the earth, fingers digging into the hard ground and pulling. They pulled slowly to prevent the earth from crumbling in their grasp, but still bits and pieces fell. Slowly, ever so slowly, the earth was formed into an arch above the ground, the ends still attached at the ground. Ginny shifted, and grabbed Luna's side as well, to hold the whole thing up above her head.
Her shoulders strained as her arms stretched high above her head, her back was tight and she set her jaw. She could hold for a few moments while Luna grabbed the spear.
It came out of nowhere, so close she could reach out and lick the wooden shaft, right near her face. Any closer and Luna would've sliced open an eye.
With measured movements, Ginny extricated herself from holding up the earth. She and Luna stood on opposite sides of the turf. In the flickering blaze of the firelight, Ginny felt the pressure mounting. Her hair stood on end, her fingers clenched, a shiver ran down her spine. She curled her toes, tightened every muscle in her body, swallowed deeply. She breathed in, looked Luna in the eyes, and smiled.
Step. Step. Step.
Under the turf, it was as though the world fell away. Nothing else existed but them, their spear, and their runes. They stood there for a long while. Only for them did that place exist, and Ginny felt at once both excited and calm.
She drank in the image of her best friend, Pale hair and wide eyes. A smile adorned Luna's lips as well, a coy thing that hinted at a deeper happiness. Standing tall and willowy in her white night dress, swaying lightly as though a gentle breeze would blow her away, Luna spoke.
"Who uses it knows no pain,
sorrow nor anxiety, and she herself has
prosperity and bliss, and also enough shelter.
"I call upon joy. I offer to be a refuge, a pasture to come to, so you may release your agonies. A reminder that darkness may always finds us, but it also always passes. Find shelter with me in the forming of a new clan, one solely our own, as I know I will. Become my sister. Let us be bound together and allow us to realize together our greatest happiness, our highest joy, our unparalleled fellowship, through the strength of our bond."
Luna reached up gingerly, and placed her palm gently against the blade of the spear, hand held high above her head. Ginny caught her eye, and the barest hint of a nod from Ginny gave way to a light curl of the tip of Luna's lips.
"Wunjo."
In a single, smooth gesture Luna's hand was pulled down. It sliced along the tip of the spear, her motion as sharp as the edge of the blade. Blood welled along the metal edge, dripping in time with the cut across Luna's palm, which Luna held aloft. Crimson trickled down onto the shaft of the spear, then swirled around in an unnatural curve.
Around, around, around, touching each etched instance of the rune Luna had carved. Each wunjo rune lit up faintly, a gently glowing red in contrast with the deep red lines connecting them to each other.
Breathe in. Breathe out. Ginny didn't want to lift her eyes to Luna. She wanted to keep them firmly on the spear. Just as Luna's chant had been a personalized version of what they had found written in their book tucked in the back of the library, where it most definitely shouldn't have been shelved, Ginny's was a personal chant as well. Her thoughts, feelings, emotions, her very being she had poured into this incantation. She was afraid to let it out, to let her emotions and innermost feelings become so public.
The last time she'd spilled her soul, she'd almost lost it.
But this was Luna. She forced her eyes up from the spear, and looked into the silvery eyes of her best friend. She, who so proudly and calmly declared her intent to become her sister. Ginny had many brothers. She learned to scrap, to fight, to laugh, to argue with and from them. But a sister was something else entirely, something special. Certain things couldn't be shared with boys, brothers or no.
She searched within Luna's eyes, not sure what she was seeking but desperately needing to find it. The calm, easy look Luna gave her was exactly what Ginny was looking for.
Trust. Reassurance.
Love.
Ginny spoke.
"The horse is a joy to princes in the presence of warriors.
A steed in the pride of its hoofs,
when rich men on horseback bandy words about it;
and it is ever a source of comfort to the restless.
"I call upon the horse. I offer a relationship of such depth that it transcends all others. As the rider trusts the horse to carry him, the horse trusts the rider to guide them. I offer to be your horse and your rider, in equal parts, as I know you will offer the same. Let us find comfort in each other, and our bond, as the world around us toils in conflict and strife. Let us be equal and harmonious, in all that we do, with a bond that is stronger and more primal than all others."
Ginny lifted her hand, eyes still locked on Luna's. She went by touch, and only stifled a flinch when her palm rested against the cold edge of the spear because she was expecting it. Her shoulder strained, her arm stretched all the way up, just tall enough for her hand to reach the blade. Was it cold against her palm because the spear was so sharp? Or did it feel especially sharp due to the bitter cold of the night?
