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Harry Potter and the Picture Of Innocence

Quickdraw

Brian Hendrickson Normal Brian Hendrickson 49 517 2002-06-16T08:19:00Z 2003-09-07T18:49:00Z 9 5958 33961 283 67 41706 9.3821 1

DISCLAIMER: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

AUTHOR'S NOTES: Thanks to Haggridd for his most excellent Beta skills and steadfast moral support.

*****

"HARRY POTTER AND THE PICTURE OF INNOCENCE"

CHAPTER FIVE:

"I Wonder Who's Kissing Her Now?"

Sirius Black dropped another golden Galleon into the old woman's hand.

"Thank 'ee, sir!" She reached into the pocket of her apron and produced a set of keys. "I think what you're lookin' for is right in 'ere, sir."

Cobwebs hung heavy from the rafters of the old attic. The clutter from over a century of previous occupants was stuffed into every conceivable nook and cranny. The crone pulled an old sheet from a pile of bric-a-brac, raising a cloud of dust that made Sirius nearly choke.

"I think this is what you're wantin', sir!" Beneath the sheet were a rusted coffee can filled with old paintbrushes, a few half-used sketchpads and a couple of blank canvases, yellowed with age. "Nobody ever come to claim 'is things when 'e-Well, you know, Sir."

"Thank you, Mrs. Cobblepot." Sirius picked up one of the blank canvases. Underneath was a half-completed watercolor sketch of a kitten. The kitten looked up and mewed at him.

"'E 'ad talent, that one. No doubt of it."

"Do you remember what happened to him, Mrs. Cobblepot?"

"They say it were poison, but if you asks me, it were a broken 'eart what really done 'im in, poor pet."

Sirius was flipping through the sketchbook past bucolic landscapes and fruited still-lifes when he came upon a simple but elegant charcoal sketch of a woman's face.

"That's 'er! She were the one! You don't ever forgets a face like that, sir-nor 'er name, for I heard him moanin' it in 'is sleep often enough… 'Gwendolyn'."

*****

"Would you like me to sing for you, Harry?" Gwendolyn asked, breaking his train of thought. "It seems to be the about only helpful thing I can do right now."

"Alright, Gwen, Go ahead," Harry sighed, if only to keep his imagination from running wild and conjuring up more and more horrible potential fates for his missing Hermione. Harry paused at the entrance to Hogwart's Southeast Tower and took a deep breath, leaning the portrait of Gwendolyn Catherine Marie Dubois leaned against the doorjamb.

This would be the longest walk of his life.

Knowing he'd never be able to lug the nearly six-foot tall canvas and its heavy frame all the way up to the seventh floor, he aimed his wand and levitated it into the air. The girl in the picture looked down at him with what appeared to be sincere concern. As much as Harry held her responsible for all that had happened over the past few days, he realized that she had absolutely no control over what was about to take place. Softly, she began to sing. Whatever else you could say about Gwendolyn, she did have a beautiful singing voice.

"I wonder who's kissing her now,

Wonder who's-"

"Not that one, Gwen," Harry interrupted, "not right now."

"Of course. Sorry about that Harry." Gwendolyn dabbed her painted silk handkerchief at the tears forming in her painted eyes. "I swear, I never meant for any of this to happen. All I ever wanted was what any girl wants. I wanted to go to wonderful parties. I wanted dashing young men like you to ask me to dance." Perhaps Gwen was simply flirtatious by nature, but it seemed as though she had been dropping hints in his direction ever since they'd met-but with Hermione missing and possibly in mortal danger, Harry wasn't the least bit interested. "I wanted to know what it was to fall in love… Is that really so terrible?" Put like that it didn't sound all that unreasonable-but Harry knew the ugly truth. Gwendolyn's dream could only come true at the cost of another human life-Hermione's.

"You lied, Gwen. You lied to my father, you lied to me, and you lied to Ron." He glanced down at the scrap of parchment clutched in his hand. One of the school owls had delivered it to Harry shortly after Hermione was reported missing. It read simply:

"Bring Gwendolyn and the books back to the tower.

Come alone OR ELSE!"

Harry crumpled the parchment in his hand. His thoughts raced back to that final confrontation in the Hospital Wing with the outraged Potions Master...

"Out of the question, Potter!" Professor Snape declared.

"I'm afraid I am forced to agree, Harry," Dumbledore added. "You are in no shape to--!"

"He's got Hermione!" Harry growled through clenched teeth. He could barely see through the tears in his eyes. Inside his head it was as though he were someone else watching himself in disbelief as he snarled at his friend and mentor Professor Dumbledore.

