"I…" said Oleandra hesitantly. "I'm not quite sure…"
Oleandra had only just returned to her rightful place in time, so she naturally had no idea how things could have turned out this way. She still could hardly come to terms with the fact that Dumbledore was dead.
Right. She needed to spin the story in her favour before anyone realised that she was the only one who had come down the tower from which Dumbledore had fallen to his death—
Rapid footsteps echoed down from the spiral staircase.
Professor Snape and Professor McGonagall raised their wands once again and pointed them at the threshold through which Oleandra had entered the seventh-floor corridor, as did the members of the Order of the Phoenix— Lupin and Tonks. Behind them stood former R.C. (temp) club members, including Astoria, Ginny and Neville, plus a young Sirius Black, all keeping a watchful eye over their prisoners.
Oleandra's eyes widened in shock as Harry's figure emerged from the darkness. Harry froze, suddenly finding himself held at wandpoint.
"Harry!" cried Ginny, starting towards him. "We were so worried!"
"Where's Malfoy!" Harry roared, shoving her aside. His eyes swam with hot tears as he scanned the corridor for signs of Malfoy, finding none. His gaze landed on Oleandra's figure. "YOU!"
Oleandra's mind raced as she searched for a way out of this predicament, but the words of the Dark Lady's prophecy kept echoing in her mind:
SHE IS ALREADY AMONGST US… ABOMINATION AGAINST NATURE, BEARING A WAND OF YEW… MADE MONSTER BY HER PEERS, THE CHOSEN ONE SHALL IN TURN CHOOSE HER AS HIS FINAL FOE.
From a pure-blooded human's point of view, Oleandra and Daphne were both abominations due to their being half inhuman, and they both bore wands of yew wood, just like Voldemort's. Furthermore, because of the prophecy, they had both been treated with fear and suspicion. And in the end, both had attempted to kill Dumbledore— though he had chosen to take his own life instead. But would Harry, the Chosen One, really see it that way?
Where had he come from? What had he seen!?
Oleandra's eyes landed on Neville, standing guard near the entrance to the Room of Requirement. Upon closer inspection, his face faintly resembled that of young Jowan— the gifted child she'd taught Herbology in the distant past— but that wasn't important now. What mattered was the trussed-up Death Eater at his feet: Theodore Nott.
"What happened up there, Harry?" asked Professor McGonagall urgently. "I saw the Dark Mark floating above the Astronomy Tower from the courtyard—"
"Her sister killed Dumbledore," said Harry, pointing at Oleandra. "Her and Malfoy."
Gasps caught in throats as a ripple of shock swept through the gathered teachers and students. Had the heroes of the Scramble Battle for the Prophecy Orb truly turned? Had they been on Voldemort's side all along? Had it all just been a plot to lower Professor Dumbledore's guard, so they could kill him?
No, he had to still be alive! Dumbledore was the greatest Wizard of all time!
"Dumbledore… dead?" whispered Professor Snape.
"You must be mistaken, Mr Potter," said Professor McGonagall weakly, bracing herself against Snape for support. "Your eyes must have deceived you."
Ginny's mind reeled.
Just like that, Dumbledore's grand plan had gone up in flames. Instead of her, one of the Greengrass twins would become the Dark Lady— and all would be lost. No matter how hard she racked her brains, she couldn't see any way to turn this around.
The plan had hit its first setback when Oleandra had mysteriously disappeared, a few days before Christmas. In its original form, the plan would have had Oleandra safely lead Daphne and Harry through the Archway at the Department of Mysteries, separating Voldemort's split souls from them, just like she had accidentally done for herself last year.
After all, the magic of Horcruxes anchored soul fragments to the world of the living— meaning that if someone physically entered the realm of death, they would be forcibly separated from their parasite. But with Oleandra gone, and Dumbledore in no position to ask Daphne or Malfoy to do the same, the backup plan had been set in motion.
