Unofficial Portkey Archive

Harry Potter and the Gilded Portrait - Part 3

Standard Disclaimers Apply…

Chapter 37 - May Wonders Never Cease

Hermione found herself in her usual spot in the library working on her difficult post-graduate curriculum after taking her shift on Head duties the night before. She had a rather difficult paper to write on the effects of transfiguring larger inanimate objects. It was an exceptionally difficult skill to learn and Hermione had to admit she was struggling with it a bit.

---^-^---

She also had to admit Professor Star was not just a pretty face and `boobs to die for' as Ronald had so eloquently stated one day before class began. She was a competent and capable instructor and her students towed-the-line in her classes. She didn't tolerate nonsense which meant Ron stayed in trouble constantly. She was also concerned about her student's progress…all of them and made an effort to keep them from falling behind.

Hermione respected that and much to her surprise Professor Star seemed to recognize Hermione's skills and advanced abilities and was one of the first to ask her for assistance in tutoring and even asked Hermione's opinion on course curriculum.

Ron had told her that it was just all those years of being a teacher's pet know-it-all finally paying off. She had slugged him in the shoulder but all it had done was hurt her hand and made all her knuckles pop loudly.

Most of the boys struggled to get beyond the Professor's beautiful face, strange violet eyes and enviable physical features but most managed to scratch by.

But she couldn't seem to shake the unsettling feeling the undeniably gorgeous Transfiguration Professor knew more about what had happened during the conflict between the Ministry, the Order and Voldemort and his lot then she was letting on and it made Hermione feel a bit unsettled. She couldn't quite seem to find how all the pieces fit together but she knew something was coming. She just had no idea what and it was beginning to drive her a bit spare.

Even so she had little time to spare on considering the new Prophecy much like the last time. The only difference was that now it was being mired in lessons, homework, Head Girl duties as well as all her self-inflicted tasks she had taken on instead of being chased all over the place by Death Eaters and trying to keep her boys alive and in one piece.

All of Hermione's classes had taken on a decidedly more demanding feel. She knew she was more than up to the challenge and it felt good to be pushed academically but between that and all the other stuff it left time for little else.

With the Marauder's map now in her possession it simplified some of her tasks as Head Girl. Finding many of the more amorous older students engaged in heated romantic trysts locked in broom closets, off the beaten path hallways and corridors, behind tapestries and even in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom was much simpler than chasing them all over the castle.

Many of her fellow students began to believe the Amazing Hermione Granger had some strange mutant ability to detect overly excited hormones or something and that's how she had seemingly uncanny accuracy in finding those little clandestine meetings.

For Hermione it was nothing more complicated than consulting the map and the use of a very clever and never-before-considered resource she tapped into to assist her - The Hogwarts Portraits!

She remembered her conversation with the Mermaid in the Prefect's bath that night back when her world was still full of darkness and pain and still struggling to find some sense of balance. The Mermaid had told her most all the paintings knew who she was so she used that knowledge to her advantage and it worked!

.

With little convincing necessary she pressed the Hogwarts portraits and paintings into her service as spies to report on the goings on about the castle when she was otherwise occupied herself. They too were well aware of what happened the night of the final battle at Hogwarts. They were most happy to assist and did so with relish. They considered their new duties somewhat of a contest among themselves and a welcome respite from their boring existence just hanging around all the time.

She asked if she could move a painting call The Three Witches of Whitehaven - Three young women eventually burned at the stake for practicing witchcraft and heresy in the eighteenth century - to the Head dormitory and she used them as liaisons with the rest of the portraits throughout the castle.

She had to have a serious heart-to-heart talk with Sir Cadogan though. He was of the mind that it was his duty to dual to-the death any student out of their quarters after hours for any reason. After enlisting the service of a dragon out of a painting from the Slytherin common room and scaring a group of fourth year Hufflepuff girls bad enough to warrant a trip to the infirmary she had to re-educate the overly rambunctious Knight. It had not been easy.

After a while the Hogwarts ghosts, statues and suits of armor got in on the game. They thought it great fun sneaking up on unsuspecting lovers, chasing them back to their dorms. Even Peeves assisted on occasion when he wasn't just being a general public nuisance.

