Unofficial Portkey Archive

Harry Potter and the Gilded Portrait

Standard Disclaimers Apply…

Chapter Thirty Five - Remembering

Hermione sat watching the big fat fluffy snow flakes flutter down past the window across from her over-stuffed velvet chair she had strategically placed beside the large roaring stone fireplace in the Gryffindor common room.

The sky outside the window was turning the deep bruise shade of purple as a thick white blanket covered the Forbidden Forrest and Scottish Highlands beyond. Once again Hagrid's little hut looked like a frosted gingerbread house amidst a winter dreamland.

Memories of past evenings spent in that very spot flitted like Cornish pixies across her mind's eye. She couldn't help but smile. Those memories seemed like they had happened in another lifetime.

She had to escape the Head common room or they would find one and quite possibly two dead bodies there in the morning if she had not left.

Her workload was such she could ill afford another wasted night unable to study but as she sat in what used to be her favorite chair in the spot she had loved in this room she found her mind wandering so much even that was becoming distracting. It was too late to go traipsing through the castle to the library even though she could if she so desired.

She thought of Harry for a moment as the swirling flakes seem to hypnotize her. In a few weeks they would be together again, if only for a short time. His letter telling her Kingsley was giving them a week's break at Christmas was almost too good to be true.

He was coming to visit with old friends and Professors and then they would go spend the balance of the holiday with her mother and father. To say she was excited was the most ridiculous understatement of the decade. The fantasy of spending the night alone with Harry in her Head dorm room sent thrilling tingles all over her much under-appreciated body.

As she sat there completely wrapped within the confines of that very steamy sexual fantasy she heard several students make their way into the common room through The Fat Lady's portrait.

Her naughty thoughts popped like an invisible bubble above her head.

A moment later a rather mussed and disheveled Ron dumped his sodden Quidditch gear on the floor beside the chair he dumped himself in across from hers stretching his long legs out in front of him with a groan and let his head loll back, eyes shut.

Hermione glanced up at him from her Charms paper. Since she had already completed most all of her Advanced Level courses in sixth year the Professors were forced to allow her to study at what were considered Continuing Education or University Level programs and for the first time in her life she had to admit she was being pushed to her academic limits.

Some of her classes, like Astrology, didn't even offer an Advanced Level program so she was forced to simply use her time in class to prepare for her N.E.W.T.s and provide tutoring for those students who were struggling. The bloke sitting across from her had managed to worm his way into most of the classes she tutored in so he got the benefit of her help after all.

She also had to admit he was doing much better then at the beginning of the term. He really was trying hard. At least he was turning in his homework on time even if it was quite lacking more times than not.

She also assisted many of the Professors with grading assignments. If the student body found out about that they would probably riot and have her burned at the stake.

"Tough practice tonight?" Hermione asked with a smirk.

He had complained incessantly about how pathetic the Gryffindor Quidditch team was this year. Being 18 now, Ron really wasn't even supposed to be on the team but since they could barely find enough who wanted to play the staff made concessions for all the teams. The poor Hufflepuffs were still one beater short.

Everyone seemed much more interested in the new and improved Dueling Club. It was now the most popular extra-curricular activity in Hogwarts. Even Ron had tried his hand but was quickly put out in the first round by a clever little fifth year Ravenclaw girl. He was still plenty sore about that.

"My sister's a bloody tyrant!" Ron moaned, "Now she has us doing…what did she call them? Callystentics…callowsentrics…I don't bloody remember!"

"I think they're called calisthenics," Hermione chuckled, "So what's wrong with that? She wants you all physically fit and in good shape. Merlin you make it sound like you're being tortured or something."

"I swear I think it is bloody torture," Ron quipped, "I saw that old gas bag Filch watching us cackling like a mad man. He was probably taking notes!"

"Well I for one think it a brilliant idea," she replied.

Ron lifted his head glaring at her.

"You would!" Ron said then raised one eyebrow, "Say, what are you doing here anyway? Come to slum with us lower life forms?"

