Unofficial Portkey Archive

Harry Potter and the Gilded Portrait - Part Three

Standard Disclaimers Apply…

Chapter Twenty Eight - The Final Term

As Hermione stepped off the train at Hogsmead Station she instantly went into Head Girl mode. There was no time for quiet reflection on returning to her beloved school as she had done in the past.

Duty and responsibility replaced youthful girlish reminiscing and fond recollection.

There seemed to be a marked increase in the first year population. She and Neville found themselves assisting Hagrid, who was thrilled to see her and Ron had returned to finish their studies. He had been a bit disappointed to learn Harry had not returned even though he already knew about Kingsley's plane to make him an Auror.

It had been Hagrid's secret wish Harry would change his mind and come back to the school he loved so much.

After all the first years had been rounded up and placed in the boats to brave the Hogwarts Lake Hermione finally found a moment to take a breath.

She watched Ginny climbed into a carriage holding Dean Thomas' hand. It was then her eyes slid past the youngest Weasley to land on one of the most hideous-looking creatures she had ever seen.

The look on her face must have been a bit obvious as the next moment found Luna Lovegood standing at her shoulder smiling in her dreamy way.

"I realize they look quite frightening but they're really very gentile creatures."

"Erm," Hermione stammered. Getting caught gawking at the skeletal horse-like things only those who had witnessed death were supposed to be able to see was both a bit shocking and depressing.

She had already accepted they were real after riding one to the Ministry to try and save Sirius but actually seeing one was quite disconcerting.

"I suppose quite a few can see them now," Luna added.

When Hermione glanced at the rather dizzy girl she saw tears rolling off her cheeks. It made her heart almost break. It was the first time Hermione had ever seen the look of sadness on the often dingy but always sweet Ravenclaw's face.

Hermione felt her own tears well in her eyes as she instinctively gathered Luna in a tight embrace.

"It's over now Luna," Hermione whispered as Luna reached up to wipe her tears away, "They can't hurt us anymore." She said it with all the conviction she could manage.

Lune sniffed wiping her eyes. She smiled and patted Hermione on the shoulder then turned to get into the carriage.

As Hermione looked around she spied Draco slipping quietly into a carriage with several second and third year Slytherins as well as a dark-looking Pansy Parkington. Pansy seemed intent on trying to have a hushed conversation with him but Draco appeared completely uninterested.

When Ron, Seamus Finnegan and Dennis Creevey slipped into the carriage Ginny, Dean, Luna and Neville occupied Hermione realized she was the odd one out. There was no more room.

As she watched the carriage pull off with its occupants all having quite spirited conversations she suddenly realized life was going to be very different for her at Hogwarts this year.

Part of her really didn't care but the rest of her was beginning to think it was a mistake to return.

She found a carriage loaded with a mixture of third and fourth year students. As soon as Hermione sat down all conversation and jovial excitement stopped. For the entire ride the younger students sat in complete silence taking furtive clandestine glances at one of the Golden Trio. Even to these younger students Hermione Granger was slowly becoming a living legend.

It didn't help she was sporting a shiny new Head Girl badge.

Once they reached the main entrance she was back in Head Girl mode as soon as her feet touched the stone steps. Neville was waiting for her and together, along with Hagrid they ushered all the first years into the Great Hall for the Sorting.

There were quite a few students placed in Gryffindor and only a handful ended up in Slytherin. Hermione thought that quite odd but not hard to explain. It seemed Slytherin House was shrinking quite noticeably with only 2/3rds of the table occupied.

For Hermione, she found herself unwittingly sitting apart from those she had come to know over the years. It wasn't exactly a conscious decision, it was more the fact that when she and Neville finally joined the Gryffindor table there was scant little room left but what bothered Hermione was that Luna and Ginny made room for Neville to sit between them.

Hermione quickly decided she didn't care and was not going to let it get to her. She had a goal. She wanted to get through the term, graduate and move on. That would be her focus and she was perfectly fine with it.

Less distractions, she told herself.

Head Girl duties aside, she came to the realization very quickly she would not find a warm and fuzzy reception here from her peers and she grudgingly accepted it, although it made her a bit sad. It would make her duties much easier.

After the feast the Headmistress, looking much rested and quite a bit more relaxed since the nightmare that plagued her parents was now history, introduced the new professors.

She found herself unwittingly liking the jovial and energetic Professor Dervish almost on sight. He seemed very excited to be teaching this year and it was as if his rather boyish enthusiasm permeated the entire hall. It was impossible not to smile listening to him introduce himself to one and all.

