Chapter Text
Albus felt the excitement ringing in the air way before he even got to the dining hall for breakfast. It seemed that the air was electrified with how impatient people were for the ceremonies to start.
"Hopes are high," Paweł whispered to Albus when they sat down to eat. "Winter was particularly cold and unusual this year, so everyone is hoping the ceremonies would help."
"Isn't spring supposed to come regardless of the ceremony?"
Paweł shook his head. The sandwich he was making started to resemble a miniature tower with all the salad, cucumber, tomatoes and cheese he put on it.
"It doesn't work like that. There's like—a set of conditions that have to be met in order for spring to come back. First, you need the ceremony, Jare Gody. Then, the equinox. That's today. And then we'll be waiting for the first lightning to strike, which is also supposed to happen today. This would mean spring is really here. You should ask Gellert about it."
"You said that before. Why him? You seem to know a lot too."
Albus poured himself some coffee before eyeing the freshly baked bread in the basket.
"Not the way Gellert does. I just read a lot and I also know the traditions that were cultivated in my own family, but Gellert—he spends a lot of time with our wołchw. He learned those things from him and he's said to be the next wołchw after our current one dies."
"Wo—who?"
Merlin's pants, what was with Slavs and those crazy ass weird names with impossible to spell vowels? Not even the translation spell could cope and produced gibberish.
"Wołchw. Our—shaman, I guess? Druid?"
"Oh."
Alright, that made much more sense.
"You'll see him later since he'll be presiding over the ceremony today."
"Is that where Gellert was disappearing? To meet him?"
"Yes," Paweł sighed. "It's not a secret, but Gellert tries to keep the prying eyes away from himself. He never says what exactly he learns from Gniewosz. We just know he does."
"Interesting. But I doubt he'd tell me more—he isn't exactly talkative."
"You'd be surprised."
Paweł said nothing more, and Albus was left to ponder. He ate his breakfast, finished his coffee, and helped out with some last-minute preparations—mostly stacking wood for the bonfires. Then the boys slowly headed back to the castle to dress and prepare for the celebration.
Albus also got changed into white robes, compulsory for the evening, kept together with a leather belt. It was decorated with colourful patterns woven on the fabric. The wool was uncomfortable, biting into his skin, but he knew it would keep him warm, just like the coat made of wolf fur.
The only thing that didn't fit was his red hair—everyone else was blonde.
By two o'clock it was already starting to get dark. All the boys walking behind the effigy got torches to light at the very end of the procession. The effigy bearers were three. Now, raised high into the air and basking in the last sun rays, the effigy looked more human, wrapped in a white bridal dress. Her eyes still were creepy, though.
Albus immediately spotted Gellert talking to an old man wearing even richer robes. He wanted to call out to greet him, but he was pulled away by Paweł.
Their procession was joined by people from the villages nearby. Albus didn't exactly know how many there were in the proximity of Durmstrang, but enough to let the march stretch along the path. The villagers were adults and children, young and elderly, all with serious but hopeful faces, dressed similarly to the students. Some girls wore scarves or garlands on their heads, their long hair let loose.
Even before the march started, the wave of excitement got more intense, electrifying Albus' skin. He heard nervous laughter and feverish whispers while they waited for the beginning of the celebration, ice and mud under their feet. It was cold.
"Are warming spells allowed?" Albus whispered towards Paweł.
"Yes," he answered. "I have a feeling they might be really useful tonight."
Gellert and his companion joined the procession. Gellert was helping out the effigy bearers, and they intoned an odd song which words Albus didn't understand. It made him shiver, the high tones crossing the air. He tried to decipher the meaning, but couldn't—the translation spell failed completely.
"They are singing about the spring," Paweł whispered into his ear. "About spring and rebirth."
They marched through the wood, still deep submerged in the winter snow. The trees were still sleeping, but the vibrations of the song and magic must have been coursing through them like life-giving juices. Snow was crunching under their feet—it had been falling the whole night—and the eerie calm stretched through the forest. Albus was glad for company.
Even before making it to the river that was going to lead them to the lake, they stopped in the middle of the forest, forming a circle around the Marzanna. The song grew stronger and louder, echoing among the branches. Not losing a beat, the man—Gellert's companion—summoned fire into his hand.
"Who's that?"
"That's our wołchw," Paweł stepped in, once more. "Gniewosz. He's a master of fire."
"I can see that."
Albus watched with fascination how Gniewosz slowly lit the effigy up. The white dress and hay easily took fire, changing into a big torch. They lit up their own small torches from it, making the forest glimmer.
Then they marched further east, following the course of the river. It forked into two before joining the shining lake waters in the heart of the forest. They spread along the coastline in front of the bonfire wood, waiting.
And then it began.
Marzanna, still on fire, was thrown into the lake. All the gatherers started cheering, relief drowning the crowd. As soon as the big bonfire was lit, the mood became much more relaxed—as if all bad feelings were away together with the drowning effigy.
