It seemed like winter had broken shortly after the second task. Sirius and Berg began taking their tutoring of Harry and Hermione outside into the forest, but they worked the two students so hard that neither could actually enjoy the improved weather.
They learned everything that Sirius could remember from his auror training; a stealthy language of hand signals used to communicate silently, field healing and a list of counter curses to the go-to spells of a dark wizard. Berg taught them everything else; an eclectic combination of magical history, magizoology and defence against the dark arts. They still attended transfiguration and charms, potions and runes but Black ensured that they built on the knowledge that was learned in each class; how to identify each potion and counteract it, how to use runes for elementary ward breaking and how each charm and transfiguration could be made more powerful or used in combat to great effect.
Meanwhile, Umbridge's detentions took up every evening and they spent hours sitting in her office, carving words into their hands with a blood quill. Hermione found the whole affair immensely puzzling; the witch had seemed cruelly delighted when she announced her punishment but if it was physical pain she was going for, Hermione had received far worse from both Lady Grindelwald and Gorlois. All it took was a numbing salve applied to the back of her hand prior to the detention and a drying charm to the parchment afterwards which meant the blood couldn't be used for anything nefarious. In essence, the detentions were irritatingly time consuming and left an unsightly curse scar on the back of her hand; "I must follow the rules".
The nights were taken up by the defence study group. Routes had been marked from each house dormitory to the Chamber of Secrets and meetings took place after curfew, deep in the bowels of the castle where they couldn't be found. Her students bloomed under tuition and the chamber grew from a convenient meeting room into a hidden common room - or lair, as some of them had become calling it. It was a space where, in accordance with the rules Theo had set down at the beginning, different ideologies could mingle and learn from one another. And to Hermione's delight, discussion occurred. Ravenclaws debated the merits of blood wards with Slytherins, muggleborns convinced purebloods to try some of the newest muggle inventions and both were taught to feel the flows of ancient, ambient magic by Hermione and her court.
But their efforts did not go unnoticed. Umbridge was aware that something was up, assigning detentions and dosing anyone who showed aptitude in classes or dared communicate across previously established political lines with Veritaserum. If anything, it only strengthened the fledgling bonds between Hermione's students.
But not all of them were as dismissive of the pain of the quills as Hermione and Harry.
And so she resolved to take a plunge at the next meeting.
The atmosphere had become far more relaxed, people tricking into the chamber as their classes ended. Some arrived early enough to spread their homework out across the stone floors, lounging on transfigured cushions and tackling their assignments with the assistance of their peers. Others rushed in at the last minute, fresh from Quidditch practice or one of Umbridge's increasingly desperate interrogations.
Usually, they began with a quick recap of the previous session before moving on to whatever topic Hermione had selected as their next task; they were due to continue with major jinxes, working on increasing the speed of their casting and expanding their repertoires.
But this time, Hermione climbed up to the nose of Salazar Slytherin's statue before anyone had a chance to draw their wands to review the three new jinxes they's learned the night before. An instant hush fell, eyes sparkling in the low light as they turned to watch her.
'Several weeks ago, I told you all that these lessons would be a chance to gain something more powerful that personal skills.' Hermione began, 'I told you that by putting aside our prejudices and learning about each other, appreciating the other side and their talents, we could become stronger and safer together.'
Several people cheered, clearly in agreement with her words.
'Now, I want to share something of my own beliefs with you. I ask for the same tolerance as you have displayed in your interactions with each other.' Silence fell like a curse across the room. The other factions held some overlap, some tolerance towards each other, but Hermione's deeply traditional belief in the old ways was universally unpopular. But nobody expressed any objection, so Hermione continued, 'Today is Ostara, the spring equinox when the day and night are in balance and the ambient magic supports such balance. The moon is in influence, strengthening defensive magic and healing; it is the perfect time for powerful protective rituals and for the casting of wards. I want to invite you all to perform such a ritual with me.'
It was hard to get a read on the crowd. Some were clearly interested, others uncomfortable with the concept of tangling with the primal magics she spoke of. But nobody protested.
'Umbridge's blood quills have left a taint of her dark magic on us, and we can use the power of the equinox to balance it with the light magic of those of us in the group with such an inclination. In doing so, we will turn the curse scar into powerful protective ward against her.' Hermione paused, 'if you do not wish to be a part of this, you may leave and return tomorrow to continue as usual.'
