"Hermione, are you busy tonight?"
Hermione glanced over at Blaise curiously as she buttered her toast.
"Yes…" she said. "We have Astronomy, and a ritual on top of that. And I have Wizengamot today."
"Right…" Blaise ran a hand through his hair, looking unusually conflicted.
"What is it?" Hermione said, concerned. "Has something come up?"
"Not as such, but…" He shook his head. "Don't worry. I'll figure it out."
Hermione gave him a look, but she did the best she could to put it from her mind.
Harry was very obviously excited about doing a ritual that night. He kept shooting her grins in Transfiguration, even as he struggled to turn his tree branch into a teacup. Hermione grinned back at him, pleased he was excited. She was glad he wasn't still moody and upset about not being officially allowed out because of Sirius Black on the loose.
Susan was also excited. She came up to Hermione before Lockhart's class started, telling her she'd had everyone's ritual robes specially laundered.
"I mean, even if we don't need them, black silk will help us blend into the darkness, right?" she said. "I didn't make these for us to only use them a couple times!"
Hermione laughed. "Of course."
Herbology with Ravenclaw was fine, and then Hermione was trotting up to Dumbledore's quarters to Time-Turn back to attend the Wizengamot with him. When she came back, she Time-Turned again to take a brief nap before dinner – she'd need it if she was going to stay up all night for Astronomy and for their ritual that night.
When she saw Blaise at dinner, he looked at her sideways.
"Can I talk to you?" he asked finally. "After dinner."
Hermione blinked. "Sure."
Blaise took her to an abandoned classroom on the second floor once she was done eating, closing the door and hexing it to curse eavesdroppers. Hermione raised her eyebrows, and he shrugged.
"I'd rather no one overhear," he said.
"Okay…"
Blaise looked at her for a long moment.
"There's not really an easy way of asking this subtly," he said finally. "Is there a limit on how often you can jump back in time in a day?"
Hermione choked.
"I—I don't—"
Blaise rolled his eyes. "I'm not an idiot, Hermione. You're doubling up on Ancient Runes and Divination, and you have the Wizengamot at the same time as classes. You're jumping back in time to do it."
Hermione gnawed on her lip. Blaise sighed.
"I'll phrase it differently, if it makes you more comfortable," he said. "Hypothetically, if you could jump through time to be in two places at once, would there be a limit on how often you could do it in a day?"
Perversely, Blaise's structuring of the question did help Hermione relax.
"Hypothetically," she said, "no. Just the amount of time that could be turned back in one go."
Blaise's eyes gleamed. "Which would be how much?"
"Six hours at a time," Hermione said promptly. "Err – hypothetically, of course."
Blaise tilted his head.
"And, hypothetically," he said, "would it be possible to take another person with you through time?"
Hermione considered.
"Yes," she said. "Probably only one other, though," she added, estimating the length of the chain she wore.
Blaise slowly started to grin.
"Then," he said, "if you are amenable, Hermione, I would like to give you your birthday present this evening."
Hermione blinked.
"…my birthday was days ago?" she said, confused.
"I'm well aware," Blaise said impatiently. "But my gift to you is intended to be an experience, and one that can only happen tonight."
"Oh!" Hermione bit her lip. "On the equinox?"
"Yes," Blaise said. He glanced at his watch. "It would involve you using your magic time-jumper for us both, if you're up for it. We'd need to use it… either directly after Astronomy, and then again to rest before the coven ritual tonight, or we'd need to use it right before Astronomy, and then again to jump back to before Astronomy."
Hermione tilted her head. "What exactly is this, Blaise?"
"I can't tell you," Blaise said plaintively. "It's a present. It's supposed to be a surprise."
Hermione folded her arms and regarded Blaise curiously. He seemed kind of excited, vibrating a bit. His eyes were alight, and Hermione found herself curious as to just what he had planned.
"All this for my birthday?" she said. "This sounds like a lot for a birthday gift. Why?"
Blaise's eyes softened. He took a step closer, taking her hand.
"The best gift I ever got was an experience, from you," he told her. His thumb caressed the back of her hand. "Getting to go and see that play with you opened my mind to so many new things. I'll always remember it." His eyes looked up from her hand to her eyes, dark. "I wanted to give something just as memorable and special to you."
Hermione swallowed hard.
"Okay," she said. Her voice came out weakly, and she cleared her throat. "Okay. I can—we can jump back after Astronomy? If you're sure about this?"
Blaise started to grin widely.
"Oh, I'm very sure," he told her. "This will be brilliant. Just you wait and see."