"At your age," Snape said with a sardonic smile, " it's not terribly smart to be putting all your romantic eggs, shall we say, in one basket-but that is a discussion for another day."

Harry's wand was pointed right between Snape's eyes. Clearly the boy was in no mood for levity. In his present state, Snape knew he was capable of almost anything. "Get out of my way, Professor!"

"If it's the last thing I do on this Earth, Potter, I'm going to prove once and for all that there's something at least resembling a brain inside that that thick skull of yours! Anger is a weapon only to one's opponent. If you go charging up there in this condition, you'll be cut to pieces."

"Since when do you care what happens to me?"

"I don't-except insofar as it reflects on my own reputation as a teacher. If you get yourself killed, people would assume that somehow it was my fault because I had not adequately prepared you. Can you imagine? A brilliant career destroyed by one student's rash stupidity! That is completely unacceptable, Mr. Potter. I simply will not allow it!"

"Please, Harry!" Ginny Weasley beseeched him. Harry's expression softened for just a second at young Ginny's pleas. Then in a lightning-fast motion he grabbed a bottle of elixir from a nearby table and smashed it onto the floor. A plume of bright purple smoke filled the room.

"Hodie adsit, cras absit!" Harry cried out. There was a flash of lightning and a crack of thunder. When the smoke had cleared, Harry, the forbidden library books and the painting of Gwendolyn were all gone.

The reappeared near the door to Moaning Myrtle's lavatory.

"How did you do that, Harry?" Gwendolyn asked. "I thought it was impossible to Apparate at Hogwarts."

"So did I." Harry grinned, quite pleased with himself.

Gwendolyn's voice echoed eerily through the stone corridors, reflecting back as almost ghostly wails.

"After the ball is over,

Just at the break of dawn,

After the dance is ended,

And all the stars are gone…"

As he climbed the stairs to the southeast tower, the pieces of this weird jigsaw puzzle floated around inside Harry's head, but no matter how he arranged them, they just didn't seem to fit together.

"Many the heart that's aching,

If you could read them all.

Many the fond hope that's vanished,

After the ball."[1]

As they reached the collapsed staircase, Harry thought he heard a noise. He set down Gwendolyn's portrait and carefully moved to investigate.

"Lumos!"

As he reached the edge of the precipice he saw what appeared to be a pair of very finely crafted dragonshide gloves-with their owner still inside them.

"Potter?" came a familiar voice. Lucius Malfoy was dangling over the abyss, barely hanging on by his perfectly manicured fingernails. "Don't just stand there gaping you idiot! Help me up!" Harry cast a quick levitation spell on Malfoy pere and set him down gently on the landing. He was holding his arm and wincing in pain. His face was scratched and bleeding and his right ankle was turned slightly in an unnatural position, preventing him from standing.

"What happened?"

"Someone shoved me over the edge when I wasn't looking, of course!" he growled. "Or did you think I was doing my daily arm-stretching exercises?" He carefully sat himself down on the stone floor, doing his best to avoid putting any weight on his twisted ankle. "I know what you're thinking, Potter," he finally said. "I may not be the greatest father in the world, but I know my son would never attack me-any more than he would attack Professor Snape-or your friend, Miss Granger. When he first mentioned this new girl he was seeing I thought was a wonderful idea. Quite honestly I thought he was developing a rather unhealthy fixation on that mudbl-" If Harry had been from Krypton, the glare he was giving Lucius at that moment would have burned a hole clean through him. "I had no idea it was Gwendolyn." He winced in pain as Harry tried to examine his arm. "Be careful, you clumsy fool!"

"I don't think anything's broken, but I have a feeling you've dislocated your elbow. Your ankle looks none too good as well." Harry took out his wand and cast a quick charm. "This should dull the pain a little until Madam Pomfrey can have a look at you." He got up and dusted of his pants. "I have to go. If you can't make it down by yourself, I'll give you a hand on my way back, assuming…"

The senior Malfoy could see that Harry's anger at Draco and his fears for Hermione were talking far louder than logic at this moment, but he felt he had to try once more. "Ask yourself one thing, Potter; why abduct Miss Granger in full view of Miss Chang and Miss Weasley-not only incriminating himself in front of witnesses, but forcing him to fight off the two of them as well as struggle with her? Why not wait until she was alone?"

"Maybe he's just gone mad."

Lucius nodded. "Granted, it's not entirely without precedent in our family… But even if he had taken complete leave of his senses, do you suppose even the Malfoy money could protect him once he had practically announced to the world that he was a kidnapper-possibly a rapist-even a murderer?"