After a while the students began to get a bit wiser. They began monitoring Hermione's shifts and reserved their sessions to when Neville was on duty. Compared to Hermione, Neville was as thick as troll bogies when it came to such things.

It was then Hermione decided to bring Neville in on the secret of the Marauder's map. He almost swallowed his tongue when she showed him the map and how it worked. She would never forget what he had said.

"You know, we could have really used this when we were still at Hogwarts last year, would have made things a lot less painful."

He wasn't accusing, just simply making a statement. That was Neville. He could kick you right in the box and not even realize he was doing it. She felt guilty for days after that and it wasn't even her map.

After that, clandestine student meetings and trysts all but ceased and many began grudgingly referring to Hermione as Little Umbridge or D.U. Jr.…behind her back of course.

The Headmistress was well pleased with her Head Boy and Girl's performance and thought the use of the Hogwarts portraits a brilliant idea.

"Why didn't I think of that?" She said to Hermione during a meeting one afternoon.

Argus Filch was about the only one who wasn't pleased with the Head Girl's progress. He complained to the Headmistress he hadn't been able to use his dungeon in over three decades and his implements were becoming rusty.

He was heard to tell the Headmistress, "Ya know, I never though I'd ever `ear meself say this bu' I sorta miss them Weasley twins."

The look the Headmistress gave Filch sent him scurrying quickly back to his office down in the bowls of the castle commenting after 40 years he had still not been able to get even one barmy poltergeist under control.

He was unusually quiet and surprisingly cordial to Hermione after that. Even Mrs. Norris didn't scurry away when she came across the Head Girl during her rounds.

---^-^---

As Hermione sat in total concentration on her paper she had not realized someone had come up to stand directly behind her until she noticed a shadow cross her parchment. When she turned to look she was almost stupefied to find Draco Malfoy standing there rather stiffly as if he were almost embarrassed to be caught in her proximity.

"Can I help you Draco?" Hermione blurted out nervously before she could collect her wits.

"Actually," he replied in an almost inaudible whisper looking down at his shoes, "I'm thinking you're about the only one who can," he paused, then looked her full in the eyes, "or might…at any rate."

Inwardly Hermione sighed. She knew Draco had changed dramatically but she had no idea to what extent. He was unusually quiet, private and kept almost completely to himself. Rarely did she ever see him unless it was in the few classes they had together and he rarely participated in class. He silently went about doing his work and seemed to be content to be left to his own devices.

Gone was that swaggering arrogance of the old Draco. It was as if he was quite happy to be not noticed by anyone.

…But there he stands...asking for help.

She couldn't help but remember her little dissertation down in the Slytherin hallway that night just after the term started. She got the impression he was trying to reach out. Why? She had no clue but once-again she felt it important to at least meet him half way and try to give him the benefit of her own irreverent hope this wasn't just some stupid trick to play her the fool. She had started it after all.

But do I really have time for this?

She groaned inwardly as she reluctantly motioned to a chair on the other side of the table across from hers.

When Draco settled into his chair he sat stiffly upright as if it were taking all his strength to accomplish the task but his expression remained completely neutral.

"So how can I help you Draco," She did her best not to sound as exasperated as she felt. She remained as detached and as neutral as he appeared to be.

"I think I made a mistake," He replied cryptically.

When Hermione did not reply but merely watched him with a touch of hardness in the set of her jaw he continued. Hermione was not going to set herself up for any foolishness.

"I requested to take the same level courses you did thinking it would place me in a different setting from the rest of the students…"

This revelation stunned Hermione for a moment but she let him continue without interrupting.

"Imagine my surprise when I found myself in the same classes as I started in. Only the requirements had changed." He sighed heavily. "To be perfectly honest…I don't know what the bloody hell I was thinking."

"And you're telling me this because?" Hermione asked wearily.

"The truth is Granger, I'm in over my head and any…assistance you might be able to afford me in making sense of these lessons would be greatly appreciated."

Hermione was about to remind him that part of her many duties as Head Girl and Resident Know-It-All was to tutor those who were struggling in most of her classes but to her surprise Draco seemed to have anticipated her response. He held up a hand to stall her reply.

