Chapter 169: Prison Break
"Welcome to the highest point in your life, Oleandra," said Fred. "Trapped in a tiny cell with the infamous Weasley twins. Thank goodness for our new friend, Mundungus Fletcher."
"Cram a sock in it, will ya?" said the other man who was in the cell neighbouring theirs. "Do you gits ever effin' shut up?"
"So, what are you in for this time, Fletch?" said George. "Or would you prefer I call you Dungus?"
"I prefer neither, ya dickheads," growled Mundungus, before adding, "Allegedly, I was reselling stolen tickets. Allegedly!"
"All lies and slander, I'm sure!" said Fred in a jolly tone. "Your tickets were probably fake, not stolen!"
Oleandra desperately resisted the urge to roll her eyes. It had been hours since she'd been thrown into this makeshift prison underneath the stadium and forced to listen to the twins' inane rambling. She had been able to just barely make out the sounds coming up from the Quidditch game above, just tantalizing out of reach, but it had been quiet overhead for a while now.
In an act of dereliction of duty, all of the guards had left to watch the game, leaving the prisoners (mostly comprised of drunkards and petty thieves) alone. But at least, the security Wizards had the good sense of not putting a delicate lady in a cell with some random drunks.
"Finally!" said Oleandra, upon seeing someone enter the room. "I was beginning to think we'd been abandoned here! Could we at least know what the score is?"
"Miss Greengrass, is that right?" said the man who had entered the room. Oleandra recognized him as Mr. Crouch, Winky's owner. "I'm told you claim my Elf was at fault for your little stunt. I'd like a word."
"Ah!" exclaimed Oleandra in a sarcastic tone. "Since you're not in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement any longer, can I assume you're here to apologize for your Elf's behaviour and get me out of here?"
"You mean us," corrected Fred and George simultaneously.
"What were you doing near Winky at the time of the incident?" asked Crouch abruptly, looking straight into Oleandra's eyes. To her surprise, the supposedly hard-boiled Crouch couldn't maintain eye contact for very long, wincing and turning his head away after a while.
"The incident?" harrumphed Oleandra. "Is that what you're calling it? If it had been anyone else, they'd have fallen to their deaths. How about you teach your bloody Elf about restraint?"
"Do not make me ask again!" said Crouch sharply. "Why did Winky feel the need to attack you?"
"That's a question you might want to ask your Elf," said Oleandra, meeting his gaze head on. "But if you must know, I was picking up the gold pieces the Leprechauns were throwing around."
She'd had some time to think of an excuse for what she'd been doing near Mr. Crouch's seat in the many hours she'd been incarcerated. And now that she thought about it, hadn't both Professor Dumbledore and Professor Snape also reacted by wincing in pain after looking into her eyes after asking her a question?
"Something wrong?" asked Oleandra suspiciously, as she watched Crouch hold a hand to his face, groaning in pain. Could her Mystic Eyes shoot invisible laser beams, or what?
"Why would a rich young lady of the distinguished Greengrass family scramble around on the ground for gold?" said Crouch with some difficulty. "You're lying!"
"So what if I like money?" taunted Oleandra. "And why shouldn't I be allowed to walk near your seat? Something I shouldn't have seen, maybe?"
"Why, you little brat!" roared Crouch, pulling out his wand.
"Whoa there!" shouted Fred, moving in front of Oleandra. "Surely you're not going to attack a defenceless Witch who's already trapped in a cell?"
"In front of all of us witnesses!" added George.
"I'll sue for emotional distress if you splatter the girl's brains all over the walls!" added Mundungus Fletcher.
Luckily for everyone present, just before anyone did anything they might regret, Percy Weasley Apparated at Crouch's side, whispering something in his ear, though Oleandra could just barely make out a few words.
"…Trouble… Upside-down… Death Eaters… Panic…"
Oh. That sounded rather bad, didn't it?
"What's the score, Weatherby?" asked Fred. "Actually, is the game still going on? Who won? You can tell us, we're your brothers."
Crouch Disapparated instantly the moment Percy finished talking.
"Shame on you," said Percy angrily. "Getting this poor girl involved in your pranks. Wait until Mother hears about this!"
Having said his piece, he Disapparated with a loud pop. Fred and George suddenly cringed, their sunny expressions instantly disappearing from their face.
"Thanks for reminding us, Weatherby," said Fred glumly. "I hadn't thought about that."
"I had," added George, "but I was trying very hard not to think about it."
"We need to get out of here," said Oleandra all of a sudden. "They were talking about Death Eaters causing a riot, or something."
"I thought I had heard something like that," said Fred thoughtfully. "But how are we supposed to get out? They took our wands."
"Not to mention all of our Wizard Wheezes!" added George.
"That's not an issue," said Oleandra with a sly grin. "I've got a bit of chalk hidden in my sock."
"…"
"I'm afraid you've lost us," said Fred and George.
Oleandra didn't need a wand in order to use her magic; as long as she had her limbs or her hands free, she could cast any runic spell of her choosing with sufficient potency if she used the correct hand sign or stance. However, runes always worked best when written down; especially when used for continuing effects.
And the Starshower Club's members had discovered that for some reason, runic magic worked better when fellow members were around; even if they were just standing around doing nothing, even if they weren't actively mirroring the magic being cast. Since neither Daphne, Tracey or Draco were around, Oleandra couldn't be bothered to hold the stance for the duration of the spell.
"I don't hear anything from above us any longer," said Fred, frowning. "You should probably hurry up."
Oleandra retrieved the piece of chalk from her sock and dropped to the concrete floor, drawing three runes: ᚹ, ᚷ, ᚱ.
"Wunjo, Gebu, Raidhu," Oleandra chanted, pressing her palms on the cold ground. "The Standard which brings Harmony, the Gift and the Way of Transformations. Grant the metal bars of this cell the properties of… er— sturgeon."
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