Ginny would absorb all the stray soul fragments she'd captured so far, restoring Tom Riddle's original soul as much as possible— until only Harry, Daphne and Voldemort remained. Then, she would kill Daphne. The act of murder would split the portion of Ginny's soul that had permanently fused with the half inside Tom Riddle's Diary, allowing for the original Ginny's soul to be fully restored.
After that, Dumbledore's other arrangements would come into play.
One way or another, the soul fragment lodged within Harry would come loose, allowing Ginny to absorb it. Then, the final, final showdown would take place— and hopefully, Harry would prevail, enabling Ginny to claim the last of Voldemort's soul fragments and fully restore Tom Riddle's soul, thereby saving him from a fate worse than death.
At this point, the final line of the Dark Lady's prophecy would come true:
FOR AS LONG AS THE DARK LADY YET LIVES, THE DARK LORD SHALL ENDURE.
As long as Tom Riddle in Ginny's body lived, she would be both Dark Lady and Dark Lord at the same time, therefore technically fulfilling the prophecy's terms. That was the best future that Dumbledore had envisioned, after spending countless hours pondering the meanings of the first and second prophecies concerning Voldemort!
But it had all been for naught. Dumbledore's plans had died with him, leaving only Ginny— and Harry and his friends— to rid the world of the Dark Lord once and for all, or die trying.
"Miss Greengrass," said Professor McGonagall coldly. "Would you care to explain where you've been these past few months?"
Previously, everyone had believed she'd died at Malfoy's hands. But now that they thought about it… hadn't she vanished at the same time as Draco Malfoy? And hadn't she returned when he did? The timing was awfully suspicious…
Oleandra's eyes narrowed.
"I had nothing to do with the plot to murder Dumbledore," she said coolly. "I tried to stop Daphne and Malfoy from killing him."
It was true, to a certain extent— but only because she had needed to be the one to do it.
Harry drew his wand and pointed it at her face.
"You didn't even try," he hissed, fury twisting his features. "I heard what you said— Accio Elder Wand. You didn't care if your sister killed him! You just wanted his wand! And for what? As a souvenir!?"
The corridor rang with gasps of shock.
"What did you just say, Potter?" said Professor Snape sharply. "The Elder Wand?"
Now, everything was finally becoming clear. The Muggle-born among them might never have heard of the legend of the Three Brothers, but every pure- or half-blooded wizard present understood the significance of the words he had just spoken.
"That's Professor Dumbledore's wand," said Professor McGonagall, her face turning pale as her eyes fell on the second wand holstered at Oleandra's waist. "I would not mistake it for any other!"
The implication was clear: for the sake of power, Oleandra Greengrass had not hesitated to murder the greatest wizard in all the land— the last line of defence between light and darkness, the only man Voldemort had ever feared. Her greed had doomed them all, and for what!?
"I don't have any time for this," said Oleandra sharply. "I swear—"
Oleandra's tongue stiffened. She'd been about to claim she knew nothing of Daphne's plot— but the truth was, she'd known from the beginning of the year that her sister was up to something nefarious. She had simply never spoken of it. Daphne was family, after all.
Every wand in the room, save Oleandra's, was now aimed at her. Yet, no one dared make the first move.
"So, that's how it's going to be, eh? Never mind how Dumbledore got it in the first place? Fine, then." Oleandra's tone dripped with disdain. "The Elder Wand's history is soaked in blood— so maybe you didn't know the old man half as well as you thought."
Under normal circumstances, this would have been the moment Oleandra surrendered willingly. But who could say when she might be cleared of wrongdoing? By then, the Time Turner's five-hour limit would almost certainly have expired— and, more likely still, it would already have been confiscated from Theo, making it impossible for Oleandra to save Tracey in time.
"Oleandra, what are you saying?" Astoria whimpered. "Tell me none of it's true…"
In the end, it seemed she had no choice but to fight her way out.
"You know me, Astoria, I've never been afraid of a fight…" Oleandra went on, grinning evilly. "So come and have a go… if you think you're hard enough."