'The ritual is simple; we will join our magic together, which will probably be the most difficult part for everyone. Once our magic is joined, I will open a connection to the ambient magic of the world, letting it flow through us. You must let it; be like a feather, floating on a stream. Using ancient words, we will call upon the magic to bring balance to us and to cleanse us of the curse of Umbridge. You do not have to know the words, but the ritual will be stronger if you hum along and focus your intent. The next bit will hurt - we'll use our combined power, along with that of the ritual, to turn that which infects us into protection. It will reshape the words on your hands into runes, which will hold the ward.'
'Won't she know, then?' One of the Gryffindors asked loudly.
'Obviously.' Vaisey snapped back. 'But what's she going to do about it? She can't claim we've used an illegal ancient ritual to subvert the illegal blood magic she used on us without incriminating herself.'
'I'm not sure about this… illegal, you say?' One of the Hufflepuffs, Justin Finch-Fletchley had wide, white eyes.
'It's actually not illegal,' said Luna Lovegood, perhaps the least reassuring of the Ravenclaws, with her dreamy voice and vacant expression, 'nobody outside the practitioners of the old ways really understands this kind of magic well enough to ban it any more, so the old laws are the only ones that apply and they're quite vague, really.'
Her words were met by surprised silence.
'She's right.' Theo spoke up; unlike dreamy Lovegood, the Nott family had long been respected as legal and historical leaders in the wizarding world. 'The old laws ban the use of magic with dark intent and this is a protective spell. Modern wixen law bans magic that uses any part of the human body, but not those that affect the body - ergo, none of this is any more illegal than holding a secret meeting under educational decree twenty-eight.'
At the general mutter of assent, Hermione jumped back down to the floor. The group quickly cleared a space, then formed a circle with some prompting from the five of them, linking hands. Hermione sat, dragging down those next to her. Like a Mexican wave, everyone dropped to the floor, tugging and pulling at their linked hands as they shifted to cross their legs.
Hermione paused, surveying everyone in the circle for a moment. Theo was opposite her, next to the Ravenclaws who seemed mostly curious. Wary Gryffindors were bookended by Ginny and Harry, with Luna Lovegood a single sapphire in the line of red robes. Neville sat bravely with the older Slytherins on Hermione's right. They were not quite evenly balanced, but between them they should be able to exert enough control to guide the many novices in the room. She wished briefly for Gellert, Berg and Anneken, titanic pillars of experience in rituals compared to the spindly trees that was her modern young allies, but quickly put the thought aside as silence fell.
'Everyone holding hands? Good. Okay, we're going to use a simple meditation to increase our awareness of magic. Breathe in…' Hermione did as she'd said, breathing in slowly, 'breathe out…'
The hands of Ernie MacMillan and Daphne Greengrass shifted as they mirrored her breathing. Slowly, with every repetition, the nervous spiking and shuddering of the magic around her began to smooth.
'Now, feel your hands. Concentrate on the person next to you; are their hands warm or cold, rough, smooth, thin, thick, calloused? I want you to feel them…' Hermione sent a tendril of her magic rippling out through each of her hands, twining through the physical connection and into the two wixen either side of her. Sharp gasps told her that both had felt the intrusion.
'Feel your magic, feel the magic of those around you.'
Like she'd done with Gellert as children, Hermione coaxed the magic of the two either side of her into following as she extended the tendril of her own magic further around the circle. After a moment, Daphne's magic shuddered and the witch took control of it herself, clumsily following Hermione's through her linked hand and into Zabini.
It took a while, some responding faster than others as Hermione made her way around the circle, eventually meeting up with Neville and Ginny's efforts.
'Relax, feel the circle. Feel everyone around you.' Hermione crooned, expanding her own awareness out. The ambient magic responded immediately to her call. 'Feel the magic of the earth.'
Opening herself to the magic was like opening a flood gate. It rushed through her, spilling around the circle, fissioning through her hands. Gasps of surprise echoed in the chamber and several connections wavered as the wixen holding them lost focus.
'Focus, breathe. Let the magic flow through you. Relax, do not fight it and you will be fine.'
She gave the circle time to steady, observing the flow of magic as those around her relaxed and settled into the strange feeling. They were like fauns, dipping their toes into the stream and dancing away, all without ever really tasting it. But Hermione didn't need them to do anything more; the ritual she'd chosen was easy; she could do it as the only connection to the ambient magic if necessary.
'We are gathered here, a coven united in our will.' Hermione intoned. Around the circle, her four friends repeated her words, echoed half a second later by several uncertain voices around the circle. The ambient magic billowed, summoned by the sudden attention of so many bright young wixen.
'Balance in the earth, become balance in me.' More people echoed her words this time, anticipating what was expected of them. Some, the brave, who were more attuned to their magic, unconsciously reached deeper into the flow around them, drawing more up into the circle.