"But Madam Lenore-"

"She's winding you up, Potter. I don't know exactly how, but I'll wager you she's mixed up in all this."

Harry's brain was overloading. "I have to go." He aimed his wand at himself and levitated past the gap in the stairs. He then levitated Gwendolyn's portrait.

"Potter?" There was something about the tone of Lucius' voice that made Harry stop. "If I'm wrong… If it turns out that my son really has… I can't imagine that he would want to spend the rest of his life at St. Mungo's… I know you and Draco have never been friends, but-"

"What exactly are you asking, Mr. Malfoy?"

"I'm simply pointing out that mercy can take many forms, Mr. Potter."

*****

As Harry and Gwendolyn reached the seventh floor and approached the abandoned classroom, they heard what sounded like an explosion followed by the sounds of glass crashing and a shower of crystal fragments. In his mind, Harry pictured Malfoy fil making a mistake with the potion to make Gwendolyn human and blowing himself and Hermione to Kingdom Come. Harry gently levitated Gwendolyn to the floor and leaned her against the wall. The door wouldn't budge so he aimed his wand at the lock.

"Alohamora!"

Harry kicked in the door and dropped into a crouch, wand extended.

"It's okay, Harry," called a familiar voice, "I got 'im."

"Ron?"

One of the great lead-glass windows had shattered, a few shards of glass were scattered around the room, but most of it seemed to have fallen outside. The youngest Weasley brother stood with an enormous grin on his freckled face. In his hand was his broom and at his feet lay the prostrate body of Draco Malfoy. Behind them, an unconscious Hermione was tied to one of the tables like the heroine of an old silent movie, ready to be sawn in half. A large cauldron brewed on a small fire in one corner of the room.

Harry threw his arms around his old friend, and then tousled his flaming red hair. He had never been so happy to anyone in his entire life.

"But you were still unconscious!"

"I woke up right after you left. Fred and George filled me in, and here I am. I wasn't going to let that little creep get away with hurting my two best friends-besides, why should you two have all the fun?""

"But how'd you get up here so fast?"

"Broomstick of course! I just yelled 'Accio Broomstick!' You know, it had never worked for me before! I knew Malfoy would be too busy looking for you to watch the windows." They embraced again

"You took a big chance, Ron."

"I kinda felt I owed it to you after all the trouble I'd caused." He gave Harry an embarrassed smile. "I've been a world-class prat. Can you forgive me, Harry?"

"Ron Weasley, right now I could forgive you for almost anything!"

Harry moved to Hermione's side and began untying her bonds.

"Let's hope you mean that," Ron muttered under his breath.

"I knew you'd come for me." Still groggy from the sleep spell, Hermione slid her arms around Harry's neck and snuggled against his chest as if she'd simply fallen asleep in his arms after making love. "I knew my white knight would rescue me."

"White knight?" Ron looked a little offended. "Well I like that! So what am I then, Sir Harry? Ye olde chopped liver?"

"You, Squire Ron, are the best friend a white knight could ever have."

"Don't mention it."

"Love me again, Harry," Hermione sighed.

Ron couldn't resist a smirk. "Is she always this randy? Hope you're taking your vitamins, son."

"Hermione?" Harry's voice was full of trepidation. "Did Malfoy-Did he hurt you?"

"She's fine, Harry!" Ron gently reassured him. "If Malfoy had done anything like that to her, she wouldn't be having such sweet dreams." Ron gathered up the stolen books and stacked them on the table. "Go on! Get her downstairs! Madam Pomfrey will snap her out of it, then you two can get back to snogging as usual."

Harry hesitated.

"Go on! I'll bring Gwen down when I finish up here!"

"Thanks, Ron!" Harry cast a small levitation spell on Hermione so he wouldn't have to lug her full weight down seven flights of stairs. He took her in his arms and held her close for a moment, then started back the way they'd come. They were half way down the first flight of stairs when Harry heard Gwendolyn's voice.

"Ron? Ron? What are you doing?" From her tone, obviously something was wrong.

"Shhhhh!"

"Harry!" she yelled. "Harry! Come back!"

When Harry returned the classroom, Gwendolyn's portrait had been re-hung on the far wall. Ron had slung the unconscious Draco over his shoulder and had unceremoniously dumped him on the table where Hermione had been bound. He was gathering up the ropes that bound her and had begun tying down Malfoy's wrists.

"Ron? What are you doing?"

"Just go, Harry." Ron ordered. "Just take Hermione and go."

