Three

Chapter 3

1 May, 2014

The Potters' house, Godric's Hollow

Beltane morning dawned bright and clear, and soon after mid-morning, the guests started to arrive. Despite her reluctance, Ginny had cleverly utilized a few Muggle shortcuts and thus quite outdone herself with preparing everything. There was a buffet table set up on the paved terrace at the back of the house, convenient to the kitchen and easily accessed from the area Harry had prepared for the celebration. The caterers had thankfully been on time and everything looked as close to perfect as could be expected, with white linen on the conjured tables, and dishes and cutlery laid out close to the platters, serving bowls and chafing dishes. Housewife and cook extraordinaire Molly Weasley might scoff at the store-bought nibbles, but she had to admit that as a working mother Ginny simply didn't have the time to cook for such a large group of people from scratch ‒ not even with magic to help her.

Arthur's delight at getting to sample Muggle delicacies was infectious.

"Have you tried these stuffed pastries, Mollywobbles? They're delicious!" He bit with relish into his third crispy triangle and nearly choked when he started to chew. "Spicy, though," he wheezed.

"They're called samosas, Arthur." Hermione handed him a glass of water and winked at her sister-in-law. "It's a type of snack from India, often eaten as appetizers. Here, try dipping them into the minted yogurt, or one of the chutneys – it'll take some of the heat away." She fondly directed her father-in-law to an array of bowls.

"Mmm." He spooned some condiments onto his plate, dipped and took another, more careful bite. "Oh, that's wonderful!"

Looking skeptical, Molly chose a skewered bright-red prawn and swirled it through a dollop of yogurt. Her eyes widened as the spices exploded on her tongue. "Why, that ... that's ..."

"Great, yeah?" Ron grinned as he refilled his own plate with deep-fried curried cauliflower florets and a generous helping of mango chutney. "I even like the veg!"

Harry turned away from the ensuing good-natured debate when he heard the soft 'pops' of Apparition near the fence and the exuberant yells from Albus and Rose, already rushing forward to greet their best buddy, Scorpius Malfoy, who had arrived with his grandmother and the rest of the Malfoy family.

Well, at least most of them. Somewhat to his surprise, Draco's wife was missing. He accepted their polite excuses and ushered the three adults towards the refreshments while the children dragged their blond friend off towards the other kids.

¨·..·¨·..·¨·..·¨

Some time later, Al and Rose managed to spirit Scorpius into a corner of the garden, away from the group. They huddled behind some raspberry bushes, just hidden enough to be unobserved but not so much to make an adult suspicious. There, they finally got to ask their friend what they'd been dying to know ever since Aunt Andi and the Malfoys had arrived.

"Where's your Mum, Scorp?" Albus asked point-blank.

"Al! Don't be rude!" Rose gasped.

He ignored his cousin's indignant exclamation. "As if you don't want to know," he muttered, looking down to hide the blush he couldn't help. Rose was right, of course, but he also knew his best friend. Left to his own devices, Scorp would take ages to spill the beans, and with so many people close by, they simply didn't have the time to beat around the bush. "Scorp? Can you tell?"

Scorpius grimaced a little – usually, Al wasn't quite that blunt, at least not with him – but he really needed to speak to someone. Who better than his best friends? Sooner or later, he'd tell them anyway. He sighed.

"She stayed at home," he said quietly. "To pack."

"Pack?" Rosie wondered. "Why? Is she going somewhere?"

"Uh huh," Scorpius nodded, fighting down his reluctance.

"But where?" Al asked. "And why couldn't she wait until tomorrow?"

"I don't know," Scorpius murmured. "Father just said she's going away." He paused. "I ... I don't think she's coming back, though." Despite his best efforts to appear calm, like a proper Malfoy, his expression shifted into misery.

"What? Why?"

The blond boy shrugged. "Father didn't say. He often looks sad, though. Or angry. Sometimes both." He sounded as if a big lump had lodged in his throat.

"Have ... have they been yelling at each other a lot?" Rose asked hesitantly, with a growing suspicion where this might be going. Just after Christmas, one of the girls down in Ottery St Catchpole had told her and Hugo that something just like that had happened with her parents, too – only it had been Natalie's dad who'd packed up the car and left. He hadn't yet come back, either.

