December 1991 to February 1992, 1st year
The winter solstice marked the shortest day and longest night of the year. Yule was the feast of new beginnings and hope.
Naenia's house had been decorated with many evergreens, holly, mistletoe, ivy and yew – all traditional plants that symbolized life, rebirth and renewal among others. The ivy was especially prevalent as it stood for immortality and resurrection, which were both very important to those who practiced the Forbidden Arts.
They had put up a Yule Tree to represent the Tree of Life and decorated it with pinecones, berries and flowers and they had gone into the forest the day before to bring back a piece of oak that they could use as a Yule Log, paying their respects to the old tree by offering a part of their magic and help it heal the wound they had caused.
Now the Yule Log was burning brightly in the hearth of the fireplace in the living room, representing the return of the sun, while Lynea and her family sat together with a nice cup of tea and listened to the adults telling some stories from previous Yule feasts.
Phyllida, Lynea's mother, told them about the Nott tradition of lighting a single candle in each bedroom and leaving it in the window overnight. She told them how they had made wreaths and hung them above the doors and how they had always decorated their tree with jewels and little trinkets.
Grand-aunt Naenia told them about the Malfoy Yule Balls that had died with her generation. Back then, the Malfoys had still employed witches and wizards alongside their house-elves and always made sure to show off their wealth as well as they could.
"I met your grandmother on one of those balls," Naenia said in passing and then went on to describe the numerous decorations and the symbolism behind them.
The Malfoys would use the lighting of the Yule Log to mark the official beginning of the ball and then invite everyone to join them for the first dance of the evening.
"I would dance with Tom among the shadowy figures of the other guests, barely illuminated by the glow of the numerous candles," she said with a faraway look in her eyes. "And then Perseus would step up, and then Nott, and sometimes Lestrange found the courage to ask me for a dance, as well."
Naenia eventually finished with the promise to tell them about the Lémure traditions next year and then they moved on to share the presents among themselves.
Once the Yule Log had mostly burned down, Naenia put away a piece for the next winter solstice and distributed the ashes among their little family, so they could each put some under their pillows for the night.
Then Naenia took her grand-niece outside to perform a sacred Necromancer ritual under the full moon, where they offered their blood to Him as they honoured life and death.
Lynea went to bed with the ashes of a great oak under her head and a lonely, black candle burning in her window.
o
A few days after Christmas, several days after Yule, a beautiful snowy owl delivered a letter from Harry.
"He thanks us very much for the robes," Lynea told her family, "and from the sounds of it, he is still very much overwhelmed by the fact that he received so many presents. And he wonders how we all managed to coordinate our gifts so well." She snorted. "As if we didn't discuss this among ourselves beforehand. Oh, and he received an invisibility cloak from an anonymous person claiming it belonged to his father. Tracey's mother made sure it wasn't cursed or something and it is apparently of such a high-quality as she has never seen before."
On the other side of the table, grand-aunt Naenia went very, very still.
"The son of James and Lily Potter received an Invisibility Cloak," she said and then stood up to retrieve a book from the library. It was an old book on pureblood genealogy and Naenia opened a specific page, tracing an elaborately drawn tree with her fingers.
"Iolanthe Potter, born Peverell," she eventually said and sat back down. "So the boy is related to the Peverells."
"What exactly does that mean?" Phyllida asked.
Naenia continued staring at the book with unblinking eyes. "That Invisibility Cloak is a very great artifact and should be taken care of accordingly." She raised her eyes to look at Lynea. "You would do well to tell him that."
Lynea nodded, not knowing what to make of that.
Her grand-aunt returned the nod and then stood up again, her left hand clenching and unclenching, where she always wore the ugly golden ring-that-was-not-a-wedding-ring.
Lynea, Phyllida and Thelus all watched her leave and then looked at each other in bewilderment, before shrugging it off as yet another of the oddities that defined Naenia.
The topic wasn't brought up again and then it was already time for Lynea to return to Hogwarts for the second term. The first-year Slytherins all met on the train, choosing squish themselves into one of the compartments rather than sitting in the open seating area, and exchanged stories about what they had done during the break.
Harry thanked them all profusely for the presents, once again – he was even wearing one of the warm robes Draco had sent him – and then nearly broke into tears, because he was still so overwhelmed about the fact that he had received any presents at all. Tracey challenged Draco to a game of chess and won, then Harry played and lost to both of them and soon the train was pulling into Hogsmeade station.
"Does anyone know how we're going to get to Hogwarts?" Tracey asked. "Are there carriages waiting for us somewhere?"
"Just follow the older students," Pansy said, "they should know."
"We will be taking the same horseless carriages we took to get from the castle to the station at the beginning of the holidays," a voice said from beside them.
"Hello, Hermione," Lynea and Harry said simultaneously.
Hermione nodded at them and then looked behind them and called out to Neville, who came stumbling out of the train.
They set off down a muddy path and soon the first stagecoaches came into view. They were, however, not horseless at all.
"Are those Thestrals?" Theodore asked, who had gone quite pale in the face.
"Did you not notice them the first time?" Lynea asked and slowly approached one of the skeletal horses. "Look at how beautiful they are!"
