Hermione set the blanket and the photographs down farthest from the water. She wanted them safe. There shouldn't be much splashing, but it was a possibility. Pushing down her innate curiosity proved more of a challenge, but she succeeded. She didn't invade his privacy by pawing through his few precious items. The magical energy he'd invested in their preservation was enough for her purposes.
She opened her bag and removed the materials she would need for the ritual. There were only minutes left. Each one would feel like hours, but magic, the glorious and powerful kind, was always dear.
She removed her clothing and placed it inside her bag. The cold, evening air raised goose flesh over her skin. Being naked outdoors was no longer novel, but there was a great deal of difference between dancing sky clad with Luna, and turning your body into a magical implement. She tossed the bag off the cotton sheet and took a deep breath. The earth moved even as she stood still upon it. Time and space disappeared into her knowledge of this moment. She felt the power arcing under her skin as the sun sank lower.
Kneeling, she picked up the soapstone mortar and pestle. It's was cold and black. She raised it above her head and waited for the magic to pulse. The warm thrum of her blood in her veins continued in its regular way. She fought the urge to rush. The magic would decide.
The sudden pulse of power inside her body sent the pestle spinning in the bowl of the mortar. She brought her arms down slowly. There was no going back now.
Hermione took another measured breath. The flow of air was precious. She let her hand slide along the surface of one of the lotus pods. The small circles that contained the seeds teased her fingertips. She gathered the three she had chosen and placed them in the mortar. She crushed the lotus pods and then added lemon balm in her mortar. The scent wafted up to her clean and fresh. She took another deep breath before adding the dust of three woods. Elder, holly, and oak joined pennyroyal and pomegranate in the thickening paste.
She took three deep breaths and glanced toward the sun. It was time. She picked up the bowl filled with dirt from his childhood home and the place where he had breathed his last. The blessings fell from her lips in an easy cadence. She pushed the paste into the dirt and opened the bottle of water. Holding the clear glass of the vessel above her head she let the sunlight flare and reflect from the water to the waiting ingredients.
Each step had to be perfect.
"I can't believe you're saving him." She ignored the familiar voice. "I would have come."
She didn't look toward the spirit. She'd known they would come. Some would distract while others tried to give aide. Non of it mattered. Sirius, even as a translucent wisp, was demanding. Giving him attention wasn't a good idea. She poured the water into the stone bowl and mixed the whole lot together with two fingers. She smiled when the mess became an indigo paint.
She started at her feet and drew the symbols on her skin with practiced precision. She felt the paint sinking into her skin and melding its powers into the magic brimming inside her. Each breath hurt as she moved up her legs.
"Come on, Hermione." Sirius' spirit called to her. "Don't you miss ol' Pads, kitten?"
"Leave her be." A woman's voice sounded from behind her. "She made the right choice."
"Since when is he the right choice?" Sirius sneered at the spirit behind her. "You didn't choose him."
Hermione caught sight of another spirit coalescing as she painted the symbol on her left hip. He looked like a younger, urbane version of Sirius.
"He is a true and loyal friend. Leave her be, Siri."
"He didn't save you, Regulus." Sirius grumbled.
"I wasn't his to save, was I?" Regulus Black examined his own hands.
"There is that." Another male spirit joined them. "He has things to do in the mortal plane."
She fought the urge to stare open mouthed at Harry's father. It was like being naked in front of Harry. She shook off that thought and resumed marking her skin with the paint.
"There's a lot of things I never got to do. It's not like I left the world with a wife and heir sitting at my bedside." Sirius grumbled.
"Siri, this isn't your time." The female spirit came over to the others and swung her long hair over her shoulder. "We are here to help her, or did you forget that?"
"I didn't forget." Sirius moved to the edge of the sheet directly in front of Hermione as she marked the skin of her stomach. "Are you sure, kitten?"
She wanted to talk to them. She wanted to sit down and spend the night storing memories for Harry, but there was no time. She saw other spirits beyond them. The misty forms of her audience hurried her movements.
"If you're wrong, if he won't come to you, you'll never join us. Your spirit will be gone." Sirius looked so lost. "Why him?"
She felt her legs begin to shake. The power of the magic thrummed through her again. The marks on her feet began to glow. Her hand shook as she brought the paint up to mark the flesh of her chest.
"You can do it." Tonks wafted up next to Sirius. Her hair was a glowing reflection of the sunset. "Keep going. Sirius is barkers. Just do it. You're doing the right thing."
Hermione fought back the urge to scream as the spells she was working on her skin began to interact. It was like a localized crucio as each symbol linked to the others. The spell work had to be perfect. The pain didn't matter. She pushed through it. If Bellatrix Lestange hadn't stopped her, this sure as hell would not.
She finished the paint on her face. It was no longer smooth and easy to manipulate. It felt grainy and thick on her skin. She winced as she turned to the water. The last rounded edge of the sun was about to sink below the horizon. She took a deep breath and headed for the water's edge.
Remus floated at the edge of the sheet. She looked up into his eyes and wanted to cry. If she failed, this was the last time she would see someone that loved her.
"You are the brightest witch of your age and several others." Remus grinned at her. "It will work. Trust in the magic."
She nodded and slid into the cold water. She wouldn't drown and she wouldn't freeze if she believed in the magic. She floated out into the water and let her body submerge slowly.
The magic rippled through her and she felt a weight settle on her back. His chin fitted against her shoulder his long arms trailed out past hers in the water. The wait of him forced her down further into the dark water. She wanted to breathe, but she could not. She wanted to struggle in the dark water, but she had to remain still.
Trust the magic. Trust that you will breathe again. She let the words slide through her brain. The dawn would come and they would rise from the water.
She smiled and let the magic pour from her into him. His life mattered. He was the one that had sacrificed for them. She had been the one curled in the dirt next to his corpse after the final battle.
She had believed it would be Harry. She'd never imagined doing this for Severus Snape, but she'd known as she stared into his empty eyes that the spell would only work for him. He had been destroyed in a war waged between two monstrous men, pieces of him had been strewn far and wide. She remembered the feeling of his hand as she cradled it in hers and the promise she made.