The mood in Diagon Alley was… peculiar, to say the very least.
The last time Oleandra had visited, an anxious hush had hung over the Wizarding World's most storied street, but something seemed to have changed since then. Shoppers still kept their heads down as they hurried from one shop to the next, yet their eyes lingered a fraction longer than they ought to have on her Bellatrix guise, as her little group passed by. A faint spark of rebellion burned in their pupils… or perhaps it was just her imagination.
"I can't smell a thing," said Astoria, sniffing at the cold air. "Yesterday's snow covered everything up, and today's rain's washed away whatever was left."
Oleandra stifled a giggle as she watched Astoria, in her plump, matronly guise, sniffing at the air like a curious dog. Somehow, she managed to keep it in and let her little sister get on with the task undisturbed. After all, if she couldn't be of help, the least she could do was not get in the way.
"No traces of Tracey," Astoria sighed. "Maybe we'd have better luck indoors?"
The only tracking spell Oleandra knew revealed footprints, which was hardly useful in a place so crowded. As for divination… she could have spent the whole day at it, tossing runestones and dragon knucklebones over a map of the British Isles and asking, each time they fell, whether Tracey was anywhere near.
"We should split up," Cassiopeia suggested. "We stick out like a sore thumb when we're together."
Bellatrix Lestrange, a dead mother, and a platinum-blonde beauty… they made for strange bedfellows indeed, with their current disguises.
"I suppose you're right," said Oleandra reluctantly. "Well then, since you're volunteering, you can take Knockturn Alley," she added. "Astoria can check the Leaky Cauldron and all the shops in between up to Flourish & Blott's, and I'll cover the rest. Send sparks in the air if you're in danger, otherwise, we meet back here in half an hour. Then if we still haven't found anything, we'll switch areas until Astoria's covered them all."
And so, Astoria turned back and stepped through the shifting wall of bricks to investigate the Leaky Cauldron, while Oleandra and Cassiopeia continued along their way side by side through Diagon Alley. They walked in companionable silence until they reached Florean Fortescue's, where Oleandra paused, leaving her companion to carry on ahead.
The Ice‑Cream Parlour was still boarded up, which could only mean that poor Florean, who had vanished a year ago, had met a tragic end. With a flick of her wand, Oleandra blasted a neat hole through the wooden boards blocking the entrance and stepped inside.
After his disappearance, Tracey had turned the place into her temporary home, but there was no sign she'd been back since. Cobwebs draped the ceiling, dust coated the floor, and a sweep of each room with her Mystic Eyes confirmed what she already suspected: no trace of magic lingered here, and no life stirred save for rats, spiders, and other unpleasant little creatures.
Oleandra hopped outside through the hole in the barricade, before repairing it with another wave of her wand. She then crossed the street to Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. She sighed as she stepped inside, the bell above the door giving a soft tinkle.
How she missed her basilisk‑skin robes… but there was no more snake hide left to make another set; she'd sold what remained for a handful of Galleons to cover her expenses.
"Coming!" Madam Malkin called from the back room.
Her face drained of colour as she hurried onto the shop's main floor and caught sight of Oleandra in her Bellatrix guise.
"I'm looking for a girl named Tracey Davis," Oleandra began.
"I– I've already told you people!" stammered Madam Malkin, trembling from head to foot. "I swear on my life, I haven't seen the girl!"
Oleandra turned on her heel and left the shop, her expression unreadable. This was bad; the Death Eaters were already looking for Tracey, and it was only a matter of time before they found her. She wasn't even trying to hide— she had no clue she'd become a target.
The next stop on Oleandra's search was Gringotts Wizarding Bank, but a flash of neon light drew her eye. Perhaps the Weasley twins had seen something — their shop stood at the crossroads of Diagon Alley and Knockturn Alley, directly opposite the bank. How they managed to stay in business when most of their customers were away at Hogwarts for most of the year, she couldn't imagine— but somehow, they kept themselves afloat.
"Welcome!" chorused the Weasley twins as the shop bell tinkled, but their smiles faded the moment they saw who had entered. With Bellatrix's permanently pinched expression, one might have thought she was a devoted fan of U‑No‑Poo, the constipation sensation gripping the nation, though something told them she wasn't here to buy joke products.
"What do you want?" said one of the twins, his expression hardening. "We've got nothing here you people would want, so if you're here to lollygag, you might as well do it outside. You're scaring our customers away."
Oleandra looked around. The shop was empty.
"What customers?" she said with a snigger, before giving a helpless shrug. "Come now, is that how you greet an old friend?"
"We're not in the business of making friends with Death Eat…"
The twins gaped as Oleandra's form shifted before their eyes, and within moments, Nymphadora Tonks stood before them.
"Nymphadora!" one of the twins called happily as he vaulted over the counter, visibly intent on hugging her.
"Don't call me that," Oleandra said stiffly.
"Hang on, Fred," said the other twin cautiously, stopping his brother short with a hand on his shoulder. This one was missing an ear. "How do we know you're really Tonks and not some other shape‑shifter? If you are Tonks, you ought to be able to tell us apart, yeah?"
Was he really George, or was he bluffing? Oleandra hesitated a fraction of a second too long, and the twins' expressions grew guarded. Still, all was not lost; she had fooled the two-eared Weasley initially, so she could work her Fairy magic on him.
"How should I know?" Oleandra said, pretending to sulk. "You're identical…"
Oleandra suddenly levelled her fist at the Weasleys, who flinched away… and she slowly opened her palm, revealing a human ear. Shocked, Fred reflexively reached up to touch the side of his head… and found that one of his ears had mysteriously disappeared.
"How did you do that?" he said in amazement.
"A magician never reveals her secrets," said Oleandra smugly. "Here." She tossed his ear back to him. "Stick it on whichever head you like— it'll hold. Should be a laugh, yeah?"
The Weasley twins stared at her in stunned silence, then broke into the widest grins she had ever seen. "Tonks!" they exclaimed, spreading their arms wide. "It really is you!"