The Human Lie Detector

Oleandra skimmed through Rita Skeeter's article, which painted quite the picture: apparently, Oleandra, Harry, Ron, Hermione and Viktor Krum were all involved in a convoluted love pentagram, with the three boys fighting for the two girls' attention: Oleandra being the friendship-destroying temptress, and Hermione being the devious Witch using Love Potions to control men. It was all so absurd that Oleandra could only laugh!

Reading over her shoulder, Tracey blew a sigh of relief when she realized that her name didn't appear anywhere in the article. It was a good thing too, or Rita Skeeter would have had a field day writing about Oleandra conquests! She could already imagine the salacious headlines: Local Witch seduces men and women alike, no one is safe from her advances.

"Good," Tracey muttered. "If my parents learned about this from the tabloids…"

Oleandra didn't catch the rest of her sentence; something to do with digging a big hole. In any case, she didn't see what all the fuss was about; she was already fairly certain that Tracey's parents already knew, but that was beside the point.

Seeing that the Gryffindors were arriving for their joint Potions class, Oleandra quickly stuffed the copy of Witch Weekly back into Pansy's hands before any more drama could occur. Unfortunately, the first thing Pansy would do upon receiving her newspaper back was to kindly gift it to fellow student Hermione— how generous of her!

At that precise moment, the door to the Potions classroom swung open, and Gryffindors and Slytherins alike settled in their usual spots. Oleandra quickly found her seat next to her partner Neville Longbottom, who was looking particularly sweaty today, and the class began in earnest. Today, Professor Snape would be teaching them how to make a Wit-Sharpening Potion, the use of which was forbidden during exams.

Ten minutes into the lesson, Oleandra saw a dangerous glint appear in Professor Snape's eye; the man was on the warpath. Turning around to look at the usual suspects, who liked to sit at the back of the class (like all main characters do), she saw that the Gryffindor Trio were whispering while looking at something under their desk; Pansy's copy of Witch Weekly, no doubt.

Oleandra watched as Professor Snape nonchalantly navigated his way to the back of the classroom, before sneaking up behind them. She would have said something, but Professor Snape hated her enough as it was already.

"Fascinating though your social life undoubtedly is, Miss Granger," said Professor Snape icily, "I must ask you not to discuss it in my class. Ten points from Gryffindor."

Draco and his two thugs sniggered and turned around to flash their POTTER STINKS badges at them. Professor Snape then discovered the newspaper they'd been reading under the table, taking a further ten points from them. And then, he began reading Rita Skeeter's article, line by excruciating line.

Despite herself, Oleandra's face began to redden when Professor Snape read over the bits concerning her.

"My word, Miss Greengrass," said Professor Snape snidely. "You certainly do get around, don't you? When can we expect to hear wedding bells?"

"Ha, ha," Oleandra laughed drily, very much unamused. What was this, comedy night at the local drinking hole? Somebody boo this man!

As if reading Oleandra's mind, Professor Snape instantly became serious again, concentrating his hostility on his main target, Harry.

"If I catch you breaking into my office one more time, Potter—" Professor Snape said softly.

It was fairly obvious to anyone in the know that Harry had been the one to steal the Gillyweed. For one, it was not widely available to students, as Professor Sprout didn't grow this type of plant in the Greenhouse; in fact, nobody could, for thousands of leagues around. Not even the Greengrass family grew it. The plant needed a very specific environment to grow that could not be replicated in the British Isles, so it could only be ordered from more Mediterranean countries.

"I haven't been anywhere near your office!" Harry said angrily.

Surprisingly, as far as Oleandra could tell, Harry was telling the truth.

"Even if someone is telling the truth," Viviane reminded Oleandra, "they might not be telling the whole truth. Be wary not to rely overmuch on your eyes to tell liars from honest people."

"Don't lie to me," Professor Snape hissed. "Boomslang skin. Gillyweed. Both come from my private stores, and I know who stole them."

Truth again; or rather, Professor Snape thought he was telling the truth. That was another thing to watch out for.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Harry coldly stated.

Oleandra and Viviane looked at each other.

"Ah, now he's lying," Oleandra whispered. "He must have got somebody to steal the Gillyweed for him. But what would he need Boomslang skin for?"

"An ingredient that allows one to shed one's skin," said Viviane, "so I assume he must be brewing Polyjuice Potion; that's the most common use for this ingredient, I believe."

Using Perthro, Oleandra could generate Glamours to take another's appearance, but the illusion would immediately be seen through if she was touched. Polyjuice actually transformed one's body; the perfect way to impersonate another.

"I wonder who's he transforming into," Oleandra murmured, turning back to her cauldron to stir it before her potion burnt. Merlin knows that if she didn't do it, then Neville certainly wouldn't… Speaking of which, the boy was squirming uncomfortably while looking at his feet.

Meanwhile, Professor Snape was still trying to get Harry to confess.

"One more night-time stroll into my office, Potter, and you will pay!" Professor Snape hissed.

"Right," Harry said coolly. "I'll bear that in mind if I ever get the urge to go in there."

Neville jumped up in fright upon hearing the word office, and began trembling uncontrollably.

"He knows something," Viviane said; and Oleandra agreed.

"Say, Longbottom," Oleandra said, tapping him on the shoulder. "Know much about Gillyweed? My little sister says you're pretty knowledgeable when it comes to plants; we could use someone like you in our greenhouses after you graduate."

Astoria sometimes described the antics of her fellow Gryffindors in her letters, so Oleandra was somewhat aware of the goofier ones.

"I didn't steal any Gillyweed!" Neville whimpered, before putting his hands in front of his mouth, as if he were trying to stop himself from incriminating himself even more than he already had. Oleandra didn't need her Mystic Eyes to tell that Neville was lying— his face was like an open book.