When McGonagall's attention fell to a rather young woman sitting where Severus Snape once did the mood in the room shifted to curious murmurs and hushed comments. When the slender and willowy Transfiguration Professor stood and introduced herself to the students almost every boy's mouth fell open and eyes went wide with wonder.

There was only one way to describe the woman - Ethereally Beautiful - But there was more…much more to this woman than what was on the surface.

It was the first thought that crept into Hermione's mind as she took in the new youthful professor. Her first reaction was to dislike the woman but Hermione knew it was nothing more than the fact that it was just the girl in her coming to the surface and she didn't like it. It wasn't really like her. Yes, she had found herself comparing her own shortcomings to other girls but this was completely different…this woman was a Professor. That fact alone demanded a certain level of respect.

Hermione knew at once if the woman was incompetent or a total Bimbo she would never had made it passed one Minerva McGonagall. No way! So there must be some substance to this woman but when she looked around at all the boys she realized very quickly…they could care less!

Ron was right out there front and center gawking at Professor Star like he had been thumped on the head by the Whomping Willow.

"I don't really care what class she's teaching…I'm there!" Hermione heard him tell Seamus and Dean.

Ginny, on the other hand, looked as if she could bat bogey the woman with no trouble or hesitation as she gruffly tugged on a gawking Dean's cloak sleeve with an annoyed huff. It seemed to be the general consensus from most all the girls in the room.

Hermione found herself feeling a bit sorry for the new Professor. It was certainly going to be a love/hate relationship for her this term but Hermione got the impression from the woman's attitude and demeanor she seemed to be all business. Her mannerism was quite professional.

Even though her dress was very clingy with a rather low cut front it wasn't ostentatious or over-the-top. Hermione knew the Headmistress wouldn't stand for such displays but no-one could deny the woman's obvious beauty.

With another glance toward the Slytherin table she saw that Draco seemed completely uninterested in much of anything as he sat quite stoically, eyes downcast seemingly unfocused - a very worried-looking Pansy sitting next to him tossing concerned glances at him every few moments.

Again it amazed her how utterly defeated he looked. She wasn't sure why it bothered her so much. She thought she should be glad he was not the same hateful, swaggering arrogant twit but she couldn't quite seem to manage it.

When the sorting and the feast was concluded and dinner done Hermione and Neville worked in tandem to herd all the students to their proper places making it very clear that nonsense would not be tolerated this term.

When all were where they should be and she and Neville had met with the house Prefects she finally retired to her new digs - the Head Girl and Boy dormitories and Common Room.

She had known about them, of course but she never really thought she would ever occupy the space. She had fantasized but never really let herself believe she would ever be given the opportunity to be Head Girl and now there she was - standing outside the secret entrance that all Hogwarts students aspired to.

Hermione couldn't help but smile to herself knowing that the Head student quarters was hidden behind an almost perfect artist's rendition of Fawks - Headmaster Albus Dumbledore's amazing Phoenix. It seemed most appropriate in some ways.

As her fingers glided lightly over the rough oil-painted surface of the canvas she wondered just what happened to the beautiful red and gold bird. Her revelry was interrupted by Neville who came up the hall in hushed conversation with a very excited Luna clasping his hand in a death grip.

He pulled up just short when they saw Hermione just standing there looking up at the painting of Fawks.

"Forget the password Hermione," Neville asked.

She was about to reply she knew the password when she saw a very strange and knowing look cross the little Ravenclaw's face.

"He will return one day Hermione," Luna said rather cryptically, "He's just waiting…"

Neville looked down at Luna with an expression that suggested the girl was rather daft sometimes but Hermione could not help but feel a bit creeped out by the barmy girl's rather uncanny perception.

Part of her wanted to know what Luna thought Fawks was waiting for but common sense took over just in time. She stifled a roll of her eyes and turned to utter the password. The painting slid up the wall to uncover an arched stone doorway that lead to the very well appointed and comfortable Head student common room.

The room was a large square space with a high ceiling. A monstrous stone fireplace was set against the back wall between two floor to ceiling windows on either side. The main area of the common room was a round sunken pit that contained a low round table in the center surrounded by comfortable-looking over-stuffed leather chairs and loveseats stacked with pillows and thick tartan-colored blankets and throws.

Two large heavy round-topped wooden doors occupied the center of the walls on either side of the room and the spaces on either side of the doors was occupied by floor to ceiling hangings of the Gryffindor coat-of-arms in the house colors.

