a/n1: Hey, I'm still alive! so many of you asked to read the ritual and I wanted to deliver the best possible version of that. But with uni and work it got quite hard to find time to write. Now I finally finished it and I'm really happy with the result. I listened to Heilung while writing this, especially the songs Norupo, Alfadhirhaiti, Krigsgaldr and Hamrer Hippyer. reynardinepttr is still my incredible beta and I hope you enjoy this chapter!

21st June 23:55

As Hermione stepped between the stones of the henge and into the circle she felt more than heard a chant start in her bones, pulsing in rhythm with her heart and lighting up the magic in her veins. Her feet were itching to start dancing and for the first time in her life Hermione fiercely wanted to sing, to join the monotonous choir. Follow the unheard words in her magic and move as they commanded.

She followed the insistent tugging of her magic towards the southern part of the circle, away from Draco who was walking to the eastern part.

When Hermione came to a halt she finally surfaced from the overwhelming magic around her enough to take in her surroundings. Like Stonehenge, this henge was made from megaliths more than a man's height. But where those of Stonehenge had been rough-hewn, these stones were decorated with elaborate designs of animals, humans and plants alike. They nearly seemed alive in the flickering light of the fires. Some seemed to tell stories, while others simply showed abstract patterns.

Hermione guessed that the henge was actually as big if not bigger than the Quidditch pitch had been and could easily hold about a thousand people with space left over.

As she watched, more people joined her in the southern end of the henge, all coming over as if lead by an external power and Hermione started to wonder whether the henge was responsible. Maybe whoever would lead the ritual had cast a spell to sort them all in even groups. Though Hermione could not yet discern any pattern. All ages and houses seemed to be mixed together, and it couldn't be blood status either since Lady Abbot had just come to stand next to Hermione with a dazed smile on her face.

Hermione frowned, taking a closer look at the groups. What was their common denominator? She saw Theo standing next to Draco in the East, both their faces calm and collected. Lucius stood next to them, but Narcissa and Andromeda were sorted in the northern group. Hermione smiled when she saw Hagrid, Harry and Ron standing together in the western part of the circle.

While Hermione had taken in her surroundings and had puzzled about the groups Padma Patil, Kingsley, Fleur and Blaise Zabini had joined her at the southern group. Surprised, Hermione looked over the henge again, trying to spot Parvati. She found her in the western group, standing with Lavender who she only recognised thanks to her signature pink ribbon in her hair. Lavender's face was so badly scarred that Hermione looked away quickly. She was reminded once again that others had been worse off than her.

Finally the movement between the groups came to a halt. Professors McGonagall, Sinistra, Babbling and Firenze stepped forward onto the square platform in the middle of the henge. They each faced a group.

Professor Babbling began to speak. "Wilcuma! Tonight we shall lay the groundwork for re-erecting the wards of Hogwarts! The oldest of those wards require us to call upon gods long forgotten, the worship long outlawed. Their power has waned during the last millennium and it will take many voices to wake them from their sleep. Let us start this ritual with a blot to the gods the Founders once called upon."

A huge cauldron appeared in the middle of the platform and all four teachers turned at the same time, taking up what looked like yew branches and put their tips into the cauldron. They turned as one back again and started to speak with magically amplified voices.

"I dedicate to you, Odin, this mead for your knowledge."

Everyone answered as one as droplets of the mead sprayed over the gathered wizards and witches, "To Odin!"

Hermione felt a droplet hit her forehead, making her gasp. As she breathed in she could have sworn that she tasted winter in the air and heard the throaty call of two ravens. Hermione closed her eyes and tried to feel, like she hadn't since her awful Divination lessons with Trelawney. Unbidden her thoughts wandered to the Battle of Hogwarts and those hours when the fighting had been at its peak. But something was different in her memory. Time seemed to be fluid and stagnant at once, everything happening in the same blink of an eye. In the Great Hall where she had fought Bellatrix with Luna and Ginny, Hermione suddenly saw an old man walking amongst the fighters. He wore a dark cloak with a hood covering his hair, but from what Hermione could see - remember - he had only one eye. As she watched him walk to Harry and lightly tap on his back, two ravens settled on each of the old man's shoulders. When the old man turned away from Harry, who was now charging at the Death Eaters with renewed energy, he caught Hermione's wondering gaze and winked.

As Hermione opened her eyes she remembered a whispered 'Knowledge is Power', but she could not say whether it had been said during the battle or during her vision.