Astronomy was nearly impossible to pay attention to. Hermione had no idea what Blaise was planning. It was something that had to take place today, so it had to be something else to do with the equinox. It had to be, right? Nothing else really made sense.
But what?
She wondered it was going to be, if it would require them to rest before doing the coven ritual around midnight. She hoped she wouldn't be expected to traipse through the forest in the dark.
When Astronomy was finally over, and everyone returned to their dormitories to go to bed, Blaise's eyes were alight.
"Put on a cotton or linen robe," he told her. "One with less flouncing, if you have it? And meet me back out here in ten minutes."
Hermione blinked, curious. "Alright."
When she returned in a low-cut green robe with rather narrow sleeves, she was surprised to see Blaise in a deep crimson robe.
"I didn't know you owned anything red," she teased. "Is that allowed? I thought Gryffindor had exclusive rights to that color."
Blaise grinned. "They wish."
Hermione glanced around. The common room was empty this late, but she pulled them over to a shadowy alcove by the lake.
"We should probably do this before we leave the room," she said, tugging her Time-Turner out of her robes. "Otherwise we'll be risking Filch and curfew."
Blaise's eyes widened at the little hourglass on the end of the chain.
"This is your magical artifact?" he said. "What is it?"
"It's called a Time-Turner," Hermione said. "Fudge gave it to me after the election."
She looped the chain around Blaise's neck as well, before looking at him.
"How far back do we need to go?" she asked. "It's just past midnight now."
"The full six hours," Blaise told her. "We need it to be before sunset, and that was about a quarter past seven tonight."
Hermione shrugged. "If you say so… we'll need to make sure we don't go somewhere where we were six hours ago…"
As she started to twist the dials, Blaise surprised her by withdrawing a silvery-gray cloak she was familiar with.
"Borrowed it off Potter," he said with a grin. "That way no one will see us appear from nowhere."
Hermione laughed, wondering when Harry had confided in Blaise about his Invisibility Cloak, if she'd missed him mentioning it to the coven. "Alright."
She let the Time-Turner go, setting it spinning, and she watched as the world blurred around them. When things finally settled down, she took the chain off of Blaise and stuffed the Time-Turner back down her bodice. Blaise pretended not to look.
"Seems like most people are at dinner," he whispered to her. "Come on."
Slowly and quietly, Blaise and Hermione snuck out of the common room and into the dungeon corridors. Blaise took the cloak off of them after they'd escaped.
"We need to go up a couple of flights of stairs," Blaise said. "Easier to do that without this on."
They climbed the far set of stairs to the third corridor, where Hermione followed Blaise about halfway down to a statue of a hump-backed, one-eyed witch. Blaise looked around carefully before throwing the robe around them again and withdrawing his wand.
"Dissendium," he whispered, tapping the stone witch, and Hermione watched in astonishment as the statue's hump opened wide enough to admit a person. Blaise ushered her forward, and Hermione hoisted herself into the hole.
She slid a fair way down what felt like a long stone slide, but one immeasurably cleaner than the one that led to the Chamber of Secrets. When the slide levelled out, she was in what seemed like a narrow passageway of cold, damp earth. Blaise was a moment behind her, muttering, "Lumos!" and lighting his wand.
"Where are we?" Hermione wondered. "Where are we going?"
Blaise grinned.
"We're sneaking out," he informed her. "We're sneaking past the dementors and into Hogsmeade."
Hermione gasped.
"You're not serious," she said. "We can't sneak out of school!"
"Why not?" Blaise challenged.
Hermione paused.
"…okay, so we shouldn't sneak out of school," she said finally. She glanced around. "How did you find out about this place, anyway?"
Blaise smirked. "Traded the Weasley Twins."
"Traded them what?" Hermione wanted to know.
"Gossip," Blaise shrugged. "They wanted to know who was on the Slytherin Quidditch team this year." He smirked. "They want time to figure out what insults will be the most effective, I think."
"Yes, always more effective to find out your enemies' psychological weaknesses and vulnerabilities beforehand," Hermione said, rolling her eyes. "Not like they're going to resort to name-calling at all."
Blaise laughed.
"Maybe it's their new team strategy?" he teased, leading her through the earthen passageway. "Anyway, it's nothing to me – I don't care about Quidditch, and it was worth it for this."
The passage was long, and it took about half an hour to walk. As soon as they got to the end of the passageway, though, Blaise stopped.
"That trapdoor, should we take it, would lead us out into Honeydukes' basement," he told her.
"Should we take it?" Hermione asked. "Implying we will not be taking it?"
