As the night wore on, there was some prep work to be done. The women of the celebration gave Hermione a white, gauzy dress to wear that had short, fluttery sleeves and fell to her knees, which surprised Hermione - she'd thought all witches and wizards only wore full-length clothes. Maybe the hedgewitches were more free about that sort of thing, she wondered. Either that, or Draco had grossly overreacted when he'd first seen her in a dress.
Hermione also had to sit very still while the women plaited a traditional crown of flowers into her hair.
"The Reaper will come and demand to take you away," Coraline, one of the women, explained to Hermione as she braided her hair. "He'll give some speech about how you gave all you had, and how he has come to take you away now. The village will cry out that we will offer of ourselves back to the earth, to not take you away. You'll respond with your lines about how life and death is a cycle, and you'll bargain with the Reaper that if the Earth should accept the people's offering, how he must promise to return you come next year."
"That's when you'll lead the ritual," Maria said. She looked grim. "It will hurt."
"How's the ritual go?" Hermione asked.
"You just do what your magic guides you to, really," Maria admitted. "People will all cut themselves and bleed onto the ground, and you'll need to try and communicate to the earth that there's an offering, and to 'catch' whatever blessing the earth offers back to help us survive the winter." She shrugged. "Everyone does it a bit differently. We don't stand on much stuffiness, here – we do whatever magic tells us is right."
"Right. Got it." Hermione bit her lip. "What happens then?"
"Well, after the offering, the people will demand that the Reaper bring you back next year," Coraline said. "The Reaper will concede, saying that our offering was enough to restore the cycle, and then you'll go off with the Reaper into the woods."
Hermione frowned. "I go off with him anyway?"
"Well, he'll be chasin' you and tryin' to catch you to carry you away a' first," one of the women said. She was missing a tooth. "Difference is him walkin' wit' chou, 'stead a' him draggin' you off."
"I see," said Hermione. She took a deep breath. "And this will happen soon?"
"Soon as the men are ready," Coraline assured her. "Your partner has to get ready too."
Hermione's eyes instinctively sought out Blaise's, but she couldn't see him through the cluster of men surrounding the pigment table.
"Don't peep," Maria admonished. "You'll see soon enough."
"There!" Coraline stepped away from Hermione, examining her hair and looking pleased. "You're set. Go and join the dance, now – the Reaper'll come when he's ready."
Obedient, Hermione went to dance around the fire with the others, where they whooped and welcomed her with open arms.
To Hermione's surprise, there were children present as well – many of them running around underfoot, holding hands and dancing in circles on the innermost edges of the circle, closer to the fire. They seemed the least bothered by the heat, and Hermione was surprised that none of the adults (or teenagers, she amended – they weren't all quite adults either just yet) showed concern about the children being so close to the fire. No one seemed worried, though – on the contrary, everyone was quite merry, and they laughed and lured her into their dancing.
Hermione quickly lost herself, laughing as she was passed from partner to partner. She recognized Worm and Aurican as she danced with them for a moment, before being passed along again, seeing Clover in the crowd, who shot her a devious grin. Hermione laughed and danced, finally getting the hang of some of the steps and moves. It was very free and flowing, and nothing at all like the traditional ballroom dancing Hermione had imagined she'd need in the wizarding world.
Suddenly, there were shrieks and the dancing sputtered to a stop, and there was a loud growl.
"Where is she?" a low voice demanded. "Where is the one you have taken so much from?"
"We know not of what you speak," one of the men shouted back. "Go away, and leave this place."
There was a responding snarl. "Never!"
The crowd parted, and Hermione gasped.
She'd expected some sort of costuming for the Reaper part as well.
But she hadn't expected this.
Blaise had been given something new to wear – a pair of cut-off dark linen trousers, hacked off above the knee – but above the waist, Blaise was entirely bare, wet red runes and symbols glinting slightly in the firelight off his skin. On his head he wore the top part of an enormous ox skull, polished horns curling back from his head.
It was intimidating, dark, and powerful. The firelight danced on his figure, creating shadows over his body, with the wet paint on his chest gleaming, and the ox skull changed his silhouette from that of a man into something far more terrifying and primal.
Blaise's eyes flashed underneath his helmet of a skull, and he stepped forward aggressively. The people around him shrieked and parted in front of him, and in a booming voice, he demanded again, "Where is she?"
Though no one said anything, his eyes were suddenly drawn to hers, and Hermione was quite sure she stopped breathing.
"There!"
He raced towards her, and with a scream, Hermione took off running, ducking and weaving through the crowd.
Hermione wasn't sure if this was how this was supposed to be unfolding. Blaise was calling out some lines, something about them exploiting the Earth or somesuch, and the hedgewitches were answering protests back that Hermione was vaguely aware of. But it was hard to concentrate with her blood pounding through her veins and her lungs burning as she raced to escape Blaise, who looked more like a demon than any 'Reaper' she had imagined.
