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Returning to Sanity	By : AchillesTheGeek Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 31212 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 3
Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter books or films, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 93
- 94
- 95
94. Returning a Pure-blood Practice
AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is a work of fiction. I am sure I have taken considerable liberties with the Celtic calendar herein; I am neither a Pagan nor a Celt, nor do I have any intention of presenting anything other than what I hope is a good story. I apologize if my taking liberties offends anyone; I can only suggest that you write for us a story setting out your own understanding, thus clearing the record and giving the rest of us something to read at the same time.
Saturday 19 December
Harry was trying hard not to show it, but he was very excited to be going home to the family for Christmas (or, as Draco insisted on calling it, Yule). Really home. And really 'the family'. He'd never had them both together, not really. From the vantage point of the present, he could well see that, whatever Dumbledore had thought or said about blood wards, the Dursleys had never been family, nor their house truly his home. As for the Christmases spent at Hogwarts, well, they had been wonderful, to be sure; but, while the castle had felt like home, it was still not really his own family space. Until his marriage, he realised, the Burrow was the closest thing he had had to a home and family, and to be sure he still felt some sense of belonging there, especially now that he and Draco had their own room there.
But this year was different.
This year, he and Draco would be spending the Christmas break, from Sunday on, at Malfoy Manor.
He would be with his husband and his parents-in-law.
Undeniably, his family.
He couldn't wait.
He had suspected for some days that Narcissa Malfoy was up to something, and those suspicions had only grown during the last week when Draco had been vetting the Daily Prophet before Harry could read it. To be sure, the blond had tried to be subtle and hide his actions in grabbing the paper straight from the owl as the demands of a pregnant spouse; but Harry was not fooled. Not that he minded terribly; if his in-laws wanted to keep what they were doing a secret, he was sure that he could trust them that it was what Narcissa had called a 'good secret'.
In the end, it was Narcissa herself who confirmed his thoughts. She had written him an owl which had arrived on Thursday, explaining that she was intending to show him some of the pure-blood Celtic rituals around Yuletide, which would begin with a special ceremony on the twenty-first, the nominal day of the Solstice itself.
I'm sure you will understand, she had written, that I would like to keep the exact details a surprise; but I assure you that you will enjoy Monday's event immensely. There will be a role in it for you; not because of your being the Boy-Who-Lived or any such nonsense, but because of your connection to the Elder wand. I do hope you will attend, and take part, and bring the Elder wand with you.
I know you are due to stay here for Yuletide but, as we will need to prepare for the Ceremony of the Woods, as it is known, I have asked Molly Weasley if she could accommodate you on Saturday night and she was delighted to agree. Accordingly, she will meet the Hogwarts Express on Saturday and take both of you and Ginny home to the Burrow, and we will have to look forward to Flooing there for lunch on Sunday and bringing you back home.
All my love
Mother
Harry had sat quite still for a long time; so long, in fact, that Draco, sitting beside him, had asked what was wrong.
"Nothing's wrong," he replied, finding that he had to force the words out through a choked throat. "It's just … she signed herself as mother!"
It took Draco a moment to catch on, but as Harry's face broke into a wide smile, he realised that, truly, nothing was wrong.
The rest of Narcissa's letter had made it very clear that they were most welcome to stay at the Manor for the rest of the holiday, though she quite understood that they might wish to spend some time at the Lodge, and would probably wish to visit the Weasleys as well. Draco explained to Harry that what that meant was "Molly and I are both fighting to have you, and you might be allowed to have a day or two elsewhere, but you'd better be at the Manor for most of the time."
Harry laughed. While it would be nice to hide away at the Lodge, he felt rather special that the two women who he thought of as mothers were fighting over him. Draco, quite aware of Harry's feelings, for once made no comment about the arrangements and simply let his mother have free rein.
In this happy mood, the Malfoy-Potters boarded the Hogwarts Express to have that experience one more time.
ooOOoo
By the time they arrived at King's Cross Station, Draco was feeling rather wrung out. The trip had been notable for the vast number of people who seemed to find some reason or other to stop by their compartment. It seemed that everybody wanted to see the Destroyer of Voldemort, to wish him a Merry Christmas, to give him a gift, anything at all to interact with 'Their Hero'.
Oddly enough, Draco found an ally in Ginny Weasley. The feisty red-head had entered their compartment about an hour into the trip, pointing out that as they were going to leave the train together they might as well travel together too, and had started gently turning people away. Three hours later, the gentleness was gone; Ginny had already sent two Bat-Bogey hexes at some Hufflepuff third years who just didn't seem to have gotten the message. She was preparing to cast another one as the door opened, but put her wand down as she saw that it was Luna Lovegood.