"No need," Blaise dismissed. "We've gone far enough to be outside the Hogwarts wards, so it's safer to stay in here."
With great pinache, he withdrew a playing card from his pocket – the Queen of Diamonds.
"…and this is what?" Hermione asked finally.
"A Portkey," Blaise told her. His eyes glittered. "Ready, Hermione?"
Cautiously, Hermione took the other half of the playing card.
"We'll go as soon as it's ripped in half," Blaise warned her. "Hold on?"
Hermione took his right hand with her left, meeting his eyes, and a moment later, they ripped the playing card in half.
There was a sharp pull behind her navel, and Hermione found herself spinning through gray as the Portkey whirled them through space, and she only narrowly avoided crashing into Blaise as they landed, her stomach swirling. Her vision was full of dancing black and white stars, and she rubbed at her eyes to clear them.
"That was violent," Hermione coughed, distasteful. "Most Portkeys aren't that bad."
She could feel Blaise shrug. "It's a black-market Portkey. It's not going to be the smoothest journey, you realize?"
Hermione rolled her eyes, well knowing Blaise had deliberately chosen not to mention it was a black-market Portkey until after it had already been used. With a sigh, she shook her head, clearing it the rest of the way before looking around her to finally see where they were. She gasped, her eyes darting up to Blaise's, but Blaise only grinned.
"I thought you'd be pleased," he said, satisfied. "Come on."
And, her hand in his, Blaise tugged her forward.
Hermione didn't recognize exactly where they were. It appeared to be mostly-empty fields on the edge of nowhere, and could be anywhere in the countryside, really. But there was a massive bonfire in the middle of the field, with people surrounding it. There were shouts of laughter and merriment, and as they got closer, Hermione saw a dozen tables set up, and many people with tankards of drink and others dancing round the fire.
"Witch-girl!"
Hermione turned just in time to see Derek, the hedgewitch boy she'd made acquaintances with, come bounding up to her, beaming.
"Derek!" she exclaimed. "It's so good to see you!"
"It is." Derek grinned at Blaise, who smirked back. "Glad to see you made it out okay."
"It was no problem," Blaise dismissed. He looked down at Hermione. "Do you want to see the festival?"
Hermione's eyes lit up. "Would I ever!"
Derek cheerfully played tour guide, taking them around the crowd of people. There were picnic tables set up around the perimeter, each with a different thing on them. The ones bearing large casks and tankards were fairly self-explanatory, but Hermione was intrigued by some of the other ones.
"They're making wreaths," Derek explained. "You hang it on your door to show your gratitude for the land for providing for us."
"They're so pretty!" Hermione exclaimed. "How do they weave them so fast?"
"Well, they've all had a lot o' practice through the years by now, I reckon," Derek said, grinning. "Same as any other skill, I s'ppose."
Hermione was fascinated as Derek led them around, pointing out one area where people were getting their fortunes told, another where people were making dolls out of corn husks and ivy, and another where people were mixing things in bowls with mortars and pestles.
"They're making dyes," he told her, "for the runes later. A few people will be chosen to wear the runes and lead the ceremony for us all."
"What runes?" Hermione wanted to know. "What does the ceremony do?"
Derek scratched his head.
"I don't rightly know all the runes," he admitted. "But one of the people will symbolize the Reaper, who'll come and demand of our harvest. The other one will represent the earth. It—it'll make more sense when you see it, trust me."
"Do you do any rituals during the ceremony?" Blaise asked, his voice very casual, and Derek's eyes lit.
"Yes! This is one o' the few that we usually get a result at," he said, grinning. "When we make an offering to the land, generally the land gives us back a blessing or magic." He seemed excited. "Maybe with a couple real witches here this year, we'll get a real result!"
Blaise objected to that, and he and Derek started discussing the word 'witch' and just what it meant. While they bickered, Hermione tuned them out, curiously examining the area. There was nothing here to indicate that there should be a celebration here – just another spot in a far-reaching field, but somehow, the area resonated as right.
Closing her eyes, Hermione centered herself, before reopening her eyes and reaching out with her magic into the ground.
Her eyes seemed to sparkle almost, before she realized what she was seeing – her magic had entered directly into a ley line, without pulling on it. She shifted her awareness, looking, and she saw that the bonfire had been lit directly above a nexus, where two ley lines were crossing. She wondered for a moment if the grove where the House Elves did Wassailing was also such a place, one with magic hovering in the air.
She pulled back her awareness, her curiosity growing.
"How did you pick this place?" Hermione interrupted, cutting into Blaise's explanation about wizardry. "Was it by chance?"
