The End of the Holidays

"Then why don't you teach me, Professor?" Oleandra heard Harry's morose voice through the door. "I mean, if it's that important to you that I learn—"

It was the last day of the Christmas holidays, and for some reason, Oleandra's presence had been requested in the dining room, the Order of the Phoenix's de facto meeting room. Since she had been invited to participate in whatever discussions were to be had, she didn't stand on ceremony and directly entered the room without knocking.

"Ah, there you are, Miss Greengrass," said Professor Dumbledore upon seeing her walk into the room, completely ignoring Harry's very valid question. "Please, have a seat."

At this point, Oleandra had been living with the other members of the Order of the Phoenix for a little under two weeks now, so she had had plenty of time to catch up with her sisters. The adults would always gather in the dining room to share their secret plans in the evening, but Oleandra had never been invited to participate…

Furthermore, whenever Oleandra tried to interact with the adult inhabitants of the house, she would often be given the cold shoulder. Being met at every turn with cold and suspicious eyes had also been Daphne's experience living at 12 Grimmauld Place, so far. Which was why Oleandra had been so surprised when she had finally been invited to one of these secret meetings.

Incidentally, there weren't many people attending this particular meeting; there was Professor Snape, Professor Dumbledore, Sirius Black, and Harry Potter.

"Now, where were we?" said Professor Dumbledore pleasantly. "Ah yes— Miss Greengrass, I hope you remember our agreement?"

She had been allowed to borrow the Sorting Hat so that she could learn Godric Gryffindor's swordsmanship from it, in exchange for a favour: having her tutor a student.

"How could I forget?" said Oleandra, pulling out the frumpy Sorting Hat from her pouch and placing it on the table. "I've learned all I could from it, so you may have it back, professor."

"Jolly good," Professor Dumbledore said appreciatively. "Now, Harry," he continued; turning to him, yet still not meeting his eyes. "Miss Greengrass and Severus are both accomplished Occlumens, and so, I give you a choice: you can either have—"

"I pick Oleandra," Harry immediately answered, cutting off Dumbledore mid-sentence.

At that moment, Snape looked extremely relieved; for a man who always seemed to have a broomstick up his ass, it certainly felt odd seeing him like this.

"I thought you might say that," said Dumbledore with a hint of amusement in his voice, "however, you will still have to report to Severus once a month to verify your progress."

Sirius Black had been listening quietly so far, but he could take no more of the two men in front of him deciding his godson's future without his input.

"Dumbledore," said Sirius loudly. "I think Harry made a good point earlier, but I haven't heard you address it. Why won't you teach Harry Occlumency while he's here? Surely you would make a better teacher than a teenage girl or… a Potions teacher," Sirius finished rather lamely, unwilling to insult Snape to his face with Dumbledore in the room.

"To practise Legilimency, one must open one's mind," said Dumbledore mildly. "It is a two-way street, and the secrets I know are far too valuable to risk."

"And what about my secrets, Dumbledore?" said Snape in displeasure. "Surely they must be worth as much as yours?"

Snape's words finally gave Dumbledore pause. Oleandra and Harry looked at the old man in surprise; they had never known the all-knowing old man to be at a loss for words.

"You are right, of course," said Dumbledore quietly, at last. "But there is nobody I would rather entrust this task than to you, Severus." He then spoke up again, with a slightly hoarser voice. "This arrangement will work, I think. To master Occlumency is to master one's mind; Oleandra shall teach Harry, and Severus shall test him."

The implication was that Harry would have an easier time learning the basics from someone he trusted, while the limits of his mastery would be better tested if he was facing an opponent who could easily disturb his inner peace.

"Very well, sir," said Snape stiffly.

"I shall leave the specifics of the lessons to you, Miss Greengrass," said Dumbledore, his eyes flickering to her. "It is of the utmost importance that Harry masters Occlumency as soon as possible. Do you understand me?"

Even though Oleandra knew that he could not read her mind, Dumbledore's piercing gaze still made her feel as though he could see straight through her.

"I understand," said Oleandra seriously.

Then, Dumbledore had them draw up a schedule for the Occlumency meetings. Oleandra would teach Harry every Monday and Wednesday evening for the rest of the year, while Snape would test him on the last Friday of each month.

"And one last thing," Dumbledore added before disbanding the meeting. "Oleandra, it is imperative that none of your fellow students learn of your true activities with Harry."

It was clear that by fellow students he meant her fellow Slytherins.

"I won't tell anyone," said Oleandra. She didn't have much of a choice to accept additional constraints, because she had already promised to help tutor a student for him.

And so, after saying hello to Mr. Weasley, who had just been discharged from the hospital and had just arrived here, Oleandra returned to the cramped girls' room, whereupon she found a gift box wrapped with a bow tie on her pillow. Could it be that the twins had finally completed what she had commissioned them to make for her, when she had arrived two weeks ago?

Oleandra reached for the box, and two consecutive pops rang out, as the Weasley twins Apparated at the foot of her bed. It was something that she had never got quite used to, living with the Weasleys at number 12 Grimmauld Place; it always kept her on edge.

"Merry Christmas!" sang Fred cheerfully.

"You open your present yet?" George asked Oleandra.

"It's a bit late to be distributing Christmas presents, isn't it?" Oleandra commented. "Besides, can you really count this as a present if I'm the one who paid you to make it…?"

"And we're very grateful for the 200 Galleons!" said Fred, winking at her.

Ginny cleared her throat; she'd been in the girl's bedroom the entire time.

"For the last time," Ginny sighed, as she put down the book she'd been reading, and pulled out her wand. "You do not Apparate in a girl's room like this. I did warn you of the consequences, didn't I? The next time you did something like this…"

"Then, I suppose you don't want to see dad?" said Fred nonchalantly.

"He just got discharged from St Mungo's," sighed George.

"I suppose we'll just have to tell him that his ingrate of a daughter doesn't want to see him…"

"Then why didn't you say so in the first place?" Ginny sighed, rolling her eyes.