"Hello Harry," the blond Ravenclaw said in her simple way, "may I join you?"
"Of course," Harry replied.
"Thank you," Luna said, coming in to the compartment. She sat down next to Ginny, pulled out a copy of the paper her father Xenophilias edited, the Quibbler, and began to read it. Upside down.
And because it was Luna, everyone smiled and went on with their own conversations.
ooOOoo
"Oh!" Luna exclaimed when they were about half an hour into the journey, "Daddy's printed a Celtic calendar!"
"A what?" Harry asked.
In answer, Luna simply handed him a piece of parchment that had obviously been an insert into the Quibbler. Harry frowned as he studied it closely. Two things struck him at once: firstly that it was unlike any calendar he had ever seen. In his experience, calendars were tables of numbers, one for each month, but this was arranged completely differently. From a central circle, thirteen tree-trunks radiated outwards, spreading out into leafy canopies that made a second, larger circle around the first.
The second thing he realised was that it was undeniably beautiful. The trees were drawn with exquisite precision, and the leaves, and veins on them, were clearly visible. The tree canopies were overlaid with two gold circles, in which each tree was labelled with a name and its species, from Beith the Birch at the top left all the way round to Ruis the Elder at the top right. Underneath these labels was the first indication that this was a calendar: dates were given. But they were not at all the dates he would have expected. Instead, Beithran from December 24 to January 21, and the other months had similar unusual numbers of days until Ruis ran from November 25 through to December 21. The remaining two days, it seemed, did not belong to any month.
"This is amazing, Luna," Harry said, with feeling. "Can you explain it to me?"
"I'd be delighted, Harry," the blonde said with a big smile, and proceeded to explain the ancient history of the British Isles. She told a story of how the Bards and Druids, the educated class of the Celts, contained both Muggles and Wizards; of how they all interacted together with respect, regardless of Magical or blood status, without rancour or bias; of how Amergin, the wizard Bard of the Milesians, wrote his poem, The Song of Amergin, explaining the cycle of Nature; of how the Wizards interpreted his poem, infusing it with meaning beyond its words and building an astrology and calendar based on trees; of how the different groupings and symbolisms weaved together to make a song, and a poem, and a calendar all at once; of how the year began with the birch, her silver freshness symbolizing the defeat of the old year, and ran through the cycle of trees on the parchment Harry had, through rowan, ash, and alder, through willow, hawthorn and Old Man oak, through holly, hazel and the vine, skipping through autumnal ivy and reed until the year ended, always ended, with unlucky elder, tricky to master.
And all the while she spoke, her listeners sat enraptured and amazed at the transformation that had come over the usually scatter-brained little Ravenclaw, and all of them learnt a new appreciation for the depths of learning that she hid behind an unpromising exterior. They hardly noticed time passing; all too soon, Kings Cross Station was announced, and they scrambled to get ready to get off at the platform.
ooOOoo
When they arrived at the station, Harry, Draco and Ginny were greeted, as promised, by Molly Weasley, and Flooed straight to the Burrow.
Harry emerged from the Floo with only a slight stumble.
"Watch out, Harry!" a familiar voice said, and he was grasped in strong arms and moved into the room before he knew what was going on. He turned to watch Draco coming through, chagrined that – of course – the blond did not stumble at all, nor show any signs of discomfort, despite being nearly three months pregnant. Having seen that all was well with his husband, he looked to confirm who was holding him.
"Charlie!" he said delightedly, then looked around. "It seems the gang's all here!"
Standing around in the Weasleys' front room were Arthur, Fleur, Charlie, George, Fred and Angelina, Percy and Audrey – who looked very much an item, now – Ron and Hermione, and, coming through the Floo, Molly, Ginny and Robin Banks. With sixteen people, the room was rather full and quickly became very noisy as everyone talked at once; but Harry wouldn't have it any other way. Even Draco, who was quickly ushered to a chair by a very solicitous Molly Weasley, could see, and share, the joy his husband had at being surrounded by these people who clearly loved him.
Loved them both, he realised, as Fred Weasley sat next to him and started talking about their latest creations and the potions they were basing them on. Draco found himself drawn in to a very technical conversation, suggesting ways in which they could improve their products, particularly with colour-fastness, something that was proving a problem with the very bright colours they were introducing into their range.
For his part, Harry looked around the room. He couldn't help feeling that somebody was missing. He did a quick head count through the Weasley family and came up with two names.
"Where are Bill and Neville?" he asked.
"Ah," Arthur said, "they are helping Narc—"
"They're busy elsewhere," Molly said over the top of him, kicking him in the shin.