She glanced back, legs burning, to see Blaise still chasing her as he yelled out his lines, and she put on another burst of speed, trying to escape. Blaise's eyes glittered at her from under his skull mask, and then he was running faster too, and suddenly he was upon her, and Hermione shrieked as he caught her in his arms.
Blaise snarled out his next lines at the villagers, something about taking her away, but Hermione was too breathless to hear them. The heat of Blaise's bare chest seemed to burn through her thin dress from behind her, strong arms wrapped around her front, and she'd never heard Blaise talk in a voice like this – when had his voice gotten so low?
"We will give back!" she vaguely heard people yelling. "We will give of ourselves to restore the Earth and her magic!"
The line vaguely registered to Hermione, piercing through to her thoughts.
"That's my cue," she murmured to Blaise.
Blaise glanced sideways, his eyes holding Hermione's for a long moment before his arms slackened a bit, and Hermione broke free, stumbling forward and out of his arms.
"You had better," Blaise growled at them all, but he took several steps backwards, content to watch.
Hermione refocused on the situation at hand, biting her lip. All of the villagers had formed a circle around the fire, but the fire itself was directly on the nexus of the ley lines. Hermione found herself wishing that she'd gained and mastered a fire elemental already, so she could have stood directly in the flames.
"Life and death is a cycle," Hermione told Blaise. "With magic, it ebbs and flows." She turned to the townspeople. "With an offering, we will renew this cycle—" she turned back to Blaise, accusingly "—reopening what you would close."
Blaise looked mildly surprised. Hermione felt surprised herself; she hadn't expected to be making rhymes (regardless of how bad her pacing was), but it made sense in a weird way – all ritual magic up till now had been done in verses for her, so why would Magic guide her any differently now?
"We open our flesh to give our blood," Hermione said, gesturing, and she watched as the people took their knives. Several looked to her for instruction, and Hermione mimed cutting her hands, and there were reluctant faces as they did as they were told, cutting into their palms. "May our life restore the earth's own."
That was good so far, she thought. She watched as everyone offered their blood to the earth, dripping on the ground, while some had to pass their daggers to others who didn't have one, and she instinctively winced at the health implications of that all.
After everyone had bled in a circle, they looked at her expectantly.
"We take each other's hands to restore the balance," she said, holding out her own hands, and she watched as the villagers obediently took each other's hands, "in the way that Magic has shown."
The villagers were a circle now, surrounding her and the fire, with Blaise standing outside the circle ominously, firelight glinting off of the skull off to the side. Hermione extended her awareness of her own magic, feeling the magic and potential of the blood offering vibrating on the earth, and she took a deep breath.
"With our blood and power, we make our offering," Hermione called out, "so your magic might be restored. With this offering, we plead with you – Magic, come back in the spring once more!"
Hermione clapped loudly, and there was a loud roar in her ears as magic rushed up to meet her. Somehow, it sounded like someone was screaming, and the sound echoed in her ears.
The others were right, Hermione thought dimly – it hurt. The rawness of the blood offering seemed to sear through her veins and nerves, but Hermione grit her teeth, focusing on making her own magic a conduit, not something to hold the offering, and she felt the power from their offering rush through her as she channeled it deep into the earth. As it reached the ley lines, she swore she could almost feel the ley lines react, as if being tinged with the dark red of their collected offering, squirming and dancing in the land. Hesitantly, Hermione reached out with her own magic to tap the nexus of the lines, and she gasped as the ley lines' magic rushed through her.
She'd done this before – Hermione cleared her mind, shifting her magic so she was just a conduit, not holding any of the ley line magic at all. Though her eyes were closed, she could hear gasps and murmurs around the circle as she felt the ley line magic rush through them all, coursing from bloodied palm to bloodied palm. The ley line magic was flowing into them, she realized, changing – their own magical containers, with their own paltry cores, were being flooded with magic from the ley line. The blood from their offering was guiding the raw magic through their cores, making it theirs, until the townspeople were practically brimming with power.
As if satisfied, Hermione felt the ley line hum as it returned to her, indicating a balance, and Hermione guided the ley line's power back down into the earth, sending after it a wordless hum of thanks. The ley line felt almost amused, somehow, as if it were alive, but Hermione made sure it felt her gratitude nevertheless.
Stretching her neck and hands, Hermione opened her eyes, eager to see what the ritual had wrought.
At first, there was nothing – just stunned townspeople staring at their hands in wonder. Hermione wondered if they could literally feel magic at their fingertips until she realized that no one was bleeding any longer – the magic had healed their cuts.
Well, she mused, at least that was a good indicator something had been done.
Slowly, one woman stepped forward, hesitant. She held her hand out, and with a gesture, suddenly her hand was full of bluebell flames. The crowd gasped.
"Cold fire," someone murmured.
"Lumos!"
Someone else cried out, and suddenly a ball of light appeared above him, hanging in the air, and the man's jaw dropped.
"I—I did that," he stuttered. "I did that."
The crowd murmured around him, stunned.