"I realize you tutor many of our classmates but I believe they are all on the regular curriculum level, yes?"

Hermione nodded but then a thought struck her.

"You mean to tell me the only reason you took these advanced courses was to separate yourself from the others? Why for Merlin's sake?"

What Draco said next stunned Hermione like a full blown, point-blank hex to the face.

"Let's just say I'm beginning to understand what it must have been like to be Harry bloody Potter all those years ago."

She sat speechless for a moment. She knew she must be gawking stupidly at him but she seemed powerless to move. The thought Draco Malfoy identified with Harry Potter on any level was both shocking and quite disturbing. She eventually shook off her surprise and simply asked…

"Explain?"

"I know it probably sounds ridiculous to you but the constant ogling and incessant questions about what it was like to be in Azkaban are now quite tiresome and draining. I seemed to have become somewhat of a…curiosity to those with enough gumption to inquire. I can see now what it must have been like for the Boy Who Lived, everyone looking at you like you're from some strange far-away land or like you've contracted some incurable and contagious disease or something. It's not easy to admit that, by the way."

Draco's whole demeanor took on the unmistakable look of pure sadness.

"I just want to get through this year and get on with my life but I don't want to be a complete failure. I'm hoping you of all people can understand that."

"I do." Hermione replied still a bit guarded. She couldn't help it. This was Draco Malfoy after all.

The thought of having a deep, meaningful (and civil) conversation with this boy was as foreign to her as jumping on a broom and participating in a Quidditch match but here he was, calmly admitting he had misjudged certain aspects of their lives over the past few years. This was more than significant. It was a bloody break-through!

"So," she asked trying to ease some of the tension between them. He still sat rigid as if prepared to flee at any moment, "have you thought about what you'll do after you graduate?"

Hermione had no idea why she was trying to ease his apparent distress but that simple and relatively innocuous question seemed to do the trick. His shoulders visibly relaxed as he sat back slightly apparently realizing she wasn't going to start hurling curses at him.

"Honestly," Draco replied, "No idea, you?"

"I haven't really had the time to think that far ahead since the term started." She said.

Draco's lips curled at the corners of his mouth into what Hermione figured was his version of a smile. It could have almost been interpreted as a grimace.

"I can certainly understand that given all your responsibilities. I consider myself fortunate you're allowing me to sit here with you."

Hermione frowned slightly.

"Alright Draco," she quipped, "There's no need to placate. So what are you having immediate trouble with?"

Draco gave her an understanding nod. He then produced a rather thick roll of parchment and handed it across the table.

"At the moment I'm working on a rather demanding essay for our thesis requirements in History of Magic. I would appreciate it if you would proof it for me. It's only a rough draft mind you."

Hermione nodded and took the essay from him.

"What's the topic?" she asked not looking at him as she uncoiled the roll. It was quite long, at least 6 feet.

"You're going to laugh," Draco said.

"Doubt it," Hermione responded matter-of-factly, "You should know enough about me that I don't take school work lightly Draco." She couldn't help but offer him a rather devious little grin.

"Alright then," Draco seemed to relax even further with that exchange, "My topic is on the relationship between Goblins and Wizards throughout history. Considering their attitude toward us at present as a result of that little stunt you three managed to pull off at Gringotts which, if I might be so bold to add was bloody impressive by the way, I thought it a relevant topic of a thesis."

Hermione gave him a dark sideways glance.

"Are you trying to be snarky?"

Draco straightened in his seat at once.

"Absolutely not Granger," he said seriously, "I think the way you three were able to break into a virtually impenetrable fortress of security is quite telling of your skill, abilities and utter cleverness. You broke into Gringotts for Merlin sakes!" He stressed leaning forward slightly, "Not only that you got out and lived to tell about it! Quite impressive I'd say. Not many in history can make that claim and you're only teenagers!"

"Well," Hermione replied a bit sheepishly. She had to work hard to keep from blushing and wasn't sure she had managed it, "it's not like it's the first time Gringotts security has been breached."

Draco gave her a quizzical look.

She was remembering whoever had breached the empty vault number 713 that had once held Nicholas Flamell's Sorcerer's Stone but she wasn't sure how many others even remembered that.

