CH50 - Beltane is Nigh

Edmund's eyes snapped open into wakefulness in an instant. He had not been frightened out of his sleep. Nor had something disturbed him and cut off his resting period. His body had decided that it was time to get up and had prodded him awake decisively.

Stretching his muscles and rolling from a lying position into a sitting one, Edmund felt almost none of the stiffness he was so used to experiencing after slumber.

Reaching under his pillow, he took hold of his wand and cast a Tempus charm silently and without wand movements. The spell had been performed by him thousands of times at this point. The methodology of accomplishing it had become ingrained into his instincts. Even if he made a mistake in visualizing his desired product, his wand would correct it for him.

Not that it needed to anymore. Now, merely considering the charm made him remember each instance in which he had executed it before and what he had been thinking when he cast it. There simply was no more potential for error left within him.

The numbers coalesced from his surroundings like a mist, quickly forming into legible digits.

3:00 AM.

He had gone to sleep at 11:00 PM on the dot and had woken up exactly four hours later to the minute.

It was funny to think about.

Only six months ago, after the dementor attack at the quidditch pitch, he had roused after more sleep than this, feeling absolutely exhausted. Even talking had been tiresome at the time, let alone getting his limbs to function.

The difference was like night and day.

Edmund doubted that even if he wanted to go back to sleep, he would be capable of doing so. His body was akin to a machine, with strict hours designated for inactivity.

It was odd going to bed in the darkness and waking up to it once more. The occurrence was nothing new to him, especially in Scotland at this time of the year. Nevertheless, knowing that he was likely the only person awake in the castle was strange. The feeling was subdued as he got ready for the day in his empty dorm room. However, entering the common room with only the sound of his heel sinking into the plush carpet being audible brought it to the foreground.

His body and mind might have been content with the state of affairs, but Edmund's internal monologue was not. Still, sitting around aimlessly would contradict his purpose of pursuing the hodag ritual.

And if there was one thing that Edmund hated, it was inefficiency for no good reason.

With a thick tome on the properties of various transfigured elements in hand, Edmund exited the common room.

For once, his cloak was not on his shoulders, safely stowed away instead. There may have been extensive rules for curfew in Hogwarts, but there was far less stringency regarding how early the students could wake up.

The main gates leading to the grounds of Hogwarts would remain magically locked until 6:00 AM, and until then, he could wander alone without disturbance.

His feet subconsciously carried him to the upper floors until he found himself standing before a large window overlooking the Black Lake on the sixth floor. The spot was a personal favourite of Luna's. It was tucked into a corner, away from other rooms or tapestries. The entrance to the area was obscured by several dark velvet curtains, making it seem nonexistent to those who did not know the truth.

Luna had come across it while walking around the Black Lake, noting that the number of windows on the floor seemed to be one more from the outside than the inside.

The space had quickly become a refuge for her. On the nights when her housemates were particularly cruel to her, she would come here, hidden from all prying eyes. Looking out at the moon reflecting on the calm waters, she would fall asleep in a pile of blankets she had scrounged together over the years.

When she had first shown Edmund the spot, he had felt a rush of emotion, knowing she trusted him enough to keep her secrets. Luna may not have permitted him to help her with her bullies, but she could not deny him when it came to this.

Immediately, he began renovating the mini-room, making it more livable and homely. A comfy settee and cot had been stolen from the Room of Lost Things for comfort. Small tables and knickknacks had also gradually found their way to the area, and shelves had been installed as well. Together, the duo painted the walls, decorating them with images of magical creatures. On a large green hill, Luna had filled in a black-coloured cylindrical house with a stream at the base of it. Her home, the Rookery.

When the last of the paint had dried, Luna had leapt into his embrace, her eyes tearing up from being overwhelmed.

"This isn't just for me," she had said with a hiccup. "You can come here whenever you want, alright?"

Edmund had vowed he would, but this was the first time he was actually here alone. Bathed in the dim light of the moon's waning crescent, he had to admit the sight before him was ethereal.

However, sprawled along the lengthy upholstered seat, Edmund found his concentration drifting from his book's contents.

How could it not?

In the distance, he could hear the muffled sounds of crickets chirping and the branches of the trees in the Forbidden Forest swaying with the wind.

Edmund would be heading into the depths of those woods tonight to partake in his first piece of foreign ritual magic.

He and the speaker had discussed at length how the process would feel and how it would affect him. The difference between this set and the ritual of opening was subtle but made for a world of difference.

Ley lines could be considered massive underground pipes with a torrent of water flowing through them. Thus, water moved faster in the center than on the outer edges.

The world anchor essentially poked a small hole in the rim of the pipe through chants and magical offerings. This perforation would eventually heal, but magic would seep out and invigorate the participant in the time it took to do so.

The set the speaker had designed would instead siphon magic from the very core of the ley lines, filling the area with wilder and more untamed magic.

The only cause that made such a thing possible was the date.

It was Beltane.

The pagan festival fell midway between the spring equinox and the summer solstice. On the night of Beltane, a pulse of magic would erupt from the depths of the Earth, wrapping around the entirety of the planet's crust, temporarily making everywhere a magical hotspot.

For those attuned to magic, the yearly phenomenon was unmissable. Hence, the festival was popular for numerous reasons.

Many followed the old traditions and took the opportunity to congregate in areas of extremely high magical concentration. Flower crowns were donned, a massive bonfire was lit, and magic was allowed to flow. Energy would penetrate those present to the very soul, making them go into a drunk-like trance. Making merry with mead and hearty food, they would dance the night away around the fire, lost in their minds. It was said that couples drawn to one another as dancing partners during this time would remain together for life, their union approved by mother magic itself.

Others, particularly magical researchers, used the opportunity for study. It was commonly known that there were many magical youths born in March. An almost disproportionate amount. Such a thing could be a coincidence but was further complicated by most of these birthed children being muggle-born. Since March was nine months after Beltane, it was theorized that the wave of magic during Beltane might be responsible for infusing magic into the embryo during the early stages of conception. The hypothesis was not flawless, but it was one of the few leads that had been found into the mystery that was the existence of muggle-borns.

Specifically for Edmund, Beltane was also important to the centaurs. Their connection with mother magic was the strongest each year at this time. The level of the bond created was unbeatable, save for extraordinary occasions that happened once in a lifetime.

Because of this significance, his ritual would be, for once, very stooped in tradition. Edmund had been fitted for special garments and asked to memorize specific chants and etiquette in preparation for the day. He also knew the speaker would decorate him with special face paint before the ritual.

He voiced no complaint about these arrangements.

Edmund realized that this process was sacred to the speaker. He would not dishonour her customs because of his own ignorance.

He had faith in the centaur, almost as much as he had in himself.

Tonight, his fate would be in her hands.