"Appare Vestigium," chanted Oleandra.
She waved her mother's wand in circles over her head, but instead of releasing a large cloud of golden dust, the instrument merely coughed out a puff of tarnished bronze dust.
Even though by definition, Oleandra was closely related to her mother and should have had little difficulty using her wand, Iris's wand didn't seem to like her very much— most likely because she had taken it without permission.
From the little Oleandra knew about Wandlore, some wands preferred to be won through force and would then willingly change allegiance— the Elder Wand being an infamous example of such wands— but her mother's wand, made of apple wood with a unicorn tail hair core, didn't seem to be one of them.
"This is hopeless," Oleandra sighed despondently, tossing aside a slimy shoebox.
Apparently, young Lethifolds were quite good at wriggling through tight spaces. As the hour of her Lethifold egg's hatching approached, Oleandra had sealed the shoebox with a twin layer of protection in the form of Odala the Fortress rune and Colloportus the Locking Charm— to avoid getting strangled in her sleep— but even that, it seemed, hadn't been enough.
"But hang on," she muttered to herself. "Does Harry's map track non-humans?"
Oleandra mentally checked her timetable against her sister's.
Tomorrow was Professor Slughorn's Christmas party, which meant today was the last Wednesday before the winter vacation. Knowing that Harry would be taking all the classes necessary to become an Auror, then in theory, he ought to be in sixth period Defence Against the Dark Arts right about now. Oleandra checked her watch: quarter to four. If she left the common room now, she'd have a few minutes to spare before reaching the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom.
She'd have better odds with the Marauders' Map than with a Tracking Spell. Lethifolds could fly and glide and had no feet; therefore, they couldn't leave any footprints behind even if they wanted to.
…
"The Marauders' Map?" said Harry, when Oleandra ambushed him at the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom's door to ask him about the artefact. "Yeah, it can track animals easily enough— or at least, it shows Hedwig's and Mrs Norris's names..."
"That's great!" breathed Oleandra. "Then, would you mind if I…"
At that moment, Hermione brushed past them and stalked down the hall without even bothering to say hello. A few seconds later, Ron and Sirius stepped through the doorway— and Oleandra almost did a double-take upon seeing them, as it looked as though Sirius had stuck his head into a beehive.
"Not at all!" beamed Harry, already rummaging through his book bag to find said map. "Here you go."
"Is that the Marauders' Map I hear you talking about?" said Sirius, peering through swollen eyelids. "I was wondering where it could have ended up after so long… Yeah, if it's alive and has a name, it'll show up on the Map, all right."
Since the Marauders' Map was made from a page stolen from the Book of Admittance, it would keep track of every single living being in Hogwarts bearing a name, using the Magic of Names. And as luck would have it, Oleandra had lovingly named her Lethifold while it was still inside its egg…
"How are you doing, Sirius?" asked Oleandra. "Adapting all right to the twentieth century?"
Ron started counting on his fingers. With centuries it was always one less, so the 1900s, right?
"It's not as if I was born a hundred years ago, you know?" said Sirius good-humouredly. "Of course, I was shocked when I learned that James and Lily— of all people— got together and had a kid, and that their child is standing right next to me…"
Sirius's voice trailed off.
From the amnesiac Sirius's perspective, he was still in his sixth year at Hogwarts. It still felt unreal to imagine being hurled twenty years into the future— only to discover the full extent of his own failures, trials, and tribulations. There was no need to mention that Harry's parents had died at Voldemort's hands because of their fourth friend, Peter Pettigrew's, betrayal…
"Anyway," he went on, his voice trembling just a little, "everyone keeps saying you brought me back from the Other Side when no one else could. So... I s'pose it's about time I thanked you. So, thanks, I guess."
"Oh, er…" said Oleandra, slightly flustered. "There's no need to thank me, really… If I'd found you earlier, maybe you wouldn't have lost twenty years of your memories…"
To be perfectly honest, Sirius wanted nothing to do with his adult self's failures. In fact, he was relieved not to have to carry the guilt of allowing his best friend to die by asking Peter to be Secret Keeper— or the memories of years spent in Azkaban.
Rather, it was Harry who was unsatisfied with this arrangement. As an orphan raised by Muggles who hated him, when he looked to Sirius, he wanted to see in him a parental figure, not a friend. He already had close friends, but he only had one godfather…
"So, what is it you needed the Map for?" asked Harry abruptly, wishing to change the subject. "Lost your owl, or something?"
"Something like that," said Oleandra vaguely.
Unfortunately for Oleandra, it's at this precise moment that Tracey and Daphne emerged from the stream of students exiting the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom.
"Always playing around with words," Daphne spat venomously. "Just say it as it is, Oleandra— you're planning on hunting down that Lethifold that mysteriously appeared in your room and nearly smothered Millicent, aren't you?"
Oleandra glared at Daphne. What was her problem, butting in like that? Professor Snape was just on the other side of the door— what if he heard?
"Really, now?" said Sirius, eyes shining. "What do you say, lads? Care for a spot of monster hunting?"
"You'd have to be stark raving mad to go after a monster like that," snorted Ron. "No thanks."
Sirius ignored him and looked at Harry.
"I dunno…" Harry said slowly. Deflating under Sirius's disappointed gaze, he then quickly added, "I mean, if Oleandra asked for my help, I wouldn't say no…"
"Oh good," said Sirius. "I was starting to wonder if you were really James's son after all."