Unofficial Portkey Archive

Harry Potter and the Gilded Portrait - Part 3

Standard Disclaimers Apply

Chapter Thirty Four - Errors in Judgment

Hermione sat in Transfiguration class only half hearing Professor Star's lecture on the elemental procedures for changing liquids into solids and using them in a controlled way.

She found herself annoyingly distracted by so many different things coming at her from all sides.

There was her strange yet profound conversation with Draco. There were the stupid phrases of another ridiculous prophecy. There was her constant annoyance with one Ronald Weasley who had come to the realization that since he cannot be kicked out of school because of that ridiculous Decree.

There were her advanced classes. Her work load had increased two-fold since the beginning of the term not to mention she had volunteered to provide tutoring, help in class and help some of the Professors grade lessons from the younger students.

If that wasn't enough the lack of the wonderful physical release Harry provided her was no longer available and the pressure building up inside her was reaching dangerous levels.

If she couldn't let off some pent up frustration with a good toe-curling, mind-blowing Harry/Hermione wonder shag she was simply going to spontaneously combust and quite possibly burn down the entire school!

As she sat staring off into nothingness her eyes fell on a rather large painting on the wall directly behind the Transfiguration Professor's desk. That was something new. She had never seen it before and what was even stranger was that the youthful man sitting in the picture seemed oddly familiar somehow but she could not, for the life of her, think who it might be.

Perhaps it's a relative of Professor Star…her father in his youth?

The young man was rather handsome in a dark and brooding sort of way but he possessed an unmistakable air of arrogance, condescension and pride in his narrow features. He wore a formal black tuxedo complete with cravat and didn't look at all very happy to be sitting for a portrait. He sneered down at them all with barely veiled contempt.

The painting itself didn't look precisely old. It was definitely an original oil and done by a talented artist. The frame was a thick gilded carved wooden thing that appeared almost gaudy if it weren't for the chair the man sat on.

The chair, however, appeared to be antique and looked almost throne-like with its intricate gilded carved wool frame, lion's claw feet, straight upright back and red velvet covered cushions.

The background was of a wall in a room of some unknown location, perhaps a sitting room. There were several portraits on the wall behind the figure but the artist had not bothered to capture much detail in those.

The upper half of the wall was wide vertical stripes of varying shades of green. The lower half was white painted wainscoting and square picture-box trim below the heavy chair rail that separated the two distinctly different designs.

Under the youthful man's feet was the unmistakable rendition of an intricate and obviously expensive Persian rug.

As Hermione studied the painting for a moment she saw the figure's eyes land on her. A strange coldness washed over her as his piercing gaze pinned her with such an utter look of loathing it made the hair on the nape of her neck rise. She tore her eyes away from it. She didn't like the painting at all.

She suddenly realized all the students around her were gathering up their things and heading for the door. When Hermione looked down she realized she had not taken a single note on the lecture they were just given. Her parchment was completely blank.

She moaned putting her hand over her face as she dropped her quill to the table.

Professor Star appeared next to her looking down at Hermione with a quizzical smile. The woman's almost ethereal beauty was a bit intimidating.

"You seemed a bit distracted today Miss Granger," Professor Star said in her usual casual way, "Something bothering you?"

Where do I start!

"I'm sorry Professor," Hermione groaned laying her head down on the table on top of her folded arms, "I can't seem to focus on anything today. I'm useless! Too many things on my mind to sort through at present but that's hardly an excuse for skiving classwork."

"Well, we all have days like that young lady," Professor Star smiled in the way that made boys melt, "even the steadfast and effervescent Hermione Granger. Anything you want to talk about? I'm not sure I'll have the answer but I'm a fairly good listener."

"I'm not sure anyone could understand," Hermione said but then reconsidered.

Professor Star, while young in years seemed to possess a remarkable and keen insight to the practical aspects of not only the application of some very clever Transfiguration effects but also a very common sense approach to life through magic. It was one of the things Hermione respected about this Professor.

Professor Star constantly taught that knowledge was power and the correct application of competent and useful magical skills was important to every witch and wizard's success and for a woman who could probably simply get by on her looks alone, to Hermione that was rather remarkable.

Hermione sat up straight and looked at Professor Star seriously for a moment.

"Professor," she asked, "How much do you know about what happened with Voldemort last year?"

Professor Star's expression didn't change all that much only that she looked off into the depths of the classroom for a moment as if lost in thought and then replied with a slight lilt of one of her slender and graceful shoulders.

