The Shapeshifter

Oleandra decided to put the matter of finding the mysterious man on hold; she had absolutely no clues on where to start looking. Over the last remaining days of the winter holidays, she tried a few times to use runestone divination to find a lead, but to no avail. It seemed as though the location of the place where he had been sealed had been rendered Unplottable, much like Svartalfheim.

On the subject of Dusk Elves, it had been the first time that Oleandra had taken a sentient being's life. However, seeing as one of them had tortured her, one could excuse her for not feeling too much remorse at the bloodbath she had inadvertently caused. As the days passed, she stopped seeing the Dusk Elves' faces in her nightmares and eventually, her dreams went back to the usual cryptic visions of the Tree of Terror, Yggdrasil. Yay, fun.

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After the New Year, classes started again.

"Close your eyes, children," Professor Trelawney said. "Feel your partner's palm; feel the lines and ridges in the skin."

With the new school term, Professor Trelawney had moved on from reading tea leaves to palm reading: palmistry. Oleandra didn't really need other forms of fortune-telling other than her runestones, but the more, the better, right?

"Now, do you see it?" she said dramatically. "The life line; it represents their very lifespan…"

"I'm sorry," Oleandra heard Ron mutter. "I must have missed the part where we were supposed to open our eyes again."

"Pfft!" Oleandra managed to stifle her laugh just in time.

Professor Trelawney didn't seem overly amused at Ron's little quip; she wandered over to the pouf where Harry and Ron were sitting and took over as Harry's partner.

"My, how tragic," she said mournfully, shaking her head. "You have the shortest life line I've ever seen; you should cherish what little time you have left, poor boy."

When Oleandra tried reading Daphne's life line, she found that she couldn't actually perceive said life line; while her twin sister's hand was quite different to her own, her palm lines seemed quite ordinary. Oleandra supposed that she didn't have any talent at this type of magic, as Professor Trelawney did declare that Daphne's life line was the longest that she had ever seen. 

This puzzled Oleandra quite a bit. There was only so much surface area on a palm; if her sister's life line accurately and proportionately represented her lifespan, then by all rights, it should be miles long! Did the life line extend past Daphne's palm to wrap a few hundred times around her hand, or what?

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Oleandra still hadn't had a chance to practise her newly acquired Corporeal Patronus Charm on a real Dementor; the last time she'd tried it on live targets, the Dementors had turned out to be a bunch of Dusk Elves wearing Lethifolds. Now, these creatures were arguably much more dangerous than Dementors, but they didn't emit the same aura of despair. Only those who had suffered through the baptism of using the Patronus on a real Dementor could be considered to have truly mastered the Charm. It's for this reason that when Professor Lupin's Patronus lessons restarted, she decided to keep participating.

Since Dementors were technically government employees, there was no way that Professor Lupin could get them to assist, so instead, he found the next best thing: another Boggart. Since Dementors were Harry's worst fear, Professor Lupin would have the Boggart transform into one; a pale imitation to be sure, but Boggarts could also somewhat mimic powers, to a limited extent.

At this point, Harry felt that there was a certain urgency to mastering the Patronus Charm; he couldn't allow Oleandra to leave him behind in the dust, could he? But if he ever needed to leave the castle, for any reason (read: go out and kill Sirius Black), then he'd surely have to face Dementors…

Deep down, Harry knew he was no match for Sirius Black, a man who had blown up an entire street with a single spell. He wasn't an idiot; he could daydream all he wanted, but he wasn't about to hunt down Black by himself.

And yet, from his perspective, Oleandra seemed ready to go after the man by herself. After all, as far as he knew, she'd been tortured by him for hours. And if she was going after Black, well, he couldn't exactly let her go alone, could he?

As for Oleandra, she was simply trying to cover for her sister's lies about where they had been during their trip to Nidavellir! If she didn't seem outwardly mad at the man who was supposed to have hurt her, then it would certainly have seemed suspicious, wouldn't it? And it's in this way that the two would pump each other up, despite neither of them wanting to actually hunt down a dangerous madman!

"Right, then," said Professor Lupin, as he heaved a large suitcase inside the classroom where Oleandra and Harry were waiting. "Luckily for you, I've found another Boggart; it was hiding in Mr. Filch's filing cabinet."

As Oleandra approached to get a better look, Professor Lupin stopped her.

"I'm sorry, Oleandra," he said. "We need the Boggart to transform into a Dementor, so you'll need to stay further away and let Harry go in front. It would be quite bothersome if it changed into a Lindworm again, wouldn't you say?"

"Fair enough," Oleandra agreed.

Harry approached the suitcase, looking quite apprehensive.

"Ready?" asked Professor Lupin, getting ready himself to unlatch the case's locking mechanism.

"Ready," confirmed Harry.

Professor Lupin opened the case, and out came a Dementor; its skeletal fingers gripping the edges of the case as it floated out. Immediately, Harry felt faint.

"Expecto Patronum!" Harry yelled. "Expecto Patronum! Expecto Pat—"

Oleandra watched as Harry fainted, without even the slightest wisp of magic leaving his wand. She could feel the aura of cold and despair from here. Was this really a Boggart? It felt awfully real.

"Oleandra, it's your turn!" yelled Professor Lupin.

"Expecto, Patronum!" Oleandra cried, pointing her wand at the Dementor. A whirlpool of silvery energy rose around her as her magical lake formed under her feet.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" Professor Lupin shouted at her. "We can't leave Harry lying there all day!"

"I'm sorry!" Oleandra shouted back. "I'm too far away; it looks like my Patronus doesn't have that much range."

As soon as Oleandra, walked out of the pool of silvery light, the Charm instantly ceased functioning. She'd need to cast the spell all over again, it seemed.

But it was too late; the Boggart had seen her.

"Oh, Hel," Oleandra swore, freezing in place.

The Boggart hadn't transformed into the gigantic Lindworm; it had changed into herself, tightly bound to a chair, covered in wounds and bleeding from all orifices.

"I don't know, I don't know, I don't know!" Boggart-Oleandra screamed over and over. It seemed as if a new fear had supplanted her old one: the fear of being helpless all over again.

"Riddikulus!" roared Professor Lupin, who'd seen enough.

"I could have done it myself!" Oleandra snapped at him angrily. "And I did! I beat him! I— beat him…"

"Oleandra…" said Professor Lupin, looking at her with sorrowful eyes as she stalked out of the classroom.