"What are you going to do?" Harry gently set Hermione down by the door. Her eyes had opened and she was starting to return to reality.

"You don't need to know, Harry. Just pick up Hermione and leave now!"

Behind Ron's back, Gwendolyn was gesturing toward the still simmering cauldron. Suddenly it all became clear. "You're going to use Malfoy instead of Hermione to free her from the painting!"

"It's perfect, Harry!" With a flick of Ron's wand, the fire under the cauldron to flared to life. He opened the book to the proper page and began lighting the candles. "We kill two birds with one stone! I can release Gwendolyn and get rid of a major pain in the arse at the same time! I'll just say that he tried to finish the spell and it backfired on him!"

"What about his father? You think Lucius Malfoy will buy that?"

"You think I give a basilisk's elbow what Lucius Malfoy believes?"

"Ron, the Malfoys have just enough money and power to be really dangerous-plus they already have it in for the Weasleys!"

"I'm willing to take that risk, Harry! You don't have to be involved in any way. In fact, the less you know the better off you are. Just take Hermione and go!" He began chanting in Latin. "Parce cucumeris frustis, parce lactucae! Mandata pecularia nobis non sunt oneri..."

"Ron, I can't let you do this."

"Harry, we're talking about Draco Malfoy! Remember? The snotty nosed little rich kid who's dedicated his life to making everyone else's miserable? I'll bet you a gross of chocolate frogs his dad can't stand the little bastard any more than we can!" He continued to chant. "Parce cucumeris frustis, parce lactucae! Mandata pecularia nobis non sunt oneri..."

"It's still murder, Ron," came Hermione's groggy voice from the doorway.

"You think so?" Ron was growing more and more agitated. "Well, I call it preventive medicine! There'll be one less Death Eater to deal with when You-Know-Who finally makes his move!" He was almost pleading. "You know I'm right, Harry! No matter what old Dumbledore thinks, he's going to turn on us the first chance he gets!" He chanted more intently. "Parce cucumeris frustis, parce lactucae! Mandata pecularia nobis non sunt oneri..."

"Please Ron," Gwendolyn implored. "It's not worth it. If being released means sacrificing another person's life, I'd rather stay as I am!"

"You don't know what you're saying, Gwen! You don't know this character is like! I do! Believe me, we'll be doing the world a favor!"

"It's not your call to make, Ron." Harry's wand pointed directly at his best friend's heart.

"Harry…!" Ron stammered. "C'mon, Harry! You wouldn't…?"

"You're my best friend in the entire world, Ron," Harry said, but his words held no warmth. The voice that spoke them was cold and severe. "But I can't just stand by and let you murder another human being-not even Draco Malfoy."

Has it come to this? Harry thought. Must I now kill my best friend to save the life of my second-worst enemy? Was that what Madam Lenore meant about someone close to me being sacrificed? No! There has to be another way!

Ron suddenly pointed his wand above Harry's head. The big iron chandelier came crashing down in a cascade of green sparks. Harry just managed to leap out of the way. Ron took the opportunity to roll behind the rotting teacher's desk. Another blast sent Harry diving for cover behind an overturned table. Hermione scrambled out into the corridor and drew her own wand to give Harry covering fire.

"Boys!" called Gwendolyn over the din of battle, "Please! You must stop this!"

"Be reasonable, Harry!" Ron yelled, "Remember what Madam Lenore told you about Draco's little fantasies? If I hadn't conked him when I did, Merllin only knows what he would've done to Hermione before he killed her!"

Madam Lenore? Harry suddenly had a thought. In one corner of the room stood a large wooden cupboard. I wonder… Harry leveled a blast at the cupboard, knocking it over onto the cauldron. The contents of the cauldron spread out across the floor and the cupboard itself touched the flames and ignited. From inside the cupboard came a woman's scream. Startled, Ron screamed in perfect unison with her, then quickly regained his composure and fired at Harry, knocking him off his feet.

"Harry!" Hermione gasped. Fueled by her own growing rage, Hermione's blast splintered the teacher's desk, caught Ron squarely in the chest and flung him into the blackboard. The slate shattered like blackened chunks of peanut brittle as Ron's limp body crumpled to the floor. Hermione quickly rushed to Harry's side and cradled him in her arms. She was actually relieved to hear him groaning in pain. At least he was alive. In between her own sobs, Hermione could hear Gwendolyn calling out.

"Ron? Harry? Can you hear me?" They were both out of her line of sight, so she moved as far as she could toward the edge of her frame. "Hermione? Are they all right? Please don't let them both be dead because of me…!"

