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79.39% Harry Potter and the Sorceress of the Stars / Chapter 343: Eternity and Death

Capítulo 343: Eternity and Death

Oleandra's eyes fluttered open, and she took in her surroundings: the stars twinkled brightly in the dark sky above her, while the stars' reflections in the lake beneath her feet mirrored the heavens above. It had been a while since she'd properly visited her inner world; without Viviane to pull her in, attempting to do so required hours of meditation that she simply did not have.

Strangely enough, she could still feel a connection to the world outside. The sun on her face, the long grass tickling her shins, the slight exhaustion in her limbs… her body outside was still standing. Oleandra frowned; if Viviane was gone, and if she was here, then who was controlling her body? Spells that magically induced slumber didn't work on Fae Folk— but that was assuming that there was a Shadow in their inner world, ready to take over temporarily…

"It's a double knockout! What are the odds, folks?"

Oleandra recognized Fred's voice, though it sounded fuzzy and distorted, as if her ears were filled with water.

 All of a sudden, the starlight in her inner world dimmed, plunging her in total darkness. She felt her arm moving by itself, her lips twisting into a rictus of infinite malice, and…

"Av—" her mouth began forming words by itself.

Inside her inner world, Oleandra wordlessly screamed, and the scenery in her inner world shattered like broken glass, revealing the real world beyond the veil of dreams.

"—is!"

A flock of birds emerged from Oleandra's wand and flew away. She had managed to regain control of her own body and change the spell before she committed an irreparable mistake.

"Agh…"

Oleandra's face twisted in pain and she held a hand to her chest; her scar had briefly flared up. What the Hel had that just been?

"Oleandra, are you okay?" Tracey asked worriedly.

"I… I don't know," Oleandra stammered.

Meanwhile, the Weasley brothers were handing the gamblers their winnings, sighing as the money slipped through their fingers. Nobody had put a bet on a double knockout, so if Oleandra hadn't woken up, they could have kept all of the money in the pot!

"Rennervate," said Hermione, tapping Harry's forehead with her wand.

He'd been knocked unconscious by Oleandra's burst stream of water, but since he'd landed backwards into the tall grass, his fall hadn't injured him. He merely had a case of bruised ego, since he hadn't even managed to beat an opponent who'd been holding back.

"Thanks, 'Mione," he mumbled.

Despite everything he had undergone, Harry had never once harboured the intention of growing stronger. He was a rather unambitious boy; as long as he had his loved ones, all was well in the world for him. He had somewhat of an inferiority complex: he felt like there was no way he could ever catch up to true geniuses like Dumbledore or Hermione. As long as people smarter than him were around, he had a feeling that everything would be fine.

However, without noticing, Harry had gradually grown into a rather skilled duellist after being forced to compete in the Triwizard Tournament. He was leagues ahead of all of his peers, but only if magical combat or Defence Against the Dark Arts was concerned.

All of his peers, that is, but one: Oleandra.

When he'd first met her, she'd been totally ordinary, just like him. She hadn't been a genius like Hermione, Daphne or Mafalda, who were able to instantly understand any piece of magic or perform any spell, even if they had only just learned about it.

Time and time again, Harry's and Oleandra's paths had crossed, but each time they'd met, Oleandra would have grown stronger. By their third year together at Hogwarts, she'd already proved herself fully capable of duelling against trained adults. By their fourth year, she had even felled a Dragon all by herself.

Harry couldn't excuse her progress as being the work of genius; from his point of view, she'd been just like him; maybe even worse. No, in his opinion, she clearly worked very hard. And if she could do it, then why couldn't he? What was his excuse?

His father had created the Marauder's Map and become an Animagus, and his mother… well, he wasn't quite sure if she'd done anything noteworthy, but he was certain that she must have been a skilled Witch.

Having the Dursleys raise him as a future good-for-nothing had unconsciously lowered his sense of self-worth, but for the first time in his life, Harry was motivated to surpass the limits he'd unintentionally set for himself. His parents had been good enough to be Head Boy and Girl, so as their son, why couldn't he become truly strong, within and without?

It turned out that all he'd really needed to motivate him from the very beginning was a proper rival…

================================================================

After the duel, the crowd of prospective members rapidly dispersed, but before everyone left, Hermione made them all sign their names on a piece of parchment. In Oleandra's eyes, it was very clearly Jinxed, but she had no idea what enchantment Hermione had imbued the parchment with.

In the end, as one of the founding members of this study group, she couldn't escape having to sign the document, though she fully intended on subjecting herself to all the Purification spells that Viviane had taught her afterwards, just in case.

Names are very powerful things; Daphne had told her that when she'd learned about the Magic of Names in Arithmancy.

"So, where are we going next? We've got a whole day ahead of us!" Astoria asked happily. "And where's Daphne, by the by?"

As a Gryffindor, Astoria didn't often have the chance to see her Slytherin sisters, so she was thrilled to have the opportunity to spend the day with them. As for Tracey, she was less than thrilled to have a third wheel on her special day alone with Oleandra, but since Astoria was a sweet girl, she quickly forgave her.

"We're fighting," Oleandra explained. "She doesn't want us to join a group that teaches its members how to fight against Voldemort, since our parents are being held hostage by said Dark Lord. I'm guessing you haven't told her, either?"

Astoria shook her head sheepishly.

"I'll talk to her with you," she said coyly. "She can't stay mad at you forever; I'm sure she'll understand that we felt like we needed to do something."

Since Daphne had become immortal, she had become extremely conscious of the fact that she would outlive her beloved family, which was why she'd always been the most eager out of all of them to cure Astoria. Now that Astoria had been cured of her Blood Malediction, Daphne wanted the rest of her family to stay safe, and live long and safe lives.

Despite being the furthest person from it, Daphne lived in death; it had all but seized her entire being. As an immortal, she stood to have potentially infinitely more to lose than mortals, and that prospect terrified her; the fear of death and the fear of being left all alone had wormed its way into Daphne's heart and had infected her mind.


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