Hermione swallowed. It couldn't be. She didn't have visions. Trelawney had said so in her third year, and Hermione still firmly believed that Divination, as that witch taught it, was nonsense.

But she did not have time to dwell on that as the teachers had turned again their backs on the cauldron and spoke in unison: "I dedicate to you, Toutatis, this mead for your courage!"

"To Toutatis!" Hermione answered, even as she wondered from which belief system he stemmed, because she was quite certain that she hadn't heard of him so far.

This time as the drop of mead fell on her forehead Hermione heard the roaring cheer of the Gryffindors during a Quidditch match. She felt herself swept up in the unity of her house, all cheering for their team, for their housemates, for their win of the Quidditch trophy. Hermione joined in the chant that had arisen and smiled at the sense of connection she hadn't experienced anywhere else. As she was looking around Hermione noticed a young man with a wild red beard, who seemed to be leading the chant and was decked in Gryffindor colours from head to toe. She wondered for a second whether there could be such a thing as a god of Gryffindor, but immediately scoffed her own thought.

Hermione opened her eyes to find her teachers already posed to give the next blessing.

"I dedicate to you, Rhiannon, this mead for your generosity!"

"To Rhiannon!" The gathered wizards and witches replied and this time Hermione was prepared for the droplet of mead on her forehead and followed the magic readily.

It carried her to a bitter sweet memory of the summer before her fourth year. Hermione had visited her father's parents on their farm near Cardiff. They had insisted she try riding the beautiful white mare they had just bought and Hermione had with some reluctance, remembering her times on a broom and somewhat cowed by the sheer size of the horse. But the mare had carried her faithfully, down to the sea and along the cliffs to the lighthouse. As Hermione looked to the side now, caught up in the memory, she saw a regal, brunette woman riding next to her with a calm smile on her face. When the woman caught her gaze she grinned and with a command in a foreign language, sped up and out of sight.

Hermione opened her eyes with a sad smile, remembering that it had been her grandmother riding next to her that summer. During the next school year her Nan had died of cancer and Hermione had only learned of her death and the funeral when she wrote home after the first task.

The teachers had raised the branches once again and Hermione wondered how many dedications they planned to make.

"I dedicate to you, Ogma, this mead for your eloquence!"

"To Ogma!"

Hermione frowned. Wisdom, courage, generosity and eloquence - were the four gods chosen for their connections to the founders? She felt the droplet hit her forehead again and this time it seemed the magic pulled her along on its own volition. She heard parts of speeches, some from Dumbledore, some from Harry. Others which she had heard on the telly. But the one the magic let her stop at was when Neville had spoken up and reignited their courage to stand against Voldemort. Hermione looked around, curious as to where she would find the god this time. She saw him standing right behind Neville as he stepped forward, with a hand on his shoulder and an angry gleam in his eyes, clearly directed at the Death Eaters. He was an older man with a full beard and curiously carried a club with him. He nodded at Hermione when he noticed her and then leaned forward to whisper into Neville's ear. As Neville spoke up Hermione saw shimmering, nearly translucent chains snake from his mouth and float to the ears of the people behind, connecting them. Curiously a few of the chains also snaked towards the Death Eaters, in particular the younger ones and the Malfoys.

Hermione extracted herself from the memory/vision and back into reality with some difficulty. But she had understood. The right words could even reach your enemies.

This time when the teachers spoke up they did not raise the branches. "We ask you to protect these lands."

Hermione hurried to repeat the sentence along with everyone else. "We ask you to protect these lands."

"From harm and unwanted detection."

"We ask you to help us cleanse these lands."

"From the death and sorrow and darkness polluting them."

The wizards and witches who had come to this celebration echoed every sentence as it was spoken by the teachers. Hermione felt strength course through her veins, more with every word that left her lips and she gasped when, as she finished the last word, a strong wind started whipping about. She felt a chill down to her magical core and Hermione could have sworn that she heard a melodic poem, battle cries, the neighing of a horse and a rousing speech without understanding the words.

Hermione looked about and saw the wonderment on every face around her. She watched as a silvery mist, much like the Patronus Charm, rose from the people within the stone circle and gathered over the platform in the middle where it started to merge together. The mist transformed into a cyclone of silver swirls, slowly spreading out at the top.

Suddenly there was a humming coming from everywhere and soon Hermione realised that she had joined in, not even recognising the tune.

The magic, because what else could it be, seemed to react to the humming and slowly spread out until it formed a dome over the grounds and the castle.

The humming became quieter and finally subsided. The dome had settled over Hogwarts and Hermione smiled, glad to see the wards protecting her second home once again.