Harry stifled a giggle. Alright, so whatever Narcissa was up to involved Bill and Neville. So, an expert on rituals and a herbological genius? No surprise, really, for something called 'the Ceremony of the Woods', he supposed. He decided he really didn't need to dig further, he'd find out when he needed to, so struck up a conversation with Fleur about her cousins.
But that wasn't quite the end of it. Harry may not have felt the need to dig; Draco was a different matter entirely.
"And does that mean that the rest of you are not involved in helping Mother?" he asked, faux-innocently.
Molly went very red.
"Actually," Charlie replied, "some of us are. Neville and Bill are just needed for consulting about the Ceremony, while the rest of us will be part of it. But you'll find out all about that on Monday."
There was an awkward pause, and then Ginny piped up with a question that never seemed to be far from Weasley minds.
"Is it dinnertime yet?"
ooOOoo
Sunday 20 December
Sunday dawned, crisp and clear. Harry woke with the sun; not much of a hardship, as it rose just after eight o'clock in the morning. He watched his husband, who lay dead to the world; it being a Sunday, Harry was sure he wouldn't stir for a couple of hours, so got up and dressed and went in search of breakfast.
In the event, it was nearly eleven before Draco appeared.
"Morning, sleepy-head!" George greeted him with a grin.
"Fred!" his mother scolded, then looked again, "I mean, George, or whichever :- Draco's pregnant, he needs his rest. And a good feed, I should think."
"Course he does," Fred said, grinning to learn that they could still confuse their mother; it was a good thing Harry had healed George's ear all those months ago.
"And we'll keep him company –" George continued.
"—so he feels part of the family," Fred finished. "Bacon and eggs? Don't mind if we do!"
And Molly could hardly be offended by this; not with Draco nearly doubled up in laughter at the antics of her terrible twins.
ooOOoo
Draco was really only just in time. He'd managed to finish breakfast and be presentable when Narcissa and Lucius arrived at midday. Lunch was at half-past twelve, and the Malfoys found themselves seated at a table with more people than they had seen at one time for a very long time. Lucius commented on the contrast to their usual meals, spent dining with just the two of them; Arthur agreed, as he and Molly had much the same thing.
The two mothers were clearly in their element; Molly bustled around busily, handing out more food, encouraging everyone to eat – not that the Weasleys needed encouragement; even the twins, who had had three full breakfasts, had no trouble polishing off everything they were offered. Draco did not fare so well; he was not ready for a big meal after such a recent breakfast, which unfortunately made Narcissa fuss over him.
"So, Narcissa," Harry said, desperate to stop her fretting over Draco's apparent lack of appetite, "I was given a Celtic calendar on the train and I wondered if it had anything to do with tomorrow's event?"
Narcissa's eyes opened wide. "Show me," she asked, and Harry excused himself and went to fetch the parchment.
"That boy!" Lucius said with fond exasperation. "Will he never learn that he can summon things?"
"Well, he did have a childhood ignorant of magic," Arthur said, but fortunately Harry appeared again before that conversation could continue.
"Here you are," Harry said, passing the parchment to Narcissa, who surveyed it closely.
"Hmm," she said eventually. "Where did you get this from?"
"Luna said it was an insert in the Quibbler," Harry replied.
"Indeed," Lucius said, his tone making it clear that he did not have a high opinion of that particular publication.
"That's quite enough of that," Narcissa said acidly, passing him the parchment. "As you can see, it is both very well designed and extremely accurate."
"Well now," Molly said, rather too obviously rushing in to head off an argument, "it's lovely having you here but I do believe you had things to do this afternoon?"
"Yes, thank you for reminding me," Narcissa said. "Boys, are you ready to go?"
ooOOoo
After saying their farewells, the four Apparated away from the Burrow. But Narcissa had a little surprise up her sleeve. They arrived, not inside the Manor grounds, but inside a carriage which immediately started off the moment they were seated comfortably.
"What's this about, mum?" Harry asked, and Narcissa beamed at the title.
"I wanted to show you the magic of arriving at the Manor in Winter," she replied softly.
And as they rounded a corner and got a view of the Manor, Harry had to agree it was magical – the snow was pure white, and the stone of the manor had been cleaned up and glistened in the weak afternoon sunlight. It might have looked stark against the snow, except for the huge green, red and silver banners that had been placed on it. It sure beat the hell out of the crepe and tinsel that the Dursleys had decorated Privet Drive with. The effect quite took his breath away.
"Yeah," Draco said, snuggling up to his speechless husband, "it is pretty amazing, isn't it."
ooOOoo
Lucius was fretting. The dining table was set for four, but there was no sign of the boys.
