Oleandra flipped deftly upside-down in midair, narrowly dodging a diving falcon's talons aimed straight for her eyes. A vast cloud of birds of every size— dense enough to blot out the sun, were it not already veiled by clouds— flapped towards her with alarming speed. The Druids had marshalled their winged familiars in a concerted effort to force her down, hoping to exploit their numerical advantage once she landed.
"Suit!" shouted Oleandra as she swooped down.
A dark, almost fluid-like substance oozed from her robes, weaving itself into skin-tight armour that cloaked her entire body in a dull, black lustre. As living cloth, her Lethifold could flatten itself until nearly transparent, slipping unnoticed beneath her clothes, acting as a second layer of skin.
She flew through the cloud of flying familiars, ignoring the owls, bats and other flying creatures that scratched at her, knowing that their beaks and talons were too weak to pierce Suit's defences. And a second later, she emerged from the haze of flapping wings unscathed.
Now hovering a few metres above the Ents, she remained just beyond reach of their spindly arms woven from branches and vines— though at such a low altitude, they could still hurl boulders and their fallen comrades her way.
And that's exactly what they did.
Oleandra twirled and barrel-rolled with agility as the tree monsters pelted her with rocks, tree trunks, and whatever else their grubby mitts could seize. Too focused on dodging, she could scarcely draw any closer amidst the relentless barrage… yet without closing the gap, she stood little chance of slowing the Ents' relentless advance. If they made it up the hill, they would flatten Wanderer into a crepe.
Unfortunately, she could summon no more lightning, having already drawn forth all the electric potential the grey skies above would yield. Those clouds were never destined to swell into thunderheads, so that single bolt was as good as it was going to get.
Out of the corner of her eye, Oleandra spotted a Druid dashing from his hiding place under an Ent to the next. She had lost sight of the five others, but they were bound to be around somewhere. She immediately drew her wand and took aim at him.
"Stupefy!"
At such a distance, she would have been hard-pressed to land her spell accurately. The Stunner struck an Ent, leaving only a faint singed mark on its bark where it hit. In response, voices rose from the sea of walking trees.
A particularly brave owl screeched loudly and landed on Oleandra's head, distracting her while vines shot up at her from below, wrapping around her ankles. Oleandra immediately drew the Sword of the Lake from its scabbard and slashed at the offending vines in an arc, slicing them to ribbons before they could reel her in.
"Gah!" Oleandra grunted, batting away a swarm of dragonflies. "Gerroff me!"
She was severely outnumbered, given the sheer number of familiars the Druids had Summoned.
Yet if there was any silver lining to this situation, it was that her Muggle-Repelling Charm remained steadfast. No matter what threats of violence the Muggle soldiers faced, not a single one of them dared cross the threshold into the hillfort, despite the outer log walls having uprooted themselves and marched up the hill, leaving the entrance wide open.
A vine snaked upwards and snatched Oleandra's sword from her grasp while she was distracted shooing away the insects. She could only watch forlornly as it tumbled from the air and vanished into the dense foliage sprouting from the top of the Ents' heads.
"Diffindo!" snarled Oleandra, slashing her wand at the vines snaking up towards her. "Relashio!"
The flying pests flitting about her were beginning to grate on her nerves, and they were so numerous that she couldn't even see three feet in front of her. At this rate, both she and Suit would be spent long before they managed to make any serious dent in the Ents' population.
Oleandra's mind raced. Surely there had to be a way to even out the numbers!
Ignoring the squawking and the screeching creatures dive-bombing her, Oleandra started climbing in altitude, putting herself out of range of the Ents' projectiles, which were large enough to hurt her through Suit's defences.
Oleandra fished a marked acorn from her pouch and pointed her wand at it.
"Geminio!"
The Duplication Charm was one of the very last spells she had learned at Hogwarts before being permanently whisked back to the past, but it was a very handy one. Instantly, the acorn turned into two, and then four, and then eight…
Oleandra mentally reviewed the runes she would need and the precise order in which she would call upon them for her impromptu spell. She rehearsed the incantation twice in her mind before letting the acorns spill gently through her fingers.
Fehu, the Abundance… Yera, the Year… Gebu, the Gift… Berkana, the Birch Tree… no, perhaps Āc the Oak Tree rune would be more fitting. Raidhu, the Way of Transformations… Teiwaz, the War rune. Ehwo, the Partnership rune… Kenaz, the Torch of Wisdom, naturally, and Mannaz, the Human rune.
"Āc, Fehu, Yera!" Oleandra chanted. "Grow! From acorn to seedling! From sapling to Lord of the Forest! Taller and thicker and stronger!"
Green shoots sprouted from the acorns raining down upon the Ents. Oleandra watched in awe as her magic transformed the multiplying acorns swiftly into towering, fully grown oak trees before her very eyes. By dropping so many trees from this height, she had already wrought havoc upon the enemy below— yet she knew she could push even further!
"Gebu, Raidhu, Teiwaz, Kenaz! Ehwo, Mannaz!" Oleandra shouted hoarsely. "Grant these Trees a Shape more fitting for War, and the Wisdom to follow My orders!"
The acorns at last ceased their relentless multiplication as Oleandra reached the limits of her strength. They transformed as they fell, sprouting into magnificent, sprawling oak trees that quickly transformed into Ents, armed with slender, whip-like branches and thick, club-like limbs!
Even Oleandra was taken aback as she watched her sixty-four Ents raising Cain amongst the enemy, wading forth into the fray with unyielding determination. Her soldiers' thick wooden maces splintered the enemies' weevil-infested trunks with ease, while their prehensile whips brought them low to be stomped on.
Everywhere Oleandra's own wooden golems went, they left a trail of devastation in their wake.
With the Dusk-Elf no longer sapping her magic, she could now draw upon the full might of her powers— powers far beyond what any girl her age should possess, courtesy of the Magical Circuits she had drained from Umbridge the previous year.
This was magic on the level of Transfiguration Grandmasters, such as Professors McGonagall and Dumbledore! The power to change one's environment and make it fight on one's behalf!
This was true magic!