"Never mind," she said shaking her head, "When you put it that way it sounds daring and thrilling but I assure you it wasn't anything of the sort. It was absolutely dreadful and terrifying. Not something I ever what to repeat but it had to be done none the less."

Draco nodded.

"Believe it or not that's something I've come to understand after out little talk down in the Slytherin hall that night. I've had some time to come to terms with many of the things you told me. I'd really like to hear how you did it some day from your perspective. That's got to be quite the tail. You really Pollyjuiced yourself as my Aunt? That must have been something to see."

Now Hermione felt her face flush hotly. She knew damned well there were only a few who knew the real story and only one so far had talked. Ron had described that night in his book and according to Harry had done a rather good job of it.

She busied herself with perusing his essay for a moment. When she glanced back up at him Draco's face had taken on an almost stricken look as he sat staring at his hands. When he caught her looking she laid his paper on the desk.

"What is it Draco?" She asked hesitantly.

"There's," he paused, unsure of himself, "something else I was hoping you might help me with."

Hermione's guards went up immediately. She was almost certain it was simply due to the whole unusualness of this entire situation but she couldn't seem to help it. Her internal alarms went off right away. She took a deep breath and sat up a bit straighter.

"Oh?" She replied a bit more coldly then she intended.

When Draco reached inside his robes and produced a wand her hand instantly twitched toward her own. It was a natural reaction due to years of defending herself but when he simply laid the wand on the desk between them she relaxed…but only just. She eyed him wearily and when he perceived the tension she was displaying he continued.

"After they released me from Azkaban I was allowed to have my wand back. Apparently the Aurors kept it after the trial but for some reason it doesn't work for me now," Draco said darkly, "It doesn't work for me at all anymore."

The stricken look was back like someone had just lopped off one of his appendages.

Hermione recalled watching him try to use it on the train just before all hell broke loose between him and Ronald.

"I was wondering if you might have some answers that could help me figure out how to correct this problem. This is actually more important to me than schoolwork at present. My mother gave me her wand to use in the mean time but it's not the same. I feel useless and vulnerable and I must admit I'm not accustomed to that. I'm ill suited to being on the outside looking in, so to speak."

Hermione looked at Draco for a long moment saying nothing but considering everything. She could understand how devastating this might be for him. She remembered all too well what it was like to tell Harry she had broken his wand. He was devastated even though he tried to act differently. It had affected him almost as badly as loosing Sirius but to a much lesser degree of physical pain. It had been more of a psychological blow than anything.

"So that's the reason you want to separate yourself from everyone?" She asked candidly.

"You don't miss much do you Granger?" He smirked.

"Perception is one of the keys to knowledge Draco and assumptions based on those perceptions are what lead us to draw conclusions. It's unavoidable. The next step is to apply reasoning, understanding and evidence to reach the correct conclusion. It's not that complicated a concept."

Draco's lips curled in an involuntary grin.

"Has anyone ever told you, you speak like a professor Granger?"

"You're the first actually," she quipped, "and do you think we can get past the whole sir-name thing Malfoy!"

It was Draco's turn to look sheepish. He nodded.

"Sorry," he said, "Some old habits are apparently harder to break than others."

That comment made Hermione genuinely smile for the first time since he had appeared behind her. It suddenly seemed that old barriers were slowly falling away right before her eyes. Part of her still had a hard time believing it but the rest of her sat rejoicing in what could only be described as a bridging of a here-to-for unbridgeable gap between his world and hers. This had to mean something important and significant. She could feel it inside. It was almost like the world was slowly righting itself day by day, piece by piece.

For the first time since she had stepped into the Wizard world a seemingly unobtainable concept started to manifest itself in her heart and mind. It was a realization that things were becoming…dare she think it…normal. Much more normal then they had ever been before.

It was that reasoning that caused her to make a decision.

"Alright Draco," she said, "I am, of course, willing to help you with your coursework. I feel I'm bound by my duties as Head Girl to do that. I'll start by proofing your essay. As far as the wand thing, however…for that you're going to have to do something for me in return."

Draco shifted uncomfortably in his chair. He had not considered there might be conditions! He began wondering what he could possibly do for her when bizarre thoughts of slavery and other odd possibilities began swirling around his brain. He quickly chastised himself for that line of thinking.