"Don't be stupid Ronald," Hermione growled, "It's Luna! I swear I can't get a moment's peace when she's around…and she's always around! It seems like she spends more time in our Head common room than anywhere else!"

"Talking your ear off, is she?"

"What…no," Hermione sneered, "I wish. Neville made the horrible mistake of telling her she could sing like a canary! Ugh! Sounds more like Peeves beating the crap out of Mrs. Norris if you ask me. Now she flitters about the place shrieking like a bleeding banshee!"

Ron was laughing so hard he had tears running down his cheeks.

"Glad you're amused by my suffering," Hermione grumbled, "Well don't be surprised if you hear about two Hogwarts student who go mysteriously missing over the next few days. Just promise me you'll let Harry know so he can break me out of Azkaban!"

"Look Hermione," Ron said still laughing, "You don't have to be that flamboyant about it. Just secretly slip a silencing hex on her or something. That should settle things, at least for a bit anyway."

She gave him a pointed glare.

"Since when did you become so devious Ron?"

"Me!" He said surprised, "What are you on about witch? I learned it from you!"

"What," Hermione recoiled, "Don't be ridiculous!"

"Really," Ron smiled brightly, "Let's ask Cormac McLaggen about that shall we. He's just gone upstairs."

Hermione reddened instantly and gave Ron an evil slit-eyed stare.

"Don't you even…" She pointed her quill at is nose.

"Oh cork it Ms. Head-Girl-High-Inquisitor!" Ron replied cackling wanting to change the subject, "So what's your assessment of our new Transfiguration professor?" He asked that waggling his eyebrows several times.

"Honestly?" Hermione replied, "I really like her teaching style. I enjoy her no-nonsense approach to our practical lessons and she's very competent. Pity you can't seem to stay out of trouble long enough to realize that. "

"Amusing you shameless little suck-up but I agree!" Ron said with a devious grin, "She's got style that one."

"Umm…hmm," Hermione gave him a droll look, "Not to mention 38 double D's."

"Why Hermione Jean Granger," Ron said in affected pain putting a hand over his heart, "you wound me! To know you think I'm that shallow…"

"Certainly not Mr. Weasley," she smirked, "It's just a random coincidence every bloke in the school has queued up to take her classes."

"She is popular with the lads, no doubt," Ron said matter-of-factly, nodding.

They sat and talked comfortably for what seemed like hours. To Hermione it felt like wrapping herself in an old soft and familiar blanket. It had been so long since she had felt this way. She got little work done but for the first time in her life as a student…she didn't care.

She could tell Ron was feeling something similar because even when they fell silent for a moment she could see his mind working to stretch the comforting familiarity as far as he could. He didn't seem to want it to end…and neither did Hermione.

To her, this was like coming home. It was like taking a deep and calming breath as a long-forgotten moment of serenity settled around them. The rest of the common room and the other students within seemed to disappear as they sat there talking about simple things. There was only one thing missing and they were both acutely aware what it was. It was Ron who finally breached the subject.

"Heard from Harry lately?"

"Yes, actually," Hermione smiled, "I finally got a letter from him. They only allow mail in or out on Fridays it seems. If that wasn't enough you've got to address everything to Kingsley…oh, excuse me, Commander Shacklebolt care of the Ministry! "

"You're joking?" Ron asked amazed by that bit of new, "It sounds like they've got the bloke under lock and key or something."

"Well apparently they're serious about the security and secrecy of whatever this program is. They are going to give them a week off over the Christmas holiday. He's coming here first for a day or two."

Ron sat up straighter.

"That's brilliant Hermione!" Ron beamed.

"After, I want to spend some time with my mother and father and I want them to get to know Harry better," Hermione said wistfully, "I feel I've lost touch with them so much over the years and I want to fix that. I need to make up for lost time but I don't think I'll ever be able to catch up."

Ron sat lost in reflection for a moment staring into the fire. Thoughts of Cassandra swirled around in his head as he sat there trying to come to terms with his own desires. He looked up seriously at Hermione for a moment.