The bonfire was burning bright by the time people threw herbs and glowers into it, the smell of spices getting intense and coursing through the air. It might have caused a specific reaction in some of the participants since they started taking off their clothes and dancing around the fire—naked. Some even dared to jump into the lake, which must have been incredibly cold. Albus could only stare.
"You alright?" Paweł asked as he joined Albus near the bonfire. He'd already gotten rid of the upper part of his robes and was also wearing a wreath in his hair.
"Yes. Just—surprised. Nobody warned me about this."
"Prude."
The comment came not from Paweł, but—surprisingly enough—from Gellert who appeared out of the shadows. Ivan joined them too, welcoming their friends and pointedly ignoring Albus.
Albus himself felt excluded from their circle, standing to the side and watching. He nervously put his hair behind his ear; his clothes getting uncomfortable.
"Albus."
He looked up to where the three friends stood in embrace.
"We're going to swim," Paweł offered. "Join us!"
The tips of his ears and cheeks started to burn.
"I—no."
He caught Gellert's eye and forced himself to keep looking despite the challenge clearly visible in the blonde's irises.
And promptly, Gellert attacked.
"What are you afraid of?"
"Nothing."
"Then you're jumping in."
It sent shivers running down Albus' spine—the command, the challenge, the magic in the air.
"Okay," he fired back. He wouldn't back out now.
"Yes!" The boys hollered. Their clothes went off quickly, but Albus hesitated. His fingers lingered around the belt while the others were already jumping in. The fur came off, but the rest of his clothing—
Getting naked in front of everyone? Yeah, fantastic idea.
"Duckling!"
While the others swam away, Gellert stayed near the shore. His hair was free of the bun, falling down his arms; his chest bare, revealing a few tattoos. He looked beautiful, basked in the silver waters and the sparks of the bonfire.
He caught Albus staring.
"See something you like?"
The smirk was impossible to miss.
"No, I—"
"Come on, little duckling. Show me you got the guts."
Albus took off his robes in one sharp move and jumped in before overthinking. The cold waters froze him to the core, but it was too late to back out now; besides, there was Gellert, watching, smirking.
In his daze, Albus almost gave in to the flash of warmth spreading through him and lost his balance, falling in too deep. He swallowed some of the lake water and would have gone under if it weren't for Gellert, helping him keep his head above the surface. His hands backed Albus' arms.
"You good?"
"Yes," Albus answered after a long bout of coughing. Gellert's hand on his skin burned, and he stared for a long time, searching. What for, Albus couldn't be sure. Then Gellert let go and Albus fell back with a splash—losing his breath again. He regained it on his own.
"Fuck, Gellert!"
It was the first time he heard Gellert laugh, and the sound was utterly delicious. Albus smiled, too.
They drifted back together—not touching, but close enough—and the outside noise seemed to disappear, leaving just a faint hum of blood in Albus' ears.
"How do you like the festival so far?" Gellert asked, if only to break the tension.
"It's…" Albus wet his lips. "Interesting."
"Oh?"
"We don't have such customs in the north."
Gellert raised a brow. "Don't you? I dare say Celts have some traditions in common with us. More than you probably realise."
"That's different," Albus denied, wincing when a stronger wave hit his chest. "We don't practice the old faith anymore."
"Why not?"
Albus scrambled in search for an answer. "It's impractical."
"Impractical," Gellert echoed, something strange passing through his eyes. Albus wasn't sure if it was anger or the reflection of fire. "You want to say that you stopped believing."
"We need no gods to survive."
"Did you ever consider that gods might need you to survive?"
"Do you really believe that?"
Gellert glanced at the dark sky before staring back at Albus, his gaze serious.
"Yes," he said simply. "We wouldn't be here today, otherwise."
"What do you mean?"
"Do you know why we're having this celebration?"
"To celebrate spring?"
"To summon it." Gellert's eyes became burning. "Did you hear the tale of two sisters?"
"No. Is it related to Marzanna? I tried asking Paweł, but he told me to ask you. Said you'd know more."
"Great."
Albus cleared his throat when Gellert didn't say anything more.
"So—the tale?"
"There are two sisters that impact the changing of the seasons: Marzanna and Dziewanna. Marzanna rules autumn and winter, Dziewanna spring and autumn—together with her husband, Jarowit." The lull of Gellert's voice was soft, as mesmerising as the lake waters washing around them both. "When one sister rules, the other is away. They hand over celestial keys to the earth and sky to the new ruler before leaving our plane. It happens every six months."
"Fascinating."
"Yes. Burning the effigy is a signal for Marzanna to give away the keys to her sister and go rest."
"Shouldn't she know when it's her time to go? If I understand it correctly, she's a goddess. I imagine she has a lot of power and should know such things."
Gellert shrugged. "Possibly. The celebrations are both for us and for her. It's not mutually exclusive."
"So how do you know that the keys were handed over and Dziew—whatever her name is—is awake?"
"Spring arrives with the first thunder. It should happen today."