"Harry's alive," Hermione sobbed, "But I think I've killed Ron!"

"Your friend will not die," came a booming voice from the doorway. With a very theatrical gesture, Professor Snape cast aside Harry's Invisibility Cloak. "Because I will not allow-LET GO OF MY LEG, YOU REVOLTING LITTLE CREATURE!"

Dobby, the house elf was holding on to Snape's trouser leg for dear life. Once the Invisibility Cloak was cast aside, Dobby rubbed his eyes and looked around.

"Mister Harry Potter, Sir!" The little elf ran up to Harry and began jumping for joy. "Dobby is now knowing that Professor Snake is not lying! Professor Snake really is bringing Invisibility Cloak to Harry Potter! Dobby is sorry he is not believing Professor Snake!"

Ignoring Dobby's tirade, Snape reached into his robes and withdrew two small glass vials, one containing a pink liquid, the other green. Popping the stoppers out with his thumbs, he poured the contents of one into the other. As he strode across the room, the mixture turned a bright turquoise. He grabbed Ron by the chin and poured the liquid down his throat.

Harry and Hermione managed to help each other to stand. It was then that Snape noticed the overturned cauldron and the spilled potion. He tossed another vial of white powder into the fire, instantly extinguishing it. A woman in a burgundy robe lay unconscious in the remains of the cupboard, moaning in chorus with Ron.

"Madam Lenore?" gasped Dobby. "Madam is not looking so good." The little elf knelt over her unconscious form. "Madam's robes is not looking so good. Madam, please be giving them to Dobby and Dobby is giving them a good washing." He looked around the room. " This place is being a mess! Dobby is getting a mop, now." As they watched, the liquid on the floor touched Madam Lenore's hand and her body began to glow from within.

"Quickly boy!" Snape demanded, "Did they recite the incantation?"

"Ron got something out," Harry told him. "I didn't catch all of it."

Hermione struggled to remember. "I think it was, "Parce cucumeris… frustis, parce… lactucae…. Mandata… pecularia nobis… non sunt oneri..."

"Then it's too late." There was a strange air of satisfaction in Snape's voice. Hermione could've sworn his lips curled into an infinitesimal smile for just an instant. "All I can do is complete the process." The glow condensed into a pulsating ball of energy, which emerged from Madam Lenore's torso and levitated in the air. Snape took out his wand and pointed it toward the energy ball. "Quantum materiae materietur marmota monax si marmota monax materiam possit materiari."

He guided the energy ball up into the air and toward the painting of Gwendolyn. The ball touched the surface of the painting and spread itself out across the canvas. The energy coalesced around her. Slowly, the image was lifted off the painting and deposited on the floor of the classroom. Within moments, a two-dimensional representation of a girl painted in oils was transformed into a three-dimensional human being lying in a heap in the floor. Gwendolyn Catherine Marie Dubois sat up and looked around. For a long time, the girl could only stare in awe at her now flesh-and-blood body, touching herself over and over to make sure that it was truly real.

"Pretty lady…" Dobby said, transfixed.

"I'm free." Even as she said it, she couldn't quite believe it.

Snape stepped forward, offering his hand to help her up. Once she got to her feet, she immediately threw her arms around Harry's neck, hitting nearly every sore spot on his body.

"Oh, Harry! I'm free! I'm free!"

"That's great." Harry said as he winced in pain. Hermione grabbed Harry by the arm and all but yanked him away.

"What is it about these Potters…? Snape muttered to himself.

"I doubt if you'd understand, Professor," Hermione said, wrapping her arms around Harry.

"How's Ron?" the bewildered Harry asked.

"He'll be fine, Potter," Snape said softly. "I told you, I have my reputation to consider."

Dobby was examining Ron's clothing and shaking his head sadly. "Dobby is not knowing about Ron Wheezy's shirt, though."

*****

Late that night, Harry, Hermione, Professor Dumbledore and Sirius Black met secretly in the Hospital Wing, where Ron Weasley, Draco Malfoy and his father, Lucius, lay slumbering under a recuperation spell. Madam Poppy Pomfrey was examining the lifeless remains of Madam Lenore.

"Allow me to introduce you to the real Gwendolyn Dubois," Sirius announced as he pulled back her hood.

"The real Gwendolyn?" Hermione asked.

"The woman who actually posed for the portrait all those years ago."

It was true. In spite of the ravages of time, there was still some vestige of beautiful face that had infatuated so many.

"So, neither Ron nor Malfoy were behind the attacks or the thefts?" Hermione put her arm around Harry's waist. "She was controlling their minds all along?"