"You and he are getting pretty serious aren't you?"

Hermione straightened a bit. They hadn't breached the subject since their talk on the train.

"Yes Ron," Hermione said softly, "You were right what you said on the train. I think things turned out just as they were supposed to. I'm not saying that to hurt you…"

Ron held up his hand to stall her.

"It's alright Hermione," Ron smiled sadly, "I'm glad you've found some happiness. I know Harry is and that's good, yah?"

"Yes," Hermione smiled, "It's a very good thing."

"Can I ask you something?" Ron inquired looking at his hands thoughtfully for a moment.

"Of course," Hermione replied a bit curiously. She rarely ever saw Ron looking so serious.

"How do you know when you truly love someone," he asked glancing up at her with doleful eyes. It made Hermione's heart pinch, "I mean, don't get me wrong…I have my own theories but…"

Hermione was taken aback for a moment. It wasn't like this boy to ask deep and esoteric questions like that.

"It's just that…I'm not sure if I really know or understand what love is or how it really works," he continued, "How do you know when what you feel for someone is true love or just…something else?"

Suddenly Hermione understood what he was asking but why he was asking her she had no clue but then it dawned on her.

Because you're friends you dolt! You've known one-another for half your lives. There's almost nothing you don't know about Ronald Bilius Weasley but in kind he knows so very little about you. You should be shocked he hasn't asked you all kinds of personal questions over the years. You've been so emotionally closed off from everyone for so long…even your closest friends! And yet…they still trust you!

That realization made her feel slightly uncomfortable. She sat back and thought about his question seriously for a moment. How did one recognize true love? She knew what she felt for Harry was real and true because it had been there all along, buried under years of denial, the struggles of their daily lives and the ignorance of youth.

…But what exactly made love true?

As she sat there lost in the depths of her mind she was suddenly hit with a rather strange but profound epiphany that seemed to come completely out of the blue. She looked at Ron with a sad smile.

"I'm certainly no expert on the subject Ron. You of all people should know that but if I had to make an educated guess I would quantify true love like this…"

"Love, you know like what we feel for our friends and family and the like…is something different for everyone. There isn't one specific element to categorize it. I think that type of love is something that we find outside ourselves and it grows like a living thing. It gets stronger the longer we are around the people we care about and we possess the ability to share it with others."

"True love, in my humble opinion, is something that comes from within. It's something that exists inside us all but needs a specific catalyst to bring it out…like that one special person we were meant to be together with or the one that fits us best. I think true love is rare. Not many of us find it and when we do it's more precious than anything else in the world. Does that make any sense?"

Ron sat gaping at her open-mouthed. It took him a moment to snap out of his silly stupor.

"Merlin's beard, Hermione!" Ron replied, "You really are the most intelligent person I've ever known! That makes perfect sense!" He stopped and considered a thought for a moment. "Do you think what Harry felt for Ginny was true love?"

Again she thought about that. She had no way of knowing for sure but another unique thought occurred to her.

"I have no idea Ron. You would have to ask Harry that but I'm not sure even he would be able to answer that question honestly. I think when we're young we become so wrapped up crushing on someone it often feels like true love because it's our first or because it's something new and exciting. That doesn't happen to everyone but it happens more than you think. I think you'll agree Viktor Krum and Lavender Brown both, sort-of, fall into that description yes?"

Ron nodded hanging on her every word.

"However, having said that I think we sometimes mistake caring for love. Harry has such an enormous capacity for caring about those around him not only do we take it for granted, we automatically assume it's out of love he does the things he does. You know, like his whole saving people thing. I don't believe it's that complicated. I think he does those things because they're just the right thing to do."

Ron sat quietly absorbing what she said. He tried desperately to apply her logic and common sense to his own life but came up depressingly empty.

"Why so curious about love all of a sudden?" Hermione asked chuckling softly. "One of your Birds want to start nesting with you?"

Ron ignored the jab and just shrugged.