When they had arrived just after lunch, Narcissa had told Harry and Draco that they must do exactly as they pleased while they were there. Draco had taken her at her word, and the two of them had gone to lie down during the afternoon. That was quite acceptable, Lucius supposed; but he was rather put out when they had not appeared at all during the early evening for the customary six o'clock cocktail.
Which he supposed he could let slide; but now, here it was, gone seven o'clock in the evening, and there was still no sign of them.
"Surely they have to eat?" he demanded, a touch querulously.
Narcissa smiled to herself. Lucius would probably never admit it, but he was genuinely fond of the two boys and was clearly missing them.
"I'm sure Dippy will look after them," she informed him.
Lucius looked shocked. True, the last few months had been tumultuous, and many of their normal traditions had been turned upside down, but the implication here was simply staggering. It was one thing to coddle the boys when they were sick, as Harry had been; but to allow them to not turn up at mealtimes otherwise, that Narcissa Malfoy, daughter of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, would put up with such a breach of decorum, was unthinkable.
"What?" he asked. "You're letting them lounge in bed? And eat meals somewhere other than the table?"
Narcissa sighed.
"Do remember, dear, that our son is pregnant. He needs a lot of rest. And I told them to do as they pleased; you can't exactly complain that they take us at our word. However, I suppose there is one thing we can do. Dippy!" she called.
The house elf popped in, and Narcissa gave her a message for the Malfoy-Potters, who readily agreed to her request.
A few minutes later, the four of them were having dinner, not in the formal setting of the Malfoy dining room, but in what was now definitely the boys' room, rather than just Draco's; and Lucius found, much to his surprise, that sitting with his dinner on his lap was really rather more pleasant than he had anticipated and quite a welcome contrast to the cold, draughty dining-room, particularly in the company of three people who loved him, and whom he loved in return. Perhaps it was time to revise yet another tradition…
ooOOoo
Monday 21 December
Harry was rather surprised when he wandered through the Manor early on Monday morning. He had expected a room to be shut off, or perhaps some area outside covered and set aside; but there seemed to be nothing to indicate where a Ceremony was being performed today. In fact the only thing that seemed unusual was that Narcissa was not sitting at the table when the Malfoy-Potters made it down to breakfast.
"Morning, boys," Lucius said as they sat down. "Your mother sends her apologies, but she has things to oversee."
Draco smirked. "Nothing happens if she doesn't watch it?" he asked in fun.
Lucius looked at him sternly, but the sides of his mouth were curved ever so slightly, and it was clear that he appreciated the humour.
"Something like that," he allowed.
"So where is she doing this overseeing?" Harry asked.
"Ah," Lucius replied. "Harry, I think your friend Miss Lovegood has been exceptionally perceptive in giving you the calendar. Narcissa may have told you, but today's ceremony is called the Ceremony of the Woods; it celebrates both the solstice and the end of the Celtic year. By tradition, it is done on common land, and open to all who wish to come and participate; there is a field about a mile away that we have commandeered for the purpose."
"Okay," Harry said, pondering this. "And the Woods in question are the thirteen types of wood mentioned in the calendar?"
Lucius gave a slight smile. "Exactly so."
They sat in silence for half a minute or so, and then Harry blurted out, "so, are you going to tell us any more?"
Lucius pondered the matter for a few moments, then replied, "do you know, I don't think I will. Be ready to leave at quarter to noon." And with that, he picked up the Daily Prophet, and they got no more out of him.
ooOOoo
It was just before midday when Lucius, Draco and Harry Apparated into the field where the ceremony was to be held. An astonishing sight greeted them. In the middle of the field was a clearing, in which had been set what looked like the basic scaffolding for a huge bonfire, with poles set together and brushwood weaved between them. Surrounding and over this basic structure was another one, with poles lashed together and odd spars were poking out. Harry couldn't quite see what it was for; it looked like it was unfinished, as though someone should be adding other poles, but no-one seemed to be paying it any attention.
In a circle around this central bonfire, perhaps twenty feet away from it, was a ring of little hexagonal tents. They were each a different colour, and the colours seemed to be graded around the circle, but not according to any pattern Harry was aware of: the colours went from white, through cream, greens, golds, reds and browns before sliding back through greys into white again. Most of them were perhaps a yard square in size, though each well over six feet tall. One of them however, rather stood out: it was at least three times the width and breadth of the others, and a good nine feet tall.
The whole scene reminded Harry very strongly of some of the television programmes that Dudley used to watch which featured mediaeval jousting; not, of course, that Harry had been allowed to watch them too, but just occasionally he had managed to sneak out of the cupboard and steal a few precious minutes of doing something normal. The only thing missing, he thought, was little pennants at the top flying to indicate the knight that each tent belonged to. At least, he thought that until a light breeze picked up and he noticed that there were indeed pennants, the same colour as the tent, each with a tree on it.