For a few minutes the congregation was quiet, breathing in the security and the positivity the wards radiated.

Then Professor Firenze stepped forward. "We now want to invite everyone to speak up at the sumbel! Tell us heroic, or comedic, or maybe melancholic stories from Hogwarts. Toast to your family, your friends, your professors. Let's regale the gods with our words!"

People were slow to move and the first to actually dare to step up was Theo, his back ramrod straight and his eyes fixed on the cauldron in the middle of the platform. As he approached the cauldron, a drinking horn appeared in his right hand and he scooped some mead.

Then he turned to the group of people he had just left. "To Odin! For the last two years I was the Norse priest of Hogwarts, conducting the rituals as my ancestors and the previous priests did since they took over from Rowena Ravenclaw. But unlike my predecessors I want to finally open the ritual for every house. We celebrate the solstices and the equinoxes to honour the gods and receive their protection for the season. If you're interested to join us during the autumn equinox you can approach me any time after the start of the new school year. Everyone is welcome." With that Theo raised his horn in a toast and downed its contents to cheers from the gathered witches and wizards.

Others followed him more readily. Andromeda drank to family found again. Dennis Creevey stepped up to talk about his brother and offered to go through the photographs Colin had taken over the years to find pictures of the fallen and gift them to family and friends. Hermione saw people nodding at him when he passed them on his way back to his place, but nobody dared to speak up yet.

Neville thanked everyone who fought, who took in refugees, who did not let the Death Eaters reign unopposed. Harry was up next, even if he looked a bit bemused when the horn appeared in his hand. He drank to the fallen and the living, and wished that everyone could live in peace. He was followed, somewhat surprisingly, by Augusta Longbottom who renewed her vows to the goddess Frigg promising to watch over her family and never stop pursuing knowledge. The next one was Dean Thomas.

He walked up the steps slowly, haltingly. When his horn was filled with mead he turned to the gathered people and opened his mouth, but no sound came out. He tried again and this time he managed to speak. "I'm Dean, and I want to drink to those fallen while on the run with me. Ted Tonks and Dirk Cresswell and Gornuk. May your names never be forgotten, your sacrifice never discounted. And to those countless others - I fought so your deaths weren't for nothing, I hope you found peace." With that he drank in deep gulps and left the platform as the horn vanished from his hand.

Hermione sniffled and brushed her tears away. So many died in this awful war and she was still so incredibly lucky not to be one of them, for her parents to still be alive.

Just as Hermione had made the decision to go drink too, Ginny stepped up onto the platform.

"To Neville Longbottom who made damn sure that we never lost hope and would have continued our fight against Voldemort even if Harry died!" She drank decisively and as Hermione drew closer she saw the tears in Ginny's eyes and wondered how often the girl had been close to giving up only for Neville to reignite her hope.

A former Ravenclaw drank to new beginnings as Hermione reached the platform. As he turned to go back to his group (Hermione still hadn't found out by which criteria they were sorted and it was driving her bonkers) she went up the stairs. Even knowing what to expect Hermione was surprised when she suddenly held a horn in her hand.

The texture was somewhat surprising too, smooth in some places and rough in others, as if it hadn't been polished properly. Hermione dunked the horn in the mead in the cauldron and turned to address what she came to think off as 'her' group.

"I want to drink to change tonight. Change for better or worse is the only way we can keep going forward," Hermione said, trying to keep herself from shifting. She was not someone to enjoy being the centre of attention. "I drink to new friendships and overcoming long-held beliefs." Hermione raised her horn in a toast and drank, expecting sweet wine to coat her tongue and pleasantly surprised when she found it to be fresh apple juice instead.

Before Hermione had time to wonder about that the horn vanished from her hand and she turned to leave the platform, her feet curiously carrying her over to come to stand at Draco's side.

This was…new? Hermione huffed and set her mind to properly finding out what the groups stood for. Four founders, four teachers, four groups, four goods called upon. So far so good. But what did connect her with Padma Patil, Blaise Zabini, Fleur and Kingsley? Or rather: What had connected her and why was she now standing with Draco, Theo, Lucius, Mr Weasley and Augusta Longbottom?

Theo and Augusta both worshipped the old gods actively - maybe the others did too? But she was sure Draco would have told her about it if he did.

What had the position of the teachers been? Firenze had faced the group to the west, Professor McGonagall had faced Hermione's group in the south, Professor Babbling had faced Draco and the others in the east and Professor Sinistra had stood in the north. Maybe it had something to do with their subjects?

