In the end, Harry had to go to Hermione for help.

"I don't even know how to get his blood," he admitted. "Like… do I just cut his arm and let him bleed into a flask? Or what?"

Hermione had to admit it was a valid question. So far for rituals, they'd all just cut themselves in the moment with a knife. This was the first time they needed blood from someone else uninvolved ahead of time.

Luckily, the Hogwarts Library had no shortage of books on Healing and healing charms, and Hermione was able to find a few that would fit their needs. The charms were a bit finicky, and they took a bit of practice, but Hermione was soon confident she'd be able to cast them properly. She was a bit relieved at her luck, honestly – the alternative would have been attempting to stick Ron's vein with a needle, and Hermione was well aware she didn't have to proper training to be able to do that at all.

Hermione tagged along to the conversation between Harry and Ron, ready to obtain and store Ron's blood. She was curious despite herself on how this would go – Ron didn't seem the type to be happy about ritual magic at all. Harry found Ron in the Gryffindor common room on a couch in front of the fireplace, glaring down at a piece of parchment.

"Hey," Harry said, sitting down across from Ron. "What're you up to?"

Ron glanced up, scowling.

"Doing Snape's essay," he grumbled. "I hate this. 's like he thinks knowing every detail about fluxweed is so important. Like I don't have better things to be doing than writing about a weed."

Harry winced. "Ugh – I have to do that one yet."

"You have some time still," Ron said, making a face. He glanced from Harry to Hermione, curious. "What's up?"

Hermione gave Harry a look, who sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

"I need to ask you for a favor," Harry said reluctantly.

"Okay…" Ron said, raising an eyebrow. "What is it?"

"It's a little odd," Harry warned, "but—"

"Harry, mate," Ron said, rolling his eyes. "Just spit it out."

"I need some of your blood," Harry said all at once, in a rush.

Ron blinked.

"My blood?" he repeated, astonished. "Gross. Why?"

Harry seemed cautiously reassured by the lack of immediate enmity from Ron.

"It's for a ritual," he said. "We need virgin blood to pull it off."

Ron's eyes went huge.

"You—you—" he sputtered. "When? With who?"

"No, no!" Harry said hastily, his face burning. "It's not— it's 'virgin blood', not 'virgin's blood' – it means blood that hasn't been used in a ritual before – it's not—"

"Oh." Ron's ears burned a bright red. "Um. I mean. Okay. I've never done a ritual before, so I guess that works." He tilted his head, glancing at Hermione. "Is she involved?"

"Yes…" Harry said slowly. "She's in my coven too, remember?"

Ron slowly grinned.

"You're Slytherin, right, Hermione?" he said, as if he didn't know exactly what house she was in. "And Slytherins, they exchange favors for favors, right?"

Hermione rolled her eyes, exasperated. She folded her arms.

"Generally, we don't come right out and crassly declare it like that," she said pointedly, "but essentially, yes, we do."

His grin widened.

"Then," Ron said, "what do I get from you in exchange for my blood?"

Hermione resisted the urge to throw up her hands.

"What do you want?" she asked.

"Snape's essay," Ron said immediately. "You're a swot – you've probably already got it done—"

"Absolutely not," Hermione snarled. "Snape will know you copied off me, and we'll both fail the assignment."

Ron made a face.

"Worth a try," he muttered.

"What else, mate?" Harry prompted. "Nothing that will get anyone into trouble."

Hermione found Harry's stipulation funny, given Ron's blood would allow them to pull off a ritual that would probably definitely get them into trouble if it worked as intended. Ron considered thoughtfully.

"Could you…" He coughed, his ears going a bit red. "Could you get me a date with your dormmate?"

Hermione blinked.

"…you'll have to be a bit more specific," she said slowly. "I have four of them."

"Tracey," Ron said, his ears turning redder. "You know. The one with the short hair."

Hermione tried to hide her surprise.

"I… unfortunately, I don't think I can right now," she said, apologetically. "She's being courted by Adrian Pucey."

"Courted?" Ron made a face. "She does that fancy stuff?"

"She's in Slytherin, Ron," Hermione pointed out. "We all do that 'fancy stuff'."

"You don't," Ron said, snorting.

"I most certainly do," Hermione shot back. "As a matter of fact, I'm being courted by Cedric Diggory right now."

Ron reared back in shock, while Harry looked surprised.

"Diggory?" Harry said. He started to grin. "Hermione, how could you? He's my Quidditch rival. I feel so betrayed."

"I'm sure you do," Hermione said, rolling her eyes, but she was smirking.

"If I can't get a chance to snog Tracey, any chance you can set me up with Susan?" Ron whined. "She's fit, too."

Hermione thought of Ron's lazy attitude and lackadaisical approach to his studies, and Susan's determined and highly organized approach to her own.

"I severely doubt it," she told him flatly.