The fire she'd started earlier felt far away as she rested her hand against the blade. Mirroring her own actions from earlier, Luna gave a slight nod, almost imperceptible. Ginny felt the edge of her lip curl against her will. Their own private world beneath the turf, held aloft by the spear, the only sound was the blood from Lunas palm plummeting towards the earth.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
Ginny pulled her palm against the spear, slicing into her hand and offering her blood, sacrificing of herself to their bond. As she made the sacrifice, she whispered the final word to seal her part.
"Ehwaz."
The spear was balanced now, scarlet dripping from both edges in sync. Ginny's blood fell like Lunas, attracted unnaturally, bizarrely, magically to the edge of the shaft. It swirled counter to Luna's, hitting each instance of Ehwaz, all etched by Ginny's hand. Faintly colored wunjo and ehwaz runes, each separated by an untouched rune and connected to the next set of rune by deep, dark lines of crimson staining the wood of the spear.
Luna and Ginny each reached out their hands, past the spear and into the other's half of the turf. Hands held aloft such that the blood of their palms, their sacrifice to each other and to magic, dripped slowly onto the ground below them and into the earth. Ginny risked a quick glance down, and saw the earth didn't look stained at all. It was as though it had swallowed everything they'd offered, drinking it up into itself.
Eye contact, once again, and they took a deep breath together. They spoke, together.
"Generosity brings credit and honour, which support one's dignity;
it furnishes help and subsistence
to all broken people who are devoid of aught else.
"We call upon the gift. Our family is a gift. Our life is a gift. Our magic is a gift. We would forsake all these for the gift of our bond. We shall treasure the gift of our sister, chosen not given, above all others. When all is lost, when there is nothing left, we shall have each other. It will embolden us, it will guide us, it will push us to survive and to thrive. Our bond shall be the giver, and we the receiver. In return, we shall give everything to the bond, and it will take what it will. We will become one; we will become sisters."
They each pulled their hands in together, clasping hand to forearm around the spear. Ginny felt her slick hand hold tightly to Luna, holding on with all that she had. She felt the iron grip of Lunas hand on hers, grasping tight against the slippery blood which coated them.
"Gebo."
Liquid red swirled along the shaft of the spear, downwards and upwards, connecting each gebo rune to the other gebo runes, which completed each set of three.
Ginny felt the air around them become thicker, like a weight settling on her shoulders. She could faintly hear, for the first time in what felt like forever, the crackling of the fire in the distance. The only sound from the outside world to enter in to their own little space, their alcove underneath the earth where they pledged themselves to each other as sisters, forever. Her breath hitched as she could feel the magic in their blood seeping down their hands, over the spear, into the earth beneath them.
Fear crept up her spine as the air around her became unbearably hot, stifling her. It had no source, no reason, but Ginny felt undeniably afraid of something as she stood arm in arm with Luna.
Ginny curled her toes into the earth beneath her as she stared at Luna, who stared right back at her, each of them looking to the other for strength. Luna's eyes were filled with fright as well, wide and shaking. The snapping of the flames crescendoed louder and louder, their hands still gripping their forearms, until there was a loud crack that startled them past fear and into panic. They gripped each other tighter, instead of letting go. Ginny felt something inside her blossom, as her nails dug deep into Lunas arm, as she felt Luna dig into her own forearm as well. Was the blood welling down their forearms from their sliced palm? Or had they broken each others skin along the forearm?
Ginny didn't dare look to check, didn't dare break eye contact with Luna, and that feeling that had burst inside her grew. Alarm, concern, fright, all feelings Ginny felt deeply. But underneath it all, a current of swelling curiosity. Ginny felt it like a burbling stream, knew that in an instant it could become a raging current, and it was held back only by the utter strength of the other emotions.
Ginny realized it only a moment after Luna did, when she recognized the joy lighting up her eyes at the exact moment she felt the nebulous something within her be overtaken by joy.
She was feeling Luna. Triumph filled her as she whooped aloud, a barking laugh that escaped her lips outside her control. She felt exhilarated and filled to the brim with glee. There was a light thud, but Ginny didn't look to see what it was. She was vaguely aware of the light around them changing, becoming slightly brighter, but she refused to look away from Luna. She refused to tear apart their gaze lest their connection be broken.
