Chapter 37 – Llyn Tegid
A/N: Sorry I've been missing my weekly updates – was on a much-needed vacation, so many hours at work, and then celebrated Pride! But I'm pleased to present this chapter – the highly anticipated Samhain ritual. CW: blood magic. Enjoy the chapter!
It was eerily quiet in the circle, as if some invisible barrier had muted their surroundings. No whispers of the autumn leaves, no incessant hum of nighttime insects, only a hushed solemnity and the sharp crackle of the ritual fire. Draco's eyes sought out Hermione's. They were piercing and glowed like polished copper in the firelight while her runes sharpened into focus. He draw back the sleeve of his robe to find his own silvery runes just as prominent. Only they didn't glow like all the other times. No, in this instance they moved like thin tendrils, curling and shivering, like they were a living creature rather than markings on his skin. He had to suppress a shudder, the movement too reminiscent of Nagini's coiled machinations. Dropping the sleeve, he inhaled sharply, pressing the thought behind a mental wall. He needed to focus tonight. He wouldn't let a damned snake, no matter how terrifying, pull his attention from this night and his obligations to one Hermione Jean Granger, his Queen Consort for life. Locking his eyes on hers, he set his shoulder backs and waited for her to begin the invocation.
As we approach Samhain, the Veil that separates us is thinning and those come back to us. Not only the Veil of the Realm of the Dead, but all Realms. The spirit world take flight. We gather in sacred ritual with magical flame under harvest moon light. We call to our magical predecessors who have been here before to seek wisdom and insight.
Apprentices of the Stars, Lovers of the Sun and the Moon, Awakened Old Souls, and guardians of secret wisdom. We hear the air whisper of death and decay, take him by the hand and follow her into the dark.
The Dark Queen of the Lake, Revered White Lady of Inspiration and Death, our Goddess of Dark, Prophetic Powers. Cerridwen, take your consort for he seeks to know your glory, share your pain, and bind himself to you. Take him beneath, to your domain of Llyn Tegid, for the knowledge, inspiration, and transformation you would willingly bequeath.
In return, we gift three drops of magical blood in return for the three drops of magic stolen from you. One drop for safe passage, a second drop as a mark of good faith, and a third as a scared vow to follow your guidance and fulfill our fates.
After her third and final recitation, a pale light began to emanate from the cauldron. Draco stared hard at the light, no contents had added nor was the light coming from the fire. They hadn't been able to determine what might happen after the ritual begin or in what form the "travel" would take. Steadying his breathing, he withdrew a sharp dagger from the folds of his robe and rolled his shoulders. The thin chain of his protective crystal amulet was biting into his skin and he felt the prickles of a cold sweat beading on his temple. Hermione withdrew a twin blade and pulled it across her outstretched palm, wincing slightly. Draco felt himself pale. Blood magic was so final, so resolute. There was no returning from this once his blood had been spilt.
Blood, he thought with an irritated air, it always seemed to rest on blood. It was blood like hers, a Muggleborn, that had been deemed filthy and beneath such refined and elegant blood status such as his own. Tainted blood not fit to grace the hallowed halls of magical existence, blood that started a years-long magical war. How ironic and peculiar it should be that the blood they had spit on, tortured, and besmirched should be the blood that simultaneously spelled their doom and promised salvation.
With a heavy sigh, he lifted his palm and drew the razor edge across his calloused skin. He hissed at the bite and forced his hand to remain open as the thin, red line beaded. She stood strangely still, a perfect mirror of him, her hand outstretched as the crimson liquid pooled gently and gleamed in the flicker of the fire. She looked fierce like the lion she was, however, she radiated a sinister and lethal energy like a coiled viper. The sight made his insides squirm, whether from fear or desire, he couldn't discern.
