The centaur Firenze gazed at the midnight sky. The Dark Forest seethed with sudden life. Disturbed animals rustled about. Magical plants glowed whether they were supposed to or not. Like the other magical creatures of the forest, the centaurs were restless but did not know why. The centaurs scattered scouring the forest looking for any anomaly but found none. Firenze stood by the lake and spoke with the merpeople there. They knew nothing.
Firenze turned and thundered back to his herd. He knew that nothing would be found. This was magic of the most ancient kind. Such made its presence felt but rarely did it make itself manifest to the creatures of the earth, sea and sky. He wondered. "A great portent has come. What fruit shall it bear and when?"
In the headmaster's office, the portraits yelled and shouted amongst themselves. Instruments scattered about the room whirred, clanged and sparked. Something was happening but what that was, no one really knew.
"The castle is humming," Dilys Derwent said. "I cannot recall anything that would account for this. Phineas, do you know anything about this?"
"How many times do I have to say no!" said the Slytherin crossly.
"Whatever it is, it is affecting the entire castle." Armando Dippet observed from his portrait.
"Where is the headmaster?!" Phineas Nigellus inquired. He sat in his frame looking far from his usual poised self.
At that very moment, the headmaster of Hogwarts stepped through the office door. His eyes quickly scanned the room and took in the situation. He strode to his desk and sat down. It seemed that as soon as he had sat down, the tumult subsided. A clock on the desk showed half past midnight. Cautiously, the headmaster looked around waiting for the shaking to resume. But all was calm again. The portraits began shouting questions at him.
What is happening? Has someone been doing experiments again? Why were we not advised ahead of time?
The headmaster motioned for silence. "The ghosts have reported no anomalies that they can detect. The house elves have said the same thing. Whatever it is ... was ... seemed to be external to the school. Hagrid did say that the forest creatures were restless but that's all. Do any of you have anything to add? What did you experience?"
"Albus, by virtue of what we are, we are more attuned to the castle than the ghosts or the elves. It was some kind of force, palpable, hard like a sharp wind sweeping across the entire castle."
"It felt like I was being enfolded, smothered." Dilys added. "I cannot explain it."
"I heard giggling, laughter." said Phineas. The other portraits looked at him in disbelief. "I have not lost my faculties. I did hear laughter - a woman's voice."
That last statement was met with a few more silent stares. Phineas Nigellus stared right back. The headmaster was about to say something when a movement high up on one of the shelves housing Hogwarts' more ancient artifacts caught his eye. It was a simple instrument - a disk hung suspended over four concentric circles. The instrument had lost the patina of age. It's brass fittings glowed anew. The golden disk shined like a freshly minted coin reflecting the light as it swiftly rotated on an edge first in one direction then another. It was moving far quicker than it had in recent months. The headmaster stood and approached the instrument. He removed it from its shelf and carried it carefully back to his desk. The portraits followed his every step and move.
"That can't be! It can't." Dilys exclaimed.
The headmaster strode to the window and said an incantation known only to the headmaster and deputy of the school. A minute after the incantation, ribbons of energy in opalescent colors began to criss cross across the grounds of Hogwarts from the castle to the lake, to the forest and beyond. He pressed himself against the tall windows unbelieving what his eyes were witnessing. "It's a miracle." he murmured. "A miracle."
For a few minutes they all watched the lines form, reform and join in riotous patterns across the grounds. Then the lines turned towards the castle. The portraits gasped as line after line streaked across their walls. As a line inched across his desk, the headmaster seemed to come to full alertness. "Oh, goodness, I have to tell the others." He left the office hurriedly.
"Was anyone going to ask Albus about that tartan dressing gown?" Phineas asked airily as the door clicked shut.
In the infirmary, Professor Flitwick tried to shade his eyes from the light and go back to sleep. But the light grew brighter still. Finally, he blinked and craned his neck trying to see where the light came from. The windows were glowing. Flitwick sat up with some effort. His ribs complained mightily at the sudden movement. From where he was, he could see out to the front of the school. He saw the fiery lines on the grounds growing brighter and more powerful with the passing of time. He stared and stared not believing.
Madam Pompfrey came in and sat down on his bed. Her eyes were wet with tears of joy not sorrow. "It's back, Filius. The Blessing is restored."
The two friends sat in quiet contemplation watching the Blessing's power spread through the castle and the grounds. In various places of the castle, smaller groups of staff and teachers gathered also watching. This spectacle was for their eyes alone. After the tears came the laughter. No one returned to their beds that night. Many strolled the grounds feeling the raw energy coursing through the land. The Blessing was rebuilding itself winding and wending its way across all of Hogwarts. With every passing hour, the lines knitted themselves together tighter, closer.
In the Sitters Room, Demos, Professor Sprout and Calliandra laughed and danced around the Tree of Blessing. It was growing ever higher and the ceiling was rising higher and higher to accomodate it. The newest tree was similarly growing in height and health. Its branches hung heavy with fruit.
"I thought I had seen everything." Serjanus mused watching the others. "Apparently, I have a lot more to learn."
At that very moment, in the secure recesses of Hogwarts, its greatest champion stirred in his enforced sleep. His hand twitched once and then fell still. A tinge of rose colored his pale cheeks. His breathing lost its delicate rattle. It became deep and unhurried. His beard lost its gray drabness. Strand by strand, it took on a silvery luster. His companion glowed brightly one, twice, three times and each time growing bigger and brighter.
Beside the bed stood two men watching the changes coming over the sleeper with great interest. Nicholas watched avidly taking notes now and then. "Remarkable, utterly remarkable."
The other man touched the hem of Albus' robes then quickly withdrew. His fingers tingled with warmth and magical energy. Snape stood unmoving not trusting his voice to express the uncommon emotions roiling inside of him - awe, relief, joy, and most rare of all, hope.
As the sun rose over the horizon, the staff stood outside the castle waiting anxiously. Their robes scant protection against the cold winter chill. In time, the sun cast its rays upon the castle. Its masonry walls glittered in the light of a new day. The flags waved crisply in the air. The staff cheered until they were hoarse.