Very strange. Why the trees? Why the different-sized tents? He couldn't quite work it out, and looked around to see if he could find any clues to help make sense of what was actually happening. As he looked at the little tents, he could see that by some of them there were trees in pots, with holes dug clearly to plant them in. Here and there were also a couple of limbs cut and stacked; what for, he could not begin to guess. There were people wandering around, adjusting the trees, digging the holes and generally being busy doing the thousand and one things that attend an occasion like this. Harry could see Narcissa and Neville working away in what looked like a clump of vines, and next to them two men working with holly bushes. One of these two Harry was sure he'd never seen before; but the other turned around and he grinned as he recognised him.
"Draco!" he called. "It's Theo Nott!"
"So it is!" Draco said, waving at his friend. "But he seems busy enough. Come and have lunch!"
Harry chuckled. He supposed his pregnant husband could be excused for preferring food over work. Draco grasped his arm, and Harry's attention was drawn to a huge, long marquee that had been set up along the northern edge of the field. The three men entered the marquee to find that it was obviously magical; from outside it was large, but inside it was colossal. Everywhere he looked there was bustle and activity. Everywhere there was a feast for the senses. There were house-elves busy roasting all sorts of meat on spits: he saw sheep, pigs and various birds. There were tables groaning with platters of bread and cheese, and tureens of soup, and plates piled high with baked potatoes, turnips, parsnips, Brussels sprouts and other vegetables Harry wasn't quite sure he could name. There were barrels of ale, casks of mead, pots of mulled wine and bottles of butterbeer. And dotted around the space were tables and chairs filled with people feasting. It was hot and noisy and full of the peculiar fun of people warming themselves in good company on a cold Winter's day.
Harry broke into a grin as he recognised many of the people there: all of their friends had obviously been invited. Or perhaps it was a general come-if-you-want sort of invitation; Lucius had said it was open to anyone who wanted to come, after all.
"'Arry!" a loud voice announced, and he turned to see Hagrid racing over to them. "And Draco! Glad yers could make it!"
Harry's heart skipped a beat at the ease with which Hagrid simply swept Draco up into his circle. Hagrid was a simple soul; but his openness had done much to ease the tensions that Harry knew were still there; much less than before, to be sure, but there was still prejudice and distrust from both 'pure-bloods' and 'blood-traitors'.
As he was thinking this, Hagrid leaned down to Draco and said, in what was no doubt supposed to be a conspiratorial whisper, "I got summat for you; but your mother's been on at us about eatin' healthy so yer might wanna hide it."
With this, the half-giant handed over an enormous basket. How Draco was supposed to hide it mystified Harry. Draco looked inside and gave a huge grin as he pulled out a rock cake.
"Thank you!" he said. "I have missed them!"
"Hagrid!" Harry said, waking up to himself. "It's good to see you. Er – do you know what to expect about this ceremony?"
But before Hagrid could answer, a stern voice rang out.
"We can talk about that later. Lunch first. Now just what are you supposed to be hiding – put that basket down, young man!"
There was a sudden, and unnerving, silence as every head turned to see that Narcissa had entered the marquee and obviously heard what Hagrid had whispered. "Please, Harry, sit down. The pair of you need to eat a good lunch before you even think of treats such as those!"
"Yes, mum!" Harry squeaked, and rushed to take a seat. There was a general laugh as everyone enjoyed the moment. It was entirely good-humoured, and even Narcissa grinned at Harry's antics. She turned to Hagrid.
"And, Professor Hagrid, I would like to thank you for accepting my son as readily as I hear that you have, even if you have been supplying him with sweet treats he hardly needs," she told him.
"It's just Hagrid, ma'am; and any friend of Harry's is a friend of mine. As for the cakes, well, most people run a mile rather than eat one, so I guess maybe I went overboard at being appreciated…"
In reply, much to Hagrid's confusion, Narcissa broke into a laugh.
"To be honest, I'm delighted. My son has always had a sweet tooth and, while as his mother I do have to make sure he eats properly" - she said this while glaring at Draco, who returned her gaze coolly, knowing it was mostly for show – "I'm very grateful for your kindness."
"Oh," Hagrid said, blushing in embarrassment. This seemed to be the signal for everyone to get busy eating, drinking, and chatting again. Everyone greeted the Malfoy-Potters warmly as house-elves popped to them, placing huge plates of food in front of them.
"Thank you Dippy," Harry said, then turned as he felt a hand on his arm. He was both surprised and delighted to see his cousin standing there.
"Dudley!" he exclaimed. "Wonderful! Sit down and tell me what you've been up to!"