"Very little actually," she lied as she settled into a chair across from Hermione, "I was out of the country for most of last year and must say I missed all the…erm…excitement as it were. I was doing research on some useful Occlumency immersion techniques with a very knowledgeable instructor in the Ukraine."

She had actually done that but it was in the late 16^th century.

"What little I do know was gleaned from the usual sources like the Daily Prophet and the few books and publications floating around about the war…why do you ask?"

Hermione shifted slightly uncomfortable with the fact the Professor may have read Ron's book. She was beginning to think she was the only one who hasn't read the stupid thing.

"One of the things that led to the whole confrontation between Harry Potter and Lord Voldemort was the existence of a prophetic statement made by a supposed Seer. It was because of those words Voldemort believed Harry would one day grow up and be powerful enough to stop him…"

Hermione went on to give Professor Star a quick overview of the last seven years of Voldemort's failed attempts at offing Harry to pave his way for complete domination and the evil wizard's ridiculous attempts at finding and possessing immortality.

To Zalina, listening to the completely accurate grasp this little slip of a Muggle had on Tom Riddle's ridiculously flawed plans was astounding.

No wonder why the idiot's dead! He couldn't even get by this silly little mudblood girl!

"So now," Hermione said with an exasperated sigh, pulling out the piece of well-worn parchment the new prophecy was written on, "she's done it again! She's gone and regurgitated this mess!"

Zalina took the parchment from Hermione's outstretched hand and read the words keeping her expression completely even.

Inside, Zalina Sheryl Star was utterly stunned by this revelation but centuries of life and experience had taught her unflinching control of her faculties. She cleared her throat.

"Well, this certainly seems prophetic doesn't it?" She had to force herself to smile, "However," she continued with eyebrows pinched together in affected concentration, "taken at face value one could apply these phrases and produce all sorts of conclusions. Take the first statement for example… `Evil stirs once more in darkness.' If you apply logic to that phrase by itself one could conceivably conclude it speaks about evil itself, not an individual's evil intentions. As far as evil stirring in darkness that isn't much of a stretch. Evil does its best work in the shadowy places of our lives does it not?"

She smiled a rather cynical smile at Hermione who responded with her own grin and nod.

"However," Professor Star continued looking at the parchment with deep concentration on her face nibbling at her thumb, "If you take into consideration the next phrase I can see how the connection could be made to someone like Lord Voldemort seeing how it was speculated he was a direct descendant to Salazar Slytherin and it is well documented the Hogwarts Co-Founder often used the image of a snake in his personal identifications."

"If you combine the first two phrases it's quite possible one could ascertain it is identifying the Dark Lord but it doesn't expressly identify him by name so one could also assume it could be attempting to identify…someone else altogether," she nonchalantly shifted her shoulder again seemingly unconcerned.

"The third phrase, `Ancient's magic within youth disguised,' I must admit is rather intriguing. On one hand it is a very specific statement but on the other it's just as vague as the rest, if that convoluted explanation makes any sense at all."

She smirked, Hermione chuckled,

"It could be telling us, for example, that a very old magical ability is hiding in someone very young or it could be telling us that someone very young is in hiding using ancient magical skills or someone very old is hiding as someone very young using an ancient magical skill," Professor Star grinned, "We could go on and on I suppose. Know anyone who might fit any of those descriptions?"

Hermione thought hard for a moment. The clever and insightful ideas and information this rather youthful Professor was providing her were remarkable. Hermione was beginning to feel much better about her decision to put this before Professor Star. She felt good her initial assessment of the woman had been correct.

"Not off the top of my head," Hermione replied but she couldn't help but be a bit surprised when Draco Malfoy's face popped into her mind. She knew it had already been established that Draco was not a direct descendent of Salazar Slytherin. That was what that whole ridiculous Polly Juice potion thing had been all about when she had inadvertently turned herself into a human version of Millicent Bullstrode's cat. It was still embarrassing to think about.

Merlin, I was so full of myself then!

"Well then," Professor Star sighed, "moving on to the next phrase… `Will unchain the dead from restless slumber'…Rather ominous statement that but I'm not really certain how to apply it to the rest of the message. Is it saying that all the dead in the world will be unchained or just a specific dead person? Rather terrible thought the entire world might be overrun with stinky dead corpses! Yuck!"

Hermione let out a screeching giggle and reached up to quickly cover her mouth.