Don't be an idiot Malfoy!

"Erm, what is it that you want from me?" he asked bravely.

"It's simple really," Hermione answered. "I want you to stop hiding yourself away like an outcast. I want you to get back on the Slytherin Quidditch team or something." An idea occurred to her suddenly. "What about the new Dueling Club? It's become one of the most popular things in Hogwarts this year. Everyone says Professor Dervish really knows what he's doing and he makes it fun and challenging for everyone. Actually, that sounds right up your alley Draco."

"Up my alley?" He asked surprised.

"Oh come on, I've seen you duel. You're about the only one our age who could stand toe to toe with Harry and give him a real go. I saw you defending yourself against Ronald on the train. You weren't even trying hard because you knew it wasn't a real fight. He was just being the usual don't think - just do dunderhead."

That made Malfoy laugh. It was a real laugh and it touched something inside her.

"I don't know Hermione," he said but she could see the wheels turning in his head, "Even though my mother's wand works ok for me for most things I don't know how well suited it would be for something like that."

She had to admit he did have a point but she was nothing if not a determined bossy little bitch.

"Won't know till you try, yes? Besides, you, yourself said you wanted to get on with your life. I can't think of a better way to start."

Draco looked at her for a long moment then nodded with a smirk.

"Alright, I'll give it a go. Something tells me you'll not leave me alone until I do…something."

"See," Hermione said brightly, "you know me better than you thought."

Draco sat back in his chair almost completely relaxed now. He seemed lighter then when he first sat down as if a heavy weight had been removed from his shoulders. Even his facial features didn't seem as dark and drawn as before.

She thought of asking him about Pansy but realized quickly that wasn't any of her business and having learned a thing or two watching some of her previous dorm mates she decided to steer well clear of that kind of thing. That was only asking for trouble.

Strictly business then…

"So what do we do now?" Draco asked.

"Well," Hermione considered a moment. She looked at his wand lying on the table. She reached for it but then stopped. "Do you mind?"

Draco threw a hand out, "Course not. Be my guest. Not doing me much good at present."

Hermione picked up the wand. With a muttered Wingardium Leviosa she tapped one of her books. The book rose slowly and steadily about three feet off the desk. Hermione then moved it over to Draco and dropped it in his outstretched hands.

"Curious," Hermione said more to herself then anything. Draco was speechless. She began nibbling at her bottom lip in concentration. She sat silently thinking for a moment as she watched Draco take his wand from her and try to do the same thing she did with no success.

She remembered distinctly what Ollivander had said about wands that morning at Shell Cottage. She would never forget it. It was the moment she realized the Elder Wand and the Hallows were real and the realization that she had been completely wrong had almost undone her.

"…the manner of taking matters. Much also depends on the wand itself. In general, however, where a wand has been won, its allegiance will change."

"…if you are any wizard at all you will be able to channel your magic through almost any instrument. The best results, however, must always come where there is the strongest affinity between wizard and wand. These connections are complex. An initial attraction, then a mutual quest for experience, the wand learning from the wizard, the wizard learning from the wand."

"Subtle laws govern wand ownership but the conquered wand will usually bend its will to its new master."

But what was curious to Hermione was there was nothing about a wand not working for its original master once it was returned. What was even more curious was that Bellatrix Lestrange captured and used her wand but when she got it back it seemed to work just fine. In fact it seemed to have a bit more punch to some of the more complex spells for a while until things seemed to reach equilibrium after a few weeks back in her possession. She considered that for a moment.

"I'm almost ashamed to admit I know more about Quidditch brooms than I do about wands and I don't even really like Quidditch, however, what little knowledge I do possess sheds almost no light on what's causing your wand not to work for you. I think it has something to do with how the wand was taken from you, who took it and why. I do know the intricacies of how they work is very complicated and a very specialized field of study."

"I suppose that's why there isn't a wand maker on every corner," Draco added, "Makes sense."

That comment gave Hermione an idea.

"Harry told me Ollivander has re-opened his shop in Diagon Alley. Seems to me if you want answers that would be the perfect place to start, yes?"