Derek frowned.
"I mean, there are spots all o'er the place, but this has always been one for festivals?" he ventured. "It's been one for a long time, back when people used to sacrifice an animal for the Reaper, too."
"Sacrifice?" Blaise's tone was polite but incredulous, and Derek scowled.
"You kill a cow for meat any other day, and it's fine, but no, kill it to drain its blood into the ground first before you eat its meat, and now suddenly it's dangerous," he spat. "The Ministry needs to butt out of our lives. 'S nothing wrong with killing an ox or cow. Feedin' your magic's as important as feedin' your body, innit?"
That answered her original question – at some point, someone had identified this place as a nexus, and a good place to work magical rituals. If they were going to make an offering to magic, and magic was going to offer something back, this would be a good place to do it.
"Who's going to run the ritual?" Hermione asked Derek.
Derek pointed. "Ol' Man Hobbs. He's o'er here."
He led them over to the table where people were preparing dyes. Old Man Hobbs, as Derek introduced him, had one eye, an eyepatch, and (to Hermione's surprise) didn't look over fifty.
"Hello, I'm Hermione," Hermione said, introducing herself. "This is all so new to me! Can I ask you a few questions?"
Hobbs looked at her suspiciously, his one eye darting up to Derek, before his shoulders slackened some. "Can't really stop you, can I?"
Blaise laid a hand on Hermione's shoulder. "I'm going to go get a drink. Shout if you need me, love?"
"Sure," Hermione said absently, already leaning over to look at the pigments Hobbs was working on. "So how does this work?" she said eagerly. "You're going to represent the Reaper?"
Hobbs' grin was fierce. "Somethin' like that."
Slowly, Hermione pulled the whole story out. One man was chosen to represent the Reaper, which was the coming winter. One woman was chosen to represent the land, the Earth and her magic, and the Reaper would symbolically kidnap her and carry her away.
"E'eryone makes an offerin' to the Earth, then," Hobbs told her. "If the offerin' is sufficient, the Reaper promises to return her in the spring, but if it's not, winter will last o'er the land forever."
"What's the offering?" Hermione asked. "Derek said you used to use an ox, but that's been forbidden and you can't anymore."
Hobbs looked at her sideways. Hermione kept her face still, doing her best to show nothing but genuine curiosity.
"Generally, e'eryone sheds some blood," he said gruffly. He gestured toward the crowd. "Jus' a few drops, but it's enough."
Hermione looked toward the crowds. Everyone was celebrating and seemed highly cheerful, with dancing and songs going on. As she looked, though, she noticed that most people had small daggers sheathed at their hips – something she hadn't seen the hedgewitches have when she'd visited them before.
"And… that works?" she said. "Sacrificing blood to the earth helps restore her magic?"
"Somethin' like that." Hobbs made a face. "Generally, the woman chosen leads the ritual. The response we get from the earth tends to depend on how good her magic is."
Hermione bit her lip.
"I was under the impression most hedgewitches did not have strong magic?" she ventured carefully. "Is that true?"
"That's why the witch leadin' it is important," Hobbs said, growling. "If we get a weak one, the earth doesn't listen to our offerin' much."
Hermione wondered if it was so much the case that the Earth wasn't listening, or that the hedgewitches couldn't hear.
"Who's your witch leading it this time?" she asked.
"Dunno," Hobbs said, shrugging. "None o' the girls much like to lead it. Tends to hurt, they say. They usually pull names out o' a cauldron."
Hermione's eyes went wide.
"Thank you," she said, slowly standing up. "You've been a great help."
Hobbs looked up at her suspiciously.
"Be careful where you go, witch-girl," he growled. "Don't you be tellin' the Ministry none o' this."
"I would never," Hermione assured him. "Thank you again!"
The table of women who were making wreaths was laughing, and the women smiled at her as she approached.
"Hello," Hermione said. "I was just wondering – who's been chosen as the representative in the ritual tonight?"
The witches glanced around at each other, each shrugging.
"No one, yet," one of them said. "It's not like the men's – Hobbs does that part every year. It hurts, for the woman."
"Channeling the power of the offering can be hard," one of the women explained. "It burns through you, and the earth's responding offering kind of burns coming back up."
Hermione gnawed on her lip.
"I understand I am largely an outsider to your ways," she said carefully, "but if no one else would like to do it, I would like to volunteer for the role."
Several of the women froze, before slowly turning their eyes onto her.
"Why?" one woman demanded. "You come to mess up our ritual so we don't get our magic?"
"I would never!" Hermione said hastily. "I hope to do the exact opposite!"
