Chương 348: You're Fired!
Having finished breakfast, the three girls got up from their seats at the Slytherin table, ready to start their first classes for the day. But just as they were about to leave the Great Hall, Tracey abruptly stopped dead in her tracks.
"Say," Tracey blurted out. "You don't suppose Umbridge includes Quidditch teams in that decree of hers, do you?"
"She does, actually," came Pansy Parkinson's snobbish voice from behind them. "Draco's just gone to Professor Umbridge to submit the team's application to reform, but if I were you, I wouldn't get my hopes up about rejoining the team…"
Oleandra and Tracey looked at each other nervously. If Umbridge knew about Hermione's Defence Against the Dark Arts club, then there was a good chance that she'd also know about its participants… namely the two of them.
Draco was making a beeline for them from the staff's table at the end of the Great Hall, so Oleandra supposed that they were about to find out. Umbridge wasn't likely to grant Oleandra and Tracey any favours if she thought that they were pitting themselves against her…
Draco approached them with a nasty grin, which already didn't bode well.
"Greengrass, Davis, you two are off the team," he said nonchalantly. "So sorry— I might have forgotten to put your names on the application..."
Oleandra didn't care that much about being on the team, but Tracey did. And if she didn't get mad on her behalf, what kind of friend would she be?
"You had no right," Oleandra hissed. "Montague's team captain, not you, Malfoy!"
"Montague was team captain, but unfortunately, Professor Umbridge disbanded the team," Malfoy said with a contrite tone; albeit the most insincere one Oleandra had ever heard. "I took the initiative to reform the team, so I suppose I'm team captain now. And since I'm the captain, I get to decide who's on the team with me— and guess what? You two aren't on my list…"
Crabbe and Goyle rose to their full height behind Malfoy and Parkinson, laughing dumbly and cracking their knuckles.
"Those two couldn't hit a Bludger if it was the size of the moon," Tracey said coolly. "We could have had the Cup, but you just had to let your ego ruin everything."
"I suppose we'll see, won't we?" said Malfoy just as coolly.
Oleandra looked over Crabbe's shoulder and clicked her tongue. Umbridge was still watching from the staff's table, so she'd have to wait a little longer to get back at them. Perhaps Ferret Malfoy would be making a return in the near future…
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Oleandra was, once again, bunking, skiving and skipping History of Magic lessons. She couldn't care less if she got a 'T' in that particular O.W.L.; she wouldn't be taking the class in her sixth year, so a failing grade in that subject wouldn't make her repeat a year.
Even so, it did look bad for a prefect to be skipping classes, as it sent the wrong kind of message…
Nevertheless, Oleandra preferred using her time more productively; learning about all the ways Goblins liked to foment rebellions was all well and good, but it wouldn't help save her life. Unless, of course, some history-loving madman somehow managed to force her to participate in a death game-cum-quiz show, but Oleandra was willing to take that kind of risk.
And so, she selected an empty classroom and began working on the gigantic scroll of talisman paper she had bought at Dervish & Banges. Her goal was to create an insigil that replaced the Grapheme Elhaz within the Galdr of the Full Armour of Elhaz with the magical stave Ægishjálmur.
At first, the mere prospect of creating a new spell that incorporated Dark magic had daunted her, since such evil magic was a double-edged sword. Fear was infectious, after all.
However, she had very recently had an epiphany: Ægishjálmur could either be invoked as the Helm of Terror, or as the Helm of Awe. Both protected, but only one caused mind-bending fear. As for why such a flash of inspiration had hit her out of nowhere, she had some ideas, but no definite proof.
The nature of her magic was reciprocal, and as the rune engraver's poem went…
Better not to ask than to sacrifice too much
For a gift is always rewarded
And a boon always demands a return
Better not to offer than have to slay too many.
…Oleandra was ritually bound to those who had engraved the runes of the stars upon their souls through the rune of gifts, Gebu. She granted them knowledge, and in return, they gave back comprehension. At the time, it had been a mutually beneficial arrangement, but not all gifts are well intentioned…
After all, in many Germanic languages, including Norse, the word gift holds the meaning poison. Draco certainly hadn't seen it positively when Oleandra had unwittingly stolen from him the insigil of Lindorm, his constellation of Draco spell.
Could it be that one of the others had also comprehended Ægishjálmur?
Oleandra shook her head. As far as she knew, this particular stave only manifested itself when a user of runes was subjected to absolute terror. There was no way anyone could suffer such fear at Hogwarts, so it must have been her own genius at work when she had realized that there was a nuance between the Helm of Terror and the Helm of Awe!
…Probably.
Oleandra dipped her quill into her inkpot for a refill, but as she moved her arm back over her masterpiece, a large droplet of ink dripped from her quill onto the intricate stave she'd been drawing with a sickening splat. There was no undoing the damage with this kind of ink and this kind of paper, so she'd have to start all over again.
Damn it all to Hel, this stuff was expensive!
"Oh, bother," Oleandra muttered to herself in frustration. "Now I've got to start all over again. I need a ballpoint pen, this is ridiculous…"
For the first time in her life, Oleandra was having trouble drawing runes. Staves weren't included in the inheritance of the stars, so she'd actually have to practise on some cheap paper first, if she wanted to learn how to draw Ægishjálmur perfectly one hundred percent of the time. That is, without spending a fortune on talisman-grade paper.
Oleandra sighed. The ordinary version of the Galdr of the Full Armour of Elhaz was easy enough to draw; even if one or two of the six Elhaz drawn were crooked or smudged, the magic would still work, albeit at reduced efficiency. The Helm of Awe, however, was a Lokk; it required perfection.
And what's more, there were six of them to draw for her Galdr: above and below, left and right, front and back…
The bell rang; Oleandra didn't have nearly enough guts to skip Professor Snape's class, so she quickly packed her things and headed for class.
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