Hermione had once seen a video of a space mission returning to earth. It had been terrifying – the tiny capsule blazing across the sky, lit up with fire like a meteor crashing. Her father had reassured her – this had happened years before, and everyone had been okay – but the image of the flames flying behind the Apollo 11 capsule that were coming off the heat shield stayed with Hermione, the reason she would never become an astronaut if anyone ever asked.
Making a new ley line felt like being that capsule, burning up as it streaked through the atmosphere.
Hermione felt like she was on fire, careening wildly through existence as she flew through the ground, skin smoldering in the process. Agony ate at her, every nerve cell and fiber she had screaming in pain as if it had been rubbed raw against hot sandpaper. Sharp, stabbing lightning pains burst through her body, every nerve and nociceptor overloading, and Hermione cried out even as her magic drove her forward, screaming as she tunneled a new pathway through magic and reality to her destination.
When she arrived, it was sudden – she was abruptly spat out, dropped back into the material world unceremoniously, where she laid curled in a small ball, gasping, tears streaking down her face.
"You did it." There was an oddly proud tone in Eire's voice. "I knew you would."
From the sound of that self-reassuring statement, Hermione wondered if Eire hadn't known she would manage it after all. Groaning, she slowly pushed herself up to sit up, her body shaking from the aftermath of the pain. Eire was floating nearby, about a foot off the ground, with a smug expression on their face.
"Look," they said, gesturing. "Look at the scar you have wrought upon the world."
Hermione turned to look.
There, in the middle of the air, was a swirling, chaotic blur of magic and energy, red drifting and swirling with violet. Behind it was a lighter, more transparent trail of magic, whisps of color slowly sinking back down into the earth. The opening churned and surged, giving Hermione the distinctly odd impression that she'd left open some interdimensional portal without meaning to.
"It looks angry," she observed, and Eire laughed.
"It's not connected," Eire pointed out. "Ley lines are part of a network, a continuum. They do not generally have dead ends."
Hermione's eyes widened.
"Am I going to have to do that again?" she demanded. "I barely managed it the first time."
"If you managed it at all remains to be seen," came a dry, familiar voice behind her. "Come on. Up."
Blaise's firm hands helped her up, Hermione's legs wobbly with phantom ghosts of pain still coursing through them. Blaise handed her her coven ring, which Hermione put on immediately.
"It will connect eventually," Eire said dismissively. "What is more important – I must teach you how to crystallize a part from yourself with the magic."
Eire led her over to behind the opening, where there was a fading blur of magic as the ley line sank back into the magical realm.
"Weep over this," Eire instructed her. "Let your tears fall through the line."
It didn't take much – Hermione was still so shaken up and raw from the entire experience that it only took one shudder before the tears began to fall. She tilted her head, giving them a faster trip off her face than sliding down her cheeks, and she watched as they fell through the air.
"Merlin," Blaise breathed. "What are those?"
Hermione blinked and wiped her eyes with her sleeve. Blaise had bent down, and now he was standing back up carefully, holding a handful of tiny, glowing droplets.
"Magical crystals," the Fae said in satisfaction. "See how they glow of your magic? Every time you enter a ley line with them, they will be repowered and recharged."
They did have a faint violet glow about them, though they seemed to be made of pure bright light themselves. She reached forward to take one, and she was surprised to find them cool to the touch and smooth, like glass.
"You have created a ley line," the Fae told her. "Any human who does the same will be granted safe passage through the ley lines." Eire nodded toward Blaise. "You will be able to judge success by if they have arrived or not, and what scar they leave behind them upon arrival before it fades."
"So does the resonance have to match?" Hermione asked quickly. "Does it have to match exactly, or can their magic just harmonize instead?"
Eire scowled.
"Harmonization might work." The Fae's words were begrudging. "But a weaker line would result. The more force one blazes forward with, the more likely they will succeed."
"What if a non-human wants to try?" Hermione asked. "What if a goblin or House Elf wants to join me?"
Eire considered.
"House Elves have dual citizenship, should they claim it," they said. "They need not make lines at all. Goblins… their magic fields do not work the same. I doubt they would survive an attempt."
Hermione swallowed. "Right. Got it."
"I apologize if this has been covered before and I missed it," Blaise said, stepping up next to Hermione, holding her arm slightly. "But what do the Fae get out of this deal?"
Neemey cackled in laughter, while Eire looked exasperated.
"There will be more ley lines," they said, as if speaking to someone very dumb.
"And that's good for the Fae?" Blaise clarified.
"That is good for everybody," Eire corrected, "but yes, the Fae as well."
"Why is it good for everybody?" Blaise persisted. "Not everyone can use magic from a ley line."
