A/N: Thank you so much for your reviews, favorites and follows! I was excited to share this chapter, but ended up needing to split it into two, because there was just too much to write about. So, you will probably get the next chapter on Tuesday. Tremendous thank you to lanamarymack and Angela 007 for alpha/beta reading this in record time - I truly don't deserve them!
Please let me know what you think of chapter ten and be on the lookout for chapter eleven soon!
August 1
The morning of the first, Hermione had woken up at her usual time and agonized over the fact that she was actually going to blow off work to attend a pureblood ritual. She ate her porridge with apples and cinnamon, reading over her hastily penned note again and again until she plucked up the courage to owl it to her supervisor. With that done, she felt a giddy sense of excitement wash over her.
It was fun to break the rules and do something for herself for once in her life.
After breakfast, she dressed for the day, unsure of what rituals they would actually hold. While she had some broad ideas of the first of the harvest festivals, pureblood families had become increasingly secretive about their customs when they began to be used against them in witch hunts before the Statute of Secrecy was enforced.
Just as the sun was beginning to rise over the horizon, Tom knocked on her door to pick her up. She opened the door, feeling especially nervous to show him the yellow robes that she picked. "Is this alright?" she asked, biting at her lower lip. "I know that yellow is traditionally worn on Lughnasadh, but I wasn't sure if it was appropriate." She wore a sleeveless set of robes, the color of ochre, knowing that it would be hot outside.
Tom gave her a reassuring smile. "You look perfect," he said, before taking her hand. "In modern times, there isn't much of a tradition of wearing any particular color, but I am sure Rosier will find it amusing."
Hermione felt her stomach twist and hoped that Tom's friends wouldn't secretly be mocking her for her ignorance of their ways. She had no idea what to expect out of them. She tended to find purebloods to be generally unwelcoming and insular, so she was not expecting a very warm reception as an outsider.
"Oh, Rosier? Is that who is hosting?" she asked.
"Yes," Tom answered. "We'll have to side-along again, so that I can bring you through the wards. Do you have everything you need?"
Hermione shook her head and ran into the kitchen to grab her gift before returning to take his hand. "I had an interaction with a Hubert Rosier once," she revealed nervously. "He was not the friendliest wizard I've met. Is that your friend?"
Tom laughed and shook his head. "No, that's Evan's father, though," he told her. "Don't worry, he'll be far away getting drunk with his latest mistress, so you won't have to see him. And if anyone is less than friendly with you today, I will set them straight."
She felt her heart skip a beat at the promise that he would handle anyone who treated her poorly. She couldn't help but wonder what that meant exactly. Even though she'd only known Tom for a little while, she got the sense that he wouldn't handle it diplomatically. And, she wasn't sure if she should feel excited to know that he was willing to go to such lengths for her, especially seeing as his friends had been around much longer than her.
In the next moment, he apparated them to the edge of an orchard. A group of three wizards were working together to set up a long table in a small clearing. Hermione looked around, trying to take everything in. There didn't seem to be a building in any direction. All she could see was a vast field of wheat on one side, the stalks reaching up almost to her shoulder height. On the other side was an orchard, with perfect fruit on the branches, not yet dropped to the ground. They appeared to be in some sort of valley, from her estimation, with rolling hills all around them.
The noise of their apparition alerted the wizards to their presence. All three of them looked up at her intently. Tom wrapped an arm around her waist and gently guided her forward.
"Good morning, gentlemen," he said, smoothly - confidently, as if he didn't have a single care in the world. "May I introduce you to Hermione Granger? Hermione, this is Alfie Nott, Edmond Lestrange, and, last but certainly not least, our host, Evan Rosier."
Hermione diligently cataloged some of their features to help remember their names. Alfie was impressively tall and wore a scowl. Edmond had an impressive auburn-coloured mustache. And Evan was quite handsome and had almost strawberry blond colored hair.
"Thank you for having me," Hermione said, before offering up her gift to Evan. "I know it's tradition to make bread from the wheat that is harvested on Lughnasadh, so I made this for you."
Evan took the loaf of bread and stared at it before looking up at her curiously. "You made this yourself?" he asked, sounding perplexed. "Without magic?"
