For those of you keeping score at home, yes, 1998 did see the spring solstice on Friday the 20th of March, and the sun did rise at 5:38 a.m. in Avebury that day. My thanks to the U.S. Navy's website for the sunrise data.
This year, the spring solstice was on March 20th, which was a Friday. However, Hermione had recommended that we perform the ritual as the sun rose, which meant we'd probably be missing our Friday classes. No one seemed to mind this much except Hermione, who was miffed that she'd have to miss Charms. "We're going over Fidelius!" she cried to anyone who would listen.
We all went straight to bed after dinner on Thursday so we could get a little sleep before the ritual. I dreamt, as I was wont to do when I was nervous about something.
In my dream, I am comforting my mother, who is crying. She tries not to cry when I'm home, but I guess she couldn't help it this time. It is January: I have just had my eighth birthday the previous day.
"Mummy, it's all right," I tell her, smoothing her hair with my little hands.
"I'm so sorry, Susan," she says. "I'm fine, really I am."
"You're not fine, you're crying," I say. "Can I make you some tea?"
She smiles a little through her tears. "That would be lovely. If you bring me the kettle, I'll put the Warming Charm on."
"I can do it if you give me your wand," I say slyly, but Mummy isn't biting.
"You know you're not permitted to do magic yet. Once you get to Hogwarts, you'll learn how to do it all properly." Reluctantly, I hand over the half-full kettle, and she pokes it with her wand. Immediately it starts to warm up, and I take it back from her to rest on the kitchen counter.
"Why were you crying?" I ask. Now that she seems a little better, I think it's okay to ask her.
Mummy wipes a few tears from her cheeks. "It's your father," she says shortly.
"Because you love him, and he's not here?"
She nods. "It's very difficult for a mummy when the daddy is missing."
"Do you know where he is?"
She Conjures up a hankie and wipes her nose, then laughs shakily. "It's funny -- I was crying because I thought I did, for a moment."
"Where?" I ask eagerly.
She waves the hankie as if to brush away the thought. "Oh, I -- when I awoke this morning, I thought he was in bed with me. But when I sat up, he was gone."
"Yeah, I thought I saw him tuck me in last night," I say nonchalantly.
Mummy peers at me quizzically. "You . . . saw him?"
"I was mostly asleep," I say apologetically. "But something glinted, and I thought I saw the moon reflected on a pair of specs. When I opened my eyes a little more, I thought I saw him, but then he was gone."
The kettle whistles, and I jump up to put the teabags (peppermint for me, Earl Grey for Mummy) into our mugs and pour the hot water over them. I give Mummy her mug, and she dips the teabag into the water about a dozen times while staring at the wall. I have the feeling that she's not really paying attention, so I get the milk from the cupboard with the Cooling Charm on it and offer it to her without saying anything. She snaps back to reality then and takes the milk from me. "Thank you, darling. This was just what I needed."
"You're welcome." I sip my tea quietly and try to recall exactly what the figure by my bed had looked like. All I can remember is the shock of black hair and the shining spectacles.
My Waking Charm woke me up at four. I groaned quietly and looked over at Ginny, who was slowly peeling herself out of bed. How different this young version of my mother was from my dream version.
I got dressed quickly and silently. The six of us convened in the common room at a quarter after four, most of us yawning and rubbing our eyes. "This is daft," Ron grumbled.
"Does everyone have their scripts in case they forget a line?" Hermione piped up. We all waved our sheafs of parchment in the air halfheartedly. "Brilliant, let's get a move on."
Harry led the way with the Marauder's Map, and we snuck out of the castle and through the front gates. When we were off the grounds, Harry took Ginny's arm, and motioned to Hermione to take mine.
"I've got the coordinates here," Hermione said breathlessly. "Ron, Neville, you two Apparate on your own. Harry will Side-Along Ginny, and I'll take Susan." She must've seen the look on my face even in the dark, because she added, "I've been practicing, Susan, don't worry."
I squeezed my eyes shut and prayed we wouldn't Splinch. After a moment, I felt a horrible wringing sensation, and I almost cried out. But then --
-- we were at Avebury. I looked around at the huge stones and almost couldn't breathe. In the moonlight, they were simply stunning.
"Cor blimey," Ron said, clearly awed. "Who made this place?"
"Wizards and witches," I said, my voice sounding even to me like it came from far away. "Thousands of years ago, in the days before the Ministry or Hogwarts or even Wizarding villages, wizards and witches gathered here a few times a year. They exchanged spells they'd invented, traded potions, and performed big spells together, like weather magic and protective spells."
"Weather magic's illegal," Ginny pointed out.
"It wasn't then," I said. "They did huge spells here to ensure rain for their crops and such. The stones were places to amplify and concentrate their power. Most of them didn't have wands back then, so the stones were necessary for that."
"Wicked," Ron said, and laid a hand on the nearest stone. "Hey!" he cried. "You can -- you can feel it. Here, put your hands on it."
He was right; putting a hand on the stones made you feel something like the little buzz of power you felt while casting a particularly complicated spell.
"Well, you lot can stand around feeling stones; I'm going to put up some Muggle-Repelling Charms," Hermione said bossily. She was so relentlessly practical sometimes.
In about a quarter-hour, Hermione had secured the grounds, and we were left with about three-quarters of an hour to kill before dawn began at 5:38 a.m. precisely (Hermione had, of course, calculated it). Too nervous to stand around and discuss the ritual any further, I wandered over to a particularly inviting stone and began to climb it easily, as I'd climbed the trees in the local park when I was a little girl. I'd always had a head for heights, which Aunt Mi-Mi had said was inevitable, with two Quidditch players for parents.
