The Letter

At eight o'clock sharp, Tracey, Daphne, and Theo appeared before the stone gargoyle on the third floor that guarded the spiral staircase to the headmaster's office. At the mention of the password— crème caramel— it leapt aside, and moments later, the three of them were carried upwards on the slowly turning stone steps. When they arrived, they found Professor Dumbledore, Astoria, and the Gryffindor Trio already waiting for them.

"Excellent. It seems everyone's made it," said Professor Dumbledore, his gaze lingering on Daphne for the briefest of moments before turning to the Gryffindor trio and Astoria. "You're no doubt wondering why I've asked you here, so let us get straight to the matter at hand."

"Oleandra's been found?" asked Tracey hopefully.

After receiving the invitation, the wait after dinner had been nothing short of interminable. She hadn't managed to write a single word of her Potions essay on the use of venoms in antidotes— her head was too full of worst-case scenarios about what might have happened to her girlfriend.

"Not exactly," said Professor Dumbledore, "but I daresay the matter is not entirely unrelated to Miss Greengrass's disappearance. If I might direct your attention to my desk…?"

On the desk lay a piece of ancient, yellowed envelope— so fragile, it looked as though the slightest touch might cause it to crumble into dust.

"When I first became Headmaster of Hogwarts some thirty-odd years ago," Dumbledore continued, "my predecessor, Professor Armando Dippet, entrusted me with an artefact passed down through an unbroken line of headmasters for over a thousand years. An envelope— said to have been written by the Four Founders themselves— to be opened on the sixth of January, 1997: the first day of the new term after Christmas."

"Ah," Theo blurted out.

Tracey glanced sharply in his direction. Did he know something?

"I must confess, I was rather eager to open it, so I've already perused its contents," sighed Professor Dumbledore. "I'd been looking forward to it for years myself— ever since I realised it was destined to be opened during my time as Headmaster. But I won't keep you in the dark any longer— this letter was always meant for your eyes."

"But sir— how is that possible?" asked Hermione hesitantly. "How could the Founders have known we'd even exist, thousands of years after their time? Are we mentioned by name?"

Professor Dumbledore merely inclined his head and gestured towards the envelope on the desk. Before Tracey could do anything, Harry took the hint, stepped forward, and carefully drew the parchment from within.

As Harry read, his expression shifted— first confusion, then a frown, and finally, his eyes widened. Without a word, he handed the letter to Daphne.

"What does it say?" asked Tracey, leaning over Daphne's shoulder to read.

"Lean to the side a bit," Daphne replied, clearly annoyed. "I can't read with your shadow."

The faded ink on the yellowed parchment was barely legible, but Tracey recognised Oleandra's handwriting at once. At the top of the letter were neatly inscribed Translating Runes, clearly Oleandra's handiwork. But what were they doing on a centuries-old letter from the Founders?

To the four ladies and gentlemen who intend to build a school where the two telluric veins knot together, may this indestructible stone slab find you well. I am a student at your school, thousands of years in the future, but unless I have found a way to extricate myself from this predicament, you are reading this message more than two thousand years after my death.

"This isn't possible," squeaked Tracey. "This must be some sort of trick!"

I am fairly certain that it was my fate to be stolen from the timestream, but in the interest of preserving the integrity of the timeline, I will refrain from mentioning specific events yet to unfold from your perspective. I would be eternally grateful if you could relay the following message back to my rightful time in a letter that should not be opened until the sixth of January, 1997:

To my friends, my sisters, and my girlfriend,

It has now been four months since I was stranded in the past. From your perspective— if this letter reaches you as I hope it will— no more than a fortnight will have passed. If Astoria is able to summon my sword, it likely means I have already died. If she cannot, then perhaps I have found a way back— though, at the time of your reading, I have not yet returned. I'm not quite sure how this all works yet, but I am hoping to find a teacher.

"Oleandra's precious sword!" exclaimed Tracey. "Astoria!"

"I need a bowl of water," said Astoria at once. "Deep enough for me to get my whole hand inside."

Professor Dumbledore waved his wand and Conjured a wooden bowl, which he filled with water with a second hand gesture. Astoria hurriedly plunged her hand in the cool water, and… nothing happened.

"It's not coming," she said.

"Then that means Oleandra's still alive!" said Tracey, letting out a sigh of relief. "But I don't understand— how did any of this happen? Was it something Malfoy or that Elf did to her?"

"I remember Oleandra saying something about time-travelling in her sleep," said Daphne slowly, "back at the start of the autumn term. I thought she was just having nightmares…"

It had been right after they'd had a row, about Oleandra keeping secrets behind her back.

Oleandra had tried to open up, made an effort to explain what had been weighing on her mind, even though she usually preferred to keep everyone in the dark about her suffering… but Tracey hadn't believed her. Since Oleandra had never brought it up again, she hadn't taken it seriously either.

"I can't imagine how she must feel, all alone," said Tracey guiltily. "Oh, Oleandra…"

When I first arrived in the past, a nameless young boy from overseas happened to be passing by, and he rescued me from certain death. Ever since then, we've been travelling together, and I've been helping him find what he's searching for in our land. I have an inkling that when we do, all will be revealed, and I will find my way back home to you.

Unfortunately, we were separated during our travels, and I am now preparing to embark on a rescue mission to save him from his enemies. Before I risk my life, I have returned to the place where I first arrived in this time— to leave behind a message, so that you might know what became of me after my disappearance, should I perish in the attempt.

To Professor Dumbledore, please spare her.

To Astoria and my friends from Gryffindor, be brave.

To Daphne, be careful.

To Tracey, I love you with all my heart.

In my heart, I know it won't be long now before we see each other again.

Love, Oleandra.

P.S. I have a suspicion that my nameless saviour may in fact be a young Odin, the legendary progenitor of Ancient Runes. I'm fairly certain he didn't invent the magical discipline, but we both work magic through runes— surely that's fate, don't you think?

"So, we just have to wait and see," concluded Daphne. "The question is, how long."

P.P.S. Please give Theo a good thrashing on my part, it's all his fault I'm stuck here.

"Ahaha," Theo chuckled wryly. "She always has to get the last laugh, that girl— wait, don't come any closer!"