What You Seek is Closer than You Might Think

"But how am I supposed to use Occlumency while I'm sleeping? What's the point of all of this?" Harry asked pointedly. "I only see the dreams while I'm asleep, and I can't control what I'm thinking about if I'm sleeping…"

Oleandra rubbed her temples tiredly. Harry had a point, but how exactly was she supposed to motivate him if she told him that the level of Occlumency required to passively block and detect mental probes was so far above him that not even half a year would be sufficient time for him to get to that level? Not to mention that all of that was above her level as well, since Oleandra had never really had a need to practise Occlumency, thanks to the wall of runes covering her soul passively protecting her…

"Then, let's swap approaches," said Oleandra after taking a moment to think. "You felt my presence when I was rooting through your memories, right?"

Harry nodded. It hadn't been painful, just… sort of alien, and melancholic. Was that normal?

"I think I can go even more subtly," she continued. "I'm going to look into your eyes, and you'll try your best to detect when I'm inside your head, okay?"

Oleandra's new strategy was to train Harry to detect the stealthy use of Legilimency being used on him, with the added benefit that this would also allow her to train in nonverbal Legilimency. Wandless casting of such a complex spell was still far beyond her level, so that would have to suffice for now.

Harry and Oleandra locked eyes, and they began staring at each other, trying their best not to look away in embarrassment.

'Legilimens,' Oleandra thought to herself, her wand hanging loosely in her right hand.

Harry's brow was scrunched up in concentration; he was desperately attempting to detect something that he wasn't sure was even there to begin with.

"I think I felt something there," he said uncertainly.

"Haven't started yet," said Oleandra awkwardly; her nonverbal spell had failed.

"Oh."

They resumed staring at each other, and Oleandra tried again:

'Legilimens.'

This time, her magic dug its hooks into his brain, and Harry hadn't detected her intrusion. The plan was to continue rooting around his mind until Harry detected her presence within his head, so Oleandra picked a joyful memory to while away the time.

It was Harry's eleventh Christmas; unlike her, Harry had remained at Hogwarts for the winter holidays in 1991. Harry had received a wooden flute from Hagrid, which he had carved himself, a heptagonal coin from his aunt and uncle, a Weasley jumper knitted by Ron's mum, as well as a box of fudge, Chocolate Frogs from Hermione, and…

An Invisibility Cloak, which had come with a handwritten note:

'Your father left this in my possession before he died. It is time it was returned to you. Use it well.

A Very Merry Christmas to you.'

"Ah!" Harry exclaimed. "I think felt something there, was that you?"

To Oleandra's shock, she had learned that Harry's Invisibility Cloak had to be at least a decade old, even though common Invisibility Cloaks weren't supposed to last that long... And what was even stranger was that her Mystic Eyes couldn't see through it.

Could it be…?

"Y-yeah," said Oleandra, as she attempted to maintain a straight face. "I was in your head for about five minutes before you detected me, though. Not bad, for a beginner…"

Harry began talking about something, but his words were barely registering in Oleandra's mind. She couldn't help thinking about her oath to herself and to Viviane. To fulfil the prophecy of Avalon's return like she had promised, Oleandra needed to resurrect Arthur Pendragon, since dead men couldn't do much of anything.

The prophecy went like so:

High King Arthur, son of Pendragon, once and future King of Britain, would fight and die in vain to save Albion, but would one day return to unite the country once more, and bring magic back to the land.

Viviane had theorized that true resurrection might be possible once all of the legendary Deathly Hallows were assembled, allowing one to master death. And so, it had become Oleandra's goal to find all three Hallows and become their master. Of course, this was easier said than done, but Oleandra had a clue.

After having been struck by Voldemort's Killing Curse last summer, Oleandra's mind had been shattered. And while piecing her mind back together, she had seen a vision of the past, in which the all-knowing Merlin had spoken to her through Viviane, knowing that Oleandra would be watching, fifteen hundred years into the future:

For any who might be listening in, I have a few words of advice. Have faith; for what you seek is closer than you might think.

At first, Oleandra hadn't been too sure what to make of Merlin's cryptic words, but now, it was all coming together. She knew he must have been referring to the Deathly Hallows; he just had to be. After all, one of the Hallows, Harry's Invisibility Cloak, had been far closer to her than she could have possibly imagined…

Were all three Hallows at Hogwarts, Oleandra wondered? And if so, where could they possibly be hiding?

"Hello?" said Harry. "Are you listening to what I'm saying?"

"Let's end things here for today," Oleandra said distractedly. "Wednesday, same time, same place."

Oleandra was too preoccupied to focus her mind on stealthily invading Harry's mind.

Not if she was planning to rob him at the same time, at any rate.

Or maybe, she could find a way to convince him to relinquish it to her peacefully? But if it was a relic from his father, he'd probably never agree to hand it over… Though, he'd probably lend it to her if she asked nicely, yeah?

"Er…" said Harry in surprise. "Okay, I suppose I'll see you then…"

Oleandra bid Harry goodbye, before leaving the Room of Requirement and stalking back down the long flight of the stairs to the Slytherin common room. Her mind kept swirling with ideas and plots that kept her from getting started on the pile of homework on her desk, and in the end, she had to force herself to go to bed at a reasonable hour.

As had become her usual as of late, Oleandra's sleeping mind was infected by a series of nightmares, each one stranger than the last, but at least she woke up feeling refreshed come morning…