"Are you sure?" Dudley replied nervously, and Harry realised immediately that he felt like he didn't really belong.
"'Course!" the raven-haired youth replied. "We Potters have to stick together!"
ooOOoo
In a corner of the marquee was a small coterie of pure-blooded witches and wizards who did not, at all, share the general enthusiasm and happiness. Far from it; Messalina and Godfrey Nott were quite livid to see not only that the pure-blooded Draco was bonded to the upstart half-blood Harry Potter, but he was sitting at a table with a Muggle boy as well! And, as such people will, they had drawn a little faction of like-minded individuals around them. They all agreed that no good could come of this fraternization and were determined to stop it.
One might think they would have been ashamed to plot the downfall of this new accord while eating and drinking at the Malfoy's expense; but in fact they rather relished it. Godfrey could hardly stop the small smirk that kept threatening to break out at the thought that the people he thought of as enemies were hosting their little reconnaissance mission.
He just hoped that his cousin wasn't here. While blood should be thicker than water, he had not forgotten that Theodore Nott and Draco Malfoy were at Hogwarts together; who knew what poisonous thoughts of equality might have found their way into Theo's innocent mind? He would have to check that out.
'We pure-bloods have to stick together,' he thought.
ooOOoo
It was about one o'clock when Molly and Narcissa called for quiet.
"The participants need to come and get ready now; the rest of you, please feel free to stay in the warmth here," she said to the assembled crowd. "To finish by sunset, the ceremony will begin at twenty minutes to two o'clock."
So saying, the two mothers signaled to Harry and Draco to come with them and left the marquee, followed by a group of people who clearly had been briefed beforehand. They all went out of the marquee into a separate tent that had now been erected to one side. Harry was pleasantly surprised to find that he knew, and was friends with, all of the participants; that is, if he could really class Hagrid and Kingsley, the only older adults of the group, as 'friends'. And in the tent were a few more people, obviously the ones who had been helping Narcissa: Theodore Nott was there, standing next to a man Harry didn't know but who did bear some resemblance to him. Harry wondered if perhaps Theo had an older brother, or uncle.
"Now," Narcissa began, once they were all present, "we need to make sure you all are comfortable with your positions. Most of you already know the order; Draco, you're between Ron and Hagrid, and Harry, you're at the end, after Kingsley."
Once they were in a line, Narcissa explained exactly how things were going to work. Each of them, it seemed, had been chosen to carry a particular type of wood; they would be responsible for adding a branch of the relevant tree to the bonfire. When they had all done so, the fire would be lit.
Harry was delighted to learn that, while he had to say something, it really wasn't important for him to be word-perfect; while it was an old, established ceremony, it wasn't a ritual to be performed exactly, but more something that should flow from the heart. He had just one other question.
"Why have we been chosen for these particular woods?"
"Ah!" Molly replied. "The idea is that each participant should have some strong connection with their wood. For most of you, it's the same wood as your wand; we gave you elder, of course, dear, because of the Elder wand. As it happens, both Blaise and Angelique have an ivy wand, so we chose to use Blaise to stand in for you and your holly wand, holly and ivy being strongly compatible."
"I see," Harry mused. "And you all just remember people's wand wood, then?"
Narcissa laughed. "Well, no," she confessed. "We did a lot of asking around. Yours, of course, is rather famous. But Bill and Molly were most helpful in tracking woods down. The hardest was the reed wand; fortunately, Kingsley's first wand was reed.
"Any more questions?" Molly asked. There were none. "Good! Everyone go to your little tent, then; we'll begin in about twenty minutes."
"Before we do," Robin said, "I think there's a little something needed."
"Yes?" Narcissa replied, an eyebrow arched.
"She's here," Robin said in a low voice, as he wandered over to the man standing next to Theo, and waved his wand in an intricate pattern. The man changed appearance as one of Robin's complex glamours settled over him. The change was not enormous, certainly someone who had glanced at him before would take him for the same man, but the similarities to Theo were much less marked.
ooOOoo
"Welcome all!" Lucius called out in a loud voice as the bonfire was lit. "Welcome to the Ceremony of the Woods! Here we stand at the end of our year. As the year dies, we remember that it brought us life, and a new year begins with new life even as the old passes away. We remember the year that has passed, both good things and bad, for only in accepting all that we have been given can we be whole. We remember that we are connected to this sphere, even though we are passing through; so that its connection changes us and remains with us. We remember that we have each other, families, friends, acquaintances; we belong to one another.
"We surrender all to the fire of transformation, so that the bad can be carried away and become forgotten, and the good remain and become a blessing in our lives.