"I don't know…not sure really. I guess I'm just trying to figure out why everyone around me seems to, you know…have someone, someone they have settled down with and I haven't been able to."

"I realize now what happened between me and Lavender and I think even me and Cassandra certainly wasn't true love. I care about them sure but it's not the same thing. I'm not sure it would have been true love even if you and I would have worked out."

That surprised Hermione. Again she sat and thought about it, then replied.

"Well…Ron. I must admit that analogy is certainly erm…interesting but I think I get your point. If my theory on true love is anywhere near correct then I don't think we can go looking for it. It's not something you find…it's more like something that just…happens."

"Yah, I can see that - Makes a lot of sense. Do you think it will happen to me some day?" Ron asked.

He looked so depressed she didn't have the heart to say the first thing that came to her mind;

No Ron! You're too bloody selfish and thick. True love could jump up and smack you across the forehead and you probably wouldn't recognize it!

"Well, being I'm not quite the gifted seer that Trelawney appears to be I'm going to hedge my bets and say I'm fairly confident it will. Just don't expect it to happen with every girl you meet Ron. I think you'll know when it does."

"You know that smacks very close to what Divinations is all about," Ron quipped smirking.

"Divin…balderdash!" Hermione huffed crossing her arms, "Don't be ridiculous!"

"I'm not being ridiculous," Ron said seriously sitting up straighter, "I thought about this a bit when I was locked up at the Minister's mansion. I mean, let's take the Half Blood Prince for one example…"

"Half Blood Prince," Hermione snarled, the memory of that still didn't set well with her. The book was a menace and it almost destroyed her relationship with Harry, "What does that have to do with Divinations?"

"The Potions book itself," Ron replied, "Absolutely nothing."

"Then I don't see your point."

"Of course you don't," Ron smirked, "because it's not that obvious. It's not the book itself Hermione but who ended up with the book."

Hermione raised her hands shaking her head slightly as if asking, `So what!'

"Think back, Hermione. Both Harry and I forgot to bring our potions books to class that day remember…"

Hermione nodded.

"Slughorn told us both to go to the bookshelf and get a loaner book for the day. I chose a brand spanking shiny new copy and Harry selected a ragged mangy old copy for himself…why? There were a few other brand new books lying there Hermione. Why would he choose the old one?"

The wheels were suddenly turning at the implications of what Ron was suggesting. She suddenly smiled.

"That's easy Ron. Harry Potter was raised with the Dursleys!"

"So?" He asked.

"So," Hermione continued, "He never had anything new. It was probably nothing more than the cause and effect of being forced to accept whatever was left over after the rest of them were done with whatever it was Harry needed. He simply chose the hand-me-down copy by habit. Simple human nature in that case," she shrugged her shoulder.

Ron chewed his thumb for a moment deep in thought.

"You make a compelling argument but remember Hermione I'm a product of a hand-me-down life as well. It may have not been the same way but I never had anything new either. Get what I'm saying?"

"That's…erm…well," Hermione had to mull that one over for a moment. He made his own compelling argument.

"So let's just say for argument's sake I had chosen the Half Blood Prince that day and applied all the little tips and tricks to win the Felix Felicis. What would have happened?"

Hermione found herself going back to that day. Harry had used the potion he had won to make Ron believe he could win the Quidditch match - No mystery there, Ron would have used it for that purpose himself probably - Then Harry used it to get Professor Slughorn to reveal…"

"Merlin's beard!" Hermione whispered.

Ron sat back with arms crossed looking very pleased with himself.

"I think you and I are on the same page now, aren't we?" He retorted.

Hermione screwed up her face like she had just tasted something very unpleasant.

"So what, you're trying to convince me this was Fate or Divinations stepping into play there?"

Ron leaned forward.

"All I'm saying is that, just maybe, there are things that are beyond are capability to rationalize with conventional or magical explanations."

"Sorry, not convinced," Hermione grumbled, "because using your same logic Ronald you could also make the case Professor Snape could have set the whole thing up by leaving his potions book there to be found in the first place."

