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When Hermione rose from her place in the middle of the stone circle, the smoke that drifted to the sky around her was backlit by the light of the full moon.
She looked like a goddess of death, and the sight of her stole Pansy’s breath.
A delicate hand reached through the haze, beckoning her forward. As she took Hermione’s hand in her own, Pansy stepped into the circle, coughing just a bit from the smoke.
“Alright, love?” Hermione’s crooked grin.
“If you hadn’t noticed, it’s bloody smokey in here, Hermione.”
“Yes, well, that’s the point.”
Pansy leaned in to kiss Hermione’s cheek, batting at the smoke as she pulled away. “Yeah, yeah. Proceed.”
With a smile, Hermione pulled a knife with a jewel-encrusted handle out of the holster strapped to her thigh. “Are you sure about this, Pansy? I mean, this is heavy stuff. There’s no severing the bond. I need to know you’re fully on board.”
She ran the back of her hand along Hermione’s jaw, saying, “I’ve never been surer of something in my life.”
Hermione cupped the back of Pansy’s left hand in her own, her touch soft as she ran the knife across Pansy’s palm, then her own before lacing their fingers together.
Their combined blood ran over their hands, dripping onto Pansy’s boots and Hermione’s bare feet. With a deep breath, they stared into each other’s eyes and began chanting.
The air around them vibrated with potential, and Pansy felt a profound sense of rightness as they started the ritual.
She would be with Hermione forever, from this life to the next.