"Are you mad?" Theodore exclaimed as Lynea raised a hand to gently stroke its leathery snout.
"Oh, shush, Theodore. They are very gentle beasts. The Lémure family has a herd of their own. I met some of their Thestrals during one of my visits."
"That doesn't make it any better. The Lémures are Necromancers, of course they would be comfortable having Thestrals around."
"Uhm, guys?" Harry said. "What are you talking about?"
"Could you just move already?" Draco demanded. "We can discuss this once we're actually in one of those damn carriages and on our way to the warm and cosy castle."
"Nesh," Lynea muttered, but complied after giving the Thestral one last pet.
There was only enough room to fit four to six people comfortably, so the Slytherins ended up in separate coaches with Lynea joining Draco, Harry, Theodore, Hermione and Neville.
"You were talking about Thestrals?" Hermione asked, unsurprisingly having no problems remembering the exact word and pronunciation Lynea and Theodore had used, despite apparently never having heard or read about them.
Lynea nodded. "They are winged horses that are only visible to those who have seen death."
"They are bad omens," Theodore said quietly. "They bring misfortune to those who see them."
"Nonsense," Lynea said. "They only got that reputation, because most people are unable to see them. And because of their appearance, I suppose."
"What do they look like?" Hermione asked.
"Scary," Neville whispered. "Really scary and intimidating."
Lynea smiled. "To most they do. Imagine a mix between a horse and a dragon, but skeletal. They have dark skin, nearly no flesh on their bones and leathery wings."
"And their eyes," Theodore said. "Don't forget their freakish eyes – white and staring and without any visible pupils." He shuddered. "Like corpses."
"They do resemble mummified horses, don't they?" Lynea mused. "Neville, are you alright?"
"What?" Neville squeaked. "No – Yes – I mean, I am – Alright, that is."
Lynea raised one eyebrow, but it was Harry who said, "You don't look alright, Neville."
"I just … don't like scary things," Neville said and averted his eyes from Lynea.
"Am I scary?"
"Yes," came the chorus of all five of her friends.
"The way you talk about dead horses and how adorable Thestrals look is scary, at least," Draco amended. "Otherwise, there's nothing about you to be afraid of."
"Why, thank you," Lynea said dryly.
"May I … ask why you can see them?" Hermione said tentatively, looking at Lynea, Theodore and Neville in turn.
"My mum," Theodore said quietly. "I was there when she died."
"For me it was my grandfather," Neville said equally as quiet.
Hermione nodded and then looked at Lynea.
"That's – Well –" She sighed. "I live with a Necromancer who owns a mortuary and a funeral parlour. I was confronted with dead and dying people the moment the Lémures took us in."
They spent the rest of the journey in uncomfortable silence.
"I will see you all in class tomorrow," Hermione said, when they entered the Great Hall, and then left for the Ravenclaw table.
"Uh," Neville said.
"Do you want a break from tutoring?" Lynea asked. "You should be fine for this week's potions lesson and the next one, as well."
Neville shook his head. "If you don't mind, I would still like to learn with you all."
Lynea nodded and waved him goodbye, Harry joining her not a moment later. The rest of their housemates entered the Great Hall behind them and the Slytherins set off for their own table, where Vincent and Gregory immediately started piling food on their plates.
Draco wrinkled his nose. "From the amount of sweets you two ate on the train, I would have honestly thought you were already more than stuffed."
Gregory shrugged, then swallowed. "Still hungry."
"Would you like to share some roast chicken with me?" Lynea asked the two boys, who both nodded eagerly, "You, too, Harry?"
Harry hummed, so she carefully cut the chicken in pieces and distributed it between the four of them – although Harry decided he wasn't satisfied with her decision and gave her some more of his share.
"You need to eat more meat," he said.
"And you need to eat more in general," Lynea countered.
"You both need to eat more," Millicent said and promptly dumped some potatoes on their plates, followed by several kinds of vegetables and a Yorkshire pudding for each.
"I won't be able to finish that," Lynea said matter-of-factly.
"I'll eat the rest," Vincent said and Gregory grunted.
Millicent sighed and Tracey reached over to pat her on the back.
"We tried getting more food into Harry over the break," Tracey said. "And he certainly tried his best to eat it all, but it was a fruitless effort."
"Maybe it wasn't," Draco said, looking Harry up and down with a scrutinizing gaze. "I think his cheeks filled out a bit. And he doesn't look that scrawny anymore – at least lost the starved-dog look."
Harry's mouth fell open.
"Manners, Harry," Lynea chided him in amusement.
"I do not look like a starved dog!" Harry exclaimed, once he had regained his speech.
"Not anymore," Pansy said, "but you kind of did. That bird-nest that you call your hair certainly didn't play out in your favour. It still doesn't, actually. We should do something about that, now that you got proper clothes and all."
Harry sighed. "Good luck with that. My aunt and uncle tried for years and never succeeded."