Lavender and Parvati certainly believed in Divination and they had stood in the west. Hermione hadn't even believed in the Christian god before this ritual and had stood with Professor McGonagall who was very no-nonsense, and Hermione had heard the Professor was atheistic despite being raised by a minister. Professor Babbling taught Ancient Runes and was rumoured to be a pagan, so she most likely believed in the old gods too. And from her lessons Hermione knew that Professor Sinistra believed in numbers and was able to do probability arithmancy with greater accuracy than any divination would ever achieve.

So maybe not so much the subjects themselves, but the belief in the subjects?

Hermione had to admit to herself that that may be the reason why the magic of the henge had directed her to stand next to Draco instead of going back to her place in the south. One did not simply meet four gods, each representing an important part of one's life, and ignore them. That would be rude.

Suddenly Hermione felt Draco's hand slip in hers, and when she turned to look at him he smiled and squeezed her hand gently. Hermione's breath caught and she couldn't help smiling back. Draco's hair seemed to glow in the low light from the fires and at the same time his features seemed harder in a very appealing way. The fire gave him an otherworldly beauty that made Hermione think of Tolkien's elves again. It seemed ages had passed since that evening before Narcissa's hearing when she had seen Draco sitting in Andromeda's garden, his face thrown in stark relief by the setting sun.

Hermione caught herself rambling in her thoughts and blushed. She resolved to blame the strange magic coursing through and around her and the warmth of Draco's hand in hers.

o0o

Many others spoke up that night until Hermione was ready to fall asleep standing, but finally, as the sun was rising over the horizon again the teachers stepped up to the platform for the last time, thanking everyone for coming. They wished safe travels home and as they did, the strange magic around them slowly dissipated, the fires seemingly extinguished on their own.

Just as the morning chill began to creep in, Draco put his arm around Hermione and steered her over to his father.

Lucius was curiously standing next to Arthur Weasley as if it was the most normal thing in the world, and if Hermione hadn't been so dead tired she certainly would have found that much more remarkable.

"Harry and Ron will stay at the Burrow," Arthur told Hermione in hushed tones. "I guess you're going to Andromeda's?"

Hermione nodded. "But I'll be over for lunch, Molly promised to work on my knitting charms with me."

Lucius raised an eyebrow but didn't comment. "Then we should go find Narcissa and Andromeda, I hope Edward isn't too disgruntled."

Arthur shrugged. "I think the magic may have kept him quiet. A young woman to my right had her baby with her too and it slept through the whole thing."

They walked to the north end of the circle, Bill, Charlie and George in tow, all yawning. They were soon joined by the rest of the Weasley clan, and Harry, who looked strangely at Hermione as he saw her walking with Draco. She just smiled at him tiredly.

The group left for Hogsmeade together and Hermione let Draco apparate them to Andromeda's, too tired to be certain that she would make it in one piece on her own. They went straight inside, only sharing a few tired smiles and hushed whispers.

Hermione followed Draco into his room until she realised that there would most likely only be one bed! But before she could protest Draco closed the door behind her and enlarged the bed to a king-size, with no space left between it and the walls. Hermione levitated the nightstand to the other side of the room and opened her beaded bag (her trusty little bag) to summon an additional pillow and blanket.

Draco snorted and shook his head, resuming his quest to shed his outer robes. He wore linen trousers and a muggle band shirt under them and Hermione had to grin.

She took off her burnt-orange robes and took care to hang them up, before she removed her bra in a true feat of flexibility and let it vanish into her bag. Clad in a simple t-shirt and black, opaque tights she turned back around to see Draco had already snuggled under the blankets. Hermione smiled at how comfortable he looked. She was sure that she would be positively mortified in the morning, but for now Hermione slipped under the covers on the other side of the bed.

"Good night, Draco," Hermione mumbled, turning to face him.

Against the low light streaming in through the window Hermione could only see Draco's silhouette, but his voice conveyed his smile just fine when he said, "technically it's good morning, Granger."

Hermione laughed. "Good morning then, prat."

a/n2: There was only one bed! But they enlarged it because they can do magic. What did you think of the chapter? I'm mostly a worshipper of the Norse gods, but I tried to come up with gods that would suit the founders and relate to the area where they're from (Rowena - Scotland, which was Scandinavian dominion in the 10th century - Odin, Godric - England - Toutatis, Helga - Wales - Rhiannon, Salazar - I headcanon him Irish - Ogma). I'm looking forward to reading your lovely reviews! :)