"Maybe," Ron's eyes twinkled in the fire light, "and that just might work if you don't take into consideration Snape decided to accept the D.A.D.A class without gathering up all his things from the Potions lab or left Hogwarts the night he killed Dumbledore without all his personal effects."

"But…but," Hermione was suddenly stumped. Ron clenched his fists in frustration.

"Why can't you just admit there might be a smattering of truth to the concept of Divinations? I mean, why teach it here at all then? Do you really think a wizard like Albus Dumbledore would have kept such a subject if he didn't at least believe it himself…just a little?"

"He…I…," Hermione spluttered, "Oh poo!" she huffed slumping back in her seat. The whole conversation was making her very uncomfortable.

When did Ronald `Thick-As-Mud' Weasley become so bloody introspective?

Then she remembered the remarkable changes in her Harry during their all too brief holiday. The changes in him were profound.

It's because you're all growing up you idiot. All three of you have been through some intense situations over the past seven years. Things like that would change anyone…even you!

Ron smiled, "Having made my points, I think, I still can't understand why they're still letting her teach! We have Firenze now don't we? "

"Well," Hermione responded with a frown, "I guess they still feel sorry for her. I mean, she did spit out the mess that had everyone running in circles all those years ago. She managed to convince Voldemort into believing her nonsense didn't she?"

Ron chuckled but his eyebrows were pinched together.

"It's not funny Ronald," she groused, "You know what happened last time she spit out a bunch of gobbledygook and yes, I still think it's gobbledygook! However, I must admit the whole bloody wizard world was knocked on its side!"

Ron sobered instantly at that statement. People died because of it.

She had not told Ron about the new so-called Prophecy yet but as she sat there trying to absorb his strange line of rationality she realized he trusted her so she should return the favor. Besides, Harry was his friend as well…

Hermione shifted uncomfortably.

"Listen Ronald," she began quietly, looking around them to see if any others were within earshot. The look on her face told Ron this was something important. He leaned closer to her chair, "I'm going to share something with you but you must promise not to say anything to anyone else about this until I've had a chance to discover more about it, clear?"

"Of course Hermione," he replied then raised a hand to swear, "May Dean Thomas' bullocks fall off if he tries shagging my sister."

Her eyebrows flew up into her hairline. She was suddenly struck dumb. She shook her head greatly irritated.

"Why is it that one moment you can have a deep philosophical conversation about something as deep as the mysteries of the magical universe then come off the cuff with something that stupid? I swear Ronald, you act as if you're part toadstool sometimes!"

"Sorry," Ron blushed slightly, "just had to throw that in there."

"Do you know the term…T.M.I. Ronald," Hermione asked still looking a bit shocked.

"Training magical idiots?"

"Too much information, you knotweed!" She groused but couldn't help chuckling.

"Wouldn't have suspected it was something that simple coming from you," he grinned.

"Ron this is serious!" Hermione hissed.

Hermione took a deep breath and told him about the new prophecy the daft old Professor spit out before the term started. She even copied the words down on a slip of parchment for him but spelled it so only he could see it.

Ron sat back groaning covering his face with his hands.

"Merlin's bullocks," he mumbled, "Not again! Why can't these idiots go terrorize someone else for a change, you know, like the United States or Japan or some far-away place like that? Bloody hell, the Yanks would probably love the devious bastard! Make him a bloody moving picture star or something!"

"Do you think it could happen again," Ron asked darkly, "Do you really think Voldemort could find his way back?"

Hermione stared at Ron pointedly for a moment.

"Well," she said soberly, "he did it once didn't he?"

"But how," Ron said with rare intensity, "All the Horcruxes were destroyed! He's dead! We saw him with our own eyes…didn't we?"

An icy chill swept through the room as if someone had flung open a window. The thought of incomprehensible evil returning from the grave left Hermione shrinking within herself. She knew she had managed to decipher enough of the cryptic message to know that whatever was coming - It was pointed right at Harry James Potter…again!

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