"What d'you mean?" another woman said suspiciously. "We just said it hurts something awful, and then you go an' volunteer?"
Hermione considered her words carefully.
"I think," she said, "that channeling a large amount of magic can be very difficult and very painful for those who are not accustomed to channeling large amounts of magic." She glanced around at them. "I have some experience in channeling large amounts of magic myself. I think I might be able to help the ritual go smoother and come off even stronger."
The women looked dubious.
"The tales say that when the lord and lady o' the land came out to celebrate with the people, the resultin' rituals were stronger," one woman said slowly. "The lass might have a point."
"And if we're wrong?" another woman shot back at her. "If she's just here to sabotage us?"
"Oh, don't get yer knickers in a twist," another woman scoffed. "S'not like she could do much more damage than we do to ourselves, innit? Las' year we barely got a blessin' when Maria did it."
"I don't like this," the aggressive witch grumbled.
"Do you want to do it?" the other asked pointedly. The aggressive witch grumbled and turned back to her wreath, plaiting leaves and flowers together, and the other one looked smug.
"I don' have a problem wit' it," she informed her. "If anyone ever volunteers, it makes things easier on the rest o' us, so go ahead. But be sure to tell Ol' Man Hobbs – this might change things on his side."
"Right. Thanks."
Hermione made her way back to the table with Old Man Hobbs, where Blaise and Derek were standing with tankards.
"Having fun?" Blaise asked, smiling at her. "We saw you talking to the women."
"Of a sort," Hermione said. She turned to Old Man Hobbs, who squinted his eye at her. "I'm to be the women's representative in the ritual," she said without preamble. "Is there anything I need to do to prepare?"
Hobbs' eye widened enormously, and Blaise groaned.
"You?" Hobbs accused. "Why you?"
"You're New Blood!" Derek exclaimed at the same time. "Of course it should be you!"
Hermione and Hobbs both turned to look at Derek, who looked pleased with himself.
"What?" Hobbs growled.
"How did you know that?" Hermione asked, blinking. "I don't think I ever mentioned that to you."
"She's New Blood," Derek said confidently to Hobbs. "It was in the paper – Magic touched her directly, Hobbs. If anyone can channel our magic properly to the Earth, it'd be her."
Blaise was avoiding Hermione's gaze, and Hermione found herself wondering just how much he'd talked with Derek ahead of time to arrange all this, or if he'd shown Derek the paper that had covered her prophecy. Hobbs looked at Hermione very suspiciously.
"How come I ne'er heard o' this?" he demanded.
Hermione kept her voice even.
"New Bloods are very rare," she offered. "And you might have missed it in the paper."
Hobbs' eyes flashed, and Hermione wondered if he knew how to read.
"Are you sure about this, boy?" he snapped at Derek. Derek looked startled for a moment, then stubborn.
"I'm very sure," he shot back. "I bet we get the best ritual result with her ever, old man."
Old Man Hobbs growled. "Well, we'll see about that."
He stood up suddenly, glowering.
"Boy," he shot at Blaise. "What's your name?"
"Me?" Blaise was startled. "Ah—I'm Blaise. Blaise Zabini."
He offered Old Man Hobbs a bow, which Hobbs scoffed at.
"None o' that fancy stuff here," he dismissed. "You're gonna have to get dirty if you intend to let your woman do this."
Blaise choked. "What?"
"Let me?" Hermione protested. "What's he got to do with my decision?"
"There's magic in symbolism, girl," Hobbs said. "Part o' the symbolism here is the Reaper carryin' away the Earth an' her magic." He fixed his eye on Blaise. "The story doesn't quite have the same meanin', if it's an old man kidnapping a young witch."
Blaise looked uneasy. "I see."
"You do?" Hermione asked. "I don't."
"It's fine, Hermione," Blaise said. "Think of it like a symmetry thing – your partner in the ceremony should be a closer match to you."
"Oh." That made sense to Hermione. "So you or Derek should play the Reaper instead?" she asked. "Or someone else close to my age."
Blaise looked at Derek, who took a step back, holding his hands up in amusement.
"Not me," he said, grinning. "Besides, witch-girl, a closer match would be your classmate, yeah? Someone whose strength o' magic is closer to yours?"
Hermione considered. "That makes sense." She looked up at Blaise, who looked abruptly relieved. "Are you willing?" she asked. "To do this with me? To play the Reaper?"
A slow smile spread over Blaise's face.
"Well, this is your birthday present," he teased her. "I can hardly deny you now, can I?"
Hermione beamed.