It was chilly, but not unpleasantly so, atop the stone; I hugged my legs for warmth and felt the stone beneath me supply a bit of heat, too. It was deeply magical, and it must have sensed my discomfort. I placed a hand on the stone and tried to thank it silently, having no idea whether it understood.
I sat for a few minutes staring off into the distance. I wished I knew more about what would happen this morning. But Aunt Mi-Mi and Mum had been united in their refusal to tell me much of anything. "This is one thing you must experience for yourself," Mum said, and would not speak further.
After a time, I heard someone clearing his throat beneath me. Expecting Harry, I glanced down. But it was Neville, leaning against the massive stone and peering up at me in the dark.
"May I come up?" he asked, his voice eminently formal.
"You may," I said. I had nothing to lose, and I could not bring myself to turn him away out of spite.
He scaled the stone with considerably less ease than I, but that merely made me admire him for his determination. I smiled wryly at my own thought. Did Neville have a single fault that I would not turn into a virtue?
"What is it?" he asked as he settled down beside me, referring to my smile.
"Nothing. Why did you come up?"
"No reason. I saw you sitting alone."
"Planning on keeping me company? Or on berating me further?" I asked. I couldn't help myself; I'd been in pain for over a month, and it was all because of him.
He winced at that. "I don't know where to begin."
"In regards to what?"
"In regards to the fact that I've been a horrendous arse."
I smiled without meaning to. "Begin with an apology and work from there," I suggested.
At this, he turned his body round so he was facing me and took my hand gently. "Susan. I am so unbelievably sorry."
"For . . . ?"
"For taking my frustration with my parents out on you. For blaming you for something you couldn't help. For not speaking to you for a month."
Now I turned to him and took his other hand. I could imagine the picture we made, sitting facing each other atop a huge stone, holding hands. I liked the picture. "That's a lot to be sorry for," I said sternly.
"I know. But to be fair, what you told me was a lot to get through my skull."
"You mean most of your girlfriends don't turn out to be your friends' daughters from the future?" I asked in mock-surprise.
"Well, I'm one for one so far," he replied.
I giggled a little at this. "Congratulations."
"Cheers." He paused. "I missed you, you know. Terribly."
"I missed you too."
"And I do love you."
I'd gotten used to hearing him say it in the time between Christmas and Valentine's Day, but it came as a surprise now, and I had to squeeze my eyes shut to keep from tearing up. "I love you as well."
He put a finger up to his neck and drew out the rowan wood pendant I'd gotten him for Christmas. "I never took it off, y'know. Not even when I thought I was so angry with you."
I reached over and traced the rune with my finger. "Were you ever tempted to?"
He shook his head firmly. "I knew, even if we never spoke again, that the pendant meant more than I was willing to give up. It was -- it was first love, and protection against the dark, and hope for the triumph of good over evil. Taking it off would've been . . . wrong."
"I'm glad to hear it," I said. My calm words didn't betray that within me, something was lighting up that had been dark for over a month. Perhaps I was forgiving him too easily, but it didn't feel that way. It felt like just what I ought to do.
"So . . . if we get back together -- assuming you'll have me -- how much more time do we get?" he asked.
I looked into his eyes for a moment before answering. "Six weeks."
He looked into the starry sky as if for strength or guidance. "Bugger all," he whispered. "And I just threw away a month. More than a month."
"Don't," I cautioned him. "If you want to make the most of the time that's yet to come, you can't dwell on that."
"You're sure about the timeframe? You've got six weeks?" he asked anxiously.
"To the day," I said.
"You couldn't, y'know, stay for a little extra time? Maybe just till the end of the school year?"
I shook my head rapidly. "I can't change the past. Mum and Hermione remember my being gone after May Day."
"You can't change the past? I don't understand -- I thought that's what you were doing here."
I sighed. "It's complicated. Long story short, if something was observed by the people living in this time, I can't make it any different. And Mum and Hermione say I'm to disappear in six weeks, so I'm going to disappear, whether I like it or not."
"You'll go back to your present?"
"That, or die."
Neville, who was still holding both my hands, squeezed them at that pronouncement. "You musn't," he insisted.
I laughed, a little ruefully. "I'd also prefer that I didn't."
"What's going to happen? Why would you die?"
"It has to do with You Know Who," I said. "Beyond that, I really don't know what I can and can't tell you. I'm not even sure what I have to do. I believe I'm here for a reason, but I don't think I've figured it out yet."
Now he smiled, also ruefully. "Do I count?"
I leaned in and kissed him on the forehead. "I meant a Voldemort-related reason, but you absolutely count," I said into his ear.
He took my closeness as the invitation I'd meant for it to be, and kissed me very lightly on the lips. He knew better than to do much more than that. "Am I forgiven?" he murmured.
I drew back and looked at him appraisingly. "Not entirely," I admitted. "The month's been completely pants. And you were just terrible."
"Well, I'll take that for now. We'd better get down; my watch says it's almost half-five."
So we scrambled down from the huge stone, dusted ourselves off, and regrouped. I felt infinitely more relaxed and ready to take on the ritual, and I was very glad Neville had approached me when he did. I almost certainly would've cocked up the ceremony if I'd been in high dudgeon the whole time. I felt ready now, and I straightened my shoulders. We would do this, and we'd do it right.