The girl lay peacefully upon a bed of fairy-lilies in bloom, her hands cupped together over her chest. Around her, the tall meadow grass that bordered the flower bed rustled in the salty breeze drifting in from the misty sea that encircled the island.
There was not a worry on the girl's mind. She was not quite certain how long she had been lying there, but for now she was content simply to rest with her eyes closed, listening to the distant sound of waves crashing against the shore, and to the muted voice of nature.
For the first time in months, she could hear Voldemort's voice no more. The waking nightmare that had been her life was over. She was alone in her own head, and she had one person to thank for it…
"Oleandra…" Daphne murmured.
The sky above was blotted out with impenetrable mist, but despite the dreariness, the land rejoiced. The flowers, the blades of glass, the tree husks of the nearby orchard… They all joyously sang of her return, in a voice that only she could hear. They sang of a triumph thousands upon thousands of years in the making. The Lady of the Lake had returned to save them all.
Daphne sat up. She had to see her.
The tall grass parted before her, guiding her deeper inland, towards her sister. She crossed forests of dead trees and forded ice-cold rivers, clambered over boulders, until at last she reached a tranquil glade, at the centre of which stood Oleandra.
"You're here," Oleandra said simply.
"I know what you are," Daphne replied. "The plants told me."
Daphne was conflicted.
She understood now Oleandra's at times strange behaviour, their mother's strange revulsion towards her sibling. Oleandra was not human, and so her priorities and sense of right and wrong were naturally inhuman as well, and yet… Oleandra loved Tracey, and she had fought against the Dark Lord's rule for the benefit of humankind.
Oleandra had even saved her when she could have easily killed her.
"Even so, I'm still your sister," Oleandra said softly. "I still love you."
Daphne said nothing for a while.
"I don't sense his presence any more," she said at last. "What did you do?"
Daphne could actually feel again. The cold, humid breeze against her skin, the weight of her school robes on her shoulders, the cloying smell of wet leaves in her nostrils… she was mortal again.
"This place is infinitely close to Niflheim," Oleandra said softly. "When I took you here, the sliver of soul Voldemort had implanted in you… it just popped out."
Oleandra looked up at the mists swirling overhead.
"If it wasn't for all this mist, we'd actually be able to see it amidst the stars of the night sky," she went on. "The world of the dead is an actual, physical place in this world of ours… Merlin would call it a singularity… a world so dense, so massive, that the laws of time no longer have any meaning there… or perhaps it's just a hole in the world, and the afterlife is just what's on the other side…"
"Avalon, was it?" Daphne said. "This is what you were after, all this time?"
Oleandra nodded.
While Daphne slept, she had explored the Isle of Apples from end to end, finding no signs of life, save for one. In the centre of the island, she had found King Arthur's final resting place, but against all expectations, she had found him alive. The last of the Great Fairies had already nursed him back to full health after Viviane had sent him to them mortally wounded, but they had sealed him away.
The Once and Future King was alive, but he was just as trapped as the Fairies were. Since this half-dead island was no place for a human to survive, they had put him to sleep to await this fateful day, fifteen hundred years in the future.
"Then…" Daphne said, troubled. "Are we alive, or dead?"
"Both," Oleandra replied. "Our bodies are still in the dungeons below Hogwarts, but our souls are here."
Oleandra had accepted the inevitability of death, so the Deathly Hallows had accepted her in turn. She had mastered Death, allowing her to return to mist-bound Avalon in a single step, bringing Daphne along with her.
"The Deathly Hallows…" Daphne murmured when Oleandra finished her explanation. "You mean, just like in that fairytale? The story about the three brothers?"
Oleandra nodded.
"I'm afraid this was a one-way journey," she said. "I've mastered Death, not Life… but I think I know what to do now."
Contrary to her expectations, the shadows had not stripped away her magic when she had mastered death. Her magic had never been the cost of that mastery, rather, the willingness to relinquish it was all the shadows had demanded of her. It was not a price, but a means, the very thing required to achieve her ultimate goal.
They had given her a choice, and they had hinted at what must be done.
"Suppose you were facing Cousin Ron in a game of Wizard chess," Oleandra said. "What strategy would you use to win?"
"I daresay I would use Kenaz or Ingwaz to temporarily increase my insight and my cleverness," Daphne said, puzzled. "I wouldn't be able to beat him otherwise."
Oleandra smiled.
"Now, suppose Ron was using a Lokk beyond your comprehension to improve his strategies," she said. "What would you do then?"
Daphne shrugged. "Where are you going with this?"
The primordial runes binding Avalon to this world-between-worlds were beyond even Oleandra's understanding. The spell was unbreakable, even for her.
"When facing an opponent you cannot beat, the only way to avoid losing is to flip the board," Oleandra said with a smile. "Change the contest… punch Ron in the nose."
Oleandra gestured for Daphne to take a step back.
"Cweorth… I offer myself to the funeral pyre."
To Daphne's shock, Oleandra burst into flames. She fumbled for her wand, but Oleandra simply shook her head.
"Fehu, Uruz, Thursaz, Ansuz, Raidhu, Kenaz…"
The flames swirled around Oleandra, growing in intensity, and yet, they did not seem to hurt her.
"Gebu, Wunjo, Hagal, Naudhiz, Isaz, Yera…"
The bonfire roared as Oleandra tossed one rune after another into it.
"Eihwaz, Perthro, Elhaz, Sowelo, Teiwaz, Berkana…"
A torrent of flames shot into the sky, scattering the mists and revealing the night sky.
"Ehwo, Mannaz, Laukaz, Ingwaz, Dagaz, and… Odala."
As the pillar of flames dwindled into a thin, flickering stream of fire before finally dispersing into wisps of nothingness, Oleandra finally felt at peace. It was with Odala that she had started her magical journey at Hogwarts, and it was with Odala that it concluded. She had gone full circle, starting out as a Squib… and now, once again, she was without magic.
"Look!" Daphne gasped, pointing up at the sky.
The stars in the night sky were shifting, making way for a new constellation. The very rules of runic magic were changing before their eyes, as the heavens gave birth to a twenty-fifth rune beside Laukaz, born from the sum of Oleandra's magic…
The constellation of the Fairy.