"An unfamiliar ceiling…"
After seven long years, Oleandra had grown accustomed to waking in strange places after fainting. She sat up in bed with some effort, only to see Tracey seated in a shadowed corner of the room, her nose buried in a book. At last, Oleandra recognised the décor— this was her treehouse home in the Muggle‑Born Sanctuary.
So, they had made it back safely after all, she thought, sighing in relief.
"You're finally awake," Tracey noted, looking up from the pages of her book. "Did you know you were pregnant?"
A droplet of cold sweat ran down Oleandra's back. How in Merlin's name was she supposed to explain this one away? Even though they were no longer in a committed relationship, they were still in love with each other…
"I…"
"I'm so sorry," Tracey suddenly sniffled. "I had no idea what you'd been through. Can you ever forgive me, Oleandra?"
Oleandra's jaw fell open in surprise as Tracey rose, crossed to the bedside, and sat beside her, pulling her into a tight hug.
"I pieced everything together from what everyone told me," Tracey cried. "How you fell into a coma after Daphne tortured you, and you were hurt so badly they had to send you to St Mungo's. I'd heard rumours about what became of abandoned women in Muggle hospitals, but I never thought St Mungo's had sunk so low under You‑Know‑Who…"
Tonks's faceless condition made it nearly impossible for the Healers to feed her, and in her malnourished state, her baby had grown worryingly little. Lacking proper medical equipment, the Muggle‑Born Sanctuary's resident Muggle doctor pronounced the child to be of a healthy size for a month‑old foetus.
"Er— yeah," Oleandra spluttered, her face turning beetroot‑red as she finally caught on to what Tracey was implying. "Horrible business, but I'm all right, really. Didn't feel a thing."
"You don't need to be brave with me," Tracey whispered. "I'm here for you."
Oleandra felt absolutely dreadful about the misunderstanding, even though it had worked in her favour. Tracey was the last person she ever wanted to mislead, but her secret was far too important to share, even with her.
She reached out to caress Tracey's cheek, but accidentally poked her in the cheekbone.
"Ouch."
"Sorry, I didn't mean to do that," Oleandra said apologetically. "I could have sworn…"
"It's okay, I understand," Tracey said softly. "The Muggle Healer said your depth perception would be off, or something… here…"
Tracey lifted a mirror from the bedside table and angled it towards her. Oleandra drew a sharp breath at the sight of the scar that ran down the left side of her face, slicing through her eyelid, now stitched shut.
"Ha… haha…"
"Oleandra…?" Tracey asked, sounding rather concerned.
"This," she said, gesturing to her face, "reminds me of someone I used to know. That's all there is to it."
Tracey believed Oleandra was talking about Mad-Eye Moody, who had apparently kicked the bucket in autumn, but Oleandra was actually referring to her old travelling companion, Wanderer… or rather, Odin Borsson.
The architect of Avalon's fall.
Oleandra began reciting the opening stanza to the rune carver's poem.
"I hung on the tree, windblown
Nine days and nine nights
Pierced by my own spear
A pledge, an oath from myself as a Seer
On the tree without end that had grown
Its summit out of sight
Rising from roots no man has ever known
I peered down to the earth
I clutched at the runes incorporeal
Symbols I found, powerful staves
Stained by the olden sages
Wrought by the gods primordial
Graven on the stones of the ages."
"I've sacrificed an eye, but I didn't get anything in return!" she said with a short, rueful laugh. "I'd like a refund!"
"I think an eye is a small price to pay for saving everyone," Tracey said coquettishly. "Wouldn't you agree…?"
Oleandra's breath caught in her throat as Tracey pressed her forehead against hers. She could feel her warm breath tickling her face.
"…you want us to get back together?" Oleandra asked, uncertainly. "After everything that's happened? If it hadn't been for me, you wouldn't have suffered so…"
"I'd argue all of these bad things would never have happened if we had stayed together," Tracey said softly. "Look, I know that I'm not a very good in a fight, and I know that you're worried about me, but we're both adults, aren't we?"
Tracey's knuckles turned white as she clenched her fists.
"It was my choice to fall in love with you, and your choice whether or not to accept my feelings," she said firmly. "But as long as we're together, you must also accept that our lives no longer belong to us alone… they belong to the both of us."
Tracey sighed.
"So, what will it be, Oleandra Greengrass?" she said. "Will you have me, or not?"
The implication was clear. If Oleandra refused, she would never see Tracey again, and they would no longer have anything to do with one another… but if she accepted, then they would share everything, the good and the bad, until death parted them.
"I don't want to lose you…" Oleandra whispered. "I was so scared…"
"Then I suppose you'd better take good care of me," Tracey replied softly.
Tracey's delicate hands slipped into Oleandra's, their fingers interlocking, and she pushed her down, kissing her passionately. Oleandra's tongue traced Tracey's, and all of a sudden, they were tearing off their clothes, their bodies writhing as they entwined under the covers. The world seemed to fall away as their bodies found each other beneath the covers, the boundary between them dissolving until they might have been one.
After a few hours, Oleandra and Tracey drew apart, breathing hard. Their hands found each other once more under the covers as they lay side by side, sharing a weary smile before slipping into a deep, dreamless sleep.