"How proficient am I? You should know that better than anyone, Sir," said Oleandra pointedly. "But what does Occlumency have to do with anything?"
For the first time since she had come up to his office, Professor Dumbledore met her gaze. There was a slight smile on his thin lips. Just how many students' minds had the old man read, anyway? Was he completely devoid of shame?
"I do possess something that you might be interested in, should you wish to practise with that sword of yours," said Dumbledore. "But I do believe that a word of caution is in order; we are first and foremost Wizards, Miss Greengrass. Magic offers us a certain luxury that Muggles cannot afford; with our magic, we are able to subdue foes just as easily as we could kill them."
Dumbledore's words rang true.
In fact, it was actually easier to incapacitate than it was to kill for most Wizards. In order to use it properly, the Killing Curse requires one to muster an enormous volume of killing intent. By comparison, it's much more efficient to knock someone out with a Stunner, since incapacitating doesn't require one to contemplate the value of human life.
(Note that this only applies to those who have a conscience to begin with; notions such as morals or being able to sleep comfortably at night do not apply to the likes of Voldemort, the man who sees others' lives as being insignificant.)
"There is no reason to kill if one can incapacitate," Dumbledore continued. "But a sword has but one function; to stab and to cut, in order to kill one's foes."
"That's wrong," Oleandra immediately countered. "A sword can parry and block; it can be a tool to protect. I understand that Godric Gryffindor lived in much more… tumultuous times, but Voldemort's back. I don't want to regret any deaths that I could have prevented, if only I'd had the tools to save lives."
Dumbledore paused.
"Very well, then," said Professor Dumbledore. "If you truly are determined to follow through on your path, and if you'll promise that you will never turn your blade on a fellow student…"
"I promise," said Oleandra, "that I won't use the sword on anyone's who's currently a student while I attend Hogwarts."
Seemingly satisfied with Oleandra's promise, Professor Dumbledore walked over to the tall shelf upon which the Sorting Hat sat, stood on the tip of his toes to grab it from the topmost row, before returning to Oleandra, hat in hand.
"Before I lend this to you," he said, "know that it is not for free. I may require a favour from you in the coming year." And upon seeing Oleandra's guarded expression, he added, "nothing too difficult. I may ask you to tutor a student, that is all."
"Okay then," said Oleandra in relief, "I think I can manage that."
Oleandra took the Sorting Hat from Dumbledore's hands and observed it. The folds that made up its eyes were looking up at her; or maybe it was its nostrils. Could it smell her? The Hat certainly needed a wash, that was for sure. And she was definitely checking it for lice before putting it anywhere near her hair.
"So... how do I use it?" said Oleandra, peering into the hat's head hole.
No Sword of Gryffindor in there.
"You put it on your head," said Professor Dumbledore with a faint look of amusement on his face. "It's a hat, you see."
"That's not what I meant," said Oleandra in annoyance. "I mean, do I have to ask it for fencing lessons, or is it just going to keep trying to Sort me until I give it a password, or…"
"Just ask it politely," said Dumbledore, as he checked his pocket watch. "Now, it is getting late. I believe you have some patrolling to do tonight, and I'm sure you've plenty to do before going to bed..."
"Oh, yes, of course," said Oleandra, who was now remembering the mountain of homework that the teachers had dumped on her today. "Thank you for lending me the Sorting Hat, I'll take good care of it, er… goodbye."
"Good night, Miss Greengrass."
Professor Dumbledore mournfully looked on as Oleandra took the spiral staircase down to the seventh floor. Though with her back turned, she would not be able to see the look of infinite sadness on his face…
================================================================
As Oleandra walked down the steps of the Grand Staircase to the Great Hall for dinner, she suddenly realized that she held a unique opportunity in her hands. It wasn't every day that one got to be Sorted, after all. After some hesitation (and checking it for an infestation), Oleandra placed the Sorting Hat on her head and waited.
Silence.
"Hello, Mr. Sorting Hat?" said Oleandra tentatively, before she realized what had gone wrong. "Right, maybe the runes engraved in my soul are stopping it from interacting with my mind…"
"Maybe, were I an ordinary hat," the Sorting Hat grumbled. "But the four founders who created me were anything but ordinary. It may have taken me a while to worm my way in, but here I am."
This was a mistake, Oleandra suddenly realized. If it could read her mind, then it would know all her secrets, including the fact that she was actually a—
"A Greater Fairy," said the Hat matter-of-factly. "I've Sorted all sorts of half-humans in the past thousand years, but I've never Sorted one of your kind before. Ah, no need to tear me into shreds— I can't divulge a student's secrets— that's just how I was made."
Consequences be damned, Oleandra had been about to use the Severing Charm on the Sorting Hat until it was reduced to a thousand pieces of string— but its words soon reassured her that her secrets were still safe. The hat wasn't lying.
"I was wondering," said Oleandra hesitantly, as she lowered her wand. "If you were to Sort me again, today— which House would I end up in? Please, anything but Hufflepuff…"
The hat fell silent for a minute, before speaking up again.
"You have made many friends who cherish you since you first arrived here, so you no longer need Hufflepuff more than it needs you," the Hat began. "You crave knowledge for the sake of power, but you are completely uninterested in acquiring the kind that you are not proficient in. You wouldn't be a good fit for Ravenclaw."
It continued:
"You have bravery and daring worthy of Gryffindor himself, which you have proven beyond a shadow of a doubt through your actions. So far, you have only risked your life to help your friends and family, but you now plot behind their backs in order to make your ambitions a reality. Your blood is among the purest, but you seek the power to change things through cunning and force… yet you still believe it to be for the greater good."
"You may have changed for the better," the Hat concluded, "but you are still a Slytherin through and through."