"Yes," Draco blushed scarlet to the tips of his ears, "well, I'm not sure how well received a Malfoy would be in Ollivander's shop."

"Ooh, yes," Hermione wrinkled her cute little nose, "that could be a rather sticky situation. Fair enough. I'll correspond with Ollivander and try to get some details. I'll just tell him a friend is having a problem."

Draco lifted an eyebrow looking pointedly across the table at her.

"I thought you said you and I could never be friends…Hermione."

"Let's not put the cart before the Thestral just yet Draco, shall we?"

Draco nodded. To Hermione's amazement she thought she perceived a bit of disappointment in him.

"Hideous looking creatures those," he said softly looking blankly at the table top for a moment.

"Indeed," Hermione replied.

Hermione suddenly realized the significance in those statements. The fact that they could both now see the Thestrals was a testimony to the previous year. It was a bitter and hollow memory and she had to force it back or risk falling into those dark thoughts once again.

"When is your thesis due," she asked him trying to distract herself.

"Not till Monday next," he replied, "so I've got time if you can't get to it right away."

"Not to worry," Hermione said, "I'll make sure you have it later this afternoon so you'll have plenty of time to do the re-write. Quick enough?"

Draco nodded as he rose from his chair. He leaned across the table slightly.

"Thank you Hermione. I know you have no reason to help me but I want you to know I do appreciate your kindness."

Hermione couldn't decide if she wanted to jump up yelling and cheering like a complete nutter or just burst out into tears of happiness and relief. She settled with giving him a nod and one of her more captivating smiles. She absolutely did not trust herself to speak at the moment. She had to do something to keep herself from completely loosing it.

When on shaky ground…be snarky!

"You might want to reserve the thanks just yet Draco," she quipped, swallowing the lump in her throat, "You've never been on the receiving end of one of my proofs. I didn't get the title of Know-It-All Nightmare for nothing you know. It can be ugly. In fact, that in itself might get your wand working."

Draco chuckled.

"You see," he added, "It only makes it clearer to me that I've been hanging around with the wrong kind of people."

He left Hermione with a rather warm, genuine smile. She couldn't have stopped the tears if she wanted to. It took her a moment to compose herself and when she did the idea that a person like Draco Malfoy could change so dramatically and it being her attitude toward him that had help made her feel better than good. It made her feel like a Gryffindor!

Later that afternoon she had managed to get all her own work finished so she sat back with a cup of tea in the blessedly Neville and Luna free Head Dorm common room and settling on one of the over stuffed couches began proofing Draco's thesis essay.

It began simple enough at the point in history where Goblins and Wizards lives began to run parallel. There were many interesting facts and historical references to many of the more well known and documented accounts of not only conflicts between Goblins and Wizards but also times when there was co-operation between the two beings as well. Not many but they were there for one clever and diligent enough to find them.

Much to Hermione's surprise Draco did an excellent job of research to find most of them and had to admit he did an equally excellent job of presenting them in a clear, organized and interesting manner that made the reader want to know more.

Baring the typical minor grammatical errors and spelling mistakes she found in most of her tutorial work she had to admit he had done an excellent job over all. She also had to admit to herself that he was an intelligent and capable writer.

Thinking back over the years she realized that Draco, even though he had been a bigoted egomaniac and a loud mouth berk, had always been a relatively bright and capable student in a majority of their classes and even though it made her uncomfortable to think it she had to admit he had been a better student then either Ron or Harry, much to her dismay but she couldn't deny the reality of it.

As she delved deeper into Draco's work she came across what he had described as a fictional tale or rather what could be called a legendary fable that involved how the writer, in this case, a poet, (because Draco describes finding the tale in a very old and long- forgotten book of dark poetry in the Restricted Section,) describes how Goblins came to appear the way they do today, hideously shrunken and disfigured.

Since some of the book had been penned in ancient Gaelic he had inquired to Madam Pince who might be able to translate and she pointed him to none other than the Headmistress herself, who he had credited for the translation in his bibliography at the end.

After getting the translation he began to weave a tale that captivated Hermione's imagination unlike anything had in a long time.

