Who am I?

It seemed as though Tracey hadn't been the only one to want to have a romantic dance underneath the stars; a few couples were beginning to emerge from the Entrance Hall's great oak doors to have a walk alone in the gardens. The adults, who were now free from the Age Line, were also beginning to exit the castle. For example, couples such as Professor Hagrid and Madame Maxime, Professor Snape and… Professor Karkaroff!?

"What are you looking at, Greengrass!" Professor Snape barked at her, when her eyes rested a few instants too long on him.

"Nothing at all!" Oleandra quickly said, before running back inside, shooing the Fairies away from her.

It was already past midnight, so the Yule Ball had already ended. Hermione was saying goodbye to her dance partner, Krum; Oleandra still couldn't believe she had managed to seduce such a superstar. Cedric Diggory and Cho Chang were also there, though it seemed like all was not well in paradise: Diggory was fuming in anger, and Chang looked as though she was on the verge of tears. Just what had happened here?

At any rate, it was getting late, and Madam Pomfrey had assured her that Daphne would be fully healed come next morning. Oleandra stifled a yawn and returned to the dungeons by herself.

"Lacrima," Oleandra told the stone snake who guarded the entrance to the common room.

The snake uncoiled itself and arched its back, revealing the hidden doorway, which Oleandra promptly crossed. It had been an eventful day, and Oleandra soon settled herself in her comfortable bed and drifted off to sleep.

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

"AHH!" Oleandra screamed. "A g-g-g-ghost!"

It was Boxing Day; the day after Christmas Day, and Oleandra had just woken up to find a translucent figure floating above her bed. It was a stunningly beautiful female ghost that she had never seen before, dressed in gossamer-like pure white robes.

"I'm just kidding," Oleandra said after a pause. "It's a little joke I like to play on ghosts who don't know the meaning of personal space. Speaking of which, would you mind?"

"Ugh," Tracey moaned into her pillow. "It's too early to be shouting like that. Who are you even talking to?"

Oleandra pointed to the ghost, who only sniffed disdainfully and wrapped her blue-coloured diaphanous raiment, a sort of nearly see-through fluffy shawl, tighter around herself.

"I don't see any ghosts," Tracey said, rubbing her eyes. "Maybe you had a nightmare?"

That was certainly strange; even Squibs had enough magic in them to see ghosts. And Tracey was no Squib, she was definitely a half-blooded Witch. Her mother was a Muggle lawyer, incidentally.

"But she's floating right over there," Oleandra said. "Can't you see her, being all transparent and ghostlike?"

"Only you can see me," the ghost helpfully pointed out. "Also, I'm not a ghost."

"Shut up," Oleandra snapped at the not-ghost.

"I hadn't even said anything yet!" Tracey said indignantly.

"I was talking to the ghost," Oleandra explained. "It says it's not a ghost."

"Right…" Tracey said dubiously.

"This is most unproductive," the not-ghost said, rolling her eyes in annoyance. "I should probably have led with this."

The not-ghost leaned forward and put her hand through Oleandra's head, which was an incredibly rude thing to do in ghost etiquette. This ghost was decidedly an annoying one, to be sure; but instead of feeling the tell-tale feeling of being soaked in icy water, Oleandra instead felt vertigo.

The world twisted as she fell inwards into herself— and all of a sudden, Oleandra found herself in a very familiar place, which was somewhat reminiscent of a snow globe left outside at night. The ground was covered in water that reached up to her ankles, and the firmament was a dark dome speckled with stars.

This was Oleandra's inner world, her mind palace: this was what she pictured when she called up the power of runes imprinted upon her soul, but she had never seen it this clearly before. How was this possible? How could she physically be here?

"Love what you've done with the place," the not-ghost commented.

"I know who you are…" Oleandra said slowly. "There's only one person this insufferable I know, and it's…"

"Me?" the not-ghost suggested.

"You're me."

"And I am you."

Startled, Oleandra suddenly noticed that the two of them were not alone; they were surrounded by a myriad different shadowy women; they all varied in appearance, and they were all wearing different types of clothes; Wizard robes, Muggle clothes, and everything in between. The further away they stood from her, the more their features became blurred and indistinct, but there was one thing they all had in common with each other: their eyes— her eyes.

"I will be speaking on behalf of all of us, seeing as how I was the most powerful out of any of us," the not-ghost said. (The other women scowled at her when she said this.) "Once, I was called Viviane, Lady of the Lake."

She gestured at the other shadows.

"And so were they also Ladies of the Lake, before and after me— and now, so are you. We are the living memories of your past incarnations."

"So, you're Vee…" Oleandra said. "It's your fault I was cursed at birth?"

The other shadowy figures murmured their disapproval.

"Yes, yes," Viviane said impatiently. "So what? I made one little mistake by trapping the greatest Wizard of all time in a tree in a fit of passion. Remember, I'm also you, so I know you all made some fairly stupid decisions of your living, so who are you to judge!"

Oleandra just stared at Viviane in disbelief. Were all of her past incarnations airheads, or what? It was depressing just thinking about it!

"You jeopardized our sacred duty as Fairies from Paradise!" a shadowy figure shouted.

"It wasn't her fault," another argued. "It was the decree of fate!"

"Wait, wait, wait!" Oleandra interrupted. "None of this makes any sense! I know for a fact from the inheritance of the stars that the souls of the dead are wiped clean by Dementors in Niflheim; and I've been there myself! If you really are my past incarnations, how could any of you still be in my head!?"

"That only applies to humans, Oleandra," Viviane said gently. "You are a Greater Fae, unlike those Lesser Fairies who still roam the Earth. You are a Fairy from paradise."