"There's Neville," Oleandra said, casting her gaze upwards as she and Loki stepped into the Grand Staircase's tower. "Up there, the stairs leading to the third floor."
Without warning, Loki doubled over and began laughing wildly.
"Something funny?" Oleandra said coldly, gazing at him with narrowed eyes. "Care to share?"
Oleandra supposed there was something comical about the way the slightly overweight Neville huffed and puffed his way up the stairs, though not enough to make her burst out in laughter. At the sound of Draco's voice, Neville glanced over the railing with wide eyes, and he hurried on as fast as his chubby legs could carry him.
"Oh, you wouldn't get it…" Loki said, wiping a tear of hilarity from his eye as he straightened his body. "But you'll understand sooner or later…"
Oleandra had had more than enough of Loki's cryptic half-hints. Nothing that came from his mouth could be trusted; his words were like vitriol, and his attempts at conversation were little more than pouring poison into her ears. His tongue was her Mystic Eyes' natural enemy. At the end of the day, there could be only one…
…and yet, much as she longed to spring her trap then and there and end this farce, something told her the time was not yet ripe. For some reason, the optimal path to the future had not yet revealed itself.
"The entrance isn't on the second floor, today!" came a boy's voice from above. "Ron?"
"It's not on the third, either!" Ron's voice then rang out. "It has to be on the seventh!"
Oleandra looked up as Seamus Finnigan and Ron Weasley appeared on the floors above.
"Greengrass and Malfoy are here!" Neville wheezed. "Run!"
"Where to?" Ron said helplessly, glancing down at them over the railing. "They saw our faces!"
Even though they hadn't technically done anything wrong yet, it was obvious to anyone that they were up to no good… and besides, when had the Inquisition ever needed a good reason to torment Gryffindors?
"I've got it!" Ginny's voice suddenly rang out, from far above them. "I've got it!"
Oleandra and Loki craned their necks. Ginny had just emerged from the seventh floor, clutching something that glinted silver in the light of the candles floating all throughout the Grand Staircase.
Neville groaned. "I was hoping we could get them to chase us before she showed up… oh well, we might as well fight," he then raised his voice, shouting, "Run, Ginny! We'll hold them off!"
Loki and Oleandra were greeted by a rain of red bolts as they ascended the stairs to the first floor.
Oleandra's figure blurred as she invoked her Quick-Change Charm, before whispering her secret word under her breath. Her black school robes vanished into nothingness, instantly replaced by her Basilisk-skin robes, which spiralled and locked into place around her torso in rotating rings of fabric. At the same time, intricately painted runes writhed across her exposed skin like little snakes, forming profound patterns that needed only a light brush to unleash their magics.
"I'll go on ahead," Oleandra said, vaulting off the stair railing into the void below, calling, "Suit!"
Black ooze bubbled forth like tar from her Basilisk-skin combat robes, where Suit the Lethifold had made its home. Its leathery folds billowed behind her as she fell… and then gravity seemed to release its hold on her, and Oleandra spiralled up the tower, passing a dazed Neville, Seamus, and Ron.
Ginny clearly had no intention of running away as Neville had hoped; she was coming down the stairs four steps at a time.
"With Teiwaz above, below, left, right and centre, within and without," Oleandra shouted as she tapped her shoulder, taking careful aim at the Heir of Slytherin, "I call upon the Pleaides!"
A harsh aura enveloped Oleandra as she substituted the Ever-Victorious Lance for the Giant's Strength rune for her Galdr, and a heartbeat later, seven magical bolts of pure white light burst forth from her body, arcing towards Ginny, who had just finished chanting a spell under her breath.
A silver shield appeared before Ginny, but Teiwaz's penetrating properties made short work of it, piercing straight through as if it were nothing more than tissue paper. Startled, Ginny raised Gryffindor's sword and swatted at the bolts as they came, sending them careening in random directions.
"Descendo Maxima!" Ginny shouted, pointing her wand down as she invoked the Anti-Flight Jinx's incantation.
"That won't work on me any more!" Oleandra laughed. "Why don't you take a little trip downstairs instead?"
After her first duel under the stars with Ginny, Oleandra had learned her lesson. Flight was an incredible advantage under normal circumstances, but if her opponent was skilful enough to deploy a domain that sealed off the skies, then being forced to land mid-flight would sting indeed. And so, by tinkering with Hogwarts's restrictions, she had ensured that flight could never be forbidden!
"Stairs, down!" Oleandra shouted gleefully.
The enhanced Marauder's Map concealed in her collar heard her command and obliged. To Ginny's utter shock, the stairs beneath her abruptly shifted from its upwards configuration to a downwards slope, the steps flattening into a smooth slide that sent her rocketing off the edge into the abyss…
…but after falling a few metres, Ginny swooped up. Luckily for her, Oleandra had unwittingly saved her life by forbidding the deployment of any Anti-Flight Jinxes.
"…I completely forgot she could fly," Oleandra muttered to herself.
It had been some time since their trip to Nidavellir, but even then, Ginny had shown that, as a second-year student, she had already mastered unassisted flight— an ability that, in the history of Wizarding aeronautics, no one but You-Know-Who and Professor Snape had ever achieved. Not even Oleandra could fly without her pet Lethifold's help.
"GINEVRA WEASLEY!"
Startled by the sound of her own voice, Oleandra looked down… and so did Ginny. On the ground floor, Daphne stood, staring resolutely up at them.
"The time to end this farce has come," Daphne said coldly, her magically enhanced voice echoing across the tower. "Kill Oleandra Greengrass, then Draco Malfoy."
"What!?" Oleandra gasped, swooping down to meet her sister. "Daphne, what are you saying?"
"You having a laugh, mate?" Ron scoffed. "We hate them, yeah, but if we kill them, it'll be 'cause we're at war, not 'cause you said so…"
Ron's voice trailed off at the sight of his sister slowly descending through the air. He had never seen her fly without a broom before. In fact, he had never seen anyone fly without a broom, except… You-Know-Who, when he had come after the Seven Potters earlier this year. And that silver hand of hers… he had never questioned it before, he'd barely had a few days to come to terms with his forced return to Hogwarts, but… wasn't it just like the one Harry had said You-Know-Who gave Scabbers?
Noticing Ron staring at her with his mouth hanging half-open, Ginny laughed coldly.
"What, didn't Oleandra tell you?" she said with a thin smile. "I'm the Heir of Slytherin. It's been rather entertaining, watching you all squirm and struggle all these years, but I'm afraid that particular fount's run dry."
"N-no," Ron stammered. "You're just taking the piss… this isn't funny, Ginny… you can't…"
Ginny said nothing, only raised her wand and levelled it at Oleandra, whose back was turned as she delivered an impassioned plea to her sister to wake up and fight back for control… a plea that was evidently falling on deaf ears.
The old man Dumbledore's scheme was unfolding exactly as he'd planned. And as expected…
"NO!" shouted Ron. "Expelliarmus!"