The story said that Goblins were once not very different from humans or wizards. They were of average height but most of them were incredibly handsome and beautiful to look upon. It was said that they had an almost ethereal quality to their beauty but as a result were also vein and self absorbed.

It was said the gifts they possessed for working metal and creating priceless jewelry and works of art had been passed down from their ancient ancestors who resided on an island in the midst of the ocean, or what the author referred to as the midst of Poseidon's domain. Some say it was the land of Atlantis itself.

The knowledge of their skills was known throughout the world and they created many priceless treasures for which they were loathed to part with. It was only for vast sums of wealth they sold their creations which made the Goblins wealthy beyond their wildest dreams.

It wasn't long until greed and the lust for gold began to take hold of the Goblin clans and in-fighting began. The unrest created the desire for competition between the clans of Goblins to become the richest of their kind.

It wasn't long after a great Goblin War a Queen emerged from the shadows of a distant land. She was skilled in all manner of dark and dangerous magic. The legend said this Queen could take the shape of any creature she desired but preferred to possess or take the form of beautiful young women to lure men to do her bidding.

The Goblins called her The Black Witch of The Shadowed Highland Realm but the actual translation of the name from Old Gaelic, if applied correctly (according to information provided by Headmistress McGonagall during the translation) would actually read, The Witch Black of the Highland Shadow Realm. But McGonagall had also stated that in many ancient Gaelic texts proper names were often written backwards or out of context for what reason she had no idea hence the rearranging of the name to make more sense.

The tale states the Black Witch approached the richest and most powerful Goblin Clan and commissioned them to create for her the most beautiful and priceless set of jewels ever created, one that would be envied and desired by all who looked upon them. It was to contain a tiara of pure spun gold, set with diamonds, rubies, sapphires and emeralds the likes of which the world had never seen. There were to be necklaces and rings, lockets, bracelets and amulets all matching in their splendor. There would be a staff of pure elephant tusk ivory tipped with gold and at the top two golden serpents twisting and writhing together oriented so that her hand would rest upon their heads, their eyes set with rubies.

The Goblins agreed but only for a price. A king's ransom in gold coins was what the Goblins required.

The Queen agreed and led them to a cave not far from the Goblins village. When they entered they saw piles and piles of gold coins stacked as far as the eye could behold in the dark depths of the cave.

The Goblins set to work but there were those who had treachery in their hearts and made a plan to deceive the Queen and steal her gold. While the craftsman toiled day and night to create the Queen's desires the leaders of the Goblin Clan stole away from the village with wagons and carts in the middle of the night to the cave of gold.

They loaded all the gold they could carry and stole away in the darkness back to the village to proclaim their bounty, their carts and wagons so heavy they left deep ruts in the hard earth. As the tale goes, when they were but half way back to their homeland a Goblin chief noticed his team of oxen labored less the further they traveled and the ruts from the wagon wheels cut less deeply in the hard packed earth.

It was then they stopped and uncovered their prize only to discover they had stolen nothing more than Leprechaun Gold. By mornings first light their wagons and carts were empty. They dashed to their village only to find the Queen had arrived to claim her commission.

When the Goblin leaders arrived they proclaimed the Black Witch had deceived them and paid them with worthless Leprechaun gold! It was then the Black Witch knew the Goblins had tried to deceive her and steal her riches using that revelation to mask her own deception. She then placed a terrible curse on them all.

She destroyed their beauty and turned them into the most hideous creatures on earth to look upon. They would be despised by all who beheld them. They would forever be bound to their lust for gold never to be sated in their quest, never to be satisfied in their need to possess it. They would forever be denied the use of the magic possessed by wizards and forevermore enslaved to do their master's bidding to serve at the wizard's feet.

That, the story proclaimed, is how the Goblin came to look as he does to this day for the spell set upon them by the Black Witch has never been broken even though they have paid vast sums to wizards for them to try.

Hermione was startled awake at the sound of the door to their common room opening as Neville made his way in with Luna in tow. She had been dreaming of the Black Witch, watching her cast her curse on the Goblins. She watched them shrink from normal people to the unpleasant creatures they are now. It was remarkable how she had been completely drawn into the tale.

She looked up at the clock and realized she had missed dinner and was now after 8:30. She should have returned his essay hours ago.

