"I thought you said we needed to do this in powdered silver."
"We do," Hermione said quietly. "But it's easier this way to see where we need to put it down."
She proceeded to ignore Draco, focusing on drawing out the circles necessary on the brick on the ground with chalk. She'd insisted they sneak into the courtyard so she could write on the stones. It was after dark, and while curfew hadn't technically fallen yet, Hermione strongly suspected if they were found, they'd be made to go back inside.
"Here, you can trace over the lines I've already drawn with the silver," she told Draco. "Be careful not to leave any gaps."
"Got it."
Finally finishing, Hermione stood and stepped back, examining her work.
The circle was large – very large, as it had to hold both of them. Inside of the circle were two smaller circles, both adorned with triangles, smaller circles, and lines. An array of runes surrounded the outer circle, marking the border.
"Why are there triangles?" Draco asked, tracing the lines. "I thought we were just using a circle."
"The triangles direct the flow of energy and stabilize it," Hermione said idly, bending over to fix a rune. "The channels and veins help, but the triangles help give the magic stronger purpose and direction."
Draco shot her a look. "Where did you learn that?"
Hermione opened her mouth to respond, before pausing.
"In a book," she said finally. "I don't remember which one. I've collected a few on ritual magic, now."
Draco gave her a suspicious look but turned back to his task, tracing out the lines.
Hermione walked around the border of the circle, carefully, making sure there were no gaps. The powdered silver gleamed under the light of the full moon, and Hermione felt shivers of anticipation sweep through her as a cool wind blew.
There was something magical about doing magic under an open sky, with your will and your words controlling the world.
"The fire seeds go in the semi-circles," Hermione directed Draco. "Put the seax and the mirror in the center. I'll handle the mercury."
"All yours," Draco said, giving her the small cauldron. "I don't want to be anywhere near the stuff."
Carefully, Hermione began to spill small amounts of the mercury in specific smaller circles inside the larger one, before casting quick air containment charms over each circle. The air containment charm was one of the few spells ever used in Potions class, and Hermione was glad she was proficient with it at this point – mercury vapors could be deadly.
"All done," Draco told her. "Now what?"
Hermione put the rest of the mercury in the cauldron outside of the large circle, directing him to put down the rest of the powdered silver as well.
"Step into your circle," she directed him, lifting her robes. "Careful – you don't want to break the silver. No, that one – that one's yours. "
"Does it matter?" Draco groused. "They're the same."
Hermione settled herself into her inner circle as Draco sat down in his. She folded her legs, draping her robes carefully around her. Draco mimicked her.
"This is how this is going to work," Hermione told him. "Pay attention."
Draco sat up and paid attention.
"You and I are going to invoke our magic," she told him. "We are going to channel it through the veins of the circle, past the liquid silver, and over the mirror. The goal is for our magic to take on the reflective qualities of the silver and the mirror before it reaches each other."
"To reflect a mental attack back at the Legilimens?" Draco questioned, and Hermione beamed.
"Exactly." She pointed to the seax, the small silver blade winking in the moonlight. "After we have raised our magic, we will cut our hands and clasp them together, blood to blood. This will give our magic the path it needs into each other to shield the other's mind."
She watched him carefully for a reaction, but Draco had no visible reaction at the thought of touching his 'pure' blood to hers, beyond looking faintly nervous.
"And then what?"
"Then our magic will transfer," Hermione said. "We should be able to feel the other's magic in our head, forming a shield in front of our thoughts. After the ritual is over, we'll only feel it again if someone tries to invade our thoughts – we'll become immediately aware of something foreign in our head."
"How does the ritual end?" Draco asked, and Hermione bit her lip.
"Err… it doesn't really have a defined ending time," she admitted. Draco's eyes widened, and she hurried to explain. "This ritual is all about transference and balance. Once one of us decides we've transferred enough magic to the other, that person will pull back with their magic, back through the circle to themself, and the other person should follow suit."
"What determines 'enough'?" Draco wanted to know, and Hermione shrugged.
"Honestly? At this point, just pull back when you feel you're reaching the end of your available magic pool," Hermione told him. She paused. "You… can sense your pool of magic, can't you?"
Draco looked insulted, and Hermione relaxed.
"Anyway, I'm confident I'll be able to match whatever magical output you have," she told him. "So when you begin to pull back, I'll just match you and withdraw as well."