"No." Scorpius swallowed hard. "Actually, they haven't said much to each other at all lately."

"Sometimes, that's worse." Al's voice sounded very small, and the glance he cast across the garden towards Ginny and Harry appeared rather unhappy. His cousin and friend saw and exchanged worried looks, but were unsure of what to say. "I think maybe the yelling's better."

Wait, both of them? Oh, this is bad.

Turning pale under her freckles, Rose hugged Al with one arm and slid her free hand into Scorpius', trying to comfort both as best she could. Unusually, neither boy objected to her touch. "It doesn't have to mean anything, though – right?" she whispered, for once at a loss for words. She definitely was Hermione's daughter – too intelligent not to draw the obvious conclusions, but that didn't mean she wanted to be right. Not now and not about something like this.

If Scorpius' parents were really splitting up like Natalie's, that'd be bad enough, but ... Uncle Harry and Aunt Ginny, too? Impossible! If only she could run to her mum and ask for an explanation! But she knew the boys would hate her if she did, so she resolved to wait and give what comfort she could in the strained silence settling between them. Luckily for her, it was at that moment that Al's younger sister Lily burst into their hideout.

"Al, Al – Aunt Luna brought chocolate muffins! With buttercream icing and sprinkles! If you want some, come now, before Jamie and the cousins eat them all," the little girl cried excitedly.

When one is only eight years old, sweet treats can ease a lot of worries. Even ones about mothers who pack bags, fathers who are sad when nobody's looking, and parents who either yell or don't speak.

"Yes, let's," Al said, glad for an excuse to escape his thoughts. "Coming, Scorp?"

"Sure."

"Then come on," Rose said simply. Hand in hand, the children ran off.

¨·..·¨·..·¨·..·¨

The day passed; while the weather had turned drizzly around midafternoon, a few discreet charms over the part of the garden that couldn't be seen into by casual passersby ensured that the party remained pleasant and comfortable.

Most of the food had been consumed, drinks had been had by all, and now it was time for the 'real' Beltane celebration to begin. Ginny organized the general tidying-up and storing of leftovers, Harry oversaw the rearranging of seating, and the three matriarchs turned their attention towards the needed paraphernalia. The tablecloth embroidered by Harry's grandmother Evans was draped onto a large, solid-oak table under some early-blooming apple trees, Narcissa deftly arranged a bouquet of spring flowers from the Manor gardens into the yellow-crystal vase, Molly carried over a basket of the bread Ginny had baked and filled an elegant silver-lidded crystal jug with her May wine. Lastly, Andromeda unwrapped the freshly-polished chalice they'd retrieved from the Black vault and placed it in the center of the table-turned-altar, right next to her own silver athame. Together, they lit a few lampions hanging in the trees' branches and then consecrated the area.

All preparations complete, adults and children gathered and sat in a half-circle of conjured seats while Molly and Arthur stepped forward. As the oldest present, they invoked the traditional blessings. Next the Sisters Black distributed sunflower seeds and pieces of bread to everyone and poured each person a glass of the wine, substituting peach nectar for the children. Ginny and Harry as hosts then recited the ritual words they'd chosen beforehand and filled the ancient chalice with clear water, half from their wands and half collected at dawn from a small spring at the edge of Godric's Hollow. As the sun began to set slowly behind the trees, Harry hesitated briefly, letting his eyes sweep over the assembled guests. All of them were either related to Ginny and him by blood or marriage, or had forged deep and lasting bonds of friendship with them in the past.

All except one, that is – and it looked as if their sons, the next generation, were well on their way to form a bond as strong and enduring as any he'd made with Ron, Hermione, Neville and Luna. Andromeda had taught him that it was usually a man and a woman who performed the rite, but it wasn't forbidden, or totally unheard of, to adapt the traditions, so ...

Beltane is a time of new beginnings. And as it's my first time to be the main celebrant, I might as well start as I mean to go on.

Decision made, he followed his instinct and, ignoring his wife's startled glance, motioned towards Draco Malfoy.

"Malfoy – no, Draco: will you join us in performing tonight's Rite?"

