Broken Minds and Broken Promises

Oleandra waved her hand in front of Sirius's blank face, but he maintained the same thousand-yard stare he'd had when she had entered the room. Even though there did not outwardly appear to be anything going through his head at that moment, Oleandra's Mystic Eyes perceived deep confusion and fear deep within him.

"Well?" said Harry expectantly. "You can help him, right?"

Daphne and Tracey had gone to check up on the Greengrass matriarch a few beds away, leaving Oleandra alone with the Gryffindor Trio, who seemed persuaded that she could somehow be of help.

"He's lost in his own mind," explained Oleandra. "It's a defence mechanism— the human soul isn't meant to, how should I say this… exist? Yeah, the soul can't exist that long without… adjustments, you could say."

"What do you mean, that long?" asked Ron in confusion. "Weren't you in there for less than a second?"

At the time Sirius had fallen through the Archway, Harry had been taken away by the mysterious masked man, and Ron and Hermione had been unconscious. Dumbledore had simply told Harry what he'd seen, which Harry had then repeated to his friends: that Oleandra had passed through the Archway only to return half a heartbeat later, carrying Sirius's unconscious body in her arms.

"Niflheim isn't like the Earth," explained Oleandra. "Wherever it is, the concept of time doesn't apply there in the same way it does here— an eternity over there might last less than a fraction of a second over here, in the world of the living."

"If you don't mind my asking," said Hermione timidly, "what happened on the other side?"

In general, Oleandra tried to avoid thinking about her time in the Other Place as much as she could. She had been there twice, but for all she knew, she could have spent thousands of years there— maybe more.

"Well, Sirius wasn't there when I arrived, so I figured he must have wandered off," said Oleandra haltingly, racking her brains for any details she might remember. "I… I remember a river… I remember Dementors— I managed to repel them. Then… then…"

"Oleandra, your nose," said Hermione worriedly.

Oleandra continued speaking as if she hadn't heard her.

"There was a field of reeds… and I think I met someone…?" Oleandra babbled incoherently. "I think they said something important… I remember feeling scared… I… I… I…"

At that moment, Sirius began muttering something under his breath, still maintaining the same emotionless expression on his face. The same sentence, over and over and over again…

"You're bleeding!" Harry cried out in alarm.

"Hm?" said Oleandra distractedly.

She absentmindedly touched her upper lip and looked at her fingers, finding them to be slick with scarlet blood— her own blood.

"Madam Pomfrey!" Hermione screamed shrilly. "We need help!"

Oleandra blinked.

"I'm think I'm fine," said Oleandra weakly. "Just need a handkerchief."

Even though the runes carved into Oleandra's soul allowed her safe passage into the afterlife, such a thing was not something that mortals had ever been meant to accomplish. Crossing a line that was not meant to be crossed was not something that could be done lightly, and to do so anyway was to emerge from the experience forever changed…

"Coming, coming!" said Madam Pomfrey. She burst out of her office and bustled over to them. "Just a nosebleed, hm? Now, don't you move an inch, dear— wouldn't want you to lose an eye over a bloody nose, would we? Episkey!"

Madam Pomfrey tapped Oleandra's nose with her wand.

A wave of heat exploded outwards from the spot the Healer's wand had touched, and Oleandra felt her nostrils drying up, as the flow of blood stemmed. Satisfied that Oleandra was doing well, Madam Pomfrey then returned to her office, but not without reminding them that visitation hours were nearly over, and that they should return to their dormitories, as it was getting late.

"By the way," said Harry, as they were leaving the Hospital Wing. "Did you three also receive letters from Dumbledore? I figured he'd give you private lessons as well, seeing as you're the ones who actually defeated Voldemort…"

"Twice," added Oleandra slightly smugly.

"We received no such thing," said Daphne, sounding oddly interested, for some reason. "What is Professor Dumbledore planning on teaching you, might I ask?"

"I reckon it'd be some amazing Jinx that can defeat You-Know-Who in a single blow," said Ron wistfully, "but Hermione thinks it'd be some kind of Defensive magic."

Oleandra found it rather odd that Professor Dumbledore would give Harry personal lessons, when she and her sister were much more powerful than he was. Then again, he was the Chosen One from her very own prophecy, so what did she know?

And speaking of which…

"Remember that Prophecy Record you kept out of Voldemort's hands?" said Oleandra, recalling what Harry had told her over the summer. "You told me you'd ask Ron to tell me about it to avoid breaking your promise to Dumbledore, but then you disappeared from the Weasley twins' shop, and we ended up forgetting about it all?"

Ron and Hermione looked at Harry hesitantly. After all, Professor Dumbledore had mentioned that the fewer people who knew about the prophecy, the better…

"You saved Sirius, so I'll tell you," said Harry firmly. The prophecy was burned into his memory, so he had no issues relating it back to Oleandra and company.

"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches. Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies. The Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not. Either must die at the hand of the other, for neither can live while the other survives."

Daphne looked oddly pensive as she listened to Harry's words.

"I suppose that makes you the Chosen One," said Daphne softly. "Which means…"

Still feeling slightly woozy, Oleandra suddenly realised that she had made a terrible mistake by allowing Daphne, whom she now suspected to be possessed by a shard of Voldemort's soul, to hear the full contents of the prophecy. If only she hadn't lost so much blood earlier, then maybe she would have had enough wits about her to prevent this from happening!

"That's it?" said Tracey apprehensively. "So, in the end, it's up to the two of you? No matter what Oleandra and Daphne do, it won't affect what happens in the end!?"

Prophecies were absolute.

No matter how hard one struggled to avoid what was written in the stars, the future that had been foreseen would always come to pass in the most convoluted way possible…