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The twisting, writhing tattoos pulsed in time with Harry’s heartbeat as he ran through the woods, toward the circle, toward his coven, his family. The moon caught the blues, the purples, the greens on his skin and they preened beneath the cool weight of the light. “Shhh,” Harry whispered to them. So excitable, they were. They knew he was getting close.Warm voices wrapped themselves around Harry long before he could see the candles’ soft yellow glow, and his body all but ached with the small distance he still had to cover. The magic in the ley lines beneath his feet rose up, urged him onward as the evening primroses unfurled along the path to guide his steps. Traces of humor were threaded through the Power, and Harry recognized it as Louis’, knew he’d left the navigation spell in his wake specifically for Harry. Lou thought he was so clever.Get lost once, and never live it down.Harry stumbled through the tree line just as the woman in the middle of a circle of Harry’s brothers and sisters raised her arms to draw down the moon.“Cutting it close, Bambi,” Louis said beneath his breath as Harry bumped his shoulder.The witch who was leading the Ostara ceremony slid them a look, but Harry knew that beneath the glare lurked an undeniable fondness. He gave her his best dimpled smile, and let it bend toward apologetic. She rolled her eyes, but shifted her attention back to the sky. Her voice rose crisp and clear against the night.
Today is the time of the Spring equinox.
Ostara is a time of equal parts light and dark.
Spring has arrived, and it is a time of rebirth.
…
And so the ceremony went. Golden happiness sunk into all Harry’s soft places, his lungs, his belly, his heart. There was nothing he loved more than Spring after a long, brutal winter. And it had been a particularly harsh one, the ink on his tattoos dimming so that there had only been a faint hint of them left on his arm by February.Only when Louis had traced the thick lines would they perk up at all, and then only for as long as Lou’s heat and Power lingered on Harry’s skin. “They like me,” Louis would say softly.You have no idea, Harry would think at his best friend. You have no idea how much.After the Ostara ceremony, the tattoos danced, they laughed, they worshiped along with the rest of the coven, welcoming Spring, joyous over it. Louis touched Harry’s arm with gentle fingers, just a whisper over warm skin, a tiny smile tugging at his lips. “They’re happy.” He looked up, met Harry’s eyes. Louis’ were dark in the shadows of the outskirts of the light. “You’re happy.”Harry thought about new beginnings, about being brave. He reached for Louis’ hand, let their fingers tangle. Louis’ eyes went wide, but he didn’t pull away.“Yes, I am.”