"Today? How can you tell?"
"It usually happens on the equinox night after our elemental performance." Gellert sighed. "Come on. You're shivering."
He really was.
"It's awfully cold for the first spring night," he said, waddling towards the shore after Gellert. "Maybe winter is not ready to leave."
Gellert turned back to him so fast that water splashed on them both. With his hands tightened into fists and eyes thunderous, he looked every bit like a god about to let out his wrath.
"Don't say such things," he hissed. "Winter can't stay. It already overstayed its welcome."
The way he said it suggested that there was much more to today's night than was revealed to Albus.
Wordlessly, they made their way to the fire, the mood dampened. Albus' head kept reeling with questions, but Gellert was too pissed to answer any of them now. He decided to save them for a better occasion while they put on their clothes.
A setback.
Gellert was back to being his prickly self, talking only to his closest friends as the night progressed. He even ignored Albus' questions about the food they got to try during the feast that had also prompted the swimmers to come out of water. So, Albus got to eat his eggs and try mead, all while marvelling at the people jumping over small fires burning along the shore. He supposed it had a similar meaning to freezing in the lake—cleansing.
"What did you do to Gellert?" Paweł asked him as soon as Gellert disappeared, apparently to confer with Gniewosz.
"I might have offended him."
Albus grimaced, his eyes following Gellert and other wizards gathering around the main bonfire. They were getting naked, covered only sparingly in scraps of clothing. Modesty didn't matter today anymore.
Besides, Gellert looked glorious with his bare chest and tattoos spreading across his skin, alive in the bonfire light.
"What did you say?"
"I'd rather not repeat it."
He shot an apologetic look towards Paweł, ignoring Ivan's judging face. They still didn't get on well.
"Don't worry too much about it. It's Gellert, after all. He's always grumpy and offended."
Albus nodded, though unconvinced. For a moment there he thought he managed to make a peace treaty with Gellert, maybe even reaching some sort of understanding, but it all fell apart with one stupid question.
Once the dancers stood in a formation of four rows, silence reigned. Albus also stared, together with other spectators, anticipation coursing through his blood like wildfire. He could already feel tension building while they all waited—
And waited some more.
The dancers froze completely, though Albus, with his eyes focused completely on Gellert, could see the steady rising and falling of his chest. He was utterly focused, otherworldly in his stone-like stature; it looked like he was preparing and gathering his power. His stance, contrary to other dancers, was wide, hands clenched at his sides; the line of his arms was rigid. As the only one in the formation, he stared right into the starry sky, and Albus followed his gaze, just to understand his mind at work.
But then—
Then silence was punctuated by the drums. It started beating sharply, like a heartbeat, and Albus shivered. It resembled rain falling hard down upon them and showering them with power. He couldn't shake it off since the sound filled his whole being.
It was the signal for the performers, too. The dancers in the first row moved forward, their hands and arms waving with water. They were drawing it from the lake nearby in thick ropes that soon rose into the air, forming ropes and scattering in fountains. Fire sparkled in them, helping flowers to shoot right into the air and vanish in vapour.
The drums started beating even more frenetically, gaining speed and more power. Magic was thick in the air—even Albus with his limited capabilities could detect it.
Soon the air dancers joined the performance, helping the water flow through the air. The wind picked up, building up to a storm; Albus felt a shiver coursing through him once he understood that this was their real goal—to summon the thunder.
A thunder, after all, was a clear sign of the spring's starting reign, and it came right on the point during the equinox.
He focused back on Gellert, who hadn't joined the performance just yet. He stood still, watching but not joining. He was accompanied by Gniewosz, who was also waiting—for what exactly, Albus didn't know, but he expected it to be spectacular. Gellert commanded the magic of shadows, after all, and shadows were long and capricious that night.
He watched the other performers with the corner of his eye—they were currently jumping in and out of a circle of eye—when he noticed Gellert slowly uncoiling. His movements were barely perceptible, just the unclenching of his arms and a small step forward. He was so intense, though, that he immediately attracted attention, balls of grey forming in his hands.
The shadows went out quietly, underlining the water spiralling into the air. Together with the wind, they created a real spring rainstorm that made thousands of pink flowers bloom. They covered the area at the dancers feet first before spreading further around the beach like a soft carpet as the drums reached crescendo.
Just as the rainfall reached the critical point, the dancers raised their hands up and froze. The drums were also cut out—
But nothing happened.
Albus leaned towards Paweł, confused.
"What—"
"Quiet," Paweł hissed.
Obediently, Albus asked kept quiet, still not understanding anything. The performance was supposed to reach climax, and it ended up being suspended. The dancers were still waiting, frozen, tense, and anxiety started to rise like a tide. Tension built like a bubble ready to burst.
And it was popped by a blonde boy jumping into the circle and stopping right in front of Gniewosz and Gellert, visibly out of breath.
"There's a body lying in the forest," He panted out. "It's our student. I think he froze to death."