Each taking a step forward, they tilted their palms and released exactly three drops into the bright circle of light emitting from the cauldron. Draco could have swore he heard a strange sigh as the blood evaporated and transformed into a thick vermillion cloud, billowing upwards and engulfing them. His eyes snapped up when he heard a strangled gurgle come from Hermione's direction. His heart hammered violently against his ribcage at the sight of her. Her eyes had gone black, smooth and dark as polished onyx. The smoke fluttered around her, yet never touched her. His eyes widened when she began to float upwards, hovering several inches above the ground as her hair whipped wildly around her. She opened her mouth, gurgling out some ancient and unknowable word, blood seeping from the corner of her lips. A scream died in his throat as the burning, red smoke raced towards him and filled his mouth, nose, and eyes. Then it all went dark.
A dull roar echoed in his ears as a heaviness rested on his limbs. He groaned, wishing the sound would go away and allow him a moment of rest. He felt exhaustion settle over him like an old friend. If only he could hold onto this peace, this respite. He shifted to settle when he felt a bulky, cutting sensation drag across his throat. Draco's eyes snapped open as realization washed over.
Thank Merlin Hermione had the foresight to create a grounding amulet for him or else he may have spent an eternity in perpetual sleep.
His heart simultaneously sank and rejoiced knowing their efforts had gotten them this far. Llyn Tegid looked different from the last time he had visited. He recalled standing on the edge of that wild lake as Cerridwen sank beneath the depths, calling for him. This Llyn Tegid was different and he knew he was not alone.
It reminded him of a wild autumn night when the dead leaves are falling thickand the winds seem to be singing the dirge of the dying year. It was a somber picture, a background of forest showing black and jagged against a lowering and turbulent sky, the sighing of the winds in the branches, the rustle of withered leaves underfoot, and the lapping of cold water upon the shore.
On the far shore, wrapped in twilight and in shadow, was a dark figure with a glitter of steel at their shoulder who peered down at him through the matted boughs of those ragged trees. Draco shuddered at the ominous watcher, keeping a wary eye on its position. He needed to see Cerridwen for neither him nor Hermione had any idea how long this ritual would last. His time was limited or maybe it was infinite in this place. Every fiber of his being screamed at the unnatural energy rippling through the air. His magic felt like static, pulled in every direction and haywire. Raising a shaky hand, he gripped the grounding amulet like a lifeline and finally stood.
I see you've made your way to Llyn Tegid once more, Consort, a haunting voice whispered behind him.
Draco whipped around, coming face to face with the entity that plagued his dreams.
She was as he remembered: beautiful yet terrifying. Utterly capable of pure skin was a pale greenish blue with the vessel symbol carved in her forehead. Her eyes blacked out, cruel and vicious with vast knowledge swimming in those dark pools. Surrounding her, stood all her animals forms, silvery and translucent like the Hogwarts ghosts. Each sat eerily still, bodies set ready and watching. Their eyes a precise match of Cerridwen's and Draco instantly understood he was not only being watched with one set of eyes, but with many.
Before her sat a massive cauldron. No fire roared beneath it but burning heat radiated from it. Draco took a hesitant step forward to peer at the cauldron's contents, guardedly watching for any reaction from the dark goddess or the watchful hunter of the far shore. A shimmering purplish black liquid dotted with brilliant pinpricks of light filled the cauldron to the brim. Flashes of dazzling flames rocketed by. Swirls of hot clouds in every color danced with each other as columns of starlight collapsed in vicious explosions. Draco felt the air leave his lungs as he realized the universe in its entirety was laid within her cauldron. He saw as time rippled across the inky surface. Her cauldron was the womb of life itself. He stumbled backwards with a violent jerk, his mind reeling and unable to grasp the totality of what he had just witnessed. He clutched the grounding amulet tightly, the cut on his hand burning with pain. Cerridwen fixed him with a look of amusement.
Many seek the knowledge contained with my cauldron, she spoke in a bitter tone, but none can comprehend. If you come seeking my wisdom, you waste your breath and your effort. None have proven themselves worthy of such a gift.
Giving the crystal another squeeze, using the sharp sting to focus his racing mind. He frowned at Cerridwen, oddly irritated at her assumption of his purpose and immediate denial of his unspoken request. He may have doubted himself as worthy of others but that did not mean he accepted that truth when strangers spoke it out loud. He carefully arranged his face into a neutral mask. Occlumency may not help him from Cerridwen but it was definitely useful in maintaining a blank expression.
