Today was the fourth of August— day three of Oleandra's cohabitation with the Gryffindor Trio and Sirius, in the Blacks' ancestral home at 12 Grimmauld Place. Tensions were beginning to run high among the Gryffindors; cooped up together and unable to set their plans in motion, they had nowhere to direct their frustration but at each other.
Oleandra, however, preferred it that way. So long as their focus remained inwards rather than on her, the chances of them discovering she wasn't actually the real Tonks remained blessedly slim.
"Will you stop it?" Hermione's cry echoed from the neighbouring room.
"Sorry, sorry!" came Ron's voice in response. "I don't know I'm doing it!"
The Gryffindors were holding one of their little private meetings in their room again. Ron was likely playing with Dumbledore's Deluminator, fidgeting with its button to soothe his nerves— though the disturbance he caused by sucking all the light from the room was doubtless far more aggravating for those without the satisfaction of having something in their hand that went clickety-click.
Oleandra turned her attention to the black ring on her finger. She had been interrupted the last time she had built up the nerve to use the Resurrection Stone, but now, sitting cross-legged on her bed with the door locked, there was no way she was going to get interrupted again.
She removed the ring and began turning it in her hand.
"Well," said Hermione, "can't you find something useful to occupy yourself?"
Once…
"What, like reading kids' stories?" replied Ron tersely.
Twice…
"Dumbledore left me this book, Ron—"
Thrice…
"—and he left me the Deluminator," said Ron loudly. "If we knew what he left Oleandra, then maybe we'd all have a better idea of how all these random clues are supposed to fit together, and what I'm supposed to do with this bloody thing!!"
Oleandra's eyes flew open, all thoughts of summoning the dead vanishing from her mind. She slipped the ring back into her pouch and pricked up her ears, listening with her ear pressed to the wall for any hint of Dumbledore's plan to defeat You-Know-Who. The information might prove valuable to know…
But it didn't make sense— at the time Dumbledore would have made his will, she'd already been trapped in the past. How had he known she'd return? Then again, he couldn't have known he was going to be assassinated, could he…?
"Don't move!" Harry's shout suddenly echoed from downstairs, followed at once by the infernal screeching of Sirius's mother's portrait, still permanently affixed to the wall near the entrance by a Permanent Sticking Charm.
Two loud crashes rang out in quick succession as Oleandra, Sirius, Hermione, and Ron flung open their doors and rushed down the stairs to help Harry confront the intruder— and Oleandra's stomach sank the moment she saw who it was: the real Tonks's husband, Professor Lupin.
"I said, don't move!" roared Harry, raising his wand as Lupin stared in wide-eyed shock at Oleandra in the stairs, by the desiccated House-Elf heads adorning the wall above the ramp.
"Tonks!" he breathed. "You're okay!"
Tonks had been among those captured after the Death Eaters' raid on The Burrow. Stricken blind, dumb and deaf, as Oleandra's magic had melted off her eyes, mouth and ears and absorbed them into her body, she hadn't been able to defend herself, much less Disapparate in her state. Relief could not begin to describe what Lupin felt, seeing her uninjured.
"Prove you're the real Remus Lupin!" shouted Oleandra.
Lupin took a deep breath.
"I'm a Werewolf, sometimes known as Moony, and your husband, Tonks, the father of your unborn child," he declared, before turning his gaze to Harry and Sirius. "I taught you how to produce a Patronus, Harry, which takes the form of a doe, just like your mother's. Your Animagus takes the form of a big black dog, Sirius."
"That's good enough for me," said Sirius lackadaisically.
Harry, Ron and Hermione turned and gaped at Oleandra.
"Oh, how wonderful," squealed Hermione, pretending as if she didn't already know.
"Excellent," said Ron empathically.
"Congratulations," said Harry warmly.
Harry stepped aside, but unlike what he and Oleandra had expected, Lupin didn't rush past him to kiss his wife, nor did he spread his arms for her to leap into his warm embrace. Instead, he looked at his feet, looking rather miserable.
"What have you done this time, Moony?" asked Sirius, raising an eyebrow.
Lupin walked up to Oleandra and took her hands in his own. He stared into her eyes, but unable to meet his clear gaze, she looked away.
"It's my fault you were captured," whispered Lupin. "I shouldn't have encouraged you to confront her..."
Despite her clumsiness, Tonks was still an Auror, which meant her powers of observation were well developed. Having spent some time in the Greengrass sisters' company as their bodyguard, she had grown accustomed to their various quirks. Furthermore, her natural talent as a Metamorphmagus often instinctively led her to study people closely, in case she needed to impersonate them.
So, was it any surprise that she recognised Oleandra the moment she walked past her at the wedding?
Before taking action, Tonks had gone to her husband to ask him to alert the Order of the Phoenix while she went to confront Oleandra, confident that the girl she knew was not capable of cold-blooded murder. As Oleandra's former teacher, Lupin had agreed with her judgment…
But how he wished he had stopped her then.
"You looked all battered when you showed up on my doorstep," said Sirius. "But apart from that, it didn't seem like you had much trouble with the Death Eaters, once you got your face back?"
"It just sort of happened, I looked in the mirror, and this is what I looked like," said Oleandra with a shrug. "I did run into a bit of trouble— but this was the first place that came to mind when I needed somewhere to lie low."
"You should have gone to your parents' house," Lupin chided her. "Snape and the Greengrass girls have been to 12 Grimmauld Place— they could show up at any moment, and something tells me the Jinx Mad-Eye set up wouldn't slow them down for even a second."
Lupin turned to Harry.
"I'll understand if you can't confirm this, Harry," he said, "but the Order is under the impression that Dumbledore left you a mission."
"That's right," Harry interrupted him. "And before you ask, Sirius, Ron and Hermione are in on it, but I'm not telling anyone else, not even you and Tonks. I already told her I wouldn't."
Dumbledore had shown Harry all these memories in his Pensieve, identified most of the Horcruxes, and tasked him with finding the rest— but he had also made him swear not to tell anyone but Ron and Hermione about the secret mission. He hadn't told him what to do with them, either.
Indeed, Harry was still missing a piece of the puzzle— the last and final secret clue to the greater picture, perhaps.
In his will, Dumbledore had left something for Harry, Hermione, and Ron… but also something for Oleandra. The problem was that Scrimgeour refused to relinquish that last bequest to anyone but its rightful owner, and because Harry had refused to officially back the Ministry of Magic, he had refused to even tell him what it was.
Harry had already made up his mind that he needed this last clue.
Tonks's familiarity with the inner workings of the Ministry of Magic would prove invaluable in finding it, because whatever the item was, it was bound to be somewhere in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, since the Decree for Justifiable Confiscation had been invoked to seize it in the first place…
But how should he go about asking for her help, without endangering her?