Up until that year it was common practice that the Head Boy and Girl be chosen from different Houses for reasons of a conflict of interest but many things had changed over the past year so the reason why the Headmistress decided to choose two Gryffindors was anyone's guess.

Hermione knew McGonagall had to remove herself as Head of Gryffindor House for obvious reasons but the knowledge she had chosen Hagrid to be her replacement both delighted and confused her…but she had so there was no reason to second guess her mentor.

"Well," she looked up at Neville, "You can choose whichever room you like Neville."

"Are…are you sure Hermione?" he asked a bit dazed.

She wrinkled her brow in slight consternation.

"Of course," she replied.

Glancing at Luna she realized the little Ravenclaw shouldn't even be there but kept her concerns to herself for the moment. She also realized Luna was looking a bit longingly at the room to the right.

"Well," Neville said, seeing the same thing, "I suppose I'll take that one," gesturing to the room to the right.

Luna beamed up at him brightly as they made their way to his room. Hermione decided to do the same to begin unpacking and putting her things away.

She knew, as she opened the door to the bed chamber on the left that all her belongings would indeed be there. It still amazed her how this strange and wonderful institution behaved. It seemed to know things before they did. She couldn't help but marvel at that still.

After she had settled in and unpacked she came back out into the common room to find Neville sitting in one of the over-stuffed chairs in the pit quite alone reading his Head duties manual.

"Where's Luna?" she asked trying to be casual.

"She went to get settled in," he looked up from his reading, "I hope you don't mind she came with me."

"Why would I mind," Hermione replied a bit taken aback, "Erm…" she hesitated not quite sure if she wanted to ask the next question but forged ahead anyway, "When did you and Luna… If you don't mind my asking. It's really none of my…"

"Oh, this summer," Neville interjected a bit flushed, "She was here when I came to work with Professor Sprout. She was helping Hagrid take care of the creatures he was going to use in his classes this year along with Buck…erm, I mean Witherwings and the Thestrals. She's quite taken with them. Most all the creatures seem to take to her. It's rather uncanny actually. Hagrid says she'll make an amazing Care of Magical Creatures professor some day."

"That doesn't surprise me all that much. She's such a sweet person…" Hermione said, but the thought… and she has an astute ability to identify with dumb animals… went left unsaid. She smacked herself internally for being so presumptuous and hateful but the thought of Luna's desire to capture and domesticate a vicious giant three-headed dog ghosted though her mind.

They spent the rest of the evening discussing how they would divide rounds and share duties. They agreed to nine hour alternating shifts starting at 10 p.m. and continuing until 6 a.m. for the first few days until things settled down and classes started in earnest. They discussed spreading some of the duties to their Prefects once they had figured out how difficult their schedules were going to be.

She told him her schedule was going to be quite full with the advanced level courses she had requested and he seemed to understand. He agreed to take the first round because of her help on the train so he could study and she didn't argue. She felt a bit tired and drained from the altercation between Ron and Draco on the train as well as her lack of control over her emotions earlier that day when she watched the boy she had come to love so much getting smaller as they drove away. Watching Harry standing in her driveway quite alone made her heart pinch again.

---@>---

Professor Zalina Sheryl Starr, the youthful new ethereally dark and lovely Transfiguration professor found herself in a tremendous and towering tiff as she entered into her chambers in the rear of her new classroom. Once she had managed to extricate herself from an irritatingly and rather profusely doting Professor Dervish she had excused herself as quickly as possible.

Even with all her centuries of training and skill she had never really managed to get control of her anger as she thought she should have. There was just so much that has happened over the last few years that has sorely tested even her steadfast resolve she felt it was a bloody miracle she could keep the top of her head from blowing off and killing all within her reach and that was a tidy distance to say the least.

However, she was also acutely aware that would not help her present dilemma. The idea that Harry Potter would not return to Hogwarts this year was absolutely and inconceivably unthinkable! She was certain he would have nowhere else to go!

What else would the Boy-Who-Managed-To-Defy-All-Odds do? Where was he now?

UGH! UGH! UGH!

She felt her head throb with pain at the knowledge she had made such an incalculable error in judgment.

As she made her way into her quarters the artist's rendering of the youthful Tom Riddle lounged lazily in his portrait. When he spotted Zalina he picked up on her mood instantly.

"Something wrong my dear?" Riddle asked haughtily, "Did that old codger Filch goose you on the bum or something?"