"I may not be worthy, but Hermione has found me so. You have no choice but to comply with what I seek." He spoke in a level voice.
Cerridwen arched a dark brow at his words, but remained silent.
"Hermione is dying. You are killing her. We were able to stabilize a small portion of her magic through another ritual, but it only prolonged the inevitable. The ancient texts only state that a bond must be created, but gives no further instructions on how to accomplish this." He paused briefly realizing that the silvery creatures flanking Cerridwen were becoming agitated, pawing and stomping around her dark throne, "We seek only this knowledge, not the vastness that is contained within that cauldron." He finished, pointing in its direction.
That knowledge is part of a greater whole. You ask too simply. You cannot seek in pieces, she replied coolly while reaching out to stroke the smooth fur of the otter form, Eve did not seek partial knowledge when she sought out the forbidden fruit.
Draco clenched his hands to contain his fury. She was toying with him, prolonging the experience and dancing around his questions. Tegid Foel had not lied, Cerridwen would not make this easy.
"I don't seek to steal your wisdom. I only care about Hermione's life." He countered through gritted teeth, "I should think you would be concerned about the fate of your vessel."
Something flashed across her black eyes as her mouth curled into a sneer. Pulling her pale hand away from the otter, she stood and leveled him with a vicious look.
I have lived many lives through many vessels. What makes this vessel so extraordinary? She hissed as the sky above them began to dim further with thunderous clouds, Is it because you think she'll provide you some sort of redemption? That she will prove that you aren't the monster, a by-product of your heartless father? Do you honestly believe that without this bond, my vessel would have ever given you a second glance?
She gave a high, cruel laugh as a crown of dark stars formed above her head and the silvery animal forms vanished in a wisp of light. Draco took a fearful step back, giving a strangled gasp as he watched a flood burst forth from the cauldron and black water rushed around his ankles. His eyes searched frantically for any sign of solid ground but all he saw was a rising tide.
Tegid Foel, My Beloved, you always chose the weakest vessels, turning to speak towards the figure on the disappearing shore, he is utterly beneath the glorious forms I select. This one is broken and stained, his magic and soul marred by acts of weakness. He barely understands the purpose of one's life. He had no ambition beyond increasing his family's fortune and mating with some common witch to produce an equally common child while living in the shadow of his family's unimpressive legacy of cowardice and treachery.
Draco's patience had worn thin at her harsh and grating words, denouncing him to the smallest and most insignificant of creatures. Something inside him snapped as he felt a familiar stinging in his eyes begin to cloud his vision.
"I am beneath her! Hermione is an incredible witch – top of our class, Brightest Witch of Our Age with such love, devotion, and loyalty that I didn't know could exist in a single person!" he roared, ignoring the ice-cold water that continued to rise, "I could spend my entire life trying to repay her for all the evil deeds she's been subject to and the crimes I am guilty of. If I could hold onto the warmth and compassion she has graced with me with for just a single day, I could be the happiest wizard in the entire universe. I love her and I won't let you take her from me. So Merlin, help me, you WILL tell me how to save her!"
Are you ready to pay the price for that knowledge? she questioned as the murky water rose above her chest, leaving only her shoulders and head visible.
Draco knew the answer to Cerridwen's question before she had finished. Of course, he would pay any price she demanded if it meant Hermione would survive. She had to or else he'd never be able to face the world without her. He shivered as the water swirled above his shoulders, the current lightly thumping the grounding crystal against his chest. It felt like a slow, heavy heartbeat as if mirroring the final moments of life before they drained away into nothingness.
"Anything for her." He answered resolutely, a shiver racing through his body at the knowing gleam held in her eyes.
So be it, she murmured before the tide engulfed her completely, Know her pain. Only then shall you know the weight of mine.
Draco managed a final gasp of air before darkness flooded his eyes and he sank beneath the waves with her.