บท 417: The Magic of the Lake and the Magic of the Stars

The blood in Oleandra's veins seemed to turn to ice, as Voldemort's inhuman gaze slowly swept over her. And yet, Voldemort's red eyes did not tarry overlong on her, as they quickly skipped over Astoria's and Tracey's shivering bodies before moving on to her twin sister.

Lord Voldemort did not appear particularly angry or concerned about Harry's disappearance at the hands of the mysterious curly-haired masked man, nor did he seem worried about the fact that Harry had taken the so-called 'weapon' that he had been seeking all of this time with him. Rather, he seemed more intrigued by the short green-haired girl standing at Oleandra's side.

"We meet at last," said Voldemort softly. "Daphne Greengrass. The so-called Dark Lady of prophecy."

In Daphne, Voldemort saw glimpses of a younger version of himself, a sort of kindred spirit. She was a Pure-Blooded Witch who had retraced his steps by recreating the long-lost Bloodline Atavism Potion; elevating herself above the masses and attaining immortality of the body, just like he had. Furthermore, she was outwardly cold and aloof, and she was an excellent student, just like he had been when he had attended Hogwarts.

"I have nothing to do with that prophecy," said Daphne coldly. "And I want nothing to do with you."

However, that was where the similarities ended. Daphne had a loving heart which cherished her family and the few friends she had, which was something that Voldemort could never understand. Furthermore, Daphne had a tendency to pass under the radar compared to her more outgoing twin sister— Daphne was more of a follower than a leader, even if she had her own ideas about some things.

However, that suited Voldemort just fine.

As the proverb goes, one mountain cannot accommodate two tigers— unless one is male and the other female. One Dark Lord and one Dark Lady, the second subservient to the first— a companion in Voldemort's quest for eternity.

For if there was one thing that Lord Voldemort valued just as much as Dumbledore, it was loyalty.

He had never longed for companionship of any kind, be it friendship or love. Neither had he ever wanted to be understood or to be recognized, for he considered himself to have no equal. After all, why should the admiration of mere ants matter to him?

The only thing he required of others was their total obeisance— and fear did the trick quite nicely.

"You can't have my sister," said Oleandra loudly, finally gathering the courage to speak up.

"Ah, yes," said Voldemort quietly, turning his attention to her. "The sister. You have been quite the thorn in my side, just as long as Potter has, and you have given my Death Eaters quite the run round— Lucius believes you to be the true object of the prophecy, but he is quite wrong."

So far, Voldemort had a proven track record of correctly identifying the objects of prophecies. He had correctly picked Harry Potter over Neville Longbottom, after all!

Although, who knew what would have happened, had he chosen to visit the Longbottom home first, all those years ago…

"Out of respect for your sister, I shall give you a single opportunity to make the correct choice," said Voldemort coldly. "Leave my sight and never return before me, and I shall spare your life— and let it never be said that Lord Voldemort is not magnanimous."

This was it— the logical choice by any metric would be to walk away and leave the British Isles, never to return. Voldemort had an army, and he was immortal. Even if Dumbledore could overpower him, he could not outlive him nor outnumber him. He was quite literally unstoppable.

And yet…

"No," said Oleandra quite clearly.

"If you kill my sisters," said Daphne quickly, "you'll never have my loyalty."

Here, they were at their weakest— the light of the magic of the stars did not reach this far underground. Even at four against one, they did not stand a single chance of winning, even with their special bloodline powers.

To choose this place as their battleground would be the height of folly. It would have been much wiser to say anything but a hard 'no,' even if it had only been to buy time— but Oleandra would not, could not allow her sister to fall in with Voldemort's crowd, because the future that she envisioned would then truly never come to pass.

Voldemort lifted his wand, and the four girls tensed up.

"In that case, I shall have to work my way through your family until I have it," said Voldemort coldly. "AVADA KEDAVRA!"

Few could have reacted to the speed at which the strongest Dark Wizard summoned his magic and performed the Killing Curse. Even though Oleandra had watched the magic coursing through his body with her Mystic Eyes, she had still been half a second too slow on the uptake to avoid instant death.

There was one person present, however, whose reflexes were fast enough.

Astoria leapt in front of Oleandra; sword flashing, runes pulsing with power. The bolt of green energy glanced off the Sword of the Lake, rebounding straight towards Voldemort. He effortlessly dodged his own spell, as if he had expected this to happen all along.

"Hold him off, Astoria!" Oleandra shouted, snapping out of her trance. "Buy me some time!"

"Are you mad!?" cried Daphne. "That's You-Know-Who! She'll die!"

Oleandra closed her eyes, reaching out with her mind to the Fountain of Magical Brethren, feeling the water coursing within it; retracing it to the river Thames, following each of its tributaries to the streams, aquifers and lakes from which it found its source.

"How am I supposed to deflect that!?" Astoria screamed.

Wary of having his Killing Curse bounced back at him once again, Voldemort had opted for a more complex spell, by conjuring a tornado of flames.

Oleandra reopened her eyes, her irises turning golden.

"The sword cuts through magic itself!" shouted Oleandra. "I just need a little more time!"

Astoria let out a war cry, before slashing through the flaming tornado, somehow cutting in half something that lacked a set, solid form.

"Wherever the sky kisses the land, the light of the stars shall shine down upon the earth," Oleandra muttered to herself. "And wherever earth is to be found, there shall be at least one lake that reflects the starry night sky."

Daphne and Tracey finally joined in on the fight, slinging Jinxes at Voldemort, which he effortlessly parried. If Astoria failed to stop a single one of their opponent's Curses, everything would be over…

"Sowelo Above, Laukaz Below, Ansuz in my Right Hand, Uruz in my Left Hand, Kenaz in Front, Odala Behind… and Mannaz in the centre," said Oleandra, her whisper gradually growing into a shout. "Stars Above, Grant me Infinite Strength… Aquamirror that Epitomizes the Stars!"