"Well," Pansy said with a smirk. "Your aunt and uncle didn't have magic at their disposal, did they?"
o
Shortly after their return to Hogwarts, Quidditch resumed. Not having forgotten about the last game in the slightest, the Slytherins made sure to keep Harry in their middle and sit between some of the older students, rather than towards the edge of the spectator stands. They needn't have bothered, because absolutely nothing happened during the match, nor the one after that, but 'better safe than sorry'.
At the beginning of February, they celebrated Imbolc, welcoming spring and the stirrings of new life the season would bring. The purebloods showed the others a ritual of purification – salt for the body, incense for the thoughts, a candle flame for the will, water for the emotions, and a crystal for the sprit – so they could perform it together under the New Moon. Traditionally, Imbolc was celebrated either on the first or the fifth of February, but there was a New Moon right between the two dates and all of those who still observed the old traditions – no matter their house or blood status – agreed that that would be the perfect night.
"I do not quite understand the difference between the Yule and Imbolc," Hermione said on the day of the feast.
She had been reading about the eight sabbats in the library ever since one of them had mentioned they celebrated Yule instead of Christmas and was now pestering them with questions about everything she had found so far. Which was less than she would have a few centuries ago and certainly not as informative than what the old pureblood families passed on to their descendants.
"It is a cycle, Hermione," Lynea said, not looking up from her steadily growing cross.
She was making a fire wheel – a Brigid's Cross, were she worshipping its namesake – interweaving reeds in a certain pattern over and over again. It was kind of meditative. And also the reason they were in an empty classroom, and not in the library. (It was still too cold outside for the others.)
"As a part of the cycle," Lynea continued, "each sabbat seamlessly blends into the other, so the symbolism and meaning overlap."
"It's the finer details, right?" Harry said, looking over Lynea's shoulder to watch the motions again and she hummed in agreement. His own fire wheel was coming along slowly.
"Like what?" Hermione asked. "Because I can't find any. It's the same with Litha and Lammas."
"We usually refer to the beginning of autumn as Lughnasa," Draco drawled. He was sitting at one of the desks, working out in which order they should best perform the ritual – from this angle, out of the corner of Lynea's eyes, it looked like a lot of nonsensical scribbling, while he was actually writing down complicated calculations and diagrams.
"But no one can tell you why," Lynea added, tying off the ends of her cross with green ribbons and admiring her work.
Imbolc would be Hermione's first sabbat. It would have been more symbolic for her to start with Yule, but it couldn't be helped. Lynea was just happy to see her willing to give the old traditions a chance, just as Harry was (not that he had much of a choice when his whole house observed those traditions). Draco, on the other hand, had his doubts about letting her participate. He was putting up with the muggleborn for Harry's sake mostly, maybe Lynea's too, but this might actually have been the first time he had agreed to interact with Hermione outside the library, outside their study group – which he had only joined after the winter holidays. If he still viewed her as lesser, then he did a good job of hiding it.
"So?" Hermione said. "What are the differences?"
"Samhain is for endings," Lynea echoed Theodore's word from several months ago, "and Yule is for beginnings. Although a circle has no end and no beginning, we still celebrate the cycle beginning anew. While both Yule and Imbolc represent life and hope and the returning of the light, Yule marks the beginning, the promise of life, with the days growing longer, and Imbolc marks the awakening of the earth, the actual stirrings of life, but also fertility and growth – both of which you can find again in Ostara."
"And so the cycle continues on, endlessly," Draco finished.
They spent the next few minutes in silence as Hermione pondered their words and Harry continued working on his cross. By the time Draco was finished with his calculations, Harry had managed to produce a presentable fire wheel and Hermione had changed the topic, deliberately ignoring Lynea's and Draco's silent sighs of relief, telling them about her newest project. She had mastered the Bluebell Flames to her own satisfaction by now and was working on modifying the spell to fit different needs. As they were not only waterproof, but also less dangerous as real fire, because they didn't harm the wielder, yet still emanated warmth and burned other materials, the Bluebell Flames could be used for a wide variety of applications.
Hermione had perfected the art of conjuring these flames and was now working on producing a jet of flames similar to the Fire-Making Charm.
"I can make them swirl around my wand, like so," she said and demonstrated her knack for completely disregarding her surroundings by nearly blinding Harry, who was walking behind her. "But that is not nearly the amount nor power I wish to put behind the spell."
"Are you putting enough force behind the spell?" Lynea asked. "Apart from the larger quantity of magic needed for this kind of change, you also need the right intention and focus. Your wand does most of that for you, but you still need to put some work into the spell."
Hermione's face lit up. "Of course! Just using a lot of energy will amount to nothing, if I don't concentrate it in one spot – it will simply dissipate." She put her hand to her chin and her voice drifted into mumbling. "But how do I actually achieve that. Understanding the theory is one thing, applying it to real practice …"
"You have more than enough time to figure that out," Lynea pointed out.
"Hopefully without blinding me in the process," Harry quipped, smiling. "My eyesight is bad enough as it is."
They all chuckled at that – the twitch of Draco's lips betraying him, despite his attempt to hide it.
AN
Old art I did of Harry and his friends:
something-rotten tumblr com/post/656140368313729024/harry-and-his-friends-from-chapter-11-of-blue-of