Oleandra couldn't concentrate properly on her lessons for the rest of the day; her mind swirled with the doppelganger's emotions and memories. It was disconcerting, holding two vivid sets of recollections from the same moments, seeing herself through her own eyes. She remembered the sting of her own defiance against herself, an enemy that she, not it, could not possibly defeat, and the cold detachment with which she'd subdued what she'd thought was a wayward clone.
Was this how the other students saw her— a monster wearing human skin? To them, she must have seemed the lowest of the low, a traitor untouched by any sense of gratitude, who felt no inner compunction to repay the school that had nurtured her, shaped her, and made her so strong.
As Oleandra crossed the Great Hall on her way to the Slytherin table for dinner, she tentatively tried to meet the eyes of those around her. With a few notable exceptions, most lowered their gazes at once when they realised she was watching, even the supposedly brave Gryffindors. The Slytherins were no different; their only acknowledgement was a respectful inclination of the head, as they anxiously waited for her to please look somewhere else, for goodness' sake.
Still, Oleandra reflected as she took her seat, she had, technically speaking, shown her hand when her doppelganger had materialised in the middle of the Great Hall, grappling with Ronald Weasley. For now, she remained above suspicion, but now, everyone knew she could be in two places at once, and that meant any future alibi of hers would carry far less weight.
"I found what you were looking for."
It took Oleandra a moment to register that someone had just spoken to her.
"You mean the castle's nexus?" Oleandra asked, glancing up at Daphne seated across the table from her. "The information really was in the documents we brought back from the Scriptorium?"
"It was rather easy, once I knew what I was looking for," Daphne replied. "Slytherin helped the other three build the castle, and he kept detailed plans."
In the blink of an eye, the empty bowls and plates before them filled with soup, roast meat dripping with gravy, boiled vegetables, and bread. Oleandra tore off a piece of bread and dipped it into her vegetable potage and took a small bite, leaning forwards to take a look at the piece of parchment Daphne had just slid towards her across the table.
"Brilliant," said Oleandra, studying the web of passages marked on the schematics. "The entrance is in the basement, so we won't have to worry about too many prying eyes when we go looking for it…"
"There's just one problem," said Daphne. "I've already gone there to take a look. There's no passage, and there's no secret passage, either— I checked for signs of concealing magic, and I even went to the library to confirm my suspicions."
"And…"
"The Headmaster during the Tudor period had a special chamber built around the castle's heart. It stood until the late 1800s, but after some undisclosed catastrophe, the passage collapsed and the entrance was sealed off. There's no way through, I'm afraid."
Oleandra frowned.
So the place she had temporarily dubbed Hogwarts's Nexus did exist after all— only it was impossible to reach. Surely even Dumbledore wasn't capable of tunnelling through miles of solid bedrock, was he? Had he really used the castle's heart to tamper with the permanent Anti‑Apparition Jinx over the grounds?
"Unless the Headmasters kept a backdoor for themselves…" Oleandra murmured to herself. "In which case…"
Either the entrance, or the secret to finding the entrance, lied somewhere in the Headmaster's office. And luckily, it just so happened that Professor Snape had summoned her to his office at eight o'clock…
Oleandra checked her watch. Dinner was served from six to eight o'clock, so she still had some time to prepare.
"I know that look," Daphne said. "You're planning something sneaky."
"You know me too well," Oleandra said modestly.
…
Ten minutes before her scheduled meeting with Professor Snape, Oleandra took her leave from the Great Hall and headed towards the second-floor girls' bathroom. She quickly found the mirror that housed her Reflection Doppelganger and pressed her hand against its cool, smooth surface, then took a step back to watch as her reflection came to life once more.
"Oh, splendid. I get to be shouted at by Professor Snape," the clone said dryly as she hopped down from the sink. "May I go back in the mirror now, please?"
When the clone returned to the mirror, she was meant to update herself with Oleandra's current memories and emotions. If the clone knew what she was supposed to do, then the update had clearly taken hold, so why, then, was she still behaving so rebelliously?
"You're still broken," said Oleandra, frowning. "Perhaps I ought to make a new one from scratch…"
Having an emotionally unstable clone running loose, wearing her face, simply wasn't worth the convenience of being in two places at once— especially when she was walking such a razor's edge.
"You know as well as I do that magic isn't the issue," the clone retorted, tapping her temple meaningfully. "The problem's up here, and making more clones is only going to make things worse for you."
Oleandra already carried Viviane's memories swirling just beneath her sea of subconsciousness; the last thing she needed was a second, third or however many more sets of memories layered atop her already fragile sense of self.
"Fine, you win," Oleandra said begrudgingly. "Cambio Exuvia!"
Oleandra's cardigan frayed into twisting rings of thread, spiralling anticlockwise. Then the bands reversed, wheeling clockwise before settling into the silvery folds of Harry's Invisibility Cloak. She caught it as it fell about her shoulders, wrapping herself in an impenetrable concealment.
"Lead the way," came Oleandra's disembodied voice.
"The sooner we get this over with, the better," the clone said mean spiritedly. "I can't wait to crawl back into the mirror and watch you squirm with my memories of being told off by Professor Snape."