"Everyone is on this planet," Eire said sharply. Their eyes narrowed, and to Hermione astonishment, the horns of braids began to writhe, as if each braid had become a tiny live snake. "The more magic running through the earth, the longer the earth will live."
"The earth lives off magic?" Hermione said, puzzled.
"No," Eire snarled. "But entropy kills the earth."
"What does that have to do with anything?" Blaise wanted to know.
"EVERYTHING!" There was a blur, and suddenly Eire was ten feet tall, wearing a cloak of chilling, billowing shadows and bellowing down at them. Hermione and Blaise clutched at each other, cowering. "I should KILL you for your insolence! I would, were you not so pathetic as to need so much time to mature your cores—"
"Make ley lines, cry through them, and plant mushrooms," Hermione said quickly. "Is there anything else we need to do?"
Eire stopped snarling, though their cloak still billowed threateningly.
"Plant more trees," Eire said decisively. "Enthalpy is becoming an issue as well."
"More trees; got it." Hermione nodded rapidly. "Thank you very much for teaching me, Coach Eire."
Eire looked down at her, their eyes growing to be entirely black again.
"You would give me your thanks?" they asked.
"I am grateful to you," Hermione said carefully, and Eire grinned wickedly.
"Worth a try," they said. There was a sudden flash of darkness so bright it blinded them, as if they'd seen a flash of light, and when their vision cleared, both Eire and Neemey were gone from sight. Blaise and Hermione looked around carefully, ensuring they were really gone.
"What was that there at the end?" Blaise demanded.
"I think Eire was trying to get me to give them all of my thanks?" Hermione said. "I don't really know what that would mean – maybe I'd never feel grateful to anyone else again? – but faeries play weird word games, and I didn't want to mess around at all."
"No wonder they're to be avoided at all costs." Blaise made a face. "Still. I more meant the turning into a giant and roaring and wanting to kill us out of nowhere..."
"Oh." Hermione paused. "I—I don't know. The Fae – they operate with a different set of morals than us. Like entirely different. So… murder isn't a big deal, for example, but planting trees is an unquestionably morally good act."
"Trees?" Blaise looked at her quizzically. "Why?"
"I dunno," Hermione sighed. "'Enthalpy'?"
"What's that?"
"I don't know," Hermione admitted. "If I've ever heard it before, I've long since forgotten."
Hermione and Blaise found a foot path and wandered around the area for a while. There were a few muggles further up the trail, and every so often, they would come upon a plaque giving them information about where they were.
"The 'mountain of iron'," Hermione mused. "That certainly explains why there wasn't a ley line through here already."
"Wonder if they sell bits of iron from the mountain we can keep with us," Blaise commented, wrinkling his nose. "I wasn't fond of Eire at all."
"It would probably mess up our passage through the lines," Hermione objected. "It'd mess with the frequency or something."
Blaise glanced around.
"Your little helper House Elf friend left, too," he commented. He looked sideways at Hermione. "How did you plan on us getting home?"
Hermione blinked, then swallowed hard.
"Well… I made a ley line, so I can use them safely now," she said slowly. "But you…"
"But me," Blaise confirmed, eyes gleaming. "Are you going to leave me behind?"
"Don't be ridiculous," Hermione dismissed. "But…"
Blaise was watching her, amusement in his eyes and Hermione considered their options. Finally, she sighed.
"Want to be the first one officially initiated into the Shadows?" she asked. "Once you make your own ley line for the first time, I'm fairly certain I can jump us back."
Blaise grinned at her.
"You know, even after seeing your crying and snot-covered face from that ordeal," he said conversationally, "I would love nothing more."
There was a small gift shop in the building with the public toilets, and Hermione bought a muggle pen and notebook, she and Blaise wandering off to sit down on a large rock to brainstorm.
"There's got to be an Oath of Loyalty," Blaise said, and Hermione watched as he made a note.
"Do you think there should be an Oath of Fealty?" Hermione asked.
"Fealty obligates you to provide anyone that joins with protection and aid," Blaise pointed out. "If The Shadows grow as much as we're hoping it does, do you think that'd be feasible?"
"Probably not." Hermione gnawed on her lip, considering. "Still. Part of it needs to be attractive to the candidates themselves, right? Swearing one-way service isn't a way to keep people involved."
"Worked for the Dark Lord," Blaise commented, and Hermione shot him a look.
"Maybe if they swear to the other Shadows," she brainstormed aloud. "That way, if everyone promises to work together to help each other, everyone will end up protected."
"What will that end up looking like?" Blaise pushed. "People losing their magic if they can't help someone else out of a bind? A vague feeling of unease if someone's in trouble?"
"Not sure." Hermione bit her lip. "Is that something we can set, or something we have to test out and see what happens?"
Together, they began to sketch out what an initiation ceremony might look like.
