"I have to admit, you've exceeded all my expectations," said Ginny, brushing herself off as she rose to her feet. "When I first met you, you were barely a threat."
Ginny gazed up, shivering slightly.
Under the pale moonlight, Oleandra's silhouette, as black as a starless sky, hovered silently above her. Her golden eyes glowed like twin searchlights against the stormy sweep of her dark cloak, which billowed in the cool night breeze.
"It's admirable, in a way," said Ginny, her confidence growing with each word. "Magical strength is fixed at birth and grows steadily over time, with a brief, explosive surge during adolescence. So, it usually becomes clear quite early whether a young Witch or Wizard is headed for mediocrity… or greatness. You've seen it— some of our peers mastering spells on their very first attempt, haven't you?"
In spite of herself, the thrill of anticipation smouldered in Ginny's chest— in both of her lives, she had never faced a real challenge from any of her peers, and she was beginning to relish the prospect of a proper fight. The prospect of having to defeat such a Witch was daunting, but she was confident in her abilities.
"Is that all you had to say, Ginevra Weasley?" came Oleandra's unearthly reply, her voice layered like a choir of a hundred women, young and old alike. "If so, then it's my turn: hand over the ring on your finger, and I'll let you go— no harm done."
Ginny's eyes widened imperceptibly.
How could Oleandra possibly have known that the Marvolo family ring was a Horcrux? It was Voldemort's most closely guarded secret! Had Harry let it slip before she vanished last Christmas, that blithering idiot?
"You… you actually know what this ring is?" Ginny asked, a sharp stab of fear piercing her heart. "How many others have you found?"
"Naturally," said Oleandra drily. "As for how many… I'm not saying."
Oleandra frowned, as a thick thread of fairy magic peeked out from behind Ginny's body, signalling that the red-headed girl had been successfully deceived. That black gemstone on the ring— wasn't it the Resurrection Stone? She already possessed the Elder Wand, so the last Hallow she was missing was the Cloak of Invisibility.
"I see," said Ginny, her eyes suddenly turning cold. "I suppose I'll just have to go all out, then."
Ginny pointed her wand skywards, her magical aura spiking.
Through Oleandra's Mystic Sight, a wave of magic radiated outwards from Ginny, forcing her out of the sky and causing her to drop to the ground. At the same moment, a dome of magic descended over the flower field like a spider's web. An Anti-Flight Jinx and an Anti-Apparition Jinx— spells she recognised well, as Dumbledore had placed them around the castle grounds.
But Oleandra was confused— she ought to have been the one to set those spells, to stop Ginny from fleeing. So why was Ginny casting an Anti-Apparition Jinx instead of her? It would stop her from Disapparating as well, meaning she'd have to take it down if she wanted to teleport away!
"No Disapparating to safety, and no more buzzing around like a fly," said Ginny, smiling evilly as Oleandra picked herself up from the ground. "Let us have a fair duel, Dark Lady to Dark Lady— because from here on out… I fight as the Heir of Slytherin."
Oleandra's eyes widened in shock, but she had no time to ponder Ginny's words.
With a speed and deftness Oleandra had thought unique to veterans of the First Wizarding War— like the members of the Order of the Phoenix— Ginny drew her wand and fired a beam of brilliant blue light at Oleandra, forcing her to roll.
"You're fast," said Ginny with begrudging admiration, watching as Oleandra was struck squarely by the rippling shockwaves of her magical explosion, her smoking body sent tumbling aside. "How did you know I was about to attack, before I'd even drawn my wand or finished chanting the incantation in my head? Is it sheer combat talent? Experience?"
Oleandra didn't dignify her with a response.
In a one-on-one duel, her greatest advantage was her Mystic Eyes. When a Witch or Wizard summoned their magic to cast a spell, they would draw power from the world through their Magic Circuits, causing their aura to visibly swell— at least, to her eyes. If her opponent omitted the incantation, the only surprise Oleandra would have to face was which spell would emerge from their wand.
Oleandra drew the Sword of the Lake, brushing her fingers over the runes engraved at the base of its bare blade, whispering their names under her breath. Her speed and reflexes far surpassed those of any ordinary human; all she needed was to close the gap and deflect her opponent's spells with the sword— a weapon capable of reflecting even Killing Curses.
"Impedimenta!"
Oleandra darted to the side to avoid running into the invisible obstacle and kept sprinting towards Ginny, who now had a slight look of surprise on her face. Ginny waved her wand around her, now chanting audibly, signifying she was preparing a spell of uncommon strength.
"Protego Diabolica!"
A ring of azure flames sprang up around Ginny, casting a flickering blue glow across her face. Oleandra was forced to skid to a halt to avoid incineration— the Sword of the Lake could cut through many things, magical or mundane, but fire was not one of them.
Ginny swept her wand overhead, expanding the ring of blue flames and forcing Oleandra to swiftly backpedal. A volley of silent Blasting Curses followed, driving her into a frantic scramble to avoid becoming the epicentre of another explosion.
At last, there was a lull in the explosions, and Oleandra whirled around and pointed her fist at Ginny.
"Teiwaz!" Oleandra shouted, slamming down her right palm on the arrowhead tattoo on the back of her left hand.
"Protego Maxima!" said Ginny lazily.
A glittering lance of gold streaked towards Ginny, striking the silvery shield she had conjured before her. The lance pierced the shield, shattering it, and grazed Ginny's cheek, causing droplets of blood to bead at the cut.
"Now, I remember that spell," Ginny hissed. "I won't make the same mistake a third time."
The rune of the God of War Tyr's Ever-Victorious Lance was a Grapheme Oleandra seldom employed, for it was made to injure and kill. But when the moment came to pierce magical protections, it proved unparalleled!
"Harry, Ron, Daphne, Mafalda and I were the only ones present in the Chamber of Secrets that night, apart from Percy and my mother," said Oleandra coldly. "So, you really are the true Heir of Slytherin... I always found what happened that night rather odd."
A shiver ran down Oleandra's spine.
Back then, Ginny had only been eleven, but the ease with which she had played with them was terrifying— despite having to puppeteer a gifted Witch like Mafalda from a distance, and being outnumbered four to one by students a year her senior, Ginny could have easily ended all of their lives that night, if she had so wished…
But things were different now.
Oleandra clenched her fist.
She was no longer the terrified little girl who couldn't even open her eyes to look her would-be killer dead in the face. If it were her now, she would definitely win!