Rather surprised, Draco nevertheless got up without hesitation and went to stand beside him. "I am honoured ... and willing," he said softly but clearly, bowing towards both his host and hostess. "As long as you'll explain why me," he added under his breath, so that only Harry and Ginny would hear.

Harry gave him a small smile. "I'm standing in for everybody else in the family, and you're the only other Head of a family present who's not related to me in some way," he murmured. "Well, except Neville, and he can't, on account of his father. It's fitting, and ... It feels right." Ginny snorted almost inaudibly, but chose not to say anything.

Malfoy nodded slowly. With Frank Longbottom still alive, Neville couldn't yet perform certain rituals in his stead as his father was unable to formally pass on the mantle of Head of Family, whereas Draco had led House Malfoy since Lucius' incarceration. "Very well." He paused for a second, then said quietly, "Thank you ‒ Harry."

The Potters acknowledged his thanks, and all three then cast a gentle Incendio at a cast-iron fire basket to light the traditional twenty-seven sticks of ritual woods they'd put in there in lieu of a bonfire.

The flames caught. As the two men, one light, one dark, faced each other across the fire, all present fell silent. The only sound was of wind rustling in the leaves of the trees overhead when Ginny stepped forward. It was unconventional to have two men in the ceremony instead of the traditional man and woman, but she knew Harry well enough to see why he'd chosen to include his former rival. She'd be having words with him over the surprise move later, but for now they had a ritual to complete.

"I greet the time of unions and give honour to the Lord and the Lady for Their fruitfulness. Tonight, I witness the marriage of Goddess and God. May Their union be fertile and productive," she recited, gesturing for Harry to take the gleaming chalice and for Draco to pick up the athame. They did so and grasped each other's left hands.

"Life is more than a gift, it is a promise. All that dies shall be reborn," Harry intoned next, his right hand wrapped firmly around the ancient vessel as he held it crosswise over his and Draco's entwined fingers. The magic embedded in the artefact which he'd sensed first in the Blacks' vault made his whole body tingle.

Draco lifted the athame high. "We now celebrate the most ancient of magics, the magic of joining." As the athame was poised directly above the chalice, a gentle mist rose up from the water, golden against the darkening sky. As soon as it reached the dagger's tip, tiny silver sparks began to shoot from the point of contact. Slowly the small motes of light coalesced and settled around the chalice's rim, making the faded symbols etched into the metal glow with a near-unearthly light. There were a few small gasps from those watching, quickly stifled.

Astonished and intrigued himself, Harry raised both eyebrows, but he dared not interrupt the Rite at this point. Surely Andi, or Hermione, will be able to explain later. Almost seamlessly, he picked up his cue. "The athame is to the Lord."

"As the cup is the Lady," Draco replied with small bows to Ginny as hostess and the three older women as matriarchs. He, too, was surprised – none of the festival rites he'd participated in had ever produced an effect like this. But his magic could sense no danger, and he trusted Potter – Harry – not to let him come to harm. Not that I'd ever admit as much out loud!

While pleased by the small courtesy, Ginny's smile was a tad strained. She was getting a weird feeling about this, as if her world was suddenly tilting on its axis and nothing would ever be quite the same again. It's all Andromeda's fault, she thought furiously for the hundredth or so time. And she'd definitely be telling the woman off once they were done, for seducing Harry into this Pureblood nonsense in the first place! Forcing a calmness she didn't really feel, she made herself continue. "As They are one, They become one. As They become one, They are one. And I am also one with Them." She sketched a pentagram for protection into the air, drew a containment circle around the sigil and then nodded towards the men to complete the ritual.

"United in life and abundance. Blessed Be!" the two said in unison, and Draco slowly plunged the blade into the chalice.

And the glow of the symbols intensified a thousandfold, flaring up and out, enlarging the mist until Harry and Draco were completely enveloped from head to foot in a translucent dome. Gold and silver sparks continued to chase each other across its surface, shining and pulsating with a Power no-one had ever seen or known.

)x( )x( )x( )x( )x( )x( )x( )x( )x( )x(

A/N: The athame ritual was written by Jason Mankey. For the purposes of the story, I've merged it with another taken from lyrasilverhawk's blog. No disrespect to their beliefs is intended.

)x( )x( )x( )x( )x( )x( )x( )x( )x( )x(