"Your offering of blood and life has been accepted," Blaise said, stepping forwards. "The bounty of the earth will be restored to you come the spring. But be careful what you do with this gift of magic," he warned. "Who knows what chaos from wild magic might you wring?"
He extended his hand to Hermione, who wordlessly moved toward him and took it. Once she grasped his hand, his eyes seemed to glow at her, and suddenly they were running away from the fire towards the forest, feet pounding on the ground.
"Do we really have to get to the forest?" Hermione said, panting. "Or is it just the idea?"
"Not sure," Blaise said, breathless, "but that's where Derek said he'd put my robes."
Inside the forest was a torch, and next to it two sets of robes. There was a creek Hermione could hear burbling, and she glanced at Blaise hesitantly.
"There's water," she said, unsure. "If you want to…"
She trailed off, her eyes tracing the runes on Blaise's body.
Up close, Hermione could recognize some of the runes. Hagalaz and Isa were primary on his body, painted onto his biceps, with merkstaved Teiwaz and Ehwaz as well. Dagaz and Jera were brushed onto his pectorals, Kenaz and Uruz painted onto his thighs, while Gebo and Wunjo glowed on the back of his hands.
"Think I should wash this off?" Blaise's voice was low, husky. "Maybe I should."
"It could get on your robes otherwise," Hermione said, her voice hoarse. She didn't realize she was still holding his hand until he squeezed hers, and Hermione felt the gesture burn through her. "You probably should."
Wordlessly, Blaise pulled away, and Hermione felt bereft as his hand left hers, her own hand suddenly cold. Blaise took the giant skull off from his head and set it aside, first, before slowly approaching the creek. He tentatively stepped a foot into it and winced.
"The water's cold," he said quietly. The faraway sounds of the crowd celebrating and cheering filtered faintly into the woods.
Hermione watched, breathless, as Blaise climbed into the creek. It only came up to about his waist, barely skimming the top of his shorts, and Blaise took a deep breath before dunking his head under, vanishing from sight. He reemerged a moment later, gasping, his eyes wide and bright.
"Merlin's tits, that's cold," he said, gasping. "Gotta get this done quickly."
Hermione had seen Blaise like this once before, before they'd united as a coven. Then, though, she'd been purified of purpose, and her eyes had stayed on his face the entire time. Now, though…
Now, Hermione's eyes burned as she watched Blaise rub the paint from his body, his skin glistening and dripping water in the torchlight.
When he was done, he stepped out of the river, shivering, and without a thought Hermione blanketed him in a rush of warm air, and Blaise relaxed with a sigh.
"I need to get good enough to do that," he said, closing his eyes. "Oh, that's so much better. That water was cold."
Blaise put on his robes first, taking off the wet shorts after his robes were on, and he turned his back while Hermione shucked her linen dress and quickly did up her own cotton robe. She left the flower crown in her hair.
"They're celebrating," Blaise said, facing the bonfire. "They seem even louder now, actually."
"Shall we go see?" Hermione asked, bundling her dress up. "Are we allowed back now?"
Blaise glanced at her. "I mean, I think so. We're just 'Blaise and Hermione', now, not 'the Reaper and Lady Earth' or whatever we were."
Hermione flushed. Something about the phrase 'just Blaise and Hermione' made her face warm.
"Well, then…" Hermione took a deep breath. "Let's go."
As they reached the edges of the celebration, Hermione saw Clover, whose eyes met hers and flared in recognition.
"They're back!" she called out. She raced towards Hermione, grabbing her hands. "Nimue alive, witch-girl, what was that?"
"What?" Hermione objected, stumbling after Clover as she dragged her in. "I was supposed to lead the ritual!" Clover dragged her to the middle of everyone, back near the fire, and Derek pushed his way through.
"You did," he told her. A slow grin spread across his face. "But Hermione, realize… none of us have ever felt magic like that."
Hermione's curiosity tingled at her. "What did the magic feel like?"
Eager townspeople crowded around, telling her how they felt alive, how they suddenly felt complete, like they could do anything, and several people wanted to show her spells they'd picked up along the way somewhere. Hermione was pleased to see that the hedgewitches could cast magic with magic the earth had gifted them – though she was a bit worried about them doing so carelessly without wands.
"I told you!" Derek crowed at Old Man Hobbs. "I told you New Blood would be the best one to use!"
Even Old Man Hobbs was giving her a reluctant, wizened smile.
"I haven't felt magic like that since they snapped my wand," he said finally. "I never expected to ever again. Well done, witch-girl. Well done."
Hermione felt a hand settle onto her shoulder, and somehow she could sense it was Blaise.
"Hermione's good at that," he said from behind her. "Subverting everyone's expectations and blowing them away like that."
Hermione colored but grinned.
"I'm supposed to, aren't I?" she teased, turning to look up at Blaise. "The New Blood to change the world and all that?"
Blaise's eyes glowed at her in the firelight.
"You are indeed," he said. He caught her hand in his, raising it to his lips to kiss while his eyes held hers. "That you are."