"Can't get anything," Ron whined. "Not Tracey, not Susan… and you haven't even asked them. Maybe they'd want to go out with me." He gave her an annoyed look. "Is my blood worth anything to you?"

Hermione rolled her eyes, her temper short.

"I'll give you ten galleons for a pint," she snapped.

Ron froze. "What?"

"I'll pay you," Hermione said impatiently. "You asked if your blood was worth anything. My answer is clearly 'yes' – I will trade gold for your blood."

"Wait, seriously?" Ron scrambled to sit up on the couch. "I'll just—I just have to bleed, and you'll give me ten galleons?"

"That's it," Hermione confirmed.

"Deal," Ron said immediately. "Where?"

"Not here," Hermione said, dismissive. "It's too exposed."

"Let's go up to the dorm, then," Harry suggested. "No one will be in there that early."

Harry was right – Seamus, Dean, and Neville were all somewhere else, and the only present residents seemed to be Scabbers, Ron's pet rat, and Trevor, Neville's pet toad.

"How do we do this?" Ron asked, bouncing onto his bed. "Do we need a knife, or…"

"Roll up one of your sleeves," Hermione instructed, rolling up her own. "I'll need your elbow."

Ron hastily rolled up his sleeve and presented a pale, freckly arm to Hermione, who took it.

"This might hurt," Hermione warned him. "I don't know if I've quite got it down to be entirely painless."

To her surprise, Ron's lips quirked.

"Not much of an adventure if it doesn't hurt a little," he quipped, grinning. "Right, Harry?"

Harry grinned back. "Right."

Hermione sensed she was missing some sort of inside joke. Dismissing it, she withdrew her wand and flask, aiming her wand at Ron's inner elbow.

"Sanguinem furantur," Hermione said carefully, tracing a small circle over one of Ron's veins. She moved her wand to the flask, tracing a sort of S-shaped sigil. "Sanguinem conligo." She moved her wand back to Ron, before pressing it into his skin, hard.

"Ow!" Ron flinched, but Hermione was pleased to see it working – as she pressed her wand into Ron's vein, the flask was slowly filling up with blood.

"Gross," said Harry, but he looked fascinated as the container continued to fill. He looked up at Hermione. "Will this be enough?"

"Probably?" Hermione said, shrugging. "I'm not entirely sure."

"Will you need more?" Ron asked eagerly. "I can give you more."

"I can't take more than a pint from you safely," Hermione told him, raising an eyebrow.

Ron pouted. "Are you sure?"

"It'd be good to have extra," Harry pointed out. "Especially if we're not sure how much we'll need."

Hermione bit her lip, considering.

"If you take a Blood-Replenishing potion tonight, I can take another pint in three days," she told him. "But only if you take a potion tonight, and only if you don't let your blood be used in a ritual before Tuesday."

Ron snorted. "Who else would try?"

"Just being careful," Hermione said. "You never know."

"You'll give me another ten galleons though, right?" Ron asked eagerly. "For another pint?"

With a sigh and roll of her eyes, Hermione agreed.

"Missy Hermione!"

"Tolly," Hermione greeted with a smile. "How are you?"

"Tolly is being most excellent," Tolly told Hermione, grinning. "We was having an excellent Wassail Eve!"

"I'm glad!" Hermione told her. "I'm sorry to have missed it – I had a lesson that night."

"It is being fine," Tolly dismissed. "Us elves have been doing it by our elfselves for forever." She looked back up at Hermione, large eyes blinking. "How is Tolly helping Missy Hermione?"

"I've come to ask a bit of a favor," Hermione said, biting her lip. "Do you remember last Beltane, when you had me learn 'popping'?"

"Of course Tolly is remembering," Tolly scoffed, affronted. "Tolly is not so old as to have her head filled with mush."

"I was just making sure," Hermione said hastily, apologetic. "I—well, last time, you or Bidum loaned me faerie stones on necklaces, to make sure my coven could 'pop' safely."

Tolly suddenly looked very wary. "Missy Hermione…"

"I want to practice popping," Hermione said. "Not tonight – on Imbolc. But – I think I might need a faerie stone to do it safely."

Tolly looked very torn.

"You was being safer on Beltane, when it was not being winter anymore," Tolly said. "Popping on Imbolc… it is being risky, it is…"

"Even with a faerie stone?" Hermione asked.

Tolly frowned deeply. "Follow Tolly."

Hermione followed Tolly deeper into the kitchens. Toward the back near the giant ovens inset into the wall was a crowd of elves. To Hermione's surprise, they were all semi-clustered around a confident elf Hermione could recognize as Neemey, who appeared to be telling them a story.

"Is they really?" one House Elf breathed. "They is really being our magical brethren?"

"They are," Neemey confirmed, eyes glinting. "Only, they are further fallen than you."

"We is not fallen," a different House Elf shot back, affronted. "We is being magical beings the same as you."