Arms still clasped, the two of them stood there for what must have been ages, but didnt feel anywhere near long enough. Ginny reveled in the ability to feel Luna, feel her emotions swirling within her. They gallivanted around, flitting to and fro like a Blibbering Humdinger.
Eventually, the had to break. Their arms grew stiff, and their eyes were dry. How long had it been since Ginny had blinked? They let their arms fall apart, and Ginny fluttered her eyes. She looked down at her arm, and saw that yes, Luna had broken her skin with her fingernails. Angry red lines marred her skin, half-moon crescents littered across her arm.
She ran her fingers gently over the five marks. They stung, slightly, and Ginny was almost tempted to heal them with a quick spell. Something held her back, though. Instead, she let her arm drop to her side, and looked down where Luna was peering at the ground, bent at the knee.
Something was stuck in the ground beneath Luna's gaze. As Ginny kneeled over as well to look, she realized it was two somethings. The head of the spear was cracked in two pieces, and each was embedded in the earth. Ginny reached to grab one, and pulled her hand back quickly to her mouth.
"Hot!" she murmured around her thumb, as she sucked it.
"That wasn't your brightest idea," Luna whispered back, a laugh threatening to escape her lips and lighting up her eyes.
"Yeah, well, shut up," she grumbled. "We can't just leave it here. At least we weren't planning on putting the spear back anyways."
"Give it a few moments to cool off?" Luna suggested.
"Sure." They both moved to the fire at the same time. Neither of them had said anything, but they'd just known that they'd both move together. An awareness of the other had settled itself deeply, Ginny could feel it, and could feel that Luna could feel it, and could feel that Luna felt her feeling Luna feel-.
Ginny suddenly went a little faint, and stumbled into Luna who went faint with her. Supporting each other, they slid down to the ground before the fire. It had gone down quite a bit, snapping and crackling only lightly now. Tiny flickers of flame still danced here and there, but mostly it was embers that laid before them.
Ginny stoked the flames with a twig she'd found. She felt a shiver sneak up her arms as the hair of her arms stood on end from the heat which prickled a path along her body. The flames jumped and played as she stoked them, watched them greedily consume the extra twigs and small log she fed to the fire pit. She leaned back into Luna, who was looking not at the fire, but out across the way towards the small bit of the Black Lake visible through the thrashing limbs of the Whomping WIllow.
Ginny let Luna be, content to just be beside her, and stared into the fire. She took in a deep breath, and let it out slowly.
In. Out.
In. Out.
In. Out.
She counted the breaths, one by one by one, until her mind was clear, nothing but counting and flames. Eventually, the world was nothing but the dancing twirls of firelight. Soon, that too was gone.
A scorching heat. There was nothing to see, nothing to hear, nothing to smell, to taste, to touch. The only thing was the searing heat that was her existence. It lasted forever. It was over before it begun. No concept of time, no understanding of space, only pure, unchanged fiery existence.
When it ended, it was with a gentle light. Red, yellow, orange, white, blue, green, it shifted to and fro in a sinuous dance. Slowly, it settled on red, a bright crimson scarlet, and it fell down in waves. She refocused her attention, and it fell down back and behind a face. There were no details that could be picked out that defined it as a face. You couldn't point to one piece and say 'this is the nose' or another and say 'these are the eyes' or 'this is the mouth.' Yet it was a face all the same.
"You are given a boon, in spite of your failure." Were those words? Were they thoughts? Were the emotions, given form and substance through her own filter? She wasn't sure.
"Do not waste it. We have expectations now. Do not fail to meet them."
The heat all around her which had ebbed away came back again, scorching and concentrated on her, roaming over her body, from her toes to her head, up and up and scorching her away. It hurt. It hurt so badly, but was so welcome. At least she wasn't cold, she'd take anything other than cold, and like this, she'd never be cold again.
"Ginny." Who?
Oh. That was her.
"Ginny." Yes, that was her name.
She was busy, being seared into nothingness. Please leave her be.
"Ginny!" And she felt something else. She was no longer just Ginny. There was more to her, someone she had to come back for. She couldn't let the scorching fires devour her, much as she wanted to, much as she craved it, because she wasn't alone anymore.
She had Luna. Just the thought of the name was enough to cool her. Not cold, never cold, but calming, and soothing, and gentle.
Cooling.
Like the placid surface of the lake, reflecting moonlight out into the night sky, it didn't douse the scorching heat that she was, but tamed them. At the same time as her own fires burned and cooled, she felt out into the calm placidity, and the further into it she went, the less placid it became.