The look she gave the young man was a mixture of mild shock and utter contempt but she forced herself not to respond to his verbal barbs. She figured it only pleased him to know he could rile her anger so easily. She knew she must get control of that or it would eventually be her undoing if she wasn't careful.

"No, you twit," she groused all the same, "Seems our target has failed to return to Hogwarts to complete his final term."

"WHAT!" The young Tom Riddle flung himself from his gilded chair to stand stiffly leering out of his painting with his face a mask of shock and rage, "But…but that's preposterous! I thought you said you were certain he would return! You were absolutely convinced! What are we to do…"

"Enough!" Zalina replied practically shouting to quell his whining protest. "I was certain he would return…I mean…after all where else would he have to go?"

Zalina's mind raced as she tried to determine a way to adjust to this potentially devastating turn of events. She needed to come up with an alternative scheme and in the depths of her devious mind she began to do just that.

She had known the possibility of Harry Potter not returning to Hogwarts after the Professor's meeting just before the term began and she began to considered alternative ways she could get to the barmy little lout as a result. She had just convinced herself she would not need any alternative methods because he would not want to be separated from his little friends…but now…

Bugger it all!

Now she would be required to come up with a `plan B' as it were.

"Oh this is just spectacular!" Riddle's image spit. "I should have known this was all too simple. You should have…"

"Oh do shut up - PLEASE!" Zalina urged emphatically, trying desperately to keep her temper from reaching the boiling point. "Instead of complaining like the spoiled little brat that you are why not do something useful and assist me in thinking of an alternative method to get the stupid boy HERE! That would be a bit more constructive don't you think…or am I asking too much?"

Tom Riddle's painted face crumpled in a hateful glower as he fell back in his chair with a huff, folding his arms tightly across his chest.

"Fine!" He huffed, sounding like a five-year old who had just been scolded by his mother. "What about the other two," he asked.

"The other two what," Zalina inquired. Her aggravation at this new dilemma was clouding her thinking. She told herself she needed to calm down but was having a difficult time of it.

"The other two members of the Golden Trio of course," he replied, "Did they, at least, return this year? Do you even know?"

Zalina recalled seeing the Weasley boy and she was aware the Muggle-born brat would be made Head Girl after hearing a few of the other professors discussing the issue on a previous occasion. They had been a bit concerned by the Headmistress's selection of two Gryffindor students being placed in such positions but all had agreed she must have had her reasons so nothing more was said about it. Zalina couldn't have cared less one way or the other but now the knowledge that Hermione Granger had indeed returned this year could, if she played things just right, help her achieve her goals.

She was certain the torrid little Muggle princess would know the where's and why's and how's of Harry Potter. It was just a question of using her gift of manipulation to get the job done.

"Yes," Zalina responded a bit absent-mindedly, "I think I'm beginning to see how we may still succeed with our plans but it's going to be a bit more complicated than I expected - although not impossible."

It was then she decided it was time to visit Malfoy Manor. She had not been there since Voldemort left to meet his fate at the hands of a teenager. She had questions and since the term would start the following morning it was most likely the last chance she would get until the holiday break.

Donning a heavy winter traveling cloak she made her way quickly down to the main entrance hall and out onto the grounds being careful not to draw any attention to herself. The clever application of occlumency meant never having to explain your actions to anyone.

Once safely outside the grounds she zipped her way to the Malfoy home in a blink.

As she made her way up the crushed gravel path toward the front entrance she could see those ridiculously ostentatious peacocks running about the grounds.

The place looked a bit worse for wear since Lucius had been made to walk the vale and most of the monetary assets of the Malfoys had been confiscated by the Ministry to help with the reparations in the Muggle world.

She made her way to the front entrance as if she owned the place and pushed her way through the doors without so much as a `hullo…is anyone in!'

Once inside the rather dark foyer she glanced quickly about with her hand firmly on her wand but there wasn't a single sound and no-one seemed to be in residence, although it was quite late.

Without another thought she made her way to the rear of the main hall. At the end she made a left turn and went into what once had been Lucius' study or office. She continued to the rear of the room around the huge ornate and extravagantly expensive mahogany desk to a small section of wall to the right of the fireplace.

She glanced at the desk wide-eyed for a moment as she passed, the surface smooth and devoid of any objects at all.

Merlin's bloomers! You could land small Muggle flying machines on the stupid thing!

