Oleandra tossed and turned in her bed, unable to fall asleep.
Her body on the other side of time had already been taken by the Druid's men, so for all she knew, there was a very real chance she might never wake again once she fell asleep. That being the case, there wasn't much she could do except wait for sleep to come, and hope the Druid intended to question her before carrying out her execution.
Eventually, when green beams of sunlight finally filtered through the Black Lake's dark waters to her room, Oleandra forced herself to down a Sleeping Draught, surrendering to a deep, dreamless sleep.
Whatever lay ahead, she would need to face it in the best condition possible…
…
The first surprise that awaited Oleandra upon her awakening was the fact that she had even woken up at all— meaning that she yet lived. But the second surprise came in the shape of a rather familiar ceiling…
"What the Hel is going on?" whispered Oleandra.
Above her head was the stone ceiling of her room in the Slytherin common room, the very same one she had drifted off to sleep staring at the night before. Were the time slips over? The timing seemed rather convenient…
Oleandra's mind raced to come up with plausible explanations.
Had the magic of the Sands of Time she had accidentally ingested finally worn off? Was she being kept in a coma on the other side, and as a result been kicked back to the present automatically? Or was this simply a case of mind over magic?
"I desperately didn't want to go back…" Oleandra mumbled to herself, "…so I didn't go back?"
From the very moment she'd managed to rout Voldemort with the help of her friends and family, she'd faced expectations like none she'd ever felt before. Harry was recognised as the Chosen One, that was true— but she had actually beaten Voldemort in a tangible way, and there wasn't a soul in the magic world of Britain that didn't know it.
When The Daily Prophet reported that she had routed Voldemort a second time, the weight of the expectations had become almost crushing. Things only got worse when she returned to Hogwarts— once at school, there was no way for her to run away from people's expectations… and her fellow Slytherins' fear and hatred of her.
But despite the dirty looks they shot at her, Oleandra's life clearly wasn't in mortal peril just yet— so far, the rune of distress Naudhiz hadn't rung a single time at Hogwarts this school year, but all the same, Oleandra couldn't help but feel a constant sense of impending doom.
At the time of the explosion of Theo's experiment, Oleandra had desperately wished to be somewhere else entirely— it mattered not where, as long as it was far away from the people she knew and the expectations they bore towards her.
As a result, the Sands of Time had ended up bringing her before Wanderer.
Whatever magical rules lay behind the time slip that had brought her to that exact moment, just in time for Wanderer to save her— whether by sheer coincidence, a result of time magic intersecting with the magic of runes, or even destiny itself— Wanderer's quest and his unwavering sense of purpose had given Oleandra something to hold on to; a reprieve from the heavy weight of expectations.
At some point, she'd even started looking forward to going to sleep, knowing that on the other side, adventure and exploration would await. Travelling with Wanderer had truly been fun, but the moment things had taken a turn for the worse…
Oleandra shook her head in shame.
Without her intervention, Wanderer would likely never have been captured by his pursuers, and now, she had abandoned him to his fate. One day, when she was ready, she would return to his rescue— this, she swore.
She could feel within herself that the link to the past still existed— something nearby was anchoring her to 1996, while something else was anchoring her to 1000-ish BCE— and until one of the anchors was destroyed, she would likely keep time slipping forever.
Oleandra's stomach growled.
Glancing around, she found the room to be empty— Millicent and Pansy had likely already left for breakfast without waking her up. Taking advantage of there being no prying eyes around, Oleandra crawled under her bed, shoved aside the gnarled stick in her way and retrieved the shoebox that contained the Lethifold egg.
According to Professor Hagrid, the egg would require nothing but a dark and damp environment in order to hatch successfully. The dark-coloured egg was smooth and cool to the touch, but its contents were clearly still alive, as it would occasionally rock back and forth.
Oleandra's original Wanderer rescue plan had been to fly above the hillfort's defences— up and over the Druid's surveillance net. He had enchanted every blade of grass around the castle and made an army of small animals into his familiars to report on the goings-on around his home, so there was no way for her to approach undetected.
Unfortunately, she had been caught on one of her excursions to test the Druid's range, so her new plan was to tame her newest Lethifold. In order to cross over into the past, Oleandra would necessarily have to fall unconscious, rendering her helpless— but a Lethifold attached to her would still be able to defend her automatically while she slept!
However, acquiring a Lethifold companion was easier said than done. To tame her hatchling, she would either need to track down the disguised Dusk Elf and extract her knowledge, or return to Nidavellir in search of more Svartalfheim spies hidden within the Dwarfs' city. The problem, however, was that the Midgard Gateway was likely now under close watch, now that the Dusk Elves knew it had been reactivated.
It was time to tie up loose ends— though Oleandra had already said as much at the start of the school year. The real question was: how exactly could she draw the Dusk Elf out of hiding? The Elf clearly had a way to track her— she'd proven that by rudely interrupting Oleandra's rescue of Amelia Bones. If she could do it, then surely Oleandra could find a way to do the same...
"We share the same blood," said Oleandra thoughtfully. "Hmm… a Tracking spell, maybe?"
In Oleandra's breast beat the Dusk-Elf's heart, but that hadn't killed her. Somehow, she had half stolen it, so they were sharing the organ, which was thankfully powerful enough to pump blood for both of their bodies.
This meant that if Oleandra drank a potion, the effects would be divided between them. If she was poisoned, the Dusk Elf would also receive the same debuff… perhaps capturing her would be easier than she'd previously thought.
After all, Oleandra had friends, but the Dusk Elf was all alone in this foreign land!