"Messrs Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs, Purveyors of Aids to Magical Mischief-Makers, are proud to present, with the welcome assistance of Mme Bright-Eyes," Hermione read out loud, as the words appeared on the silvery parchment, "The New Marauder's Map."
"Mme Bright-Eyes… is that you!?" Harry spluttered. "What have you done to my dad's map!?"
"I've upgraded it," Oleandra said smugly. "No need to thank me."
Neville's fingertip brushed the Marauder's Map as he searched the dungeons for Ron. As a pure‑blooded Longbottom, he'd been permitted to leave Hogwarts for the winter holidays once his punishment was over; but because of Voldemort's plot, Ron had been kept behind so as to lure Harry into the very trap he'd just fallen for.
"Found him!" called Neville. "Looks like he's back in the common room."
"I told you so, Harry!" said Hermione, sounding rather exasperated. "It was a trap! Honestly, You‑Know‑Who would never have used the real Ron as bait— not when there was a chance we might escape again!"
"But what if it had really been Ron?" Harry said irritably. "We couldn't have just left him there—"
"Excellent," said Oleandra, interrupting him. She snapped her fingers, and with a sharp crack, Spoopey and Dobby the House‑Elves appeared before her. "I'd like you to fetch my cousin Ronald Weasley— tall, gangly, red-headed fellow, he should be in the Gryffindor common room— and bring him back here, please."
The two House-Elves bowed deeply.
"We live to serve, Mistress Greengrass!" they cried, before vanishing.
Oleandra did her best to ignore Hermione's smouldering stare, which felt as though it were burning holes in the side of her head. As expected, Hermione wasn't much of a fan of using House‑Elves, for anything… but when Ron appeared before her a few minutes later, she strangely no longer seemed to mind their enslavement very much.
"Wha—" Ron mumbled through a mouthful of chocolate. "What— where—"
His eyes widened in surprise.
"RON!" Hermione squealed as she embraced him. "You're okay!"
"Ovf courshe I am," he said, spraying a shower of brown crumbs as he spoke. "I waff more worri'ed abou' you three." He swallowed and gave a sheepish grin. "Honestly, I was starting to feel bad— thinking about what you lot had to eat, while I was getting three House‑Elf‑cooked meals a day…"
To Harry's and Hermione's astonishment, Ron no longer seemed to harbour much resentment towards Oleandra, even though she had sliced off his sister's hand. He looked rather relieved to see her faring well.
"Oh, shut your gob," Neville said humorously. "The food wasn't worth the torture, was it?"
Ron's expression darkened.
"Right, I nearly forgot," he said. "I reckon I should explain, yeah?"
And so Ron told them the truth about Ginny— how, in the middle of a heist to steal Gryffindor's sword, she had turned traitor and joined forces with Daphne to murder Oleandra and Malfoy. After Draco's death, Oleandra and the Gryffindors fought side by side on the Grand Staircase but were forced to admit defeat in the end and surrender. Daphne and Ginny had then taken wicked pleasure in their punishment, torturing them so cruelly that Oleandra fell into a coma and was sent to St Mungo's.
"I told you so," Oleandra said to the Gryffindor Trio, scowling. "Ginny was the real Heir of Slytherin all along, but none of you wanted to listen."
Oleandra quietly slipped the memories she'd taken from Ron back into his mind, just so he could follow the conversation.
"I just don't understand why Ginny would turn," said Neville thoughtfully. "It can't have been to protect the rest of the Weasleys, can it?"
"She's a Horcrux too, I reckon," Ron said darkly. "No other explanation."
Hermione took out a notebook and began scribbling down the Horcruxes she knew about, skipping Oleandra's name in case she peered over her shoulder to see what she was writing.
Gaunt's ring.Slytherin's locket.Ravenclaw's diadem.Hufflepuff's cup.
She frowned. Taking Oleandra and Voldemort into consideration, that made eight parts total. Something wasn't right. According to Dumbledore, there should have been seven… the addition of Ginny to the list disrupted her earlier theory about the Horcruxes' identities.
"Right, how could we have forgotten!" Hermione cried out. "Oleandra, what did Dumbledore leave you in his will? It might hold the clue we've been missing!"
Oleandra withdrew Dumbledore's copy of The Complete Guide to the Trees of Britain, Ireland, and Northern Europe from her pouch and handed it over to Hermione, who examined it closely. It appeared to be no more than a normal, Muggle's tree identification guide, no matter under which angle she observed it.
"It's actually Dumbledore's diary," Oleandra explained. "There's a trick to unlocking its true form, but even then, I haven't found a way to make it show me all its secrets…"
"Have you tried asking it nicely?" Ron suggested.
Hermione handed the book to Harry, but the moment his fingers brushed the cover, it sprang open, its pages riffling swiftly all the way to the end.
"I knew it!" Hermione breathed. "Harry, what does it say?"
Harry's eyes flicked rapidly from side to side, but as he read through the message on the book's next to last page, their frantic motion began to slow. By the time he'd finished reading, his eyes had gone almost frightfully empty and lifeless.
"So, it's all true, then— what Skeeter wrote in that book of hers, I mean," he said dully. "Dumbledore really wasn't the man we thought he was…"
The Life and Lies of Albus Dumbledore.
Oleandra had never wasted so much as a moment thinking about the biography Rita Skeeter had written about Dumbledore. She didn't think much of the woman— especially not after she'd published more than one salacious article about Oleandra's supposed love affairs with her friends and fellow Triwizard Champions, men and women alike. What she especially hadn't appreciated was Rita's insinuation, printed in The Daily Prophet, that she and Harry had allegedly conspired to bring down Dumbledore— an accusation that had done nothing to restore the public's opinion of her.
"Here," said Harry abruptly, pushing the diary back into Oleandra's hands. "It says the final page is for your eyes only."
The page looked blank to him, but he supposed that, just as the book had changed when it passed into his hands, it would change again once Oleandra touched it.