She pressed the head of a sappy winged cherub that held up the right corner of the mantle and it shifted ever so slightly.

She heard the familiar click and a rather narrow section of the paneling swung inward. She pushed her way into the darkness of the stone passageway beyond.

Once inside she pulled her wand and cast a Lumos spell. It showed her the narrow winding stone steps that led deep below the ground of the Malfoy mansion. At the bottom a wide corridor led of into inky blackness in two different directions, Zalina took the one to the right.

She passed ancient-looking cages and cells each fronted with rusty metal bars and old fashioned locks that were meant to keep certain things in!

Oh how I miss those days!

At the end of the corridor was a massive iron door with a huge lock. Next to the door on the right was a large iron key on a ring hanging from a peg driven into the stone. Snatching the key she jammed it into the lock, wiggled it about a bit then turned it to unlock the chamber door.

With a sickening groan of ancient rusty iron on iron that raised goose flesh on her arms she pulled the heavy door open just wide enough for her slender frame to slip through. She took the key with her…just for good measure.

The contents of the chamber were not unlike what could be found at Borgin & Burks in Knockturn Alley. All manner of ancient dark artifacts sat on shelves or rested in old wooden crates all around the rather large room.

When the light from her wand lit up the space the all sorts of strange sounds met her ears.

Some of these things have not seen the light of day in centuries! Narcissa could very well net herself a small fortune if she just went through this stuff and sold some of it…then again…

Zalina also realized the woman could find herself with a one-way ticket to Azkaban as well. She knew times were changing and tolerance for the Dark Arts waning in the wake of the destruction of His Royal Idiot - The Dark Lord of Blithering Stupidity and the indoctrination of the present administration…and she didn't like it one bit!

It was now left to her to try and salvage something from the wreckage of his botched coup de gras and the one person she knew she could count on to help her lay just a few steps beyond the edge of the darkness that surrounded her.

On the back wall of the dark, dank underground chamber hung a life-size portrait spelled and warded to help resist the ravages of time, decay and any potential for detection from any but a select few. Only two remained alive who knew this portrait existed. She was one…

When the glow of her wand brought the painting out of the depths of the blackness she couldn't help but feel the ever-familiar tingle of sheer awe and reverence that seemed to emanate from the image like waves of subtle warmth.

His face was dark but possessed a masculine beauty that could not be denied. His coal-black eyes held what appeared to be centuries of experiences and knowledge. His long straight hair, eyebrows, pencil-thin mustache and go-tee were all as black as a raven's wing.

When his artist-rendered eyes adjusted to the sudden presence of light his fine-featured face and perfectly shaped lips split into what most would have considered a devious and diabolical grin.

Zalina knew that wasn't the case. It was just the way he looked…intimidating and austere.

"Well," his deep voice rumbled from the canvas, "Whom do we have we here? Could it be?"

The sound of his powerful and commanding voice sent chills all over Zalina's body. She seemed powerless to control her reaction to his intense aura. Even just his image affected her in ways the living never could.

"Yes Great Grandfather," she responded in an almost breathless voice, "It is I. I've come seeking advice on a matter of great importance to our cause."

"I must confess my dear Sallispell this new look you have adopted is quite…how can I put it," he paused. His gaze seemed to cut right through her causing her to shiver slightly as if a touch, feather light had traveled down the back of her slender neck, "Stimulating."

Zalina forced herself to focus. She had need of his knowledge. She really didn't have time for this.

"Undoubtedly you heard of what has transpired in the recent past?" She asked shifting sideways a little trying to control herself.

"Yes," Salazar Slytherin replied, his face going dark suddenly, "I am well aware of the incompetence and foolishness of our half-Muggle relative. The knowledge he could be so easily vanquished is…embarrassing."

"It is my desire to attempt to rectify his mistake and return honor and strength to our aims Great Grandfather."

Salazar leaned back slightly gazing down at Zalina over his aquiline nose and slowly folded powerful looking arms across his massive chest.

"And how do you propose to do this child?"

His tone was rather condescending and it caused Zalina to chafe slightly. She hadn't been a child in over 850 years.

"I have Tom Riddle's portrait taken from the ruins of his own Grandfather's estate. It is my intention to attempt to pull him from the darkness using the aura contained in his animated image. Once the aura is called forth it will call the resonance of the last soul fragment that exists and with the use of the proper sorcery and incantations call fourth the fragment from beyond."