"Now, as is our custom, there is a separate pavilion for each month, with the wood for the month piled there. Each wood will be brought out in turn and placed on the fire. You will then be given space to remember for yourself the good and the bad of that month; you may do so silently, or speak out, or, if you are so moved, choose a branch from the pile and place it on yourself.
"Each of you is free to do what you feel is required."
'Poppycock,' Godfrey Nott thought. 'Still, at least the words are right according to the old sources. But how can he stand there and go through with this when there are Muggles present? Next we'll be seeing creatures come.'
Beside him, Messalina Nott was busy with similar, and equally poisonous, thoughts of her own. '"Belonging" indeed. It's all very well if the ceremony was only pure-bloods like it's supposed to be! And that man who lit the fire, could that be Theo? Looked like it. I must ask Godfrey.'
In the midst of these thoughts, Neville emerged from the first pavilion. He was wearing a hooded mantle that, like his pavilion, was coloured white with the faintest hint of spring green, and he was holding a very large birch bough.
"Beith the Birch," he intoned. "The first of the trees, the first to proceed, the stag of seven tines,"
"Beith the Birch," came a congregational response from the pure-bloods present as Neville laid his bough against the scaffolding over the bonfire and took two steps back to stand in his place, where he would remain until the conclusion of the ceremony. Harry, standing in the tent to the right of Neville's, had not been expecting the response; it rather sent a shiver up his spine. In the few minutes he had spent alone in his little tent before the ceremony started, he had worried the whole thing would be a bit theatrical. That people wouldn't join in and it would all seem false.
Now, though, it had become clear that this was not going to be a problem. There was a simple authenticity to the whole thing that touched him at a deep level. When you thought about it, it was a very simple ceremony: just a fire, and tree branches being added to it, and people saying things as they felt moved. He had not expected that it would have the power that it clearly did.
A couple of people mentioned things that had happened in January, and one brave soul even walked over and took a birch branch and added it to the fire as she spoke of escaping the Snatchers, something that rather shocked Harry into remembrance that yes, they were talking about those times.
The ceremony proceeded apace, the participants emerging at ten minute intervals. Luna came out next, her robe greener and less white, placing a bough of Rowan.
"Luis the Rowan," she announced in a steady voice far-removed from her usual dreamy self. "The stag is chased by a flood on the plain."
"Luis the Rowan," came the reply.
Charlie brought Ash, and Robin brought Alder. Harry rather choked up as he remembered that in late March, Alder's month, they had been caught and imprisoned at Malfoy Manor. And that Dobby had died. He found himself shedding a tear; and then there must have been some special magic in the ceremony after all, for he felt the awful feeling of the loss of his house-elf friend lift off him. It seemed like a tiny bubble of grief went out of him, and flew into the fire and was transformed. He still missed Dobby; it still hurt; but it no longer ached.
He remembered also Remus coming to Shell Cottage to announce the birth of Teddy. And that thought was like a bubble of joy, floating away and then again flying into the fire; but this one was returned, and filled his heart with a great peace. It was as if Remus had come and put his hand on him and said, "you're doing so well", and he felt greatly encouraged.
Then came the first change of protocol. Ron came out of his pavilion in a beautiful greeny-yellow robe, and laid his Willow bough.
"Saille the Willow," he said. "The hawk on the cliff remembers the downfall of Voldemort."
The response was polarized. Many of those present responded with great gusto, "Saille the Willow!". But it was obvious to Harry that some, pure-blooded no doubt, did not approve of a participant deviating from the wording.
Screw them, he thought. Ron was just as entitled as anyone else to have his say. He found himself being caught up in the emotion of the sentiment, and almost went to add his own Willow branch; but a participant coming out early to add a branch would probably cause conniptions for the diehard pure-bloods, he decided. Not that he cared particularly for such people, but Narcissa probably would, so he stayed where he was out of respect for her.
Draco laid his Hawthorn bough without any more drama. At least, no-one seemed to notice any. But Harry knew better: he could see there was a great tension in his husband. When he returned to his pavilion, Draco found to his surprise that the terrible feelings of loss he had from the trials seemed to have stayed at the fire. He turned just in time to see a ghostly golden bubble float into the flames and on up. And as it went, he knew that the pain then only made the joy with Harry now all the sweeter.
Draco smiled.
Hagrid, with oak, did not escape drama. Indeed, there was a palpable tension as he emerged from his very large pavilion, and Harry realised at once why one tent had to be so much larger than the rest. Hagrid looked around uneasily, but laid his bough and felt a sudden rush of acceptance as the years of being treated as an outcast seemed to flow off him.
But there were those who still did not accept him.
A half-giant! Godfrey Nott thought. This is too much! We have half-bloods and Muggles, and even squibs, I'll be bound, but creatures! That's too far!
