Meanwhile, a hundred miles from the relative comfort of Malfoy Manor, Oleandra had just crossed into London's airspace, lurching through the sky in wide zigzagging arcs— the fight with the Heir of Slytherin had taken its toll on her and on Suit the Lethifold. Even with their magical wards, the repeated shockwaves from Ginny's Blasting Curses had done a number on their internal organs.
It had been a very long day, so if she could only rest her eyelids for a second or two…
Oleandra blacked out.
And the very next thing she knew, the wind was whistling in her ears as she tumbled out of the sky, the unforgiving road rushing up to meet her. Lucidity returned to her in a snap, and Oleandra wrenched herself sideways and plunged into the River Thames, sending a plume of water into the air with a loud splash.
The impact punched the air from her lungs, the shock nearly knocking her out as putrid, foul-smelling water flooded her nose and mouth. If it hadn't been for her Authority, a fall from such a height would have flattened her into a crepe.
Now fully awake and in excruciating pain, Oleandra began swimming to the surface— just as a bright beam cut down through the gloom from above, illuminating a swathe of the murky waters in a cone of green.
She froze. Just a bit further, and she would have been seen.
"Told yeh I hit summat," a man's smug voice carried clearly through the water from above. "See the rings?"
"I see the ruddy ripples, all right, Jugson," a second voice replied irritably. "No one could have survived a fall like that, so let's just call in the Heliopaths and get them to fish the body out of the water."
Despite her Authority's limited influence over such polluted waters, Oleandra managed to summon a gentle current to wash her against the embankment, right under the Death Eaters' noses.
"Accio broomstick."
Nothing happened.
"Nice Summoning Charm, Mulciber," guffawed Jugson. "Want me ter lend yeh my fourth-year notes?"
"Must have snapped in half when it fell," grumbled Mulciber. "Come on."
The two men's footsteps gradually faded as they slipped into the warm August night. Once sure they were out of earshot, Oleandra swam out of the slightly slimy water and crawled up a ladder onto the docks, unwilling to remain submerged for a moment longer. Shivering, Oleandra dried herself off with a Hot-Air Charm and used the Quick-Change Charm to swap to some cleaner clothes.
It had been foolish of her to venture into the heart of London like this.
Voldemort had clearly not acted on a whim— he had likely been plotting this takeover of the capital for some time. She had underestimated the number of foes guarding the city and overestimated her own weakened state. There was no way she could dispel so many Muggle-Repelling Charms at once and save the Londoners, and if she made a move, she would be overwhelmed by Heliopaths and Death Eaters in an instant.
What she needed most right now was somewhere to recuperate, and she knew just the place.
…
Naturally, since three of 12 Grimmauld Place's former inhabitants had turned traitor, Oleandra had expected a number of countermeasures awaiting her at the Black family home, and had arrived ready to ward off Jinxes and Curses.
"Daphne Greengrass? Oleandra Greengrass? Severus Snape?"
The instant Oleandra opened the front door, a ghostlike figure composed of swirling dust rose from the carpet in the hall, pointing an accusing, bony finger at her. It looked like an emaciated version of Dumbledore, but it spoke with Mad-Eye Moody's voice, which Oleandra felt was more ridiculous than scary.
At any rate, Oleandra wasn't afraid of no ghosts, so she simply let the apparition explode harmlessly against the Armour of Elhaz, covering her in a fine layer of dust that tickled her nose.
"Achoo!" she sneezed cutely.
But what Oleandra hadn't expected was that Harry, Ron, Hermione and Sirius had had the exact same idea of hiding here. Apparently, they'd somehow worked out this would be the last place she'd think to check— them knowing she knew that they knew. After all, who on Earth would ever return to a place they knew for a fact was compromised?
"Tonks!" shrieked Hermione, rushing down the stairs as soon as she saw Oleandra's face. "You're okay!"
Oleandra froze— what had Hermione just said!? She reflexively caught sight of her reflection in the mirror fixed to the door of the narrow cupboard in the vestibule. That face didn't belong to her!
"Hermione, wait!"
Ron came tearing after her down the stairs in his too-small patchwork pyjamas, grabbing her arm and stepping protectively in front of her. Harry and Sirius nearly flew down the stairs after him, tripping over their own feet, wands raised. Now that was just asking to put someone's eye out…
"Prove you're really Tonks," Ron said breathlessly. "Say something only she would know."
Oleandra's mind raced. She had accidentally stolen Tonks's face on top of her Metamorphmagus powers, so it was likely that when she had briefly lost consciousness… her appearance had reverted to its new default form!
"Er— hang on," said Oleandra, stalling as she scrambled to work out how Tonks's powers actually worked. "Right… something only I would know…"
She focused intently on Hermione's face, willing her own face to change, and…
"Okay, okay, I believe it's you!" said Ron, flustered at the sight of two Hermiones. "You can change back, now!"
Oleandra glanced at her reflection in the cupboard mirror and allowed her face to relax, resulting in her features returning to Tonks's. These powers were rather intuitive! Still, she'd need to shed Tonks's face before she forgot what she was originally supposed to look like— she'd offload it onto a child's doll, or perhaps a painting or a teacup when she was done with it.
"You're hurt," said Hermione in concern. "Hang on, I'll go fetch my kit."
Oleandra let out a sigh of relief. This was a rather serendipitous turn of events— now she'd be able to probe Harry and locate his Invisibility Cloak at her leisure!
All in good time, though…