"Magical beings who can't even properly celebrate the festivals of magic?" Neemey sighed, head shaking dramatically. "What kind of magical being is that?"

The House Elves glanced at each other, uncertain.

"We is celebrating some days," one elf said slowly. "When we can gets away from the Headmaster—"

Neemey snorted.

"Ah, yes, the Headmaster," Neemey said, eyes glinting. "Tell me, which is more important: Magic itself, or the Headmaster?"

The elves all looked around, expressions of uncertainty and discomfort on their faces. Tolly made a face.

"You is trying to rabble-rouse," she accused Neemey, striding up to the elf and poking them in the chest. "You is trying to make mischiefs when you is supposed to be making pies."

Neemey rolled their eyes. It was remarkably odd to see a House Elf roll its eyes – the human gesture looked entirely different on a creature with eyes that large.

"I was just educating," Neemey said graciously.

Tolly scowled.

"Missy Hermione is wanting to practice popping," Tolly told Neemey. "She is not wanting to wait. If she had a faerie stone, would she be being safe to pop on Imbolc?"

Neemey looked surprised for a moment, before smirking. It looked predatory, on the elf.

"Wanting to practice stepping sideways, on an unsafe date?" Neemey murmured. "Whatever for?"

"Practice," Hermione informed Neemey. She smiled sweetly. "Didn't you already say that?"

Neemey's smirk grew. "I did."

"Would it be being safe?" Tolly stressed. "Tolly does not want Missy Hermione to be putting herself in danger."

Neemey considered.

"It would be pretty safe," Neemey said. "It'd be safest to do during the day or night, though, and avoid dusk or dawn." Neemey's eyes glittered. "That's when… others, we'll say, might be 'popping' themselves."

Hermione felt a thrill of excitement. "The Fae? They ride that night? On Imbolc?"

"They might." Neemey's smirk widened.

Tolly nodded, pleased.

"Then," Tolly said, "Tolly will lend you a faerie stone. It will keeps you safe."

Hermione grinned. "Excellent."

"BUT…" Tolly held up a hand, waggling a finger. "Tolly wants something from Missy Hermione first."

Hermione blinked, surprised.

"Okay," she said. "What can I help you with?"

To Hermione's astonishment, Tolly exchanged a look with Neemey, and Neemey seemed to give Tolly an encouraging nod.

"We House Elves is learning from Neemey," she said, hesitant. "Neemey is saying that we House Elves is being related to goblinses."

Hermione was surprised. "Are you really?"

"Yes," Tolly said determinedly. "We is. And we is… we is wanting…"

"Go on," Neemey urged.

Tolly drew herself up.

"We is wanting to meet with them," Tolly said firmly. "The goblinses."

"You want to meet the goblins?" Hermione repeated, surprised. "Whatever for?"

"Family is being very important to House Elves," Tolly told Hermione. "We was not knowing we is related to them, and we thinks they is not knowing it either. But we is wanting to visit them and make friends. We is having much in common."

Hermione wondered what, exactly, Tolly imagined House Elves had in common with goblins in the slightest.

"And… you want me to help…?"

"Yes," Tolly said, nodding firmly. "We is knowing you is friends with the goblins. We is wanting an introduction, to make friends with them on happy, peaceful terms."

Hermione considered.

"I could do this…" she said slowly, considering. "I need to sneak out to Diagon Alley soon, anyway. I could introduce you to the goblins that day, if you would like."

"That is being perfect!" Tolly beamed.

"If I do this, though, I want to keep the faerie stone for more than just a day," Hermione said. "It will take me time to learn how to practice properly."

Tolly looked to Neemey. "Is it being safe to—"

Neemey considered.

"If you wear the stone, you should be safe to practice on Imbolc and Beltane," Neemey cautioned. "Ostara and Midsummer, you shouldn't need a stone at all. But other days, even with a faerie stone…" Neemey shook their head. "It would not be a wise choice without an elf at your side."

Hermione considered. She'd subdued her fire elemental on Yule purposefully, when it was at its weakest, so fire would be the strongest on Midsummer…

That would give her three days to practice 'popping', and just under six months to fully prepare.

"I'll introduce you to the goblins in exchange for the loan of a faerie stone on Imbolc and Beltane," Hermione said. "Is that a deal?"

"Yes!" Tolly beamed, hopping up and down in place. "It is being a deal!"

Hermione couldn't help but laugh.

"The goblins aren't much like House Elves," she warned. "There might be some distinct cultural differences you'll need to overcome."

"House Elves are being smarter than we look," Tolly dismissed, waving a hand. "We is sure the goblinses will be being very interested to learn we is being related, too."

Hermione paused, considering. She looked around the room, where House Elves were absently hovering spices and stirring spoons as they made dinner, casual wandless magic on display without a second thought.

"You know," she said thoughtfully, "you just might be right."