Chereads / Harry Potter and the Sorceress of the Stars / Chapter 10 - Oleandra is a nosy busybody

Chapter 10 - Oleandra is a nosy busybody

Luckily for Potter and Oleandra, they were not to be burned at the stake, but instead invited to join their House's Quidditch team.

"I'd rather not join the team," said Oleandra honestly. 

She was experiencing somewhat of an ethical dilemma. She had basically cheated to achieve the amazing flight capabilities she had manifested. She had impressed Madam Hooch so much that after dropping Longbottom off at the Hospital Wing, she suppressed her distaste and went to Snape directly to recommend Oleandra, even though she was a first-year!

"Why in the bloody hell would you not wanna be part of the team?" Marcus Flint asked with a dumb look on his face. "Think of all the glory, the ladies…"

His voice trailed off.

"Miss Greengrass, it would be in your best interest to join," Snape said in an icy tone. "Rules are not made to be broken, and regardless of your good intentions, you disobeyed Madam Hooch by flying after the Longbottom boy."

His eyes narrowed.

"Now imagine next year, twenty first-years trying to replicate your feats and breaking their necks." 

Now, even though Snape balked at the idea of rewarding a rule-breaking student, setting a dangerous precedent in the process, he loathed even more the idea of allowing Harry Potter to follow in his father's footsteps and actually succeeding. He needed to counter talent with talent. Just in case.

"But I've never even touched a broom before," argued Oleandra. "And I'm really weak. And my reflexes aren't good enough!"

"If you won't play," said Snape, "Then it will be a month's detention for you. Polishing every single Quidditch Cup in the trophy room might make for a memorable lesson, I suppose."

Oleandra gulped hard. She was already behind the other students on regular spells since she had been practising her rune engraving technique, not to a mention she had a huge three-foot-long parchment on Emeric the Evil to hand in for History of Magic next Monday that she had not even started yet…

On the other hand, joining the team would sap her time for the next six years! Although, it might help her train her physical abilities, which she had to admit was her second-worst point. (Right after her atrocious spellcasting abilities.)

Alright, she reasoned. Even Pro-Quidditch players are allowed to race on different types of brooms, right? And they were allowed to add modifications, right? So, it was fine if the runes were directly engraved onto the broom, right!?

"I'll do it!" she exclaimed.

"Wonderful," said Snape lazily. "It's settled, then. Flint, I'll leave her to you."

And then he walked away.

"Uh-huh," said Flint noncommittally. 

"All our spots are already filled, and our teamwork is already perfect for our … strategies."

Oleandra snorted. She knew their strategies meant a copious number of fouls when things weren't going their way.

"The way I see it, Terence Higgs is a decent enough seeker, but you'll be competing for his job," said Flint with a toothy grin. "I'll also be testing you on how well you can avoid Bludgers. See you this afternoon after classes."

 Oleandra was exhausted. She had just spent two hours avoiding two Slytherin Beaters gleefully sending Bludgers rocketing after her, while racing Higgs to the Golden Snitch. Marcus Flint, always expecting the other three Houses to act like Slytherin does, even led his Chasers after her randomly to commit fouls. Just in case, he had said. Anyways, it turned out that Terrence Higgs wasn't that amazing, and Oleandra managed to beat him to the Snitch two times out of three, on an old broom, no less. 

Finally satisfied, Flint let her go back to the common room, where she found Malfoy pontificating to a small crowd of first years.

"And then, I challenged Potter to a Wizard's duel, and Weasley's acting as his second!" Malfoy said.

"That'll put them in their place!" squealed Pansy. "When are you doing it?"

"I told them tonight at midnight, in the trophy room. Except I won't actually go, and I'll sic Filch on them!" he said, proud of his idea.

Oleandra felt uncomfortable when she heard this. Sure, she liked plots, conspiracies and schemes as much as the next Slytherin, but a duel was a matter of honour. It wouldn't do to have him tarnish the image of her House and the pride of nobles any more than he already had.

Oleandra resolved herself and went to find her sister in the crowd. They hadn't been on the best of terms initially, but as she had proved her worth, Daphne had come to accept her.

"Sister, don't you think the way Malfoy acts is a stain upon our collective honour, as fellow members of the Sacred Twenty-Eight?" Oleandra said offhandedly.

"It is disgraceful behaviour," Daphne sniffed.

"I suppose someone should probably warn Potter," Oleandra said nonchalantly.

"I suppose so."

"Indeed."

The sisters looked at each other.

The duo arrived at the trophy room in advance, so that they could intercept the duelists before Filch arrived. A few moments later, Potter and Weasley arrived, followed by Longbottom and Granger.

"That's an awful amount of seconds for a duel, don't you think?" Oleandra said, still trying to act casual. Had they walked into an ambush?

"Where's Malfoy and Crabbe?" asked Weasley suspiciously.

"They're not coming," answered Daphne. "We —"

"So what, we're not good enough for him? He thinks two girls will be able to beat us?" said Weasley incredulously. 

Granger, Oleandra and Daphne glared at him. Never mind warning them, they were going to get taught a lesson!

"Forget it," said Oleandra angrily. "Potter against my sister, you against me, Weasley. Shall we dance?"

Granger was very miserable. She had set out to stop them from dueling, and here she was acting as referee!

"Stand back-to-back, then take ten steps forward. On the count of three, you may attack! Three, two, one… Duel!"

"Flipendo!"

"Tarantallegra!"

Daphne opted for the Knockback Jinx they had learned in Defense Against the Dark Arts, and Potter had selected the Dancing Feet spell learned in Charms class. Potter flipped through the air and landed on his bottom, while Daphne started tap-dancing.

"Calligae Lubrica!"

"Locomotor Wibbly!"

Oleandra selected the Slippery Jinx, sending Weasley off his feet and sprawling on his sides. Reflexes still fully alert, she ducked under her opponent's Jelly-Legs Jinx, which rebounded on a nearby trophy and hit her in the back, making her fall to her knees.

"It seems we've won," observed Potter smugly. He was the only one still mobile, after all. Weasley couldn't stand on his feet without slipping and falling on his back, Daphne was still dancing and Oleandra was crawling along the floor.

"Come on, everyone gather around me," Granger sighed. "I'll lift your spells, and hopefully we'll have all learned from the futility of this exercise."

"Finite!"

"Well, well, well. What have we here? Students out of bed after midnight?" a voice resounded from the door.

Whoops. Oleandra had forgotten Filch was coming. 

"It's alright, he hasn't seen our faces yet!" Oleandra whispered to the group. "When you hear me cast my spell, close your eyes, then run for it!"

Filch was coming, and the trophy cases weren't going to hide them forever! But luckily, she had been practising for a situation like this.

Oleandra took a deep breath. She hadn't planned on revealing her star magic so soon, but she didn't have the luxury of taking the time to fish the right runic parchments out of her pouch. She would have to shout the runes' names out loud to enhance their effects!

"Kenaz!" she began, drawing the runes in midair in green sparks with her wand. "You are the torch that guides the way! Sowelo! I beseech my wand to shine with the brightness of the sun! LUMOS MAXIMA!"

Even though everyone's eyes were closed, everything went white for a moment. Even Dumbledore, who was hanging around invisible, stalking Harry as usual, was momentarily rendered blind.

"My eyes!" screeched Filch, rolling around on the ground, holding his face in pain.

"Nox!" she whispered.

"RUN FOR IT!" Potter exclaimed.