"Sorry," she said apologizing for her outburst, "It's just the way you said that…"

"Well," Professor Star replied holding up a hand, "You must understand Miss Granger it's a bit difficult for me to take this all that seriously because of the convoluted nature of the entire vague prophetic statement itself. It's a bit self-contradictory in some ways. It simply depends on how you apply its message. It's a lot like magic in a round-about way."

Hermione's eyebrows disappeared.

"Like magic," She asked, "Forgive me but I'm not certain I understand that connection Professor."

"Simple really," Zalina replied, "We believe in magic even though we cannot see what makes the magic work yes? Oh, we can see the energy of a spell or curse leave our wands or the end product of a charm or incantation but whatever the force is that makes it all work is invisible to us…but we still believe in our ability to produce it. It's through knowledge, skill and practice we harness and perfect it, shape it into whatever we need it to be.

"Using that same logic you can shape these phrases to fit just about whatever circumstances you choose to believe and act upon them accordingly to produce the desired outcome, however, by not acting on them at all will it produce the same outcome? Who's to say. It's just like a spell. If one doesn't cast a particular spell correctly one usually doesn't get the results one expects unless it's just blind luck, yes?"

Hermione sat absorbing her declaration and she had to admit her comparison made sense.

"So, what you're saying is if I don't act on this prophecy it won't come true?" Hermione asked.

"Well," Professor Star replied, "Either that or it will happen regardless of what you do. The last phrase seems to be the most damning. It basically states that whatever is supposed to happen will happen when the `Savior' is…dispatched, whoever that may be."

"I'm almost certain I know who that refers to Professor," Hermione said darkly.

"Oh?" Zalina inquired acting as if she had no clue.

"Harry Potter."

"I see," the Professor said. She placed a hand gently on Hermione's arm, "Then I suppose it's a good thing the dead can't be brought back to life isn't it? Voldemort is dead Miss Granger."

It was Hermione's turn to look blankly off into the shadows of the Transfiguration classroom.

"There was a time when I would have believed that without hesitation Professor but the things I've been through over the years have taught me not to underestimate anything when it comes to Voldemort and what he may or may not be capable of."

"The horrors Harry told me of Voldemort's last re-emergence was the stuff of nightmares. I thought it could never get worse than that. I quickly learned how wrong I was when we found out how he was able to do what he did. If most of his key supporters weren't dead I wouldn't be surprised if he left some sort of contingency plan to drag his mutilated soul back from the next great adventure."

"Part of me says, `You're being paranoid Granger' but the rest of me…"

"The rest of you what Miss Granger," the Professor asked.

Hermione sat back and sighed heavily. She suddenly felt very tired, the weight of it all settling on her like a Knight Bus sized block of granite.

"The rest of me wants to grab Harry and run," she looked up into the beautiful face of the young professor and smiled sadly, "but Harry would never do that. He'll stay and face whatever's coming. He'll stand in its path until he prevails or gets run over but…" she paused looking suddenly determined, "That's where I come in. I'll be standing there right beside him making certain he won't get run over."

"That's very loyal of you Miss Granger. Not many would make that kind of sacrifice for a friend."

"Oh Professor," Hermione chuckled, "I cast my lot in with Potter years ago. No reason to change now."

"Indeed," Professor Star said, "So what do you plan to do about this prophecy? Didn't you tell me Harry was sequestered within the Department of Magical Law Enforcement in some top secret program or something?"

"Yes. He's quite safe for now. He sent me a letter telling me they are giving him a week off for the Holiday. He's going to come here for a day or two to visit then I'm going to try and convince him to spend some time with me at my parents. I'm not sure how it will all work out yet though."

"As far as the prophecy…I have no idea. I didn't really act on the last one and things turned out fairly well. We lost too many but we managed to survive despite the odds."

"I suppose I can see your point," Professor Star said rising gracefully to her feet, "At least this time you have all the facts. Last time Voldemort had only part of the total message due to the incompetence of his minions I believe. I wouldn't be surprised if that was the major cause of the idiot's undoing."

Hermione froze. That last comment caused her to pause thinking back over what she had told the Professor about the past encounters with the Dark Lord. She was certain she had not mentioned anything about Voldemort having only the partial prophecy the last time. She had mentioned the previous prophecy but only in the context that it had been different, less clear and not nearly as direct.

