In the end, Oleandra decided against going to the address scribbled on the slip of parchment the Weasley twins had given her. The last thing she needed was for someone to associate her one-eyed Tonks persona to her one-eyed real identity, because people might start asking questions.
The sort that were difficult to answer, such as:
How did you suddenly acquire Tonks's Metamorphmagus powers?
What happened to Tonks?
Did you murder Tonks?
As for other means of changing her appearance, ones that could conceal her deformity, Oleandra had two others at her disposal: Polyjuice and Glamours.
Drinking Polyjuice Potion might have temporarily restored her missing eye, but she hadn't any to hand, and going back to St Mungo's to search Tonks's hospital bed for hairs was far too dangerous. Besides, even if she somehow obtained both components, the potion was contraindicated for pregnant women; she would literally be torn apart from the inside the moment the potion entered the baby's bloodstream.
Runic Glamours could also conceal her missing eye, but the trouble was, they were only skin‑deep. If she was touched, or if she interacted too often with the environment around her, the illusion would quickly reveal its flaws. Glamours were best used to avoid drawing attention; they weren't meant to stand up to close scrutiny.
Besides, both methods would have locked her in Tonks's likeness; and with the Weasley twins' playful natures, Oleandra had no doubt they would have asked her, at some point during the radio programme, to amuse them by changing shapes— and then her ruse would inevitably fall apart.
…
As six o'clock drew near, an uneasy feeling crept over Oleandra, and she began pacing in anxious circles around the living room. More than once, she caught herself reaching for her coat and slipping on her shoes to step outside, only to force herself back into the living room again.
"Merlin's beard, what's got into you today?" asked Tracey, looking perplexed. "Is there somewhere you urgently need to be?"
"Greenwich, London— Number 19B, Westcombe Park Road," Oleandra replied without hesitation. "Lovely Victorian‑era villa, right off Greenwich Park. Can't miss it."
Tracey shot her a strange look. "Right now?" she said incredulously. "Can't this wait after dinner?"
Oleandra groaned. Now that the words had escaped her lips, she knew the source of this unsettling sensation that was gripping her; as a Great Fairy, her word was her bond. She had told Fred and George she'd be at that address at six o'clock if she found Tracey, and that constituted a promise.
"If only I said I'd try to make it," Oleandra groaned. "Damn it…"
The Fae Folk were incapable of breaking promises; had she not been in a human body, she might well have vanished from this very spot the instant the clock's hour hand struck six, only to reappear at the address written on the slip of parchment. As it was, she felt an ever‑growing compulsion to rise to her feet, get to London by any means possible, and ring Lee Jordan's doorbell.
'I'll show up if I find the girl,' she had said.
Oleandra had found Tracey… but what if she were to lose track of her again? Say, by falling asleep?
"I'm going to take a nap," Oleandra said abruptly. "Wake me up at eight for Potterwatch, would you?"
"O‑okay?" said Tracey uncertainly.
She'd thought she had grown used to Oleandra's eccentricities, but it seemed she hadn't even come close to reaching the bottom of the barrel. She could only watch with bewilderment as Oleandra rummaged around in her pouch for a bottle, downed a Sleeping Draught, and proceeded to fall into a deep sleep right there on the sofa.
Shaking her head, Tracey went back into the kitchen to put the finishing touches on her pot roast.
At seven o'clock, Astoria dropped by to tell her sister that Cassiopeia, Lucius, and Narcissa Malfoy had arrived at the Muggle‑Born Sanctuary seeking asylum, and that she ought to come down and watch the spectacle as the Malfoys were made to stand and endure the dressing‑down the residents had been bottling up for their kind. But seeing that Oleandra was sleeping peacefully, she decided instead to go share the news with Potter and his friends, so that they might join in the fun.
And so, one more hour passed, and at eight o'clock, Tracey nudged Oleandra awake.
"Wake up, Oleandra," she said gently. "Your programme's on…"
Oleandra yawned.
"Oh, good," she said, rubbing her good eye. "Thanks."
The compulsion had vanished. With the six o'clock deadline now two hours behind her, and Tracey having slipped off into the kitchen— where Oleandra could not possibly follow, bound to the sofa as she was— there was no longer any reason to go to Lee Jordan's house.
Oleandra followed Tracey into the dining room, where a pot roast and the wireless radio sat waiting on the table. Tracey had already tuned in to Potterwatch for her; the password was known to all the residents of the Sanctuary, eager followers of the programme.
"…and welcome back to a brand-new episode of Potterwatch!" Lee Jordan's voice crackled from the wireless. "We have with us this evening three of our regular contributors… Romulus, as well as Rodent and Painter!"
"Evening," came Lupin's weary-sounding voice.
"Didn't we tell you last episode we wanted different names, River?"
"I mean, I get Rodent, but why Painter? I don't get it. I don't paint. Or… do I?"
"Not to my knowledge, no."
"Well, that's rather the point of having obscure codenames, isn't it?" said Lee Jordan patiently. "We lead normal lives under the regime… or as normal as life can be under the Chief Death Eater's rule. If our identities were so easily found out, what would be the point of codenames at all?"
"I want to be Rapier."
"Ooh, good one. Shall I be Excali-bore, then? Not because I'm boring, mind, but because some git who shall remain unnamed bored a hole in my head where my left ea…"
"That's quite enough," said Lee Jordan hastily. "Now, we were expecting Romulus's wife to join us this evening, but it seems she couldn't make it after all, so we'll carry on as usual."