Her world morphed slowly, cratered mirrors of ghostly pale silver, reflecting back over and over upon itself. Deep ripples, like stones thrown upon a lake, accompanied her every movement through and around her new existence.
The further she dove, the wilder it became. A seething, unrelenting madness, a fury of raging tides. She unshackled herself before it, became a beacon of warmth and light and calm. She felt the heat prickle, desperate to pick up and become a storm of fire and fury to match the raging madness beneath her. But that wouldn't help, it would only make things worse.
She called out to her friend, to her sister.
"Luna," she whispered without vocal chords. No, just the name wouldn't be enough.
"Luna," she stated, putting into the word all that she could think of that encapsulated her sister. Her looks, her mannerisms, her belief. Every detail she'd ever noticed about Luna, she forced it all into the name.
"Luna," she said at last, embedded with everything that Luna meant to her. Their friendship, their sisterhood, their love for one another. How strongly she felt it all, she injected it into her name.
Slowly, agonizingly slowly, the world around her once again became that calm, cooling lake, lapping currents rippling through the image of a reflected moon. As it calmed, so too did the intensity of her own furious heat, until all around was a comfortable, soothing, calm and serene warmth.
She basked in it, content and happy. That feeling floated with her all the way back into unawareness.
A large pop forced Ginny awake. Her eyes flew open, and the world came into focus around her. The fire before her crackled lightly, back down to only embers. She leaned into Luna, who leaned back into her, shoulder to shoulder, back to back.
They sat there like that for a short while, and watched while the sun crested the horizon. Together, they stood and stretched.
Ginny walked back over to the site of their ritual, and found the spear they had used. Rather, she found its shaft lying on the ground, surrounded by torn up earth. The rune carvings they'd etched into the wood were no longer there, although looking closely Ginny could see trails of deep red swirls stained into the discarded pole.
She looked around for the head of the spear, and saw that Luna had found it first. The spearhead had shattered, cracked in two, and Luna was reaching right for one of them!
"Luna! Wait!" Ginny cried.
Luna turned to look at her, eyes squinted in confusion. "For what?"
"Don't you remember last night?" Ginny prompted. "I burned myself on one of those."
"Well, I'm sure it's cooled down by now, don't you think?"
"It shouldn't have been hot last night to begin with, so I don't really know."
"That," Luna said as she pointed a finger up at Ginny from her crouched over position "is a very good point." Saying so, she reached out and picked up one of the pieces regardless.
"Luna!" Ginny screeched.
"Oh my," was her whispered response. She picked up the second shard, and handed it over to Ginny. "Would you look at that?"
Engraved in each half of the head of the spear was a layered rune. Wunjo, on Ehwaz, on Gebo. As Ginny turned the spearhead in her hand to get a better look, the shine of the metal shimmered a slight scarlet, passing over the edge of the blade from bottom to tip.
"We should make them into necklaces." Luna murmured. "Our own sister-rune, personal to us, designed by our magic. It's a special thing, don't you think?"
Ginny couldn't help but agree.
As Luna turned one of the two broken pieces of spearhead over to her, Ginny saw a glimpse of something on Luna's arm, and she immediately reached out to grasp her. Luna stilled in her hands, and Ginny bent her arm this way and that.
"I left marks." Ginny whispered. "I'm so sorry, Luna, I didn't realize I'd squeezed you this hard." She trailed her fingers over the five white marks that littered Luna's forearm, impressions of Ginny's fingernails.
Luna peaked at them. "I like them. They shouldn't have healed so fast, but I'm glad they did. They're like gentle white waves, cresting upon my arm." She tilted her head at Ginny. "Did you know that's what your name means? Ginevra: 'White waves, or white shadow.' It shares one of those meanings with its predecessor, Guinevere. Guinevere, Arthur's wife, means 'Fair, white, blessed,' and 'phantom, magical being.' In other words, white shadow."
Ginny stared at her in awe as she spoke, then looked down at her own arm. Five indents marred her right arm as well, but instead of the deep red they'd been the night before, they were now a puckered white, with red rings around them.
"They shouldn't have healed so fast," she muttered. "But when I saw them last night, I thought of them as tiny little crescent moons."
She looked up and saw Luna smiling brightly. "Then I suppose we've both marked each other, and magic has made it permanent. We're sisters now, Ginny. It would seem that you're stuck with me forever."
"Good," she smiled back "because that's exactly where I'd like to spend forever."