Salazar looked at his great granddaughter with slight surprise. He was well aware she was skilled, resourceful and quite clever. She had managed to survive through all these centuries when all others in their families had turned to dust ages before…including himself. He had a great respect for this young lady even though her present appearance was nothing like he remembered of her as a young woman in Moldavia in the 12^th century.

Even so he wasn't certain she possessed the necessary skill to succeed nor was he certain it was even necessary.

"Are you certain you wish to bring him back? He was, after all, the architect of his own destruction - undermined at almost every turn by his own ignorance, greed and lack of knowledge. I am uncertain what value he could be to our cause in this present climate."

"While I agree with your assessment for the most part Great Grandfather," Zalina implored, "it is nothing more than the grip of utter fear his re-emergence would cause throughout the wizard world. There was a time when nothing more than his name struck terror in the hearts and minds of all who heard it. Even in some places in the Muggle world he was well known."

"I will use him to strike back against the existing tide of arrogance that now exists and bring purity buck to our world. It will be I, this time, who will be in control. Tom Riddle will be nothing more than a puppet to initiate the turning of the tide. When the task is done he will be returned to the darkness…permanently!"

"The streets will run with the blood of those who are not worthy and your dream of a pure, united world of magic will prevail."

Zalina looked at the portrait of her Great Grandfather with such a manic smile he could see the utter conviction in her cause.

"What about those who stood in his path before, Sallispell?" Salazar asked, still skeptical.

"The great Albus Dumbledore is no longer a threat and the one left to take his place will not be a factor either."

"How can you be so sure?"

Zalina smiled. A dark, dangerous gleam flashed in her ethereal violet eyes.

"Because, it is he who will be used to contain the life force of Tom Riddle. He already possesses the vessel necessary to contain a human soul."

Salazar nodded, matching his great granddaughter's smile with a devious one of his own.

"And you have the knowledge to make this come to pass?" He asked.

"That is why I am here Great Grandfather," Zalina replied, "I need certain information only you possess in order to prepare the vessel. It is the only piece of the puzzle I do not know.

"I am aware of the procedure to create a Horcrux and the necessary skills to capture the vessel but I need the incantations to open the vessel from within a human form. This particular vessel was created by mistake. It was formed by the convergence of the killing curse and a form of ancient magic I know not. I must possess that knowledge to proceed."

Salazar's image contemplated for a moment but then he cast a rather sardonic look at his great granddaughter's new lovely features. He thought back over the centuries of all those who had attempted just what this woman intended and all had failed. Even his own attempts at purging the world of the impure had met with ultimate disaster in the end. He was almost certain this time would be no different.

As his eyes took in her rather generous cleavage and curvaceous slender frame a distant memory of something his father had told him once came to the surface of his thoughts. He had asked his father what he thought was the noblest way for a man to meet his fate.

His father's response was, "It is better for a man to die fighting for a worthy cause instead of wasting away pondering his own mortality." He remembered his father had turned and smacked a young servant girl on her pert bottom then turned back to him grinning, "Or perhaps caught in act of defiling a youthful, lusty maiden! Either is acceptable as far as I'm concerned."

He also knew this seemingly gorgeous creature standing before him now possessed magic that belonged to no-one else either before or after his time. He knew her ability to exist across the great expanse of centuries since her birth was bourn out of nothing more than her sheer primal desire to live. It was a remarkable gift and one he wished he could have possessed himself before old age claimed him.

Perhaps this time…

"I will give you the knowledge you seek to help you succeed in your quest Sallispell," Salazar said smiling down at her. "Just out of curiosity, what name are you using these days so when word comes to me I will know it is you they are speaking of?"

Zalina smiled that rather dark devious grin of hers.

"It is a name even you could be proud of Great Grandfather…"

She pulled her wand and turned away from his image. With a well practiced hand she carved her name in a thin flaming script in mid-air. Three words appeared there suspended in front of the portrait.

Zalina Sheryl Star…

"Very appropriate my child. It has a very sensual sound when spoken." he grinned.

She looked at her great grandfather over her shoulder playfully and with a swish of wand and free hand crossed one over the other.

As they watched the flaming letters began re-arranging themselves to form two words instead of three.

The painted image of the Hogwarts Co-Founder gaped in wonder and with great pleasure at what he saw…

Salazar Slytherin.

"Brilliant my darling," Salazar beamed, "however I have heard there was another who possessed the same talent, yes?"

His great granddaughter's faced darkened ever so slightly but she smiled up at him just the same.

"Who do you think taught him how to do it?"

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