Hermione blushed. "Well, yes, I don't have a House Elf and I've found that magical means of kneading gives the bread an unpleasant texture," she explained, hoping that she hadn't made a horrible faux pax. Maybe she should have asked Tom if her gift was appropriate.
But then, Evan cracked a smile. "I don't think anyone has ever made me something before," he said, sounding surprised. "It's a bit quaint, but appreciated. I am sure all the boys will enjoy this later during the feast."
She wasn't sure what to say to that. At least it hadn't been a total misstep, but Evan had made no secret that it was an odd choice of gift.
"Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a few more things to take care of," he added, before disappearing down one of the long lanes of the orchard.
Hermione turned to Tom, only to find him pulled into a rather deep looking conversation with Edmond. It looked like something that he wouldn't appreciate being intruded on, so Hermione decided not to insert herself in the discussion. Not to mention, she knew the reputation the Lestranges had. Feeling a bit awkward, she turned back only to find Alfie looking at her with a queer look on his face.
"Alfie, was it?" she asked, hoping to engage him in discussion.
"Yes," he said with a sniff, as though he couldn't believe that she was actually talking to him. "Tell me, how did you and Tom meet again?"
"Well, I was sent to Borgin and Burkes to investigate a claim," she explained simply. "I impersonated a shopper. We talked about poisons and various artefacts in the store."
"And, why did he decide to invite you to our little gathering, I wonder?" he asked out loud, cocking his head to one side. The sunlight shone on his brown hair, giving it the colour of toffee.
"I think it was because I expressed to him my interest in the originations of magic," Hermione said, her confidence growing. Tom had invited her here, after all, which meant that he thought she was worthy of joining. "I've done a lot of reading on ancient rituals and I think Tom knew I would appreciate seeing one of those rituals in person."
"I didn't think that your kind approved of this sort of thing," Alfie countered, crossing his arms over his chest.
"Excuse me? My kind?" Hermione questioned sharply. She would not allow anyone to disparage her blood status. She was not ashamed of being muggleborn.
Alfie flushed immediately. "I didn't mean it that way," he said in a rush. "I didn't mean because you are a mud— a muggleborn. I meant because you are involved in the Ministry. Don't you know they outlawed this sort of ritual a long time ago?"
Hermione bit at her lower lip. Of course, she knew that, but it didn't mean that she agreed with it. "Yes, but I don't see why they would do such a thing," she answered with a frown. "There is no reason why you shouldn't be able to practice magic as you see fit. So long as you don't hurt anyone in the process."
"It's dark magic," he countered, a slow grin growing on his face.
"Oh, what even is dark magic?" Hermione asked. "It's all just magic at the end of the day. The real concern, in my mind, is the intent of your spells. If you aren't hurting anyone, I don't see why it would be a problem."
"And if it does hurt someone?" Alfie prodded, pushing her a bit further.
Hermione wasn't entirely sure what to say to that. "I...well, I don't want anyone to get hurt," she said, lamely.
"Alfie, are you trying to scare Hermione off?" Tom barked, rejoining them.
"Not in the slightest," Alfie answered, genuinely. "I was quite enjoying my conversation with her. And I can't wait to see how she finds her first Lughnasadh."
Over the next hour, the remainder of Tom's friends trickled into the field. Hermione did her best to remember their names. She would easily be able to remember the ones who did not seem to like her - most notably Orion Black, who barely said two words to her, and Abraxas Malfoy, who treated her with suspicion. Antonin Dolohov had made quite a rude comment to her as well, though she was certain he thought it was a compliment. Emeric Mulciber seemed intimidated to speak with her. Rafe Avery was quite friendly, though she did find herself most frequently engaged with Alfie and Evan.
Once everyone was assembled, they began preparing for the first of several events. Tom whispered into her ear that the afternoon would be spent playing a variety of games, as the celebration had started out as some sort of athletic competition. The first would be a race through the wheat fields to the top of the tallest field.
Hermione was sure that she surprised them all when she asked if she could join them, especially because Tom did not intend to run with them. Emeric snickered and made some jape about the slowest runner having to strip down to nothing and run through the orchards after.
"Anything goes?" Hermione asked, unsure of what the rules were. It seemed to be somewhat unregulated.
"Anything goes," Emeric agreed, sounding supremely confident in himself.