"What tipped you off, Harry?" Sirius asked, "However did you figure out it wasn't really Ron in control?"

"I was already suspicious when I noticed the window in the tower had been blown outward. If he had really crashed through it on his broom there should have been glass everywhere. Instead, most of it was outside. But I was certain when he mentioned what Madam Lenore had said about Malfoy's perverted fantasies. He was still missing when I had that conversation. Hermione and Professor Snape were the only ones I told about it. There was no way Ron could've known-That, plus his casual attitude about killing Malfoy. That just wasn't Ron Weasley."

"It must've taken an incredible amount of effort to control both Ron and Draco," Sirius said as Madam Pomfrey pulled the sheet over the poor old woman's head. "Not to mention the spells she put on the library books."

"She was half-dead the last time I spoke to her," Harry said. "Come to think of it, I don't believe I ever saw them together at the same time while they were under her control."

"But how in the world did she get them involved in the first place?" Madam Pomfrey asked.

Harry looked a little embarrassed. "I think it was because of Hermione and me. The day after Nevile Longbottom's little snowstorm, Ron went missing for several hours. I have a feeling he went up to the Southeast Tower to sulk and stumbled on Gwen."

"When he stole the books from the library," Hermione said, "that activated Madam Lenore's mind control spells. It wouldn't surprise me if she didn't have a spell on them that would signal her when somebody had taken the bait."

Harry nodded. "I'm guessing that Draco started following Ron, hoping to get the goods on him and get him expelled from Hogwarts. Instead, he ended up falling for the painting himself."

" I checked Gwendolyn's school records from when she was a student here." Hermione told them. "Even then she seemed to have had a real knack for mind manipulation spells. The ministry even sent someone out to make sure she wasn't using her talents on the teachers to influence her grades."

"But, what was she up to?" Madam Pomfrey asked. "All this plotting and scheming? What was it for?"

"It's just an educated guess." Hermione said, "But I think she ultimately wanted to possess the younger Gwen's body in some crazy attempt to achieve eternal youth and beauty."

"Do you suppose she got wind of the Marauders' attempts to release her younger self from the painting?" Harry speculated. "Could that have given her the idea in the first place?" A thought struck him. "Or was it the other way 'round? Did she give them the idea?" He shook his head. "All this trouble over a old woman's vanity?" he sighed.

Sirius pulled a leather bound diary out of his pocket.

"Actually, there was more to it than simple vanity, Harry. I did some research myself on the wizard who painted the portrait. It turns out that André Delacorta is the pseudonym for a certain Andreus Malfoy- a great-great-uncle to Lucius as I understand. Apparently Andreus was a big disappointment to the family. He was far more interested in his art than in acquiring wealth or taking over the world. Gwendolyn was his favorite model, and they had a passionate affair-until she discovered that he was a Malfoy and that she had a much better chance of achieving financial security with Andreus' brother, Nicolae. Not surprisingly Andreus was extremely unhappy about the situation and just before he committed suicide, he placed a curse on the portrait."

"A curse?" Hermione was floored. "It wasn't a love charm?"

"No, but the effect was much the same. Evidently, it worked like The Picture Of Dorian Grey, only in reverse. As the real Gwen got older, the girl in the painting became more and more beautiful. Not surprisingly, when the real Gwen started losing her looks, brother Nicholae dropped her like a bad habit. She had no idea that Andreus had donated her portrait to Hogwarts and had spent years searching for it."

"She probably had only a few years left before the curse drained her life away completely," speculated Madam Pomfrey.

"It must have taken decades for her to construct the 'Madam Lenore' identity to a point where it would stand up to our scrutiny." Professor Dumbledore sounded a little defensive. After all, he'd been fooled along with everyone else.

"I suppose killing Draco was an added bonus," Hermione observed, "A little belated revenge against the Malfoy family."

As the meeting broke up, Professor Dumbledore thanked Sirius for his efforts and assured him that some day they would find a way to prove his innocence. As he started to leave, Sirius noticed Harry standing over Draco's bedside.

"You don't seem very happy, Harry. If I didn't know better, I'd say you were…disappointed?"

"Maybe I am. I think I wanted Malfoy to be all the terrible things 'Madam Lenore' said he was-then I'd have an excuse to settle with him once and for all."

"We're always ready to believe the worst about our enemies, Harry. But with a few exceptions, they are rarely as evil as we'd like them to be."

"She was counting on it-on my hating Draco Malfoy so much that I would happily look the other way while he was killed. What scares me is how close she came to getting her wish." There was a tear in Harry's eye.

