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Both the Potter and MacDougal Heiresses left the room, descended one set of stairs and left MacDougal Manor, marching bare-feet in the obscurity in the direction of a large group of imposing stones, which appeared to be dolmens. It was hard to judge in the night, but Alexandra believed there were other witches and wizards marching towards the same meeting point.
Once they had reached their destination, this assumption was revealed true. In the middle of the ancestral stones, small candles made in the middle of pumpkins provided the only source of light, revealing between twenty and thirty figures dressed like Morag and Alexandra in skin-tight red robes. Without a word spoken, every participant formed a circle around the biggest dolmen, a large black stone where hundreds, no thousands of runes had been engraved. Piled at the base of the stone were large pumpkins, fruits, vegetables and every sort of cereals which could be cultivated in England. There was also a cow. The animal looked very old and was tied to the stone with a black leash.
One of the masked women in the circle raised her hands, a silent command and every candle in the pumpkins diminished in intensity, before finally being extinguished. In the darkness and the silence, the witch which had just plunged the assembly in the darkness approached the cow in the centre of the circle. She took seconds petting her...and then she struck, slitting the throat of the animal in a fluid and precise movement. Then the masked woman returned to her place in the circle, giving her dagger to the person to her right, who advanced and plunged the bloody dagger in the flesh of the now deceased cow.
One by one, each person in the circle, including Alexandra advanced and shed blood with the dagger. In other circumstances, she would have judged the task to be horrible, but there was a sense of sadness, of powerful power in the air. It was full of magic. Not the magic of Hogwarts, full of light and the joy of students. Deep and raw magic, the type which was practised thousands of years ago, when humanity was young and science was not even a whisper. A time where magic ruled sovereign and was present everywhere in the grass and the rivers. A time which did not exist anymore today.
Once everyone had played its part with the dagger, a new phase of the ritual began. One by one, the witches and wizards of the circles advanced and with their bare-hands, without wands, lightened with their magic one candle circling the dead animal. Unlike the previous step, the length of the time varied a lot: some of the participants needed minutes to light the flame without their wands, while others managed quasi-instantly. Alexandra had not any difficulty, her wandless magic for once answered on command, but the unknown massive wizard on her right took nearly ten minutes.
This task done, the Samhain ritual went on and the women, men, boys and girls present called the magic within them, transforming the circle of candles, the dead cow and all the food stacked around the red stone into an impressive bonfire. It was at this very moment Alexandra realised why these celebrations had been strictly forbidden as part of the Old Ways. The black stone, plunged into the heart of the bonfire, was now a tower of darkness with the runes on it pulsating a glowing crimson colour. Smoke and fire erupted from it, and soon figures of shadows emerged from the dolmen, who was more and more taking the appearance of a gate. No, not a gate. It was a veil. A veil between the world of the living and the dead.
If Alexandra had any doubts about it, she recognised some of the forms now dancing, spirits she had been confronted to when they were alive. A colossal form which could be none other than a troll. A human-sized one with a turban. Professor Devkins. Hundreds of smaller ones, goblins she had seen die at Brise-Roc. Some of the curse-breakers having met their end in this mountainous fortress were there too. Afterwards, Alexandra would be at a loss how much time this part of the ceremony lasted. The figures in the smokes animated, danced and played, their last tribute to the world they had left forever. It was a beautiful experience, but also an extremely humbling one, that reminded next Samhain it could be each of the witches and wizards present which would join the spirits in their last homage.
Finally, the smoke dissipated and the red runes on the stone saw their redness fade away. The bonfire was almost consumed now, the pumpkins, the cereals and the cow, all had been devoured by the magical flames. The darkness was still total, but to her back, Alexandra could guess the dawn would not be long in coming right now, courtesy of long Astronomy lessons. Slowly, the witch, who had led the rituals raised her hand slowly over her head. Exactly what she had intended to do, Alexandra honestly didn't know.
Because at this very moment, the bonfire re-lightened itself. But the fire was not the magical red with purple that had been previously lightened by the participants. It was a green magical fire, and Alexandra realised with a certain sense of doom she recognised the colour. The Potter Heiress saw it every time she examined her eyes in the mirror every morning. From the fire, a shadow formed, indistinct but clearly there where there had been nothing before.