He turned to Messalina.
"We're leaving," he said.
She concurred, as did a group of pure-bloods, evidently, for a small knot of people suddenly vanished, quite noticeably, as they all left at once. But it didn't really matter; the ceremony was still very well attended. Blaise made his way out without missing a beat and laid Holly, with Ginny's Hazel, Hermione's Vine and Angelique's Ivy completing the red and brown coloured robes.
Kingsley emerged in grey robes, holding a bundle of Reeds.
"Ngetal the Reed!" he cried out aloud, "The noise of the sea!"
Harry smirked at the booming and intimidating voice the Minister could use when he wanted to. And finally, as the sun was now on the horizon, it was his turn.
"Ruis the Elder!" he called out, and found words coming to him unexpectedly. "The wave of the sea washes away, the fire burns, and all is cleansed and changed. New life in wholeness connects we who belong."
"Ruis the Elder," came the solemn response as Harry placed the last bough.
It was probably a good thing that so many of the po-faced purebloods had left earlier, given what happened next. For, as the structure took the weight of the Elder bough, it sagged and collapsed onto the fire. But instead of collapsing inwards on top of the fire, it seemed to twist around so that the boughs made a sort of teepee. To cries of surprise and delight, bright sparks came up in many different colours. It took a moment for everyone to realise that the colours they saw were the colours of the robes and pavilions.
And then the whole thing really took off.
Really, Draco thought later as he joined Harry and stood leaning into his side, they should have thought that the twins would have to get involved somehow. It was just impossible to leave them out of things. And his mother hadn't, not at all; for the coloured sparks coming out of the fire suddenly became fireworks booming into the night, and the boughs were reflected in the image of a grove of trees that the fireworks made.
The display was stunning. Even though the sky wasn't fully dark, it still made for a magnificent conclusion to a truly memorable ceremony, he thought. An opinion that seemed to be generally shared, if the loud 'oohs' and 'aahs' where anything to go by.
"Remind me to thank your mother for this tomorrow," Harry said in an awed whisper to his husband, as they watched the display together, their friends and family all around them.
"Of course," Draco told him earnestly. "Now though, my fingers and toes are getting cold and the warmth of some hot chocolate sounds preferable to a warming charm."
Harry chuckled softly at that, as they headed back to the marquee, thinking he might just treat himself to another goblet of mulled wine.
In fact, there would be no need for the reminder. Though they didn't know it, Narcissa had been standing close by them, and heard everything. She smiled. Her two boys were so sweet together and her heart swelled with love for them. She thought back on her own year. It had been scarier than a ride in a goblin cart: the horrors of the Dark Lord in the ascendancy; the terror she had felt for Draco during the war; the despair as she sat beside Lucius and Draco in the Great Hall, both of them having lost their magic, which she well knew would soon cost their lives; the joy of Harry's victory over the Dark Lord; the astonishment of his breaking of the magic-binding curse on her husband and son; the lows and highs of the trials; and since then of course they had had so much: Harry's healing, and the various attacks, had been horrid, of course; but nothing compared to Draco and Harry getting together, and married, and pregnant.
And as all these thoughts and memories flooded through her, the Ceremony continued to do its magic and pull them into the fire, into the sparks, taking the bad and returning strength instead, taking the sweet and returning purified joy. She stood, now, at the end of the year, at the moment when they would take a breath and head into a new year, exhilarated in the knowledge that the ancient pure-blood rite had done its work, and given them a chance to go into a New Year with hope that the bitterness of the past could be laid aside and the sweetness treasured.
As she made her way back to the marquee, many people came up to thank her for a wonderful afternoon and evening, and lots of them wanted to share special stories of how they too had felt a release because it. She smiled and nodded and played the gracious pure-blood hostess; internally, though her breeding would not let it show, she was ecstatic. This response, this unity of a group of such disparate Magicals and Muggles gave her great hope. Of course, she knew perfectly well that there were plenty who would not see it that way. She had not missed the pure-bloods who had left during the ceremony; she was well aware that Godfrey and Messalina Nott were at the centre of that group. But in the end, that was their loss. And these people, their smiles and freedom, they were her gain.
She went to bed that night proud, happy, and more hopeful for the New Year than she had been for many a year.

Notes:

Grateful thanks as always to the wonderful Bicky Monster for helpful suggestions.
Other locations: See my profile for details about facebook and FF.net. The story is also available on AO3 should anyone prefer that site.
Thanks: To all who are following! It gives me a lovely warm feeling that you're interested. And double thanks and hot chocolate and cakes for those who commented on chapter 93.
Please review and let me know what you thought of the Ceremony of the Woods. Did it live up to your expectations?
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