Oleandra the Seer

"Well, Lord Odin?" the Magus said snidely to the other shadowy figure, once Oleandra had departed. "Not going to give your successor any boons, or anything?"

"Successor? The girl is nothing more than a leech," Odin stated matter-of-factly. "She was lucky to discover the key to our magic, nothing more. And what about you? Not going to warn her of the hidden danger at her side?"

"No. Though it may be an abomination, for now it is still an innocent monster. To reveal it for what it is now would render any chances of redemption for Ginevra Weasley null."

The talkative Magus paused for a while.

"But still, Lord Odin, Oleandra's existence makes your prophecy obsolete," the Magus continued. "Instead of having to wait twenty-seven more years to incarnate, now you only need to wait four more years, until she and her friends turn seventeen."

"Time matters not to me," Odin said simply. "It is true that granting her a boon might allow her to safely reach adulthood, but it would be too dangerous to allow her any additional power. She's already taken Ægishjálmur, Fafnir's mark, for herself."

"So in short," the Magus said in an amused tone, "She's doomed either way. Either she dies to Lord Voldemort, or she survives and has her body stolen by you. What a cruel joke!"

Odin grunted in assent.

"In that case, how about a bet?" the Magus proposed. "My little Vee's not as simple as you think she is; she did manage to put one over me, after all. I'll wager my sword that not only will she survive her encounter with Lord Voldemort next year, you won't be able to steal her body either."

"Very well," said Odin. "I'll wager Heimdall's Mystic Eyes of the Hawk on the opposite happening; within four years, she either dies or is devoured. The runes are already shining brightly in her soul; as a vessel, she is nearly complete. Not even you could have escaped this fate if you had done the same, Wizard."

"Indeed, it is as you say," the Magus said, sitting down on the ground. "Now then, all that's left to do is to wait and watch. I suppose we'll see soon enough which of our foresights is the strongest; my Clairvoyance, or your Omniscience!"

"The quest for knowledge is never-ending," said Odin wistfully. "I've learned much from the Vanir, but for all their precognitive powers, they could not stop me from destroying them. But even so, not even I would dare call myself omniscient, Wizard!"

=================================================== 

"—you got yourself sealed inside a tree in the first place, you idiot!" Oleandra shouted. "And another thing!"

Oleandra blinked; she was no longer in the other place, at the foot of the World Tree. From the look of things, it was as if her body had never left the classroom.

"Professor, she's awake!" Harry called out. "And please stop screaming in my ear."

"Harry?" Oleandra said in confusion. "What are you doing in here?"

And why exactly was she slung over Harry's shoulder?

"Professor Trelawney said you fainted a few seconds after looking into the crystal ball, so she called me in to help get you to the Hospital Wing," Harry explained. "Fainting; that's a pretty good idea, actually," he whispered. "Mind if I copy your trick for my exam?"

"Er, knock yourself out," said Oleandra dizzily. "Mind putting me down? I'm fine now."

"Miss Greengrass, have you seen anything in the Orb?" said Professor Trelawney mistily, as she came back from a corner of the room she'd been rummaging in. "Care of a drop of cherry cordial? To help you gather your spirits, of course."

"No, thank you, I'm—" Oleandra suddenly stopped talking in the middle of her sentence.

"Are you feeling quite alright, dear?" Professor Trelawney probed. Harry moved to support Oleandra; in case she collapsed again.

"What the?" Harry blurted out. "Your eyes!"

Oleandra's eyes had rolled up in the sockets, showing nothing but their whites.

"It will happen tonight," Oleandra said, in a harsh tone quite unlike her usual voice.

"What will?" Harry asked, a bit spooked by Oleandra's sudden change.

"The Dark Lord lies alone and friendless, abandoned by his followers. His servant has been chained these twelve years. Tonight, before midnight . . . the servant will break free and set out to rejoin his master. The Dark Lord will rise again with his servant's aid, greater and more terrible than ever he was. Tonight… before midnight… the servant… will set out… to rejoin… his master…"

"—fine. I wouldn't want to be tipsy for my exam," Oleandra completed her earlier sentence. "But thank you for offering… What, what are you looking at me like that for?"

Harry's mouth was gaping open in surprise, and there an indescribable expression on Professor Trelawney's face. Amazement, horror and… envy?

"My dear, you're a True Seer," said Professor Trelawney bitterly. "You don't need to worry about your exam; you have just made a prophecy."

"What on earth are you talking about?" said Oleandra, who was completely bewildered. "I was only saying I'd rather not have some cherry cordial—"

"You don't remember?" Harry asked. "You were just talking about Voldemort and one of his servants."

"I think I'd remember something like that," Oleandra said stubbornly. And then, the Magus's words echoed in Oleandra's mind: I'll have you do it instead of her. And so, I'll leave you with a little prophecy of my own.

"Oh," Oleandra said in a small voice. True Seers were supposed to be exceedingly rare, weren't they? What was she going to do if people flocked to her, wanting their futures read? She certainly didn't think she had the gift! At most, she could get general impressions of probabilities with her Runestones, but nothing like this! That Magus guy had played a nasty trick on her!

"I need to inform the headmaster," said Professor Trelawney worriedly, before turning to Harry. "These are grave tidings. Beware, my dear. Beware the Grim…"

"But what about MY exam?" Harry pointed out as Professor Trelawney started down the ladder out of the classroom. 

"You may have Miss Greengrass guide you through this undertaking," Professor Trelawney answered before her head disappeared down the trapdoor. "She has already completed her exam, and she is more than qualified. Miss Greengrass, would you kindly leave Mr. Potter's final grade on a piece of parchment when you are done evaluating his capacities? Thank you, dear."

Oleandra waited until she could no longer hear the teacher.

"Well, Harry," she said. "What grade do you want?"