Oleandra pointed her wand at Tracey's unconscious body and uttered, "Rennervate." The young woman's eyes fluttered open, and she sat up, looking at her surroundings to get her bearings. The inn room was absolutely ruined; upended furniture everywhere, scorch marks dotting the walls, a gaping hole where the door ought to be… Oleandra, Astoria and Theo were still there, but there was no Harry Potter, or any of his friends for that matter, in sight.
"Just sit tight, all of you," Oleandra sighed. "I'm going after Harry and the others— they're going to get themselves killed, at this rate."
Oleandra's words were immediately met with a storm of protests.
"I'm coming with you," Tracey grunted, as she staggered to her feet. "This is all my fault— I'm the one who brought Harry's friends here and ruined everything."
When Tracey had received Oleandra's psychic message, she had been in the middle of running away from the Inquisitorial Squad with Astoria, Ron, Hermione, Neville and Luna. Oleandra had only asked her to come and help her at the Three Broomsticks Inn, so Tracey hadn't seen the harm in bringing along the others to see their friend…
"You're not going alone," said Astoria defiantly.
Oleandra shook her head.
"I promised Daphne that I would keep you safe," said Oleandra sternly. "And Tracey, you were the first to get hit by a Stunner, just now— I'm sorry, but you really aren't suited for this sort of thing— even Neville lasted longer than you…"
Neville, who was lying at Theo's feet behind Oleandra's bed, snored loudly in his sleep, as if to drive home Oleandra's point.
"Daphne's my sister too!" said Astoria furiously, baring her pointed canines. "I can fight— I'm older than you were when you fought You-Know-Who and the Basilisk! We're coming, whether you like it or not!"
Oleandra could feel a headache coming on; she was wasting time arguing with them, but if she didn't put a stop to this madness now, then they'd follow her through the fireplace to the Ministry of Magic, the moment her back was turned…
"I'll help keep an eye on them," offered Theodore, completely out of the blue. "I'm a decent enough duellist, but I'm sure you knew that already."
"What's in it for you?" said Oleandra suspiciously.
Oleandra appreciated Theo as a person and as an Alchemist, but he was still a Nott. Furthermore, Harry had named his father as a Death Eater, and seeing as they were likely to run into a bunch of them, Oleandra was very much not keen on bringing along somebody who might very well shoot her in the back.
"Potter and his followers have gone to the Department of Mysteries, right?" said Theo dismissively. "Rookwood's an old mate of my father's, and he once told me that's where they keep Time-Turners. I've been dying to experiment on one of those, so I was thinking that this would be the perfect opportunity to nick one… or two."
Oleandra's eyes glinted; Theo was telling the truth, but he wasn't telling the whole truth… He was still holding something back.
"And…?" Oleandra said warily.
"And, er…" said Theo, blushing slightly. "If they're really keeping Daphne hostage— I mean, it would be a terrible loss for the academic world, if something unfortunate were to happen to her…"
To Oleandra's surprise, he was actually telling the truth. Was he interested in her older sister…? Despite her looking even younger than her actual younger sister!?
"Well," said Oleandra hesitantly, chewing her lip, before finally caving in a few seconds later. "Oh, fine. You can all come— but first, let me just fetch something from my luggage…"
Oleandra walked over to her suitcase and began rummaging around until she found what she'd been looking for: the Sword of the Lake, buried under a pile of clean underwear. She had personally engraved upon it the same runes that she had found on Fragarach, the Retaliating Blade— thereby adding a new power to the sword which Lancelot himself had once held!
"Here, Astoria, this ought to protect you," said Oleandra, retrieving the sword from its hiding place and unsheathing it partly, to showcase the runes engraved on its blade. "Just run your forefinger and your middle finger along the length of the blade and recite the runes' names, and the sword will automatically parry any attack coming your way; it's Ingwaz, Elhaz, Dagaz and Gebu. Got it?"
Despite having trained long and hard to be able to wield it, Oleandra believed that the Sword of the Lake would prove much more useful in Astoria's hands than in hers. Thirteen-year-old Astoria was stronger and much faster than most adult men, but her aim with a wand definitely needed improving, so a melee weapon was actually the perfect weapon for her.
And if they were indeed running to their deaths, then at least Astoria would have a chance to make it out alive, as long as she held on to the Retaliating Sword…
"It's so beautiful," Astoria whispered in awe, as she beheld the gleaming Sword of the Lake, its pommel encrusted with a large sapphire and several aquamarines. "May I?"
Astoria reached for the naked blade, as if to stroke the engraved runes, but the instant that her skin made contact with the cool metal, a lightning bolt of flickering images and of indistinct voices shattered the silent darkness of her mindscape.
Gone was the room in the Three Broomsticks Inn, and Tracey and Theodore; Astoria had somehow been transported without her knowledge to the edge of a lake, deep within an ancient forest.
Sunlight poured in through the gap in the dense canopy of leaves above; golden beams of light that pierced the darkness of the woods and that reflected softly in the shimmering azure waters of the lake; granting this sanctuary in the middle of the forest an ethereal, almost sacred, feel…
Standing knee-deep in the lake among the bulrushes was her older sister Oleandra, dressed in a raiment of light-blue, almost transparent fabric. She was still holding out the glowing sword in front of her, but Astoria could not see her sister's face clearly, bathed in shadows as it was. She could just barely make out a vague smile on Oleandra's lips, but there was something alien about her luminous eyes…
"The pact is sealed…" a woman's melancholic voice whispered in Astoria's ear, much like the gentle rustle of waves crashing on a beach. "May fate be kinder to you than it was to your predecessor, O Knight of the Lake…"
Astoria abruptly came back to her senses with a start, finding that she was now holding the sword in her own two hands, and that she was kneeling on one knee.
"There's really no need to kneel, Astoria," said Oleandra awkwardly. "I'm not knighting you— I'm just lending you my sword…"
"Right," said Astoria slowly as she got to her feet.
Astoria wondered what in the world had just happened to her— had she imagined all of that? The others hadn't seemed to have noticed anything out of the ordinary, but her sister…