Love or Friendship

The Hogwarts Express chugged along on its way up from London to Scotland. As usual, there was some rain, but it ended up only being a light shower. And speaking of light things, Oleandra's luggage was mostly empty. She had two pairs of summer Hogwarts robes registered with her Quick-Change Charm, so she had that; even though they were getting a bit too small for her. Everything else, whether it be toiletry, underwear or books, Oleandra had bought them in Diagon Alley with borrowed Galleons right before skipping over to King's Cross station.

"Here's your pouch, back, Sis," said Astoria. "There's about five hundred Galleons in there; Harry made me hold on to them, he said the money rightfully belonged to you."

Oleandra's eyes immediately brightened. Five hundred wasn't as much as a thousand, but for a teenager, that was an enormous sum of money! She was rich!

"I, er—," Astoria coughed. "There might be a little less than five hundred— I thought you were dead, so I might have spent some of it."

"That's okay," said Oleandra, as she checked the contents of her pouch. "Wait— hang on— where's my heart??"

Daphne and Astoria looked at each other; this was another thing they'd wanted to know about!

"We thought it might have been some sort of dark item," Astoria coughed. "I left it in the refrigerator back at our place before I left for the Order's headquarters. You know, so that it wouldn't spoil."

Oleandra sighed. Now, if the Dusk-Elf showed her pretty face before her again, she would have to fight her head-on, since she didn't have the deterrent of crushing her heart. That is, if she hadn't already died from having her blood being constantly refrigerated.

"I guess that's fine," Oleandra grumbled. "It belongs to the Dusk-Elf that invaded the school last year— I stole it from her chest, but she should still be alive, I think."

"I just remembered!" Tracey suddenly said. "Your wand snapped in half, didn't it? Do you have a replacement? If you don't, I could always share mine with you…"

"No need to worry, I've got a new one," said Oleandra, retrieving Viviane's old wand from its sheath. "See?"

"It looks positively ancient," Astoria commented. "Are you sure it still works?"

"It feels… oddly nostalgic," said Daphne, extending her hand towards Oleandra. "May I?"

The air in the compartment was filled with a sweet odour the instant she laid a hand on the wand. Daphne was extremely compatible with this wand; though not to Oleandra's level.

"The vision showed it to me," Oleandra explained. "That's where I've been all this time— looking for this."

Daphne's own wand was beginning to heat up angrily in her pocket out of jealousy, so she handed the wand back to its rightful owner.

"It's a good wand," she simply said.

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As the Hogwarts Express continued its journey northwards, the sky began darkening, and eventually, night fell. Oleandra checked her pocket watch; if past years were anything to judge by, they had nearly reached Hogsmeade Station.

She turned her back to Tracey and quickly changed out of her Muggle attire and into her Hogwarts robes — but when she turned back around, she noted that her friend was actively ignoring her; Tracey was pretending to be reading a magazine with a single-minded intensity that betrayed just how much she actually wanted to stare.

Well, how could Oleandra blame her for wanting to sneak a look? It wasn't every day one got to see her in her full splendour; although she was still slightly underweight from the time she had spent in a coma.

Not eating anything for two months straight does wonders for your figure!

She couldn't help noticing that Tracey was still infatuated with her, but Oleandra was still somewhat reluctant to allow their relationship to evolve into something… more. Oleandra's childhood had been extremely lonely, so she was a bit loathe to grow up, so to speak. Tracey was her first true friend— and that was something Oleandra did not want to risk losing.

Still, their time apart had only made Oleandra notice just how badly she had missed her, and how much Tracey had changed since the last time she had seen her— both inside and outside.

As a matter of principles, Oleandra really didn't appreciate it when her relatives praised her looks, telling her how she was blossoming into a woman— blossoming was for plants, and being a half-vegetable thing was more of a Daphne thing. She considered herself to be her own person, not a pretty flower to keep in a vase to admire!

However, to be completely objective, Oleandra did enjoy looking at beautiful things, and she had to admit that Tracey was quite attractive. Oleandra had been noticing it more and more over the past year, and had often found her best friend to be occupying her thoughts.

Tracey's gambit at the Yule Ball had worked; she had successfully managed to get Oleandra to see her as a woman; as a potential romantic partner.

"What's the matter?" said Tracey, smiling coyly. "You're staring."

"I… was just wondering what you'd been up to this summer," said Oleandra truthfully. "Is… is there anyone new in your life?"

Tracey shook her head, feeling slightly happy that Oleandra was showing any interest at all.

It was to be expected, really; Witches made up a minuscule percentage of the human population; multiply that by the tiny rate of women attracted to other women; times the proportion of girls of around her age that attended Hogwarts, and Tracey's pool of available girlfriends could be counted on one hand.

"We're here!" said Astoria excitedly, poking her head out of the window like a dog.

The clickety-clack of the wheels rolling over the joints in the rails was slowing down— the high-pitched whine of the brakes sounded, and the train grinded to a stop. A hubbub arose from the compartments around theirs as their fellow students stood up to leave, but the three Slytherin girls did not get up just yet; they would only get stuck in the traffic if they left now.

A few minutes later, a path cleared up, so Oleandra and the other girls navigated their way off the train, before walking from the platform to the hundreds of rickety stagecoaches that would take them up to Hogwarts. Oleandra looked longingly at the Black Lake; she would have very much liked to take a dip, but a prefect was expected to maintain a certain level of decorum…

Just like last year, Oleandra could see the Thestrals harnessed to the stagecoaches; the gaunt, dragonish-looking winged horses. And evidently, she wasn't the only one who could see them; she could see Harry desperately trying his best not to look at the rather terrifying-looking creatures.

"What are those horse things?" he was saying.

Luna seemed to have the situation in hand, so Oleandra simply boarded one of the stagecoaches and let her explain that only those who knew death intimately could see them.

Harry could see the Thestrals; he'd been lying to himself about believing in Oleandra's survival.