She threw herself off the couch, scanned his paper quickly to make sure she had covered everything then dashed to the lavatory to splash some water on her face then out the entrance she went, making her way to the Slytherin hall.

When she arrived she made her way into the Slytherin common room like she owned the place. Being Head Girl she had all the passwords for all the dorms and for most all the students now it wasn't unusual to see her coming and going from just about anywhere, except the third floor. That floor still gave her the creeps for some reason. She let Neville handle that floor.

Looking around she spotted Draco's toe-head sitting close to the fire bent over an advanced potions problem they had been given that day.

Professor Slughorn liked to give them problems and puzzles that involved missing components or steps to what he liked to call the 3-P's or Proper Potion Preparation.

It was extremely difficult and often maddening to solve because some of the examples he used were long-forgotten potion recipes that languished only in the deep dark recesses of the library's dusty archives of forgotten cures, remedies, elixirs and draughts that no-one cared about or used any longer.

Like who the hell needs a potion to prevent permanent pink pastel paint from peeling off pregnant pot-bellied pigs? How's that for your three P's you barmy old codger!

If she didn't graduate soon she was going to loose her mind, she just knew it.

She was certain their illustrious Potions Professor was slowly loosing his. Perhaps he was sampling too many of his own creations and it was finally catching up with him. All she knew was that the word insufferable came up quite often when discussing Professor Slughorn these days.

When Draco saw her he looked up bleary-eyed and cracked her a wry grin.

"I figured you just decided to shelve it for another day."

"No," Hermione said as she plopped down next to him on the couch yawning widely. The fire felt good, "I fell asleep while going through it actually."

"That boring I suppose." Draco looked down and began picking at the frayed edge of the leather seat cushion he was sitting on.

"Actually no," She smiled, "Quite the contrary really. I got completely drawn into the tale about the Black Witch. I even had a dream about her."

Draco smiled a little then.

"So how bad is it?" He asked.

"Not bad at all, really," she said honestly, "With the exception of some of your basic grammatical errors and such it's really quite good. In fact, I would go so far to say it's quite compelling and very interesting. I wouldn't change a thing."

Draco looked at her like she had just slapped him. His eyebrows had all but disappeared and his face was slowly taking on the color of a ripe tomato.

"Why do you look so surprised," She asked chuckling, "You've always been a better than average student as far as I can remember so why the complete look of disbelief?"

He simply shrugged.

"I don't know. I guess I never expected an assessment like that to come from you about something I created, that's all."

"Would it make your feel better if I lie and tell you it's rubbish?" She asked jokingly, "You can get a second opinion if you like or how about we just toss it in the fire and be done with it," she grabbed his essay and acted like she was going to throw it in the fireplace.

He practically leapt out of his shoes to grab it.

"No!" He urged, "Please!"

Hermione drew back smirking, then handed him his paper.

"Then stop being so insecure," she said standing then, "You know it's really not natural for you to be this way. It's very disconcerting at times because I can't decide weather it's really you or you're just acting."

"I don't know Hermione," he responded leaning back on the couch, "I think I would make a terrible actor."

"Why's that Draco?" she asked turning the corner to head for the entrance.

"I'm not sure I'd be able to remember all the stupid lines." He held up his essay not looking up from his homework, "Thanks for this."

"Any time Draco," Hermione smiled, "Goodnight."

"Night," he said, "Give my regards to the Black Witch won't you," he chuckled.

She laughed. As she exited the Slytherin common room she could have sworn she caught a glimpse of Pansy Parkington watching her from the shadows on the other side of the room. To say the girl had a dangerously dark look in her eye would have been quite an understatement.

Hermione thought she might have to ask Draco about Pansy after all. The Head Girl had enough enemies at present, she didn't need to be dodging hexes from a jealous ex-girlfriend as well.

The following day after her rounds and completing her work she sat again in the Head Common room and penned a letter explaining her dilemma about the wand problem of her friend to old man Ollivander hoping he could shed some light on the situation.

Spending time in the library doing research on something like that, even though it was what she lived for most of the time, didn't fit into her overstuffed schedule. Just finding time to eat, go to the loo and take a shower was taxing in the extreme.

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