Fall Equinox Ritual

263 Done during the mabon celebration.

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## Overview & Background

"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."

## Play by Play

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?"

> Chapter 263: The Villagers' Ritual | Hermione and Blaise lead Mabon with the Hedgewitches
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