She wanted to think maybe the Professor heard it somewhere or perhaps the Headmistress told her and it was quite possible Ron had written about it in his book but she couldn't seem to squelch a sudden feeling of alarm that almost took her breath.

Professor Star excused herself and Hermione proceeded to pack her things and make her way to the Head dormitory. Since Transfiguration was her last class for the day she needed to stow her grip and find Neville. It was her turn for rounds.

---@>---

Once Hermione had left the Transfiguration classroom Zalina slumped back in her chair behind her desk a terrible huff. She couldn't believe the dizzy sherry sodden fraud had done it again!

Impossible! There is absolutely no way Sybill Trelawney is even one-tenth the Seer her grandmother was…UGH! I'll simply have to kill her! This is completely unacceptable!

Tom Riddle was sitting casually in his throne-like chair above her head with one leg draped over the other inspecting his fingernails. She had decided to move his painting to the classroom after she had caught him leering at her again while she was undressing one evening when she had his portrait hanging over the fireplace in her chamber as he had requested. She was getting a bit weary of his constant ogling and snide comments.

"I take it you heard?" She asked without looking up at the painting.

"Indeed," Tom Riddle's image sighed still looking haughty and bored, "The little mudblood certainly had the gist of things didn't she?"

"And you wonder why you failed! Ugh…I simply cannot wrap my mind around how stupid and arrogant you were!"

"Don't get your thong in a pinch darling. You're going to correct those mistakes shortly aren't you?"

Zalina stopped and turned, glaring up at him dangerously for a moment.

"Thong!" She groused, "I wouldn't get caught dead in one of those ridiculously appalling torture devices! Whatever sadistic bastard invented those things needs to be disemboweled, drawn and quartered, beheaded and the pieces run through a wood chipper!"**

"Indeed!" Young Tom Riddle quipped, "It's usually to ones who look dreadful in the sexy garments who protest against them the loudest. I, for one, think you'd look smashing in a nice lacy black one but…oh well, you are a bit hippy for such a thing."

Zalina's eyes went wide and her mouth fell open in shock as she stared at the painting for a moment. Even being as sexually liberated as she thought she was there was no way she was going to put up with that kind of nonsense from a smarmy oil painted little tosspot. Her eyes went to dangerously narrow slits and she spit a warning through gritted teeth.

"I'll thank you to leave my dainties out of all further discussions in the future you filthy despicable Cretan. We have much more important things to discuss…"

"What is it this time?" Riddle huffed as if he were terribly bored, "Let me guess," he placed a raised finger next to his cheek rolling his eyes up in affected thoughtfulness, "Potter leaving the country? No…then perhaps he's been chosen as the next Minister for Magic?" He enjoyed goading her ire immensely.

"NO…you idiot," Zalina hollered, "Do shut up! Gods I should just incinerate you and find another way to take over this ridiculous world," she put her hand to her forehead, "You undoubtedly heard what the torrid little snot said about Potter, didn't you? He's going to be here for a few days during the sappy Muggle Christmas holiday and it just might be our only chance to snatch him and see if this plan will work."

"Oh yes," Riddle sneered, "because your plan has been utterly flawless so far!"

Zalina twitched. She forced herself to remain calm reminding herself her situation was only temporary. Once Voldemort was reanimated and the present regime falls (and she hoped it wouldn't take long) she would re-dispose of this moron after she was finished with him. It was simply tragic he had no clue.

"Then I suppose it's just as well I don't really care about what you think but as it is the situation may be even more complicated…"

Zalina reiterated about the new prophecy and her thought the mudblood would be watching closely because of it.

"Why don't you just do away with her," Riddle spit, "She's nothing but a nuisance and she's potentially standing in my way of returning and ultimate immortality! Kill the little wench!"

"Typical," Zalina huffed, "In your usual thoughtless stupidity you fail to see the big picture. I can't kill the mudblood yet. Too many would notice. You don't kill a Queen when she's sitting on her throne in the midst of her court."

Riddle stood uneasily pacing back and forth across the canvas from frame to frame.

"Have you at least been able to create the incantations necessary to pull this off if you ever do get your hands on Potter?"

"Yes," Zalina hissed as she turned on her heel and made her way into her chambers, "but for now I'm going to shower, change and go to dinner. I've had quite enough of you for this evening."

---@>---

The strange feelings that struck her while talking with Professor Star lingered with Hermione the rest of that evening and she found herself lost in introspection as she made her rounds.