As they all lined up to begin the race, Hermione held her wand tightly in her hand. While she wasn't necessarily confident in her speed, she knew that she was handy with a spell. With a set of red sparks from Tom's wand, they all began sprinting through the tall wheat. Emeric slowed his pace to run beside her, but Hermione would take none of his taunting.
"Incarcerous!" she called, sending ropes tightly around his ankles.
He went sprawling, his large body tumbling several times down the field. "That's not fair!" he shouted after her.
But, Hermione was not deterred. She was faster than Avery and Black, but she knew that they were not far behind. She was close to catching Evan and Dolohov, but didn't think she could pass them. She sent a stumbling jinx towards Dolohov, but didn't feel that it was right to jinx her host. In the end, it was actually Alfie who won the foot race, standing triumphantly at the top of the hill.
Evan panted, bending at the waist. "Alright, Al, you can cut the first stalk," he said, conceding for the rest of the wizards.
Triumphant, Alfie used his wand to sever a stalk of wheat, before putting it in the pocket of his robes. Once he was done, the rest of them did the same, each one putting the wheat in his breast pocket. Hermione bit her lower lip, unsure if it would be okay for her to do the same.
"Go ahead, Granger," Rafe encouraged. "I think that you've more than earned your wheat today. I don't think Emeric will ever live this one down."
"I don't think I want to see his bare arse running around," Edmond added with a grin.
Grateful for the direction, Hermione took herself a piece of wheat. She didn't have a breast pocket in her robes, so she used a bit of magic to pin it to her dress. Once everyone had caught their breath, they walked back down the hill.
Tom looked amused when he heard the way the Emeric was griping about her spell and patted the seat next to him, so that she would sit beside her. "The next event is wrestling," he explained to her. "I assume you won't be participating in that."
Hermione blushed. "No, I think I'd better sit that one out," she agreed, not liking the idea of having to overpower any of the assembled wizards.
"Are you sure? You might be able to stun Emeric again," Rosier teased, with a smile. Hermione shook her head no. "In that case, would you wear this circlet? It's been a while since we've had a witch who could stand in for the goddess during the games."
She took the circlet, with a bright citrine stone in the middle and hesitantly put it on. She looked to Tom, nervous for his reaction. "Was that okay?" she asked, desperately nervous about making a misstep.
"Of course," he answered, giving her a serious look. He leaned in closer to her, so his words wouldn't be overheard by Alfie, who was also sitting out the wrestling. "You've impressed them, by showing that you play to win and aren't hamstrung by the idea of fairness."
Preening a bit under his praise, she knew that she should feel bad about not playing fairly. But they had said that anything goes. "And the goddess?" she asked.
"Wizards used to believe that there was a goddess that blessed the lands with food. The athletic events are meant to entertain her during the harvest," he explained.
"But you don't believe in the goddess, right?" she asked, tentatively, thinking that it would be surprising if Tom did believe in something like that.
He gave her a sly look, barely able to keep from smiling. "No one does," he explained. "But the ritual remains just because it's been happening for so long."
The three of them watched the group pair off and wrestle one another until Dolohov was the surprise winner, having defeated Emeric. The large man was growing quite salty at having been bested in both events, especially seeing as he talked such a big game before. Hermione got the impression that he was used to winning these sorts of physical feats.
As the goddess, Hermione was instructed to give Antonin the first mead out of a large horn that looked as though it had seen better days. She felt a bit silly serving him in that way, but she had agreed to be a part of the ritual so she did it anyway.
Antonin took the horn and chugged all of the mead. They filled it back up to the brim and began passing it around, each one taking a drink. When it came to Hermione, she looked to Tom for guidance. He gave her a small nod so she tentatively took a drink. Orion made a bit of noise about sharing mead with a muggleborn, but Tom gave him a fierce look that made his complaints evaporate in an instant.
They passed the horn around until it was nearly empty. When it came back to her again, she found that it was nearly empty and took the last drink. Only, they had failed to tell her that the aim was to not be the last person to drink from the horn. Evan took it from her and filled it back up to the brim.
"Since you were last, it means that you have to drink the next one all on your own," he said, handing it back to her. "But don't try to chug it like Antonin did. It's quite strong."
Glad for the warning, Hermione held onto the odd glass and took sips of the mead, until her head was spinning. Overhead, the sun was beginning its evening descent and she couldn't help but wonder what was left to come.
