𝕄𝕚𝕤𝕥𝕣𝕖𝕤𝕤 𝕠𝕗 𝔻𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕕

October 31st. Halloween. Samhain. Whatever it was called, Sekhmet loved it. She loved dressing up, she loved hanging out with her friends, and most of all she loved the united atmosphere that it brought along with it.

Hogwarts students were bustling this way and that through the Great Hall. Some were already in their costumes, their makeup done and their hands brimming with sweets. Others, like Sekhmet, were still wearing their uniforms, waiting until later to prepare. The Marauders fit into the former category.

Classes were canceled on Halloween, meaning that most of the day had been spent playing tricks or giving treats to other students. What everyone waiting for however was the annual Marauders Halloween prank.

Every year James Potter, Remus Lupin, Sirius Black, and Peter Pettigrew would do some crazy extravagant prank that would inevitably leave half the student body in some sort of predicament. Last year they had set off a giant color bomb in the middle of the Great Hall. All of the students at the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw tables were covered head to toe in dark Gryffindor red. The stain hadn’t washed out for weeks. The group had yet to do anything this year, but everyone knew better than to think they wouldn’t go all out on their last year.

Just as Sekhmet, Evan, Pandora, and Regulus moved to get up, planning on celebrating some ancient Samhain traditions before the Halloween party, a loud bang erupted. Sekhmet knew who had done it before even looking back. As she turned she saw what the Marauders had done.

Everyone, including the professors who were still inside the Great Hall, started to float. Students went this way and that, while some were upside down, their legs flailing. The Great Hall had clouds starting to come down around the students, their panicked voices sounding as if they were on helium. Professor McGonagall, who was currently floating toward one of the Gryffindor banners while sideways, opened her mouth to shout, looking directly at the boys responsible.

“POTTER, BLACK, PETTIGREW, and LUPIN! ALL OF YOU! 100 POINTS FROM GRYFFINDOR AND DETENTION!” McGonagall screamed at the top of her lungs, her voice pitched comically high because of the helium effect. Being McGonagall, she still managed to get everyone else in the hall to shut up, regardless of her humorous voice.

Sekhmet decided, after standing and peering into the Great Hall for no more than twenty seconds, that this was not her problem. She turned on her heel and walked in the opposite direction, planning on going to do what she had originally intended. Her friends, who were all standing and staring at the Great Hall in shock, quickly followed once they realized she was gone.

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The bonfire grew larger, the flames brighter. Pureblood families typically celebrated Samhain the traditional way. They held bonfires where they made offerings to the Earth. They also made an altar to surround the bonfires made of all sorts of different healing herbs and traditional root vegetables.

Sekhmet had always enjoyed Samhain. Despite being Egyptian she still celebrated the holiday growing up. Most of the Wizarding World celebrated Samhain seeing as it was traditionally a Pagan holiday before colonialism. Back in Cairo, Sekhmet and her brothers would make their altars to depict their namesakes, making offerings to the Earth in the name of their ancestors. The Arafas would spend Samhain in ancient Egyptian temples, having their celebratory bonfires in the sanctuaries. The most common one that they went to was the ancient temple of Ra, the ancient Egyptian god of creation— also their great ancestor.

Regulus, Evan, Pandora, and Sekhmet all sat outside on the Hogwarts grounds toward the Forbidden Forest. They sat on different stumps from trees cut down long ago for this purpose. The founders of Hogwarts had decided that there would be designated places of worship for any student who would step into the halls of their school. Due to Salazar Slytherin being a pureblood, he too celebrated Samhain, leading him to install a special place of worship for pagan witches and wizards.

The fire was beginning to burn just right for offerings when Regulus spoke up, his eyes focusing on the setting sun. He sat on his stump, manspreading his legs, and resting his arms on top of one another.

“What all did you bring as offerings?” Regulus questioned, his gaze moving back to the group.

“I brought some Dittany ointment that I plan to do a burn offering spell with” Sekhmet replied first, her eyes meeting Regulus as she spoke.

“I brought a few petals of the Rosier eternal rose. It’s been in our family for 25 generations, and it’s from the same original rose bush planted by the first Rosier to settle in England,” Evan said, his tone showing his pride at having something personal to offer up.

“I brought along some seeds I gathered over the summer when my family traveled across Europe for a holiday,” Pandora told the group, a smile forming on her face as she brought them out of her pocket to show them.

Regulus realized it was his turn to share once everyone turned their attention to him. He looked confused at first before glancing over to Sekhmet who gestured to the small bag by his side with a smile.

“Ah right! I brought one of the Black family's ancestral gold rings I found in the vault. No one had used it for centuries and its magical properties seemed abundant so I thought it could be a good offering,” Regulus vocalized his thoughts, his hands coming to play with the ring that he had taken out of his bag.

They each moved around the fire as the sun set lower, the last of its rays peeking out over the trees and illuminating their altars in an enchanting light. Regulus went first, throwing his ring into the fire. The bonfire shot up into the sky in a matter of seconds. Its originally orange flames shone a bright white signifying that the offering was accepted into the Earth. Pandora went second, gently tossing her seeds into the fiery depths. This time the flames whirled downwards in some kind of spiral. They could all see the seeds as they burnt, their magical green essence shining as they were received. Evan went next, walking closer to the fire as he pulled the rose petals out of a small glass case. He threw the petals into the air strongly saying the Rosier motto with an almost chanting quality; if you can’t find a path, make one. The flames turned a bright red in return, the red the same shade as the rose petals.

Everyone else going made Sekhmet last. She strolled up to the bonfire and knelt before it, pulling her Dittany ointment out of her pocket. As she laid that before her she also brought out one of the Arafa daggers. The dagger was said to have belonged to Isis herself, the Egyptian goddess of fertility. Sekhmet thought it was perfect for the occasion. She opened the Dittany ointment and placed it back down. Sekhmet grabbed the dagger once more piercing the palm of her hand with its blade. She squeezed her cut hand into a fist, directing the flow of blood over the Dittany. When her blood had mixed well enough into the ointment she set down the dagger and quickly performed a silent healing spell on her palm. She stood up off the ground, bringing the small vial with her. Everyone was silent at what ensured next. Sekhmet brought the vial to a steady drip over the fire as she chanted in Latin to the Earth speaking of how what has been given will one day return. The flames spouted out of the fire sideways maneuvering its way around them. As they made it to the outermost part of the ritual site they began to rise in an upward spiral. The flames were a bright azure, their color sucking in the attention of anyone who was around to see them. Sekhmet smiled to herself, genuinely happy to have had her offerings produce such a result.

The fire went out as the last of the sun went down, signaling the end of their Samhain celebration. Pandora, Regulus, Evan, and Sekhmet all started cleaning up their belongings from the ritual site in silence. The veil between life and death was thinning, and they could all feel it. As they finished cleaning up they all began to make their way back toward the castle, moving in a powerful bout of tranquility.