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Harry Potter and the Sorceress of the Stars

The twenty-four Ancient Runes— the magic that originates from the very stars themselves. And had she not inherited their power, Oleandra Greengrass would have been forced to live out the rest of her life as a Squib. She is the girl that should not have existed. Throughout her years at Hogwarts, she will discover the truth behind her existence, and learn the skills she needs to protect her loved ones. -Not an AU, except for MC's existence -No system -7 chapters a week

Azure_Abyss · Book&Literature
Not enough ratings
273 Chs

Never Realm Travel while Intoxicated

"Friends of yours, Stacey?" asked Madam Rosmerta gently. "You can take the rest of the day off, I'll take over. You deserve it, now go on!"

Stacey looked gratefully at the proprietress.

"We'll need eight tankards of butterbeer, then," said Oleandra. "Ron, we'll take care of the drinks, you can go back to the table," she added.

Together, Oleandra and Stacey brought back four tankards each to the table, where everyone else had squeezed themselves in.

"Everyone," Oleandra announced, "this is Stacey, a friend from primary school."

"Hello," said Stacey shyly. "I don't have any magic, I'm a— a Muggle, I guess you'd call us," she added, lowering her voice so that the other patrons wouldn't hear.

Oleandra watched as the two Weasleys' ears perked up instantly. Weasleys loved anything that had to do with Muggles, it was in their blood! And it wasn't every day that they could talk to one without worrying about breaking the Statute of Secrecy!

"You know," said Ron, taking a sip of butterbeer, "I've always wondered what exactly rubber ducks are for. Harry and Hermione seem to think it's funnier not to tell me!"

"Hang on, Ron," said Ginny, squinting at Stacey. "She's been cursed, and really badly, too."

"She seems fine to me," answered Ron. "Now, about rubber ducks…"

"She's right," Stacey said quietly, swirling the butterbeer in her tankard slowly. "I have been cursed; they haven't found who's responsible yet. It's the reason why I can't go home to my parents."

"Oh," said Ron quietly. 

"You know, I've been researching curses ever since what happened last year," said Ginny, blowing on her butterbeer to cool it down. "I think I may have a way to remove yours."

"Y—you do?" cried Stacey. "Please tell me how, I'll do anything!"

"Ginny, don't you think the Healers would have done something about it if they could have?" said Hermione. "I don't mean to belittle your research, but they're professionals. If even they couldn't remove whatever curse she has, what makes you think you can?"

"Just hear me out," answered Ginny. "Stacey, if I'm guessing right, no matter how hard the Healers tried, the curse simply undid whatever they did and restored you to your cursed form, right?"

Stacey nodded in assent.

"A continuous curse, then," said Ginny. "My guess is that you and the person who cursed you are linked, and it's this link that feeds magic to the curse, making it impossible to remove permanently. Now, if you were to move far away enough from the caster to break this link, then what would you think would happen?"

"The curse would break," said Hermione immediately. "But what you're describing is impossible; if all you needed to break a curse was to go on vacation to Spain, then nobody would curse anyone."

Daphne nodded; that made perfect sense. 

"But what if you went farther away than that?" suggested Ginny, looking into Oleandra's eyes. "What if you went so far, you weren't even on this planet anymore?"

Harry was completely lost at this point. What on earth was Ginny talking about? Since when was she an expert on curses, or interplanetary travel, for that matter? As he let his gaze wander about the pub, he spotted some familiar figures entering: Professors McGonagall and Flitwick, as well as Hagrid and… Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic??

Harry choked on his butterbeer in surprise. Almost instantly, Ron and Hermione had shoved him and Ginny under the table. Ginny clicked her tongue in annoyance; this hadn't been part of the plan. She had almost fought back when Ron had placed his hand on her head to push her out of sight.

"You don't want to be seen?" asked Daphne. And before even receiving confirmation, she added, "then allow me to help!"

Daphne placed her palm on the wooden table and concentrated, infusing the breath of life into the wooden planks. Immediately, stalks and leaves started sprouting from the table, obscuring everyone from sight. Luckily, Madam Rosmerta's attention was diverted by the arrival of the V.I.P. guests, keeping her from noticing the act of vandalism on her tables.

"What's going on?" asked Stacey, confused. "Why are these two hiding?"

Hermione shushed her; she didn't want to call attention to themselves any more than they already had. She had been planning to use the Potted Plant Moving Charm to move a nearby Christmas tree to block the teachers' line of sight, but it was too late now, as they had decided to sit at the neighbouring table.

"Oleandra, do you want to help your friend?" Ginny whispered. "Then today's our last chance to do so. Malfoy's bound to be somewhere around. We're all here, and it'll be difficult to assemble again until the next Hogsmeade outing."

"I suppose you're right," Oleandra whispered back. "I'll get Draco to meet us inside with the communication spell. Ansuz, Wunjo…"

 

After the call, the Slytherin trio, as well as Ginny and Stacey, left the table and waited for Draco near the exit. After all, if Draco saw Harry, then there was no doubt that he'd tell on him to Professor Snape! As for Ginny, she was confident that she could manage him. She did, however, have Oleandra change her appearance, so that the teachers wouldn't recognize her as she walked past them.

A few minutes later, Draco and his two goons entered the warmth of the Three Broomsticks.

"So, we're finally going!" he exclaimed. "I was beginning to worry I'd been practising these stupid poses for nothing. Well, I'm glad to see you didn't get cold feet, girls! Where exactly are we going, then?"

"Nidavellir," said Oleandra confidently. "I divined that it was the best place to obtain benefits."

"Which realm was that, again?" asked Draco.

"It's the realm of the Dwarfs," explained Oleandra. "Think of them as less ugly Goblins, and better smiths."

Tracey sniggered.

"Hey, Daphne," she chortled. "Remember last year, when Professor Lockhart's cupid dwarf sang you that poem from Blaise?"

Daphne shuddered at the memory.

"Let's just stay on topic, shall we?" she said. "By the way, what did your divinations say about the other eight realms? I mean, seven."

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