'Mighty magic of the moon, answer our call. Balance in the earth, balance in magic, balance in me.' Her words were repeated again, like a prayer. Emboldened, more people dared to dip themselves into the magic of the ritual. As more wixen opened themselves, more ambient magic flowed towards them, diverting towards their circle in a Venturi effect. It rushed through those that were open to it, then spun through them and into the rest of the circle, whipping around faster and faster. More and more of the group let go, shedding their fear as the glorious magic awakened ancient instincts among them.
She repeated the words, like a chant, the others echoing her until the magic roared and wind roared around them in the chamber, whipped up by the swirl of magic within their circle. The torches flared and roared, flames dragged into great tongues and the water of the lakes whipped into peaks and spray, howling up into a whirlwind of magic that was further fuelled by the awe of those around her.
'A scar upon our skin, a twisted magic held within.' Hermione called over the ringing chants of her circle and the howl of magic in her ears. The magic stalled suddenly, arrested by her words and the focus of every ear in the circle upon her. There was a brief pause, and then suddenly the magic pounced, tearing through her body and magic until it found the cursed letters upon her left hand.
'Match the dark, within this mark. Make it right, with offered light.' Around the circle, magic surged through each person, focusing on each hand.
'And with this magic, the curse repealed, make with it a natural shield. Balance in the earth, balance in magic, become balance in me, so mote it be!'
And it burned. Torches flared, painting the inside of her eyelids red to match the searing heat in her arm. Voices cried out around her, members of the circle echoing her pain. Magic spiked and sparked, writhed and fought, but the magic of the ritual with too strong. She only had a brief moment to regret choosing this as the first ritual, and to vow to murder Mordred for suggesting it, before the pain abruptly stopped.
The torches extinguished, plunging them into darkness.
Hermione opened her eyes, aware of a sudden lightness in her body. It was like she'd just completed the Solstice cleansing ritual, relieving herself of dark influences she hadn't even known were present.
'Are we done?' Someone asked shakily from the Gryffindor side of the room. Nobody answered.
Then, wavering and uncertain at first, blue light appeared. Shimmering, silvery, like the light of a patronus, it traced the letters on the back of Hermione's hand. Around the circle, like pinprick stars in the night sky, other words lit up. Fascinated, Hermione watched as her own ornate calligraphy shifted and swirled, the marks moving across her skin to form a string of delicate runes.
"Balance in Earth, balance in me, so mote it be." Hermione read aloud as the new marking settled, the glow fading.
'Now it's done.' Theo's voice drifted across the circle. There was a rustle of fabric and a sharp movement of a still faintly glowing hand. The torches rippled back to life, illuminating a group of wide eyed students, many of whom were staring at their hands in amazement.
'It worked!' Blaise Zabini remarked, rubbing a finger over the freshly marked runes. Already, the skin looked better; the inflammation that had bothered so many of them had faded and the letters were nothing more than a silvery scar.
'It doesn't hurt anymore.' Young Astoria Greengrass marvelled.
'I can feel the magic in it.' Luna sounded more grounded than Hermione had ever heard her. 'Umbridge won't be able to touch us.'
'That was unbelievable.' One of the Weasley twins breathed, uncharacteristically sombre.
'Brilliant.' The other agreed.
'Painful.' The Gryffindor Patil twin countered.
'But it worked.' Her Ravenclaw sister pointed out, 'can't you feel how the dark magic is gone.'
'I can feel the light.' Bole breathed, tracing the shapes on his hand with one thick finger. That didn't surprise Hermione; Bole had incredibly dark natural magic. Clean, not twisted by dark magic, just dark like the night sky. The perfectly neutral protection would seem pearly in comparison.
'Do they all hurt like that?' Brown asked, still rubbing at her own hand.
'No.' Hermione answered, climbing to her feet. 'Most don't hurt at all. I want to thank you all, for your tolerance and willingness to do this. Umbridge will not be able to harm us now.'
'Thank you.' Vaisey spoke loudly, calling over the rising muttering of the group. Instantly, silence fell again. 'Thank you for showing us a side to magi that we never knew existed, and for sharing the bounty of your beliefs with us.'
The Slytherin jumped up, being deeply. Several other joined him, along with a scattering of purebloods from the other houses. Others thanked her verbally, calling out gratitude across the room. Hermione stood there, surprised by the overwhelming support; she'd been about ready to throw Mordred's sword into the metaphorical fires of Mount Doom for suggesting such a raw and painful ritual, but perhaps it was the pain which had convinced the others that it was genuine; there was a clear give and take in the ritual; a cost.
Because everyone knew that the old ways always demanded a price, and they'd seen it paid.
Hermione bid everyone good night to a round of applause.