"So we start with planting a circle of trees or mushrooms somewhere," Blaise said, doodling a mushroom on the page. "This is where existing Shadows test the candidate. Then from the center of that circle, the candidate makes a ley line to you."
"I could give them an uncharged pendant to hold," Hermione theorized. "It'd pull them to me, but only one time. After they make a ley line and cry into it, I'll enclose their gem inside, and then it'll have a constant power source from there."
"So when do the oaths and promises take place?" Blaise asked. "Getting a pendant seems like the big finale."
"The candidate makes theirs before they try to make a ley line," Hermione said, Blaise writing it down. "When they come out on the other side, they're going to be crying and overwhelmed, which is what we want. That's when the other shadows come forward and make their oath to protect each other as well as protect the new shadow, then I put the new charged pendant on the candidate to welcome them into the group."
"Have the big moment when they're sniveling and crying?" Blaise questioned, raising an eyebrow, but Hermione nodded.
"People are at their weakest and most vulnerable when they've just had a really intense experience," she pointed out. "Imagine – you've just passed this test, you're recovering from the worst pain you've ever felt in your life, and everyone comes forward to celebrate with you and embrace you. You're revered and celebrated for your success, and suddenly, there's a sense of belonging and community you never had before."
"Love-bombing," Blaise said with sudden realization.
Hermione gave him a quizzical look. "I'm sorry?"
Blaise sighed.
"It's a kind of emotional manipulation," he explained. "With how my mum explained, in romantic relationships, it's when someone 'bombs' you with extreme displays of attention and affection. That way, when they pull back, you feel like you've done something wrong and go after them, which is just what they want." He looked at her. "I think it's done in cults, too – to draw new members in."
Hermione frowned. The idea the magical world had cults was a new, alarming one. Though – Blaise had partially grown up in Italy, surrounded by muggle religious heritage as a child. He might have learned about cults there.
"I'd like to think we'd be using it genuinely to celebrate and welcome new members," she said. "But—I mean, I guess we'd be kind of like a cult anyway, wouldn't we?"
Blaise shrugged. "Maybe."
"Still, no one should be alone after going through such a grueling trial," Hermione said decisively. "We'll celebrate their success. Together, as a group."
"So are initiations a big thing, then?" Blaise asked. "Like on set days, we have a ton of initiations? Or are we doing this one by one?"
"It'd have to be one by one," Hermione said, thinking. "But… maybe not all the Shadows come to every initiation. Maybe some of them are maintaining a public fire and celebration for the new recruits to attend after they get their pendant. That way, we could schedule small groups to go out with each inductee – like a new one shows up at my feet every fifteen minutes, and the group I'm with welcomes them and celebrates with them while I give them their finished pendant, before guiding them to the celebration party, where they can relax and recover and bond."
"I like that idea," Blaise said. "It'd allow us to do one-off initiations in a pinch, but otherwise, we'd be able to keep it organized."
"We'll have to work on the formal wording for the oaths and such, but Susan will probably want to help with that anyway," Hermione said. "Luna will probably have opinions on what we should have them plant, in terms of trees and mushrooms. We'll need to work symbolism in somehow, I guess."
"And Potter can plan the party," Blaise quipped, eyes sparkling. "Gryffindors do know how to throw a good party."
Hermione laughed, and Blaise smiled at her fondly. Abruptly, he looked up, glancing around, then looked at Hermione.
"Hermione?" he asked. "What time is it? If we're going to do this with me, we should probably—"
"Oh, I forgot – once I calmed down from everything, I realized we have a way home whenever we need it without a ley line," she said, dismissively. "Do you want to go now? We can."
"Wait, we do?" Blaise appeared confused. "Wasn't the whole point of this an Apparition-alternative underage people could use to—"
Hermione flung out her wand hand, and a few moments later there was a loud BANG as a towering purple bus appeared, landing somewhat crookedly on a grassy knoll. The door was flung open, and a pimply-looking teenager hung out.
"A quiet, secret alternative," she whispered to him, as the conductor began his spiel.
"Welcome to the Knight Bus!" he announced. "Emergency transport for the stranded witch or wizard – just stick out your wand hand, step on board, and we can take you anywhere you want to go. My name is Stan Shunpike, and I will be your conductor this evening—"
"Great to see you, Stan," Hermione said, pushing past him and onto the bus, pausing to hand him a few galleons. "Ottery St. Catchpole, please, in Devon."
Blaise followed Hermione on board, smirking widely. His eyebrows went up upon seeing the seating situation – half a dozen brass bedsteads – and whistled.
"If you wanted to get me into bed again, Hermione, you need only ask," he said, batting his eyelashes, and Hermione laughed.
"Come on," she said, tugging him along. "I paid for us to get hot chocolate on the way, and we only get served once we're sitting down."