"I thought this was about us establishing ourselves as equals," Draco objected.
"It is," Hermione emphasized. "Just because I have more magic available to me than you do doesn't mean I'll use any more than you in the ritual."
Draco scowled. "How do you know that you're the stronger one?"
Hermione was caught so off-guard she laughed.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she said, trying to stop her amusement and giggles. "It's just – look. Draco. We can get into this later, but for now, just trust me, okay?"
Draco looked insulted, and Hermione rolled her eyes, laughing.
"Look – if it will comfort you, if you have more power than me, then I'll pull back first," she told him. "Doesn't matter either way, okay? And after that, we'll have had a clean transference, and we can stop holding hands, end the ritual, and try to clean all this up before Astronomy."
Draco looked at her, his silver eyes echoing the spilled mercury on the ground.
"Okay," he said. "Ready when you are."
The air around them shifted with intent, with their purpose, and Hermione sat up straighter.
"Okay," she whispered. She closed her eyes. "Here we go."
The chant was a mashup of two – parts from a protection ritual, and parts from a transference ritual. Hermione was careful with the words, making sure to get them right, and after a few recitations, she heard Draco join her, his low voice blending with hers.
As their voices chanted, Hermione could feel her magic stretching within her, rousing itself and waking up at her call. She could feel part of it stretch out, exploring, going out of her and through the channels of the circle, where it took on a colder, reflective feeling, before stopping in the middle, near Draco, as if it hit a wall.
A moment later, there was a feeling of something waiting, trying to reach her, and Hermione's eyes flickered open, meeting Draco's a moment later.
"The knife," she whispered, and Draco reached for it, handing it to her.
Careful, Hermione took the small dagger, carefully setting the sheath aside.
"With this cut, I freely bleed," she murmured, pulling the blade across the palm of her left hand, sharp pain lancing up her hand. "May my magic protect you in time of need."
Blood welled up in her hand, and she cupped it to not let it drop as Draco took the dagger.
"With this cut, I freely bleed," he repeated, cutting his hand. He breathed in sharply, stiffening. "May my magic protect you in time of need."
He carefully set the dagger aside and turned to Hermione.
She gave him a small smile, offering him her hand.
"Ready?" she whispered.
Draco's eyes flashed, and after a moment, he clasped their hands together, firm.
Immediately there was a whirl of sensation, and Hermione's mind spun, trying to keep up. Her magic, cool and reflective, was going into Draco's mind. She was vaguely aware of his mind, an entity her magic was painting a shield in front of, though she could not see into his thoughts. Simultaneously, there was a feeling of fire forming a shield in her own mind, tightly-woven cables of reflective fire weaving themselves into armor for her thoughts. The magic in her mind was different, and Hermione could distinctly feel Draco's magic in her mind as she could feel her own in his.
His magic continued to pour into her, and Hermione continued to let hers flow out of her.
Her magic was about half empty, she could feel, when Draco began to struggle, shaking slightly where he sat.
"Draco?" Hermione murmured. It was hard to remember words, with so much magic rushing through her. "Are you okay?"
"I'm… fine…" Draco grit his teeth. "Just a little more…"
Their magic continued to transfer, building stronger and stronger barriers for the other. Hermione watched her own magic, mildly curious at how it kept regenerating quickly. It never seemed to go down past half gone.
Draco clenched her hand abruptly, and Hermione's eyes flew to his.
"Draco-?"
"I'm fine," he said. "I just-"
He broke off abruptly, shuddering violently as his eyes fell shut and he slumped over, his breathing shallow. There was a sudden feeling of an oncoming wave, and immediately, Hermione became aware of what was going on – Draco was pouring all of his energy into the ritual. She'd thought he'd pull back when he had only a little left, but instead, he was pushing it all at her, every bit of available magic power he had.
He was leaving none for himself.
Hermione's eyes went wide, panic and fear seizing her heart.
But it was mid-ritual. Hermione could do nothing. She couldn't stop him, couldn't yell at him for his stupid male ego, couldn't admonish him for putting himself in danger trying to prove a point that he was stronger. She had to finish it safely, or they'd both be at risk.
She couldn't help. All she could do was balance his energy to finish the ritual.
And so she pushed a matching wave of her own energy at him.