After bumping into the Headmistress in a hallway on her way to her office after dinner she discovered her mentor had not said anything to the Transfiguration Professor about either prophecy. When McGonagall inquired why she had asked such a question Hermione played it off that she was just following up on a hunch.

As she made her way through the castle she was glad things were relatively quiet. Several Hogwarts portraits pointed her to a young fifth year couple hiding behind a tapestry on the fourth floor and it wasn't very difficult to find them because the girl was making so much noise giggling she had even attracted Peeves attention.

"Must I even say it?" Hermione said with arms crossed tapping her foot on the stone floor.

The young couple fled for their lives.

As she made her way past the Fat Lady's portrait she decided to ask Ron if he had written anything about the original prophecy in his book. She realized it was two in the morning but she thought it a little retribution for all the trouble he was causing for her and the rest of the staff with his antics.

She made her way silently into the boy's dorm and slipped into Ron's chamber as noiselessly as a Hogwarts ghost. When she reached his bed she knew he would probably make enough noise to wake Dumbledore's corpse so she place a silencing charm around his four-poster.

Sitting on the edge she shook him hard enough to startle him awake. He came up spluttering, blinking wildly into the darkness of the room looking around wildly.

"Wha'…who…wuz no' me…didn't do…"

Hermione sat waiting patiently until he regained some semblance of coherency before she tried to talk to him. When he shook his head and gaped at her blinking she finally smirked at him.

"Surprise!" she whispered.

He jerked the covers up to his chin with wide eyes.

"Merlin's left bullock, what the bloody hell are you doing here?"

"I have some questions I need to ask you," Hermione said grinning. She was enjoying Ron's discomfort.

"And this couldn't wait till morning because…" Ron grumbled. He yawned widely.

"Because I don't want anyone knowing I talked to you," she replied.

"Well you best hope the rest of these blokes don't wake up. The gossip it will cause…"

She rolled her eyes.

"Like I care," she snickered, "Listen, this is serious. I need to ask you about your book…"

"Why don't you just read it Hermione? What is your problem with my book?" Ron huffed crossing his arms, "You're like a bloody…psychotic book-o-phile or something - never met a book you didn't like but mine…" he threw his hands up.

"Call it a protest," she replied seriously, "Start acting like a human and I may consider reading it."

"Whatever," he yawned again, "what do you want to know? You interrupted a very pleasant and very naughty dream about…"

"Finish that statement Weasley and I'll crack your ickle twins like walnuts!"

"How did you get so bloody frigid woman? I don't see how Harry can stand it."

"I'm. Not. Frigid," she said dangerously, "I simply have no desire to hear about your sordid fantasies about our Transfiguration Professor!"

Ron smirked, his eyes twinkling in the darkness.

"It's scary how well you know me. Ask already so I can go back to sleep. Some of us actually do that you know. I swear you must have a Vampire in your family tree somewhere!"

"Very amusing," Hermione said flatly but then sighed and asked him basically the same questions she had asked the Headmistress. After he informed her he had not written much at all about the first prophecy she looked worried.

"What's so important about that old nonsense? I didn't think you put much stock in what the old bat said anyway."

"I have my reasons and that's all I can say for now."

It was Ron's turn to roll his eyes.

"Go away…please!" He grumbled falling back into his pillows and pulling the covers up to his ear.

Hermione chuckled patting him on the shoulder.

"Thanks."

She turned to go but stopped when she heard him call out quietly.

"Hermione," he asked in a pitiful voice.

"Yes Ronald," she asked smirking at his prone form all tucked under his covers.

"Bwing me a dwink of wa wa…pweety pweeze," he sighed.

"You'll just pee the bed," Hermione chuckled, shaking her head as she made her way back out of the boy's dorm and on to finish her rounds even more troubled.

** - A.N. This little exchange was prompted by one of my readers who commented previously on her attitude toward the feminine garment known as the `thong.' While I personally don't really have an opinion one way or the other about the garment I must admit, from a horribly hedonistic male's point of view, I think they are sexy when utilized on the correct body type (I can't help but think of 300 pound woman trying to {shudders involuntarily} squeeze into spandex like so much pork sausage). Of course, that being said, I've never worn one so I don't really know how uncomfortable they are or not! Several lady-friends say they like to wear them and one says she wears them all the time…and trust me, she looks smashing in one, I must say! She tells me they make her feel sexy (not that she needs much help with that) and just a bit naughty so…I find myself quite reluctant to complain! Cheers!

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