Harry Potter and the Sorceress of the Stars

Oleandra watched other groups of shoppers walking briskly from store to store, keeping their heads down and avoiding unnecessary eye contact— no doubt they were eager to finish their shopping as quickly as possible to return to the relative safety of their homes.

"Migh' be a bit of a squeeze in there with all o' us,' said Hagrid, bending over to peer through the seamstress Madam Malkin's window display, 'I'll stand guard outside, all righ'?"

Since they were the ones who most urgently needed new robes, Oleandra and Astoria and the Gryffindor Trio had separated from the rest of the Weasleys, who had gone across the street to Flourish and Blotts to purchase everyone's schoolbooks.

Oleandra looked up enviously at her little sister, who was now about as tall as the gangly Ron, the tallest one among them— discounting Hagrid, naturally. How was this any fair? She was supposed to be the big sister!

The shop's entrance bell tinkled as Harry pushed open the door to Madam Malkin's, and the rest of the group followed them in. Once upon a time, Oleandra had very briefly been taller than Harry, but the boy had quickly surpassed her in height a few months afterward, which had been quite vexing to her at the time…

"Now, hold still, please," came a woman's voice from behind a rack of colourful robes. "Wouldn't want to accidentally skewer you…"

Oleandra recognised the voice as Madam Malkin's, who she had often visited to get her Basilisk-skin robes let out and extended. In retrospect, she should have ordered her combat robes a few sizes larger and simply rolled up the hems and the sleeves, but back then, she hadn't lacked her parents' Galleons…

"Ouch!" came a voice which Oleandra instantly recognised as Malfoy's. "Watch it, will you? Do I look like a pincushion!?"

The boy then walked to a full-body mirror to admire his reflection, which to be perfectly honest, wasn't that bad-looking, if only a little pale— and that's when he caught sight of Oleandra and the rest of the gang.

"Greengrass!" he hissed, swivelling to face her. "Remove the Curse you placed on Mother, or…"

"Or what?" Oleandra sniggered.

Malfoy drew his wand, causing the Gryffindor Trio to instantly draw theirs as well.

"Now, really!" said Madam Malkin, her voice slightly higher pitched than usual. "This isn't how civilised people ought to behave— wands away, please, or I'll be forced to ask you to leave!"

"I wouldn't go so far as to say that I'd love to undo my magic, Malfoy," said Oleandra, "but even if I were so inclined to undo what I've done to your dear old mother, she doesn't seem to be among us… unless she happens to be wandering somewhere below my sightline, where I can't see her…?"

A few months ago, Oleandra, Astoria and their mother Iris had been held prisoner in Malfoy Manor. Naturally, Narcissa had got in their way when they'd attempted to escape, so Oleandra had used one of Viviane's nastier spells on her…

Unlike Oleandra, Viviane had been raised as a Greater Fairy— even though she had been allied to the court of Camelot and done some good for humanity, she still belonged to a species that loved pranking and inflicting distress on humans for their own amusement!

"What did you do to his mum?" said Ron, sounding incredibly amused.

"Technically, I didn't Curse her," said Oleandra modestly, since she didn't want to be known as a Dark Witch. "Just a bit of Transfiguration, really…"

Normally, Transfiguration spells were temporary… unless you botched them, in which case, they'd become permanent and very difficult to dispel. This was why Professor McGonagall insisted upon her no messing around rule— Transfiguration and Human Transfiguration were extremely dangerous branches of magic!

"You shrank her!" growled Malfoy, who had somehow managed to grow even more livid, despite his already pale skin. "She's too ashamed to show her face in public!"

Ron guffawed— in his opinion, it was just desserts for Malfoy calling his mother fat!

"Shut up!" Malfoy bristled. "Stop laughing!"

The so-called Curse which Oleandra had placed on Narcissa Malfoy was a Transfiguration spell of Viviane's own design which inflicted dwarfism onto its victim— no offence to dwarfs.

Once upon a time, the knight Gawain (her nephew and Morgan's son) had accidentally failed to greet the Lady of the Lake when he had crossed paths with her on the road, so Viviane had turned him into a dwarf as punishment— to teach him a lesson in gallantry and chivalry!

And they said Morgan le Fay was the evil sister…

"Why not ask your beloved Voldemort to lift Oleandra's spell, then?" said Harry sardonically. "Oh, right, I nearly forgot— Voldemort's mad at your family because your dad lost him the prophecy ball, right? You've lost his favour, and now, you're less than nothing…"

"You have no idea what—"

Malfoy suddenly stopped talking, and an enigmatic smile slowly crept onto his face…

"Please don't say that name!" Madam Malkin whimpered, clutching at her heart. "Wands down, please, I beg you!"

Malfoy slowly lowered his wand.

"What are you sneering about?" said Astoria warily.

"You have no idea, do you?" said Malfoy almost pityingly. "It's almost sad, really..."

Madam Malkin let out a sigh of relief— The young master of the Malfoy family had managed to cool his ardour, so it seemed to her like there wouldn't be any battles in her shop.

"Then why don't you enlighten us?" Hermione suggested. "What's Lord Voldemort up to these days?"

The seamstress reached for Malfoy's left arm to finalise her measurements for his tailor-made robes, but the boy suddenly jerked away from her, as if he'd been stung.

"Watch it with those pins, woman!" he hissed.

Oleandra looked at him curiously— if Madam Malkin had truly pricked him with one of her pins, then why had he reacted with a slight delay?

"Come on," said Hermione, taking Oleandra by the sleeve. "As much as I enjoy seeing Malfoy in pain, he deserves some privacy. I know I wouldn't want him leering at us while we're getting measured…"