Oleandra twirled on the spot and vanished, leaving behind a flurry of blue feathers that drifted slowly to the floor. In the next heartbeat, she reappeared further down the corridor, now behind the members of the R.C. Club.
They were still firing spells at the empty space she'd left behind her, their curses occasionally colliding mid-air and bursting into showers of colourful sparks that scorched the walls and set the carpet smouldering. Thin veils of dust and smoke began to rise, clouding their vision and filling the passage with the scent of burnt fabric and panic.
"I don't see her," Neville choked out, coughing. "Did we get her?"
To Oleandra, it almost seemed as though they were venting their frustration, anger and hopelessness upon her— the one they believed responsible for Dumbledore's death. White-hot fury surged through her. What did they know of her suffering? Her sacrifices? She had never wished for any of this to happen. If anyone had the right to let off steam on a few unsuspecting fools, it was her!
"Behind us!" Ginny yelled.
"INGWAZZZ!" Oleandra thundered.
Oleandra planted her hands on her hips, assuming the stadha of Ingwaz. Her runic magic burst forth and swept through her unsuspecting opponents like a tidal wave, pinning them flat to the floor as though an invisible weight had dropped upon their backs. Wriggle as they might, they couldn't so much as twitch the wands in their clenched fists, let alone wave them to cast a spell.
Being stuck to the floor didn't stop those who had managed to twist around in time from shooting her the evil eye. Faced with such undeserved hatred, Oleandra felt her temper begin to simmer once more. She mechanically turned the golden band of her black-stoned ring around her finger— a small gesture she had come to find oddly comforting over the past month.
"You asked earlier why I saved your aunt, Bones," said Oleandra spitefully. "The answer is that I did it on a whim. Just like… this!"
Oleandra drew back her foot and kicked Neville hard in the face, breaking his nose and knocking loose a few teeth. He howled in pain, and she felt a vicious thrill at the sight of blood running from his nose and mouth… and she also felt annoyance, as he kept staring at her with undisguised hostility.
"Please stop hurting Neville," said Luna, staring up at Oleandra with clear eyes. "This isn't you."
But Oleandra's true nature was that of a Greater Fairy. Fae Folk were capricious at the best of times, and they could become mercurial and downright cruel when their moods soured… which was often.
Her previous incarnation, Viviane, had done some great things for the humans she mingled with, standing alongside King Arthur against Morgan le Fay and foreign invaders. Yet, she had also committed acts most would consider inhuman. Often, she would curse allies to assume hideous appearances for fun, under the pretext of teaching them the virtues of humility or chivalry. Once, she had even kidnapped the child of King Ban, raising him as her own, which eventually led to the downfall of the original Order of the Round Table.
Despite being considered a 'good' Fairy, Viviane's catalogue of crimes against humanity was no less fearsome than that of her sister Morgan.
"You put on the ring?" said Ginny, her eyes widening as she saw the black stone on Oleandra's finger, glinting in the morning sunlight filtering through the window. "Take that thing off now!"
"Make me," Oleandra sniggered.
The Hogwarts Express gave a long, cheerful toot with its whistle, signalling that it would soon be on its way. And the very next moment, Oleandra heard the door of the next coach clack open. She turned, expecting an enemy… and froze.
"Oleandra?" said Tracey, her voice barely more than a whisper.
There she stood, as beautiful and as melancholy as the day she had last seen her.
Oleandra's mind went completely blank. She had known she would eventually see Tracey if they both returned to Hogwarts, but she had never expected it to happen so soon. During those long, lonely summer days, she had imagined countless conversations, rehearsed the words she might say to reconnect. Yet the moment she met Tracey's sorrowful eyes, all those carefully chosen sentences seemed to vanish from her mind.
"So it's true, then," Tracey said, her lip trembling and tears welling in her eyes as she looked down at Neville's bloodied, swollen face at Oleandra's feet. "You sisters really killed him, didn't you?"
Horror washed over Oleandra. Of all the scenarios she had imagined might happen, this was the worst one.
"Wait, Tracey," Oleandra mumbled, her tongue finally untying itself. "I— we—"
"Save it," said Tracey, her voice icy. "We're done, Oleandra. Or Dark Lady. Or whatever you and your sister like to call yourselves these days. Goodbye."
Tracey turned on her heel and disappeared into the next coach, leaving Oleandra feeling absolutely miserable. Barely a second later, the last person Oleandra wanted to see entered the coach, flanked by his two goons, Crabbe and Goyle.
"Well, what's all this, then?" said Loki with a smirk. Malfoy's smug, haughty and self-satisfied mug really suited him well, Oleandra had to admit. "I heard there was a scuffle, but fighting before the train's even left the station?"
"Hardly what I'd call a fight," Oleandra said, her voice dark as she glanced down at the helpless R.C. Club members strewn across the floor. They had the sense to temper their mocking leers— her boot was as swift as it was liberal in its application to their faces— but they still stared up at her with sheer hatred. "Do what you will with them. I need their compartment."
Crabbe and Goyle stooped low to disarm the R.C. Club members, and Oleandra released her magic with a click of her fingers. Holding them at wandpoint, they then shepherded them to the prefects' compartment in the first coach, leaving Oleandra alone with Draco… or rather, Loki.
"Already planning extracurricular activities behind the Dark Lord's back, are we?" said Loki mockingly. "Well, aren't we ambitious... but I like that about you, truly."
Oleandra's eyes narrowed. How much did he know?
"Remember, I've friends in high places, if you catch my drift," Loki laughed, as he turned to follow Crabbe and Goyle through the door. "And they've got eyes like a hawk's…"
Oleandra stood rooted to the spot, fists clenched tightly at her sides, as Loki strutted away. His laughter grew faint, finally swallowed by a shrill whistle as he disappeared into the next coach. The whistle faded, replaced by the metallic screech of wheels and the loud huffing and puffing of the steam engine.
The Hogwarts Express was on the move, and the countdown started… now.