"But she didn't, Harry. She underestimated you right from the start."

They fell silent for a moment. Harry stood staring at the sleeping Draco.

"Dumbledore keeps insisting that he can change."

"He could be a tremendous help in our fight against the Dark Lord-" Sirius' face spread into a wide grin. "-But even if he does come over to our side, there's no law that says you actually have to like the little creep."

*****

"'Ere! Potter!" Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle seemed unusually deferential when they met Harry and Hermione in the corridor near the Great Hall. "We just wanted to say…" Crabbe struggled for the proper words. "They're sayin' Draco don't remember nothin' that 'appened to 'im-but me and Goyle… We… Well… You know… We just wanted to say… You know…"

"Leave us." Lucius Malfoy was standing in the doorway. His arm was in a sling and he leaned heavily on his cane as he limped toward them.

"See ya round, then." The two Slytherins quickly disappeared around a corner.

"You're welcome," Harry said.

"Would you excuse us a moment, Miss Granger?" She shot Harry a concerned look but he nodded, telling her it was okay.

"See you in Potions class, then." She gave Harry a peck on the cheek. To Lucius' eyes the simple gesture almost seemed calculated as a message. Mess with Harry and you'll have to take me on as well.

Lucius seemed to be carefully considering his words as Hermione left them.

"You spared my son's life," he said hesitantly. "This is not gratitude. The Malfoys do not admit…" He paused to organize his thoughts. "Consider this merely the acknowledgement of a debt, Harry Potter. Our-" he searched for the correct word- "Our objectives are similar, but not necessarily the same, therefore I can do nothing that might interfere with-" He cut himself off. Finally he blurted out, "There may come a time when I will be in a position to grant you a favor. Insofar as it is within my power to grant it, I will do so. I shall then consider my obligation to you discharged." With a dramatic swish of his cape, he turned on his heel and limped away, leaving Harry shaking his head in astonishment.

*****

"You are convinced that this young lady was an innocent victim in this affair?" asked Dumbledore.

"'Innocent' is not exactly the word, I would choose, Professor," said McGonagall tactfully, "However, I have satisfied myself that, like Mr. Weasley and Mr. Malfoy, she was misled about the true nature of the spells involved and that she did not intend to cause harm. However, she did lie and manipulate in order to achieve her own ends. In fact, it could be argued that she really didn't care whether the spells were harmful to others, so long as she got what she wanted."

"So, what are you going to do to me?" Gwendolyn asked nervously. Harry and Hermione stood to one side, their expressions unreadable.

Professor Dumbledore peered over his glasses. "You realize, young lady, that your conduct has caused a great many people at this school a great deal of trouble. Besides leading many young men astray and causing them to violate school policies, you nearly cost Miss Granger and Mr. Malfoy their lives. A strict interpretation of the law prescribes that I should hand you over to the Ministry of Magic and let them deal with you. It is conceivable you could end up in Azkaban."

At just the mention of the prison's name, the girl went pale.

"But, since you did try to do the right thing in the end, I am inclined to show leniency. I am prepared to offer you what the Muggles refer to as a 'plea bargain'."

"What do you mean?"

"Are you familiar with the Muggle composers Gilbert and Sullivan?" McGonagall asked. "I believe they were very popular in your day."

"Of course", Gwendolyn snapped irritably. "What about them?"

"If you remember The Mikado, the Emperor sings a song about 'making the punishment fit the crime'." She sat down on the big wooden desk, her black robes making her look like a judge. "Professor Dumbledore, Mr. Potter, Miss Granger and myself have thought long and hard about what punishment would be most appropriate for your particular crime. It was Miss Granger who suggested the appropriate sentence."

Gwendolyn's eyes moved from one of her judges to the next. The stern looks on their faces were not encouraging.

"You can be a very charming young lady when it suits you." McGonagall continued, "So charming, in fact, that Mr. Weasley has become quite enamored of you. Not surprisingly, the poor lad believes you to be equally besotted with him. You've spent so much time using your talents for your own selfish gains that we all agreed the most appropriate punishment was for you to concern yourself with the needs of someone else for a change."

"I don't understand." Gwendolyn demanded, "What are you saying…?"

McGonagall went on to say, "You are to be Mr. Weasley's…" she hesitated, a little uncomfortable with the word, "…girlfriend."

"You can't be serious!"

"We are perfectly serious," said Professor Dumbledore. "Starting tomorrow, for the next three hundred-sixty-five days, you are going to be the woman of Ron Weasley's dreams. You will laugh at all his jokes, patiently and sympathetically listen to all his troubles, take a keen interest in his hobbies-"

"Fred, George and I will be happy to tutor you in Quidditch, if you like." Harry added helpfully. Gwendolyn's only reply was a cold stare. Harry simply shrugged. "Suit yourself."

"Simply put," Hermione interjected, "For the next year your job will be to make Ron Weasley happy."

"And if he isn't happy?" Gwendolyn asked with a hint of defiance.

"We'll put you back into the painting," Hermione told her matter-of-factly, "Then we'll hide it someplace where we can guarantee it won't be found again for at least another hundred years."

"You can't do that to me!" Gwendolyn gasped, "That's unlawful imprisonment! I'm a human being now! I have rights!"

"Strictly speaking, my dear," Dumbledore said, "You are not a real person. You are an artificial creation. As such, you have no legal standing under wizard law."

"I'll go mad…" she pleaded softly. "You don't know what it's like to be stuck in there…!" The defiance in Gwendolyn's eyes had drained away, replaced by what Harry saw as genuine fear. Her whole body seemed to slump in resignation, but there was still a bit of impertinence in her manner.

"When you say 'make him happy'…? Does that mean that you expect me to…? That is… Do I have to…?"

Harry could barely keep from laughing at her sudden attack of Victorian reticence. He was half-tempted to tell her yes, she would have to have sex with Ron-as often and in as many variations as Ron's twisted little imagination could conceive.

"Of course not," McGonagall quickly interjected while shooting a stern look at Harry, "You and Mr. Weasley are far too young even to be thinking about such things!" Both Harry and Hermione wondered if their faces were turning red as they recalled some of the things that they themselves had got up to recently.

"Besides," said Hermione, "Ron's future children deserve far better than to have a mother who's a lying, scheming little-!"

"That will do, Miss Granger!" McGonagall barked at her. "Young ladies do not use that sort of language here at Hogwarts-however accurate it may be."

Gwendolyn considered for a moment.

Finally, she asked, "What happens when the year is over?"

"You will be free to leave," Professor Dumbledore said with at least a tiny hint of sympathy in his voice.

"So long as you let him down gently," Harry insisted, "you can give him any excuse you want."

"I'd be totally free?"

Harry could almost hear the wheels turning in Gwendolyn's head as she considered the possibilities.

"We will even give you the painting," Dumbledore reassured her, "and show you the proper way to destroy it so you can never be imprisoned again."

"Ron isn't such a bad fellow… In fact, he's rather sweet once you get to know him…"

"You may even find that if you spend enough time together, you might really begin to like him." Harry offered.

"Heaven help us…!" Hermione muttered under her breath.

Snape watched from the shadows as Harry, Gwendolyn and Hermione left the Headmaster's office.

"It's for the best, Severus."

"You talk as if I still had romantic feelings for the girl. Ridiculous! She's still sixteen years old! That would be as absurd as my having a relationship with Miss Granger-or even young Potter for that matter!"

"What is it that the Muggles say, Severus? 'It is better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all!'"

The Potions Master waited until Professor Dumbledore was well out of sight before he rubbed a tear from his eye.

"What absolute rubbish!"

Ron was waiting for them as Harry, Hermione and Gwendolyn entered the Gryffindor Common Room. Gwendolyn had been formally enrolled as a student at Hogwarts and had been placed in Gryffindor House. Though she was no longer under the spell to make her irresistible, she could still turn heads even in her simple Hogwarts uniform and robes.

Gwen looked at Harry and took a deep breath as if to say, "Here goes nothing!"

"Ron!" She threw her arms around his neck. "Thank goodness you're all right!" Ron closed his eyes and just drank in the moment. Given the enmity between Gwen and the Malfoy family, it was no surprise when Lucius Malfoy had insisted that Draco's mind be purged entirely of the whole incident. For his part, Ron had only vague memories of his time under Madam Lenore's enchantment. The one thing that lingered was his infatuation with Gwen.

"Listen, I can't wait to see you after class this afternoon!" Ron said, excitedly, "I just found this great new book of love poems in the library! Shelley! Keats! Wordsworth! You'll love it!"

"Love poems?" Harry and Hermione said in wide-eyed chorus.

"Ron…? I know you and Hermione and I haven't really gotten to spend much time together lately. The class is organizing a trip into Hogsmeade on Saturday. Why don't the four of us spend the day together-call it a 'double date'."

"Just a minute, Harry!" Hermione interrupted. "Haven't you forgotten something? You've already got a